Strange Orphan Boxes

mother! is Not About to See Your Light

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Mon, 25 Sep 2017 23:59:00 +0000

I've set out to write a post about Darren Aronofsky's mother! a couple of times and I'm not sure where to start or that I really want to. I loved it. But I think a one way conversation is a real injustice to it. I loved the audacity and commitment he had to go with this bizarre poetic thing that unfolds in metaphors, playing out cosmic concepts as creepy domestic anxiety. It's almost theatrical, really. People seem to hate it, which is not at all surprising. I think it's way over the heads of the majority of people. I don't mean that as a dig (I kind of do) but mass audiences aren't used to this sort of thing. This is somehow straightforward and not at the same time. It's text and subtext as one, with the symbols out front and in your face, which can be seen as lazy or even invite deceptively simple explanations.

I may have at some point mentioned a professor I had that talked about finding tension in literature. He taught us that critical analysis wasn't about finding some secret one to one code of symbols and meanings, but rather about exploring the different ideas that may be playing out in the work, sometimes contrasting or outright contradicting each other. Art has an original intent by it's creator, but as soon as they start to work on it, there are subconscious ideas that creep in. And then readers come in and bring their baggage and it becomes hard to say what's valid or not. To a point. We always have to keep in mind that these are just interpretations. Some artists create things that are very straightforward and if you push it too far, it falls apart. Others create completely open ended material that is made to be discussed and dissected. I think mother! works best when discussed. It's easy to fall into a one to one ratio on it, because the symbols being played with are so iconic. I think we should resist that urge, though. It's too easy.

My take? I lean towards the ecological with it. As an anti-theist I see Javier Bardem's character as the villain who started with good intentions, but is ultimately a narcissist prick. My only complaint is not enough Danzig. But enough about me. What's your take?

Walking Dead Season 7 Premiere. . .

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Mon, 24 Oct 2016 20:53:00 +0000

I don't believe in hard rules for what makes a narrative work or not. I had a creative writing teacher who used to preface criticism by basically saying "what do I know?" with regards to the basic rules of narrative, because the only thing that matters in the end is execution and whether it winds up connecting or not. Some of the most memorable stories ever told broke several rules that lead them to being imitated repeatedly to the point that the break becomes cliche. Still, there are stories that are designed to be somewhat meta, at least a little, and when those types of stories break rules, it usually ends up working really well. But if a story was never set up that way, if it was set up to make you live each moment with the characters, and then it breaks that flow, more often than not, it will fail.

I already wrote about how The Walking Dead season 6 finale failed in exactly this way and the Season 7 premiere only added to that failure. For starters, it dragged out the big reveal of who Negan killed for no reason. We get treated to close ups of Rick slowly disintegrating, then Negan taking him out to the woodshed, so to speak, for nearly half the episode. And then, even worse, they play with us by showing what I guess is Rick imagining if Negan kills everyone and when we finally get the reveal of what happened, it's now a flashback and more of a relief than it should be. You just want them to get over with already. We don't get to experience the helpless agony with our characters, instead we get manipulated repeatedly by technique that reminds us we're watching a TV show. The sad thing is, they had the elements to make this work all along. Killing two people was a good way to extend the shock, had they killed one in the finale and then the other in the premiere, in real time.

But instead, because they separated the act from the emotion of the moment by elongating it all, the act itself is less about helplessness and loss than it is just shock for shock's sake and torture porn. The extreme violence and gore of the scene would have been fine had it been anchored by real time humanity. We could have been crying right along with them. But after being played by editing tricks and media hype it comes off as little more than a sadistic spectacle. At least that's my take and I don't think it's because I read the comics.

Not that sadistic spectacle isn't called for. Negan is a nasty, scary fuck. He's a character who is vulgar to his core and that is a big part of what makes him scary. The ease with which he dispenses extreme violence is part of that vulgarity. From that perspective, everything works. He's vile and powerful and sets up a new status quo that makes the Governor look like basket of puppies. I just wish it hadn't all been about his show, so we could spend more time feeling the impact of it. It's fine line before this sort of thing wears thin or, worse, Negan becomes more like-able than the main characters.

I will say the final moments of the episode began to make up for it all, in large part to Lauren Cohan's Maggie. Her performance, her character's true to form reaction and strength, even as she's completely fallen apart is a balancing act that could have been more central to these events from the start. Nothing against any of the others. Andrew Lincoln played it right too. But Rick's break, while understandable, is obvious. I don't know. Let's hope the makers of the show can get out of their own way for the rest of the season, and not continue to make this a show about how clever they are.

Comics: I'm Back, Baby!

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Wed, 19 Oct 2016 13:14:00 +0000

A few months ago, I discovered Hoopla Digital, an app where you can check out digital items from your local library. There are several apps where you can do this, depending on which ones your library uses. But the big deal with Hoopla (at least for me) is that they specifically mention comics as one of the things you can borrow. Well, the selection is pretty damn impressive. There's no Marvel, but just about every other publisher I can think of seems to be represented. It's not perfect, but free is not something to be sneezed at. Anyway, I've been reading comics. A lot. Here's a few.

