Tag: Film

A Few Words About Movies

filmPeople get old; there’s no sense in getting all pissy about it.  First of all, there are tons of benefits, like a seat on the bus. Second, you’re way smarter (in most cases) than you were at 25; and third, most importantly, the alternative is a total bummer.  However, there is one tragic downside to getting old.  And since this is Cannes Film Festival Week, I thought I’d point it out.
If you live long enough, you get to see a lot of movies more than once.

Some would say this is a good thing.  For example, I’ve seen Casablanca so many times I know the dialogue — all of it — and I’ve never regretted the time spent.  But, believe me, there is a darker side.

** SPOILER ALERT **

1 — The M. Night Shyamalan Effect
You just shouldn’t watch some movies more than once.  These are the twisty ones that leave you gasping at the end, with your mouth open.   I’m looking at you, The Usual Suspects, The Sixth Sense and The Crying Game.  These are fantastic films, and sometimes you might think you’d like to see them again.  Don’t!  Watching a surprise ending movie twice is like trying to lose your virginity — a second time.  When you know what’s about to happen, it’s just not the same.

2 — OMG! What a piece of trash!
Some movies have added significance because we saw them at a particular time and place in our life.  (Puberty, third dates and your sophomore year in college are notorious for this.)  The problem is when you see them again, you realize they’re crap.  In this case, disappointment is the least of your worries because, invariably, you also remember the stupid stuff you did because of the feel-good contact high.  Like the time you went to see Two Of A Kind with Matthew Stilwell’s roommate Veronica Thompson (not their real names) and it felt totally cool ’cause it was right after Grease and had a decent sound track.  But then you went home and slept together — ’cause somebody said “It’s over between us.” Except it wasn’t, and then you had to spend the entire semester trying to get rid of those two psychos.  Er — uh — anyway, stuff like that can happen, and every time that movie comes back on TV, ya hate yourself — all over again.

But the very worst is:

3 — The damn thing still doesn’t end the way it’s supposed to.
In any good movie, you start cheering for the characters.   It’s perfectly natural.  You want Sean Astin to play in the big game, Kirsten Dunst to fall in love with Toby Maguire and somebody — ANYBODY — to finally kill that bastard with the British accent.  However, sometimes, despite all the emotional currency you have invested in the film, it all goes sideways.  This happens because writers are dicks.  They take perverse pleasure in writing a perfectly great script and then toying with us.  For example, we all know that Scarlett Johansson is way too flaky for anything long-term with Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz.  Okay, fine!  But what about Rebecca Hall (the real story’s about her, anyway) so why doesn’t she give it a go?  She’s a way better fit in that relationship — totally more interesting.  Besides, she wants to, he wants her to, I want her to, my wife wants her to and Penelope Cruz doesn’t care.  But, no!  She settles for Chris Messina, gets on the plane and commits herself to a life of perpetual beige.  WTF?  Every time I see that movie, I think “God, Vicky!  Juan Antonio’s standing right there.  What’s your problem?”  Woody Allen, you’re such an asshole.

Feminism Doesn’t Stand A Chance

equality1Like it or not, folks, despite our best efforts, here in 2017, feminism doesn’t stand a chance.  Gender equality might be a wonderful ideal, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon because men and women don’t get killed, dismembered or injured the same way — in the movies.  The fact is, as long as we maintain our Neo-Victorian attitude toward violent entertainment, gender equality will remain a distant dream.  Let me explain.

Shooting — When minor male characters get shot in films, their guts are splattered across three walls, half their chest is missing and their arteries are pumping enough ketchup to sicken Dracula’s sister.  If the action’s close enough, they fly backwards through a plate glass window, bounce off the windshield of a car and end up in the gutter with their head caved in.  When minor female characters get shot — actually, minor female characters seldom get shot on camera — but if they do, it’s usually because they’ve caught a stray bullet that causes nothing more than a vague look of surprise and a spreading red stain.  (FYI, the recovery rate for female characters from lethal gunshot wounds is astronomical.)