I caught up with Saga, and I'm happy to say it is still just as good as I remembered it being. I haven't been following comics for a couple of years now, so I don't know, but I would still put my money on Brian K. Vaughn being the best damn writer in the medium. You're never quite sure where he's going to take you, yet it always makes sense. The characters are alive in ways that very few can manage. Although, I will say a big part of his success is also his ability to choose artists that can make those characters breathe. Fiona Staples can draw these really beautiful characters that captivate. It's easy to get caught up in her work from a distance, but one reason I really enjoy digital comics more than paper now a days, is that you can focus on details in each panel in a way that you (or at least I, and my old eyes) can't on paper. When you do that in Saga, you'll notice the subtlest hints of facial expression that are not typical of the medium. It's as if these were just freeze framed at very specific moments that only a real observer of humanity would know to choose. And she does. And it comes across in a way that makes you know exactly what these people are thinking and feeling at every moment, regardless of the words. I can't stress enough how everyone should read this book.

Because I'm a sucker for Elseworlds stories and it was free, I decided to give DC's Injustice: God's Among Us a try. I read 5 volumes of this shit, hating it and myself along the way at various points. Yet, I will likely read the next volumes when and if they become available on Hoopla because now I gotta see it through. To be fair, the first volume is a complete shitshow, but it does improve as it goes on. A little. Inconsistently. Without a doubt, this is the most inconsistent art I've ever seen in anything. One page will be filled with scribbles and then out of nowhere, there's a panel that looks amazing, like it was dropped in from another book. The "writing" is what you'd expect from a book that was thrown together just to justify a video game. It's ultimately nothing new. "What if Superman went mad and became a dictator" may not have been done outright in exactly the same way as this, but there have certainly been elements of all of this in other stories from Red Son to a bunch of other glimpses into alternate universes over the years. What I take most offense with in the whole story is the portrayal of Wonder Woman as almost a blood thirsty Lady Macbeth that at one point says she will be whatever Superman needs her to be. Fuck. That. Shit. I can't wait to finish reading this garbage, though. Like reading trashy novels, I guess.

What if you could stop time by having an orgasm? That's it. That's the premise of Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky's Sex Criminals and I would never have expected to love this book so much. I gave it a shot and, much like Saga, I was instantly hooked by how alive these characters are. And also, it's fucking funny. Without being immature, although, sometimes it is on purpose and that's funny too. But it never defaults to lowest common denominator humor like I would have expected. It's always smart without being pretentious or loosing the comedy. There's a lot of meta stuff going on with characters addressing the reader and background jokes like crazy. I have to admit at first Zdarsky's art didn't seem like my cup of tea, but I got over that by like panel 3 or so when (again, thanks to digital) I could really see what he was doing in the fine details. It totally makes sense now that this book has won so many awards. Read this.

The Walking Dead Season 6

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Wed, 06 Apr 2016 19:05:00 +0000

Knowing the source material can give you an unfair advantage on an adaptation that works like a double edged sword. Sometimes it means that you won't be surprised by what happens, but thankfully, The Walking Dead fixed that early on by veering far enough away from the comic to make it fresh enough for us comic fans. The dynamics of the characters hasn't been the same as the comic for most of the series at this point. Different people have lived and died in each, so even when they do follow the events of the comic closely, the impact is going to be different enough to make it interesting. Daryl, as much as I think he's the most boring character on the show and has been since season 2, doesn't even exist in the comic, so right off that's a new element in the mix. These are good things. But, because we live in the age that we do, where people that have never read a comic book in their miserable lives can look up whatever they want online, the show has been toying with all of us this season with anticipated deaths and the coming of Negan. And not in good ways.

Don't get me wrong, I think the show is still doing a great job, overall, of giving us this unflinching, dread laden tale of humanity at it's best and worst. And that's what it's about: humanity. Not the zombies. The best episode of the season to me was probably The Same Boat, where Carol and Maggie are captured by some of the saviors and Carol proceeds to break down for reasons you wouldn't expect, before finally having to do the horrible things that were necessary to survive. This episode's reminder that actions, no matter how necessary, have consequences on the conscience of good people could have been cheesy, but instead it was harrowing beyond the violence and gore. You understand why Carol is not just tired, but completely spent on an existential level. And Maggie's moment at the end, after being all hardcore, when she just breaks down and says "I can't anymore" is what makes this show special. There's no glory in the horrors of having to survive this way.

But before we got to that episode there was the whole "is Glenn dead or not?" crap from early on. It was set up as a cheap ploy from the get go with ambiguous editing and media hype immediately following. Then they intentionally didn't get back to Glenn for a couple of episodes before revealing his fate. It just wasn't organic storytelling the way the show has mostly been until now. They clearly were depending on the Internet furor to build up the tension instead of letting the story do it. All it did is spark the conversation about Glenn's interaction with Negan in the comic, which furthered the hype until the last episode of the season. Cheap and unnecessary.