Fire — When men get set on fire in film, they run around, flaying their arms and screaming like a berserk barbeque briquette.  Women are instantly incinerated — no fuss, no muss and very little clean-up.

Torture — When men are tortured in the movies, they’re hanging by their thumbs.  The bad guys are punching the hell out of them while simultaneously zapping them with 500 volts, hacking away with a machete and blowing cigar smoke in their face.  There’s tons of slobbering and swearing and crying and hollering, and this goes on for at least three scenes — while the good guys are racing to the rescue.  Women, however, seldom get past the sinister music and the initial scream of anticipation before the camera cuts to the next scene — where they’re found half-naked in an isolated wooded area (shallow grave optional.)

Dying — When men die, there’s no coming back.  This guy’s been shot 4 times, stabbed, hit by a truck, blown up by 2 mortars and a grenade and dropped off a 12-storey building.  His face looks as if it’s done 12 rounds with a K-Tel meat tenderizer, and both legs are either missing or bent around like a Bavarian pretzel.  He’s coughing and spewing and spitting up god-only-knows-what while he vainly struggles to choke out his last words.  When women die, they are normally on their back, their head comfortably resting or cradled in the arms of … you get the idea.  There’s a tiny smear of blood from the corner of their mouth and they say something like “I’m so cold.” before their head slumps sideways and their eyes close — makeup completely intact.  Honestly, I’ve fallen asleep with more fanfare than that.

Let’s face it, people! The only time women get any screaming-ass agony in the movies is during childbirth.  And if that isn’t the final sexist kick in the head, I don’t know what is.

It’s sad, but until men and women get their heads blown off with some kind of equality in movies, feminism will remain merely a hope and a promise.

Oscar 2017 –Again

oscar-memeI guess it’s not too late to talk about Oscar some more — everybody else still is.  The ceremony was fairly cool.  The sets were gorgeous, most of the gowns were not and the ongoing faux feud between Jimmy Kimmel and Matt Damon played out very well.  Things fell a little flat when Jimmy tricked a bunch of ordinary folk into the auditorium for a “Hey! Let’s meet the peasants!” segment, but the millionaires were gracious and the peasants weren’t too unruly.  The best line, however, came when Kimmel got a little too honest and quipped that Viola Davis was such a good actress that she had just won an Emmy for her very dramatic acceptance speech.  As the man said, “The secret of success is sincerity.  Once you can fake that, you’ve got it made.”

Politics took centre stage most of the evening.  And, surprise!  Surprise!  Surprise!  Trump was the target.  Many of the millionaires wore blue ACLU ribbons in solidarity with something or other, and the audience gave several standing ovations to a variety of causes-de-jour — including Meryl Streep.  One director, however, Ava DuVernay, went the extra mile and wore “a gown by a designer from a majority Muslim country.”  She tweeted her bravery out to the world — just in case the Wal-Mart crowd weren’t aware of what a Lebanese-designed designer dress actually looked like.  Given that many celebs charge designers a healthy fee to wear their creations, this might very well have been a politics-for-profit moment.  And speaking of profit, the Swag Bag the millionaires got, just for showing up to the Oscars (actually a good-sized box — hand- delivered) was worth somewhere north of $100,000 this year.  It included — among a boatload of other stuff — a free stay in Hawaii.  Somehow, those calls for equality just got a little hollow.

But it was all in good fun.  Mel Gibson was welcomed back into the fold, Auli’i Cravalho got whacked on the head and some unknown somebody got scattered applause for mentioning the Koran.  Mahershala Ali became the first Muslim to win an Oscar, Damien Chazelle became the youngest director and Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty became a meme for having one job — one job.  However, their performance deftly illustrates that even though actors have an exaggerated sense of self-worth and a gigantic soapbox, at the end of the day, they’re still just reading the words they’re given, and have very little idea what’s actually going on in the world.