The final episode was actually amazingly well done. The sense of dread and inescapable danger just closing in was almost too much for me. I felt sick to my stomach throughout the episode, partly because I knew what was coming, but partly because I didn't. It was back to old school Walking Dead tension where anyone could die, but someone is going to and it's gonna be hard. By the time we get to Negan's intro, he's everything he should be and Jeffrey Dean Morgan is perfect. You're afraid and this guy may as well be the actual devil, but the fact that he's kinda charming doesn't take the edge off. I've heard people say you kinda like him, but I don't think that's it at all. I think it's the realization that certain other people might like him which means nobody is going to help you. The look on Rick's face is how you feel and hope it never comes to that feeling for any reason in real life. Shit's hit the fan and now the fan is going to hit back. With a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. And it will be messy as fuck, both physically and emotionally. But then, the show went with hokey gimmick again instead of emotional knockout. Instead of just going through with the scene in the way that the comic did, where when I read it, I felt like I'd just lived it, they basically stopped the show. Never mind the shitty POV of whoever is getting beat, but ending the finale before the scene plays out makes the entire season feel incomplete. That is not an ending.

The best cliffhangers end on a big reveal, with what's next hanging in the balance. Locutus appears on the screen, Ryker says "fire" and cut to black (gets me every fucking time). We know what happened to Picard now and we know Ryker has made the hard but only decision. Next season will tell us what's next, and I will be anxious all summer, but there was an emotional arc that came to a close. But on The Walking Dead finale, not knowing who gets killed, even though we're watching the killing is sending the wrong message. It's almost telling us that it doesn't matter who gets killed. But it totally does matter and not just because we love some of these characters. On one level, it matters because one of the questions we are left with should be how will they react and that will depend on who gets killed. But on a higher level it matters because ending this way separates the show from that humanity I spoke about earlier. This scene, in the way it was shot, even though it doesn't actually show much of it, makes it about spectacle and gore and violence. That's the focus of the anticipation we're left with. It's not about consequence at all. The POV especially makes it a video game. It also disconnects us from our heroes because they can't make the violence stop, but we get a break. We're no longer living it with them. It should be an unrelenting scene, but it relents. It relents until October, I guess.

And beyond that, as a cheap TV ploy, it gives the creators of the show a way to gauge who should or shouldn't be killed in terms of ratings, something I don't think they had done before. Let's not forget it's not really all just big main characters in play here. Aaron is in the group too and while he might be a good character, he's barely been there. We just aren't invested in him the way we are with any of the others. If we come back next season to learn he was the chosen one, then the show has officially jumped the shark. This death is supposed to mean a whole lot more to everybody than some guy they just met. I have my suspicions on who it might actually be and if so it's a bold and maybe even dumb move. But it's a move that would at least work to do what it needs to do from a narrative perspective. That's assuming they don't just go with the straight comic version. Either way, I'm sure before the next season it will be spoiled by set pictures or whatever because that's what they've opened it up to. We'll see. . .

Revisit The Walking Dead Issue 100

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Tue, 05 Apr 2016 23:24:00 +0000

This was originally posted on my Tumblr back on July 13th, 2012. This will be important to read as context for my upcoming take on The Walking Dead season 6, which should be posted in the next day or so. Interestingly, I didn't read this again until after writing most of the show post.

Comic of the Week - No Contest

I was always a big fan of Nirvana. One thing Kurt Cobain always talked about in interviews was the “loud quite loud” dynamic in his music which he attributed to the Pixies. Basically, the idea is that by having this dynamic in music, it makes each part stand out and have that much more impact, be it the loud part or the quiet part. The loud makes you listen more closely to the quiet. The quiet lends gravity to the loud. I believe Robert Kirkman has been brilliantly following this dynamic in The Walking Dead and issue 100 was about as loud as it gets.

Sometimes big milestones happen in comics and it turns out to be more hype than anything else. The Walking Dead hit 100 issues this week and it was one of the most tense, gut wrenching, harrowing issues I’ve read of anything in a long, long time (probably since some other issue of The Walking Dead, if I were to really think about it). By now, anyone reading the series knows that it’s not about the zombies or the gore. The horror, the fear, the nauseous feeling you get sometimes when reading this, comes from the humans. And more importantly, it’s as a result of emotional investment in the characters. Just like the events of issue 48 would have had less impact if they happened sooner, the events of issue 100 work because there are 99 issues of build up behind it. In the time this series has existed, people have often complained that nothing was happening for long stretches. But by now, you should be prepared for anything to happen after a long stretch like that. Yes, there’s a formula at play here, but Robert Kirkman uses that formula like a master.

Right off the bat (no pun intended) the issue opens with scenes that imply, somehow, that something horrible is about to go down. Sure, we know this is true because it’s been hyped, but even if we didn’t, and didn’t know that this was a big milestone 100th issue, there is something about the way the scenes are presented that just ooze tension. There’s a threat looming behind each group we see. They are, for the most part, saying they are optimistic about the future, but somehow, you know they’re really not. They feel it and you do, too. Charlie Adlard, through lines on a paper, in black and white, conveys a sense of doubt and apprehension behind the eyes and through posture that rival the best actors. The subtlety is amazing and yet the feeling is impossible to miss, so your stomach starts getting tied into knots as you turn each page. And yet, you’re never really prepared for what happens.

By the time we find out which group is in danger, the scene plays out slowly and horrifically. You know something is going to happen, but you aren’t sure what and once you do know what it is and even to who, you still aren’t sure how much you’re going to see or where it will end. But you see everything, in heartbreaking, agonized detail. And once it’s done, the threat of more stays hanging there. I for one felt just as powerless as the characters I’ve gotten to know for 100 issues. It was like I was right there with them, unable to stop what was happening, witnessing and getting very nauseous. Once I closed the book, I was not entirely sure what to do next. I eventually read the next book in my stack, Batman, and as good as it was, I still couldn’t shake The Walking Dead. I guess that, much like Macho Grande, I’ll never get over The Walking Dead.

The Returned Season Two

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Tue, 22 Mar 2016 23:14:00 +0000

The thing about answers is that sometimes it's best to not have any at all. Especially if the story in question started off being about more than that. The first season of The Returned never made me feel like I absolutely needed to know all the intricate reasons and connections of why the dead were coming back. The second (final?) season gave us ambiguous answers at best, but maybe too many of them. Along the way, it still delivers on human level drama better than any American genre show that I can think of (except maybe The Walking Dead), but by the end of it, leaning on the mystical(?) puts it too close to Lost territory for the series as a whole to hold up to the brilliant first season.

As it turns out, many of the dead were connected, but not in obvious ways. I think the exploration of this deeper mythology held some promise. For example, the revelations about Serge and Toni's father, Milan and the effect that had on Serge could really be it's own show. That Milan is a key player in the larger mythology as well is almost irrelevant to the power of what their arc explores. And this repeats several times throughout many of the relationships. But I think they go too far in trying to explain the origin of it all by simply adding more layers of questions to who Victor/Louis is. Was he supposed to be death itself? An angel? A demon? God? Ultimately, who cares because this final layer was never something that was addressed early on. From the start, we were lead to believe he was just another returned. But it turns out he's not. He's more than that and by the final moments it's clear he has some extra powers that simply go too far. On the one hand, having him be the literal catalyst for the events of the series for the reasons shown are beautiful. On the other, it comes too late in the game and feels tacked on. It's like they suddenly decided to start telling a different story, one that might have been wonderful on it's own, but here just sort of clashes with everything we'd been watching. Again, too close to Lost for me to get on board with, because fuck Lost (and Lindelof).

By far, the best story is that of Camile, Lena, Claire and Jerome. A story that, interestingly enough, doesn't really have any connection to the larger mythology. In particular, I have to say my favorite actor of the entire thing is Frederic Pierrot as Jerome. He was good in season 1, but in the second season he brings the anguish of an unhinged and desperate father to life in a way that drips off the screen every time he inhabits it. He doesn't actually say many words, but his eyes are eyes I think any parent can recognize even if we've never been through anything similar, because how else would we look. His face is a Molotov cocktail of despair and determination that is ready to go off one way or the other. I sincerely hope this man is just a good actor and that he wasn't drawing on anything real because anything real behind this performance can't be something I'd wish on another human.

Anyway, The Returned is still worth a viewing, especially for the restrained feel of the first season and how it builds to a dramatic and near perfect end. I wouldn't say skip the second season, but maybe lower your expectations going in. I doubt there's going to be a third season. It was sort of a finale type of ending, but you never know.

The Witch

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Wed, 02 Mar 2016 21:52:00 +0000

Ever see a movie and feel like you were mislead by the marketing and that maybe you would have seen the movie and appreciated it better if not for the deception? Let's talk about The Witch, then. I've seen horror movies. I've seen slasher films, satanic themed movies, purely psychological horror, ghost stories, whatever. I'm not sure this movie is any of those. I think it has certain elements in common with horror movies, but I'm not sure I would call it that. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't use the terms that you see quoted all over the place to describe this. It didn't "scare the hell out of me," Pete Travers. And as I've pointed out before, I'm an easy mark. But before we go on, I want to point out that it's not a bad movie, at all. It just seems to me like one of those instances where people have a need to label things and when something comes along that doesn't seem to land in an easy to label box, they label it anyway and it's a disservice to all involved.

Spoilers Follow

What the movie does do, very fucking well, I might add, is create a setting and mood that makes danger palpable. Taking place in the early 1600s it opens with a family of recently arrived Puritans being banished from their settlement for "prideful conceit," which was either never made clear beyond that or I missed it. The reason almost doesn't matter, though. The point is that they are set off on their own to find suitable land, build their own home and live out their lives on their own. That alone is actually pretty horrifying when you consider the reality of it. In any case, soon after they have built a house and seem to be settled, their youngest son, maybe 6 months old, is taken. Now, from their perspective, the boy just disappeared under mysterious circumstances. They eventually chalk it up to a wolf, though doubt and suspicion lingers. But from our perspective we get an actually pretty disturbing scene where an old woman is seen taking the child to a cottage in the woods and proceed to sacrifice and bathe in the baby's blood before flying away on stick into the moonlit night. It's all done tastefully and effectively with close ups where you see less than you think you do and it's a great scene. But I take issue with it because I feel like it comes way too soon and preemptively undermines all the tension the film goes on to build after this.

And the thing is, the film actually does a good job of building that tension, but it's not about whether or not the witch will come back. The witch is never the threat as far as they're concerned, but "a witch" might be. We see the family begin to fall apart because of lies and deceptions and scapegoating. But since we know there was an actual witch that took the child, to me, it defuses the conflict for all the wrong reasons. One major theme that plays out is how the oldest daughter, Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy) is scapegoated due in part to her budding sexuality. The entire theme of female oppression, particularly from the point of view of how religion treats women is beautifully handled. I think it's a big part of why the Satanic Temple has embraced this film, and rightfully so. But again, I have to wonder if it might not have been better served if we hadn't seen the actual witch at the beginning. I believe this would have given the final scene with it's disturbing implications more impact than it did. I don't know.

I will say this. I started to write this post several times, just after seeing the movie on Sunday, and I couldn't decide what I really thought. That is a good sign. Is it a horror movie? I don't know. Not in the traditional sense, that's for sure. But it does deserve to be seen. It's important either way. I just wish people weren't so obsessed with labels.

Mr. Robot: Season One

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Fri, 26 Feb 2016 00:47:00 +0000

I've always been a fan of first person narratives, particularly where you're in the mind of the protagonist. In movies and TV doing this sort of thing can be tricky and can lead to a lot of gimmicky stunts that aren't always as clever as the filmmakers think or can go down a path of unnecessary cliches. But when it works, it should put you in the mindset of the character. Now, to clarify, I'm not talking about first person perspective as seen in found footage movies. These stories likely feature some voice over narration and some degree of the narrator's reliability being skewed. Think Goodfellas, Fight Club, A Christmas Story, etc. And in this tradition we get USA Network's Mr. Robot, which also happens to have more style than a basic cable TV show has any right to have.

The show follows a hacker named Elliot Anderson (Rami Malek) who is probably the most awkward character I've ever seen portrayed in anything. He's a genius, but he's depressed, lonely, unable to express himself and addicted to morphine. Unhinged has never been done so well as Malek does here. Between what he does on screen and his voice over, he owns every excruciatingly awkward scene he's in. It's painfully awesome to behold someone as maladjusted and in so much social agony as he is. It's through him that this show, which goes into some crazy conspiracy shit about evil corporations that is surreal and yet seems way too real at times, remains grounded. The rest of the cast is excellent as well, but this kid is good. Damn good.

The show's look deserves some words as well. It features a lot of odd angles and off kilter compositions that really help put you in Elliot's mind while seeming more like stylistic choices than gimmicks. There's also the way the cold opens work towards a frame with bold retro 80's era graphics, perhaps out of a video game. It all winds up making this look unlike any other show I can think of. On top of all that, to add to the stylish paranoid greatness, Christian Slater is there, playing a role that for a moment I thought would be revealed to be the grown up version of his character from on of my favorite movies of all time, Pump Up The Volume (man, I gotta see that again soon, been a very long time). But that wasn't the twist here, though there is one.

It was maybe 2 or 3 episodes in that I was pretty sure I was onto the big twist that would come near the end. But the way it was (officially) revealed was still not a let down at all. I didn't feel cheated because I had figured it out too soon. What this got right was that the twist was not just about the twist. Yes, once it's revealed we were probably way ahead of the game and had figured it out but it's directly addressed that this has happened, in a way that makes it about character development instead of clever plot contrivance. They took something that's been done and gave it a fresh spin that mostly hinges on being invested in the characters and you totally are. You just really care about Elliot. At least I do. Maybe he's familiar to me. This is a great show with a whole lot of potential to join the pantheon of my favorite shows of all time. I don't usually say this so early in the game, and it can certainly go to shit next season, so let's see. Let's hope.

Veep: The Binge

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sun, 14 Feb 2016 00:30:00 +0000

There's a moment in the third episode of season 2 of Veep that the series really revealed a whole other level to me. After a series of ridiculous incidents surrounding a hostage rescue operation, Vice President Selina Meyer played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus learns that one of the soldiers on the mission lost a leg. To see this hard-edged, sarcastic, narcissistic career politician take the news as hard as she does winds up elevating everything that came before and after without losing any of the comedic brilliance. Make no mistake, this is not a "very special episode" type of moment, but it does show a human depth to her character that might be easy to forget given some of the insanity of the rest of show. And it's not the last moment where this happens. It comes up in different ways as the series progresses which I think is why this show is ultimately so great.

Everyone is just fucking perfect on this show, but the balancing act that Dreyfus pulls by playing someone who is shallow and mean as fuck but also somehow likable is a feat unlike any I can think of. Plus the whole show is tightrope walk between smart and over the top slapstick that somehow works every time, perhaps because deep down it's grounded in relatable human characters. When you break down some of the most horrible fiascoes Meyer and her staff go through, it's almost like they fail because they are too honest, too idealistic, in spite of themselves. And also because, like most of us, they second guess themselves. The political machine chews them all up because they aren't ruthless enough, no matter how hard they try to be.

Near the end of season 4, there's another scene involving Meyer and her body man Gary played by the genius Tony Hale that is absolutely beautiful. I won't describe the scene because it really should just be seen in context with the appropriate seasons long build up, but once again it was unexpectedly touching. It might be my favorite scene of the whole show, and that's saying a lot. It took me a while to start this show, but I fucking inhaled the 4 seasons in like 3 weeks and now I'm ready for Season 5 on April 24th. Can't wait.

Making a Murderer, Serial, Justice

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sat, 06 Feb 2016 23:38:00 +0000

By now, a whole hell of a lot has been written about Netflix series Making a Murder. The documentary series follows events leading to the murder conviction of Steven Avery. It's a story filled with injustices, beginning with his release from prison in 2003 after serving 18 years for a rape he was exonerated for based on DNA evidence. That part of the story alone is bad enough, revealing what is either incredible incompetency in the Manitowoc County, Wisconsin police department or an elaborate conspiracy. Or both. And the journey to Avery being (mis)tried and convicted of murder in 2007 is one that will test your definition of justice at every turn.

Make no mistake, what we see in the series is skewed to make you side with Avery. But there are parts of it that no amount of skewing would change. By the end of the series I don't know if I believe Avery is innocent, but I also don't think that's even the point. The fact is the police and DA most definitely pulled some shady shit. I'm not going to go off on a rant (maybe just a little) about prisons and the justice system and racism, but I do have to point out that it's interesting that everyone is so taken by the case of a white dude who was fucked over by the system, while black kids get shot by cops daily. End rant. Plus, I'm not sure Avery is completely innocent, either. I don't know.

In related news, Serial has started posting daily updates from a new hearing in the case of Adnan Sayed that could result in an overturned conviction. If you never heard season 1 of Serial, you don't know what you're missing. Making a Murderer was good, but it was definitely no Serial. For starters the producers of the podcast are master storytellers where I think the makers of the Netflix series were more lucky than anything else because they happened to be there making a documentary about how Avery would acclimate back into society and then the murder case happened. It sort of just fell in their lap. Also, by skewing the way they did, I think they lose some of the impact a more ambivalent point of view would give them. Serial never chose a side and left you questioning everything. Like life.

And I guess the larger question left is what if Avery and/or Sayed are guilty after all. Does that justify any shortcuts taken to lock them up? If I were a cop, DA or judge and I knew for a fact, that the accused was guilty, would I manipulate evidence or otherwise influence the outcomes? Honestly, I think I would. But that's why I'm none of those things. I'm just a guy watching a show or listening to a podcast. And I expect more from those that chose to be arbiters of justice. I think we all should.

The Hateful Eight: The Conversation Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Fri, 22 Jan 2016 18:01:00 +0000

Chapter 4: The Turn.

INT. LESTER’S DINER - MORNING

A WAITRESS, in her 50s, brings the bill to the booth where Gerry, Ed and Carlos sit. Carols takes it and passes it to Gerry, who passes it to Ed.

GERRY

I really liked coming back from intermission to have it directly referenced by the VO. It managed to somehow simultaneously call attention to the fact that we were watching a movie and yet these characters exist while we’re away. It's a bit of a tightrope walk. I'm curious how that bit plays out in the digital version.

CARLOS

I personally liked the VO, but I can see why it would irk some. It's not needed, but it's what I come to expect from Tarantino's interest in keeping you off your toes narratively.

(absently, looking at the bill)

Agreed on VO - the characters exist without audience.

They stand and walk toward the cashier, by the front door. There is no line. Ed pays while Gerry and Carlos stand by.

CARLOS

This also feels to me like two different movies, split by the intermission. The first plays like more of a western, the second feels almost like a whodunit/horror piece. Which is one of the things I like about Tarantino, how he plays with genre so effortlessly. Reminded me a little of From Dusk Til Dawn, which is not a good film yet has that same sense of gonzo attitude.

GERRY

I hated From Dusk Til Dawn, but yeah, I see that. Though here it's very seamless, maybe because we stay with the same characters and it really did build from the events in the first half. It's more of an elaborate set up than two movies in a way.

ED
It was weird and I want to see the regular version too now.

As Ed puts his wallet back in his pocket, we see that it does not say anything on it. At all.

CARLOS

One thing we didn't talk about was Jennifer Jason Leigh.

Her character and the sheriff are the ones who I remember the best.

GERRY

She's always great.

CARLOS

Let's talk about her character tomorrow.

GERRY

(clearly lying)

Yeah let's do that.

They exit the diner.

Chapter 5: Ed. (Carlos interrupts)

BLACK SCREEN

I despise them all.

INT. TAP ROOM - DAY

There is a crowd gathered at the bar. Ed is behind the bar, serving up beers. They all look delicious as he pours them from the vast multitude of taps behind him, all in proper glasses. He speaks to nobody in particular.

Sure, Sam Jackson’s Major Marquis Warren comes off as the hero initially, careful with his words and sizing up everyone, knowing his situation is not safe, but as we come to know all the others with their dirty pasts and nasty words, you come to see the dark sides of everyone you trust and the good sides of those you don’t.

He takes one freshly poured glass, inspects in the light, and takes a sip. He looks satisfied.

Walton Goggins as Chris Mannix spits racism right from the start, yet surprises us with a story about being the new sheriff and eventually a slight sense of trust as situations turn from bad to dangerous later on in the movie.

As he gives one glass to a nearby patron, we see that it is Carlos, who takes the dark, frothy beverage and sips it, leaving a foam mustache in place, which he does not wipe away.

CARLOS

What about that glorious Ennio Morricone score? I thought the soundtrack was amazing, perfectly capturing the mood of the film, particularly during the overture. Morricone's main theme speaks to the inevitable fate of the characters. Once I heard those descending strings, I knew everyone in this film (or almost everyone) would certainly die. Violently.

Ed makes a dismissive face at Carlos, nods his head and turns back to the taps.

TIGHT CLOSE UP - ED

We don’t know who to trust or who to like, and our allegiances turn as the genre of the movie turns. I’d spend even more time in this cabin in the snow with these awful antiheroes if they released an even longer, uncut version of this danger. Great characters, great vile, vicious humanity spit in our faces once again by our master chef of character, Q.

Chapter 6: Hype and Fanboys.

EXT. LESTER’S PARKING LOT - MORNING

Gerry, Ed and Carlos walk out of the diner.

CARLOS

The other day I read an interview with Tarantino where he commented on his greatness as a filmmaker, saying his plan was to film only ten films and go out in a blaze of glory. That his films would be seen by kids 100 years from now, celebrated by students of the form. He sounded like a complete douche. I have no idea whether or not he was joking – maybe he's a pretentious asshole. But it's hard to argue with the statement. He's probably one of the most vital American filmmakers alive.

GERRY

He'll make more than that. He's been saying that for some time. It's just nonsense.

He's believed in his hype. And I don't know that I blame him. He’s larger than life now, I guess.

CARLOS

Even better. I'm definitely in line for the next two.

Epilogue: Gerry and Quentin.

INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT

It's a high end, South Beach type club filled with fancy looking people in fancy looking clothes. There is 90s house music playing. We follow various people through the crowd.

GERRY (V.O.)

Back in 96, I was in film school. I had just wrapped my first production assistant gig on a low budget indie film and was invited to the wrap party at a local high end restaurant and cigar club. As it turned out, one of the producers of the film had also worked on Curdled which was executive produced by Quentin Tarantino and at one point, while I was drunk and uncharacteristically dancing with strangers, someone told us Quentin was next door and there was no way the night was ending without at least a glance at QT.

We come to Gerry in his mid 20s, dressed in slacks, fancy shirt and sport coat, dancing and clearly drunk among the crowd, near the bar. A random person from the crowd steps up and yells something in his ear and he follows them and few others towards a door in the back.

GERRY (V.O.)

The quest to crash the VIP party next door was a haze since I was pretty drunk and I think it involved going through a kitchen, like some low grade version of Goodfellas.

INT. HIGH CLASS RESTAURANT/CIGAR CLUB - NIGHT

Gerry follows the group from the previous scene in via a side door. This is different from the previous club. It's clearly a VIP type place and looks vaguely like a den. There is a large bar and waiting area with a separate dining area visible through a doorway, guarded by a Maitre D at a podium. Sitting at a large table behind the Maitre D is a large group of people. Among them is QUENTIN TARANTINO, possibly wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt which stands out in the fancy surroundings. He is about to have dinner.

Someone Gerry is with points over to Quentin, showing Gerry. There is a moment of pause before, Gerry looks to his side and spots SOME GIRL, who he grabs by the hand (uncharacteristically) and leads her towards where Quentin sits.

GERRY (V.O.)

Once I saw him, I think I just acted. I don't know, but since I was drunk, I think I grabbed some girl that was with us and walked straight for him. Or maybe she grabbed me.

As they walk, the Girl stops, rips Gerry's hand off of her arm and then grabs his arm and begins leading him toward where Quentin sits. Gerry nods as if saying this makes more sense. She stops at the Maitre D and talks to him for a brief moment, before just barging through anyway, dragging Gerry behind her.

GERRY (V.O.)

It was that rude imposition you always hear celebs talk about as we interrupted his dinner, but I remember telling him he was the reason I was in film school, which was at least partially true. He was super gracious and didn't seem to be annoyed at all.

CUT TO: LATER THAT NIGHT

Gerry stands against a column, apparently barely conscious, staring at Quentin a few feet away, lighting a cigar.

GERRY (V.O.)

Later that night, I was hanging out, still in a haze because it was open bar for us, and there he was lighting a cigar.

Suddenly, Quentin looks over and seems to notice Gerry. He seems to recognize him from earlier and smiles at him.

QUENTIN TARANTINO

Hey buddy. How you doing?

Gerry just looks at him, about to say something, but he's not sure if he can do so and remain standing.

GERRY (V.O.)

And I can't really remember what I said other than "yeah." Then we both nodded knowingly, acknowledging how drunk I was before he walked off. Maybe if I hadn't been so drunk there would have been a long conversation leading to a job. Or not, but maybe.

Quentin walks away. Gerry stands there for a second, then begins talking directly to the camera.

GERRY

So the moral of the story is don't drink and meet your heroes, I guess. But the real point is I'm a Tarantino groupie. Have been ever since I saw Reservoir Dogs and sort of decided to go to film school. I wanted to make movies before then, but that movie and the indie film movement of the 90s finally pushed me. It never worked out, but that's a different story for another time.

FADE OUT

The Hateful Eight: A Conversation Between The Geeky Three

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sun, 17 Jan 2016 19:57:00 +0000

Prologue

INT. DINER - MORNING

LESTER'S in Ft. Lauderdale is a typical, though large, diner filled with mostly older people and families having breakfast. It's about 10 am.

At a booth, near the counter, sit three geeks in their 40s, drinking coffee and lost in thoughtful discussion, almost unaware of their surroundings. Almost as if they were actually not in this diner at all, but rather miles apart, using Google Hangouts to have this conversation about Quentin Tarantino's latest film, The Hateful Eight. A conversation they've been meaning to have for some time but couldn't find the time.

GERRY

So where would you rank this?

Top five for me probably. But not best.

CARLOS

Well, Death Proof is the worst.

Right!

CARLOS

Even by his own admission.

This had a lot of depth.

CARLOS

Jackie Brown is #1 for me.

Loved that!

GERRY

I think for me it's likely top 5 as well. I might be rewatching them all soon and doing a full ranking.

Good idea! I'll bring the beer.

GERRY

Lugene!

CARLOS

Then Kill Bill, Reservoir Dogs, and then this one probably. Not sure.

Kill Bill is high for me

GERRY

I'm not sure Kill Bill is that high for me. It might be, but I don't know. We'll see.

Marathon!

GERRY

You know I met him once.

Chapter 1: Excitement! Passion! Archetypes!

EXT. MOUNTAIN TERRAIN - DAY

All is white. There is A STAGECOACH, pulled by 6 horses, with the door open. From inside, GERRY seems to be waiting for ED and CARLOS to come in. From their heavy coats, it's clear that it's cold as a motherfucker. ED and CARLOS look at each other and nod, confirming that it's safe.

We all saw the full 70mm version. It was the hype that drew us in - the passion for the format.

CARLOS

So let's start there.

All three now nod in agreement.

INT. STAGECOACH - DAY

The coach is wobbly as the conversation continues.

I loved that excitement. It rivaled Star Wars, but in a different way. More tangible. I was excited for the program and I took a picture of the actual film in the projector.

GERRY

Before we even get to the movie, though, I was really struck by the blue Cinerama screen at the beginning. Maybe that's a common thing with Cinerama theaters that still exist, but it really made the whole experience seem huge to me. Something about that blue reflected back in the theater from the screen took me back to how big and special movie theaters seemed back in the day. The most direct thing it reminded me of was actually this old attraction at Disney World called Circlerama-360 that surrounded you in a movie. It was kinda boring, but still felt enormous. I think that had a similar blue screen at the beginning like that.

CARLOS

I love widescreen and would see everything in that format. Having said that, do you feel that this film in particular needed to be in 70mm?

Yes. It was all in a room, but it was another level of storytelling: the format gave it more impact and a certain grandiose nature. It was about these people paying for their sins. And being a western, it's always a big allegory. So yes, wide format in a room made it larger than life. It's like, why not. I've always wanted to get away with it. Why waste it on beautiful empty landscapes when really what's interesting are the people in it?

Ed sits back with a satisfied look on his face, almost daring the others to contradict his point. Gerry casually packs and lights an old style pipe. Carlos looks out the window, longingly, considering Ed's point as the silence hangs there.

GERRY

That's a good point on the landscapes. Wide screen humanity. I wonder how much of that is intentional though. I think of Tarantino as a movie geek more than a literary type filmmaker who is working with subtext or anything like that. Though some of that does always come through in his work.

CARLOS

I agree with the whole impact of having it show the way they would big spectacle movies from the past: overture, intermission, extra footage in a special presentation. It really showcases Tarantino's geek passion for film. More than whether the story "warrants" such treatment, and you can argue it doesn't, the sheer joy Tarantino brings to it is infectious. The cinematography here is superb. Those close-ups of the characters' faces – Kurt Russell's mustache, Jennifer Jason Leigh's bloody face – are amazing.

He's all about his characters and all that gets said about them is just a reflection of him just bringing them to life. Love or hate them - and mostly you hate what they do - you're in it with them. Gritty and unforgiving movie. Maybe his most unforgiving?

GERRY

His characters are usually more archetypes than real humans. Would you say that's true here as well? Did anyone come across as more "real"?

Whether or not they're archetypal, he makes them real.

GERRY

Sure, and it's not a criticism, but I never really feel like I'm connected to his characters in a meaningful way beyond them being characters in a movie. Nothing wrong with that, though. I just never forget it's a movie.

I don't know. I connect with many because they have nothing in common with me other than little humorous traits; however, you understand why they do the horrible things they do sometimes. I ended up liking the characters you're set up to hate at first: Walton Goggins' Sheriff Chris Mannix and Jennifer Jason Leigh's Daisy Domergue.

GERRY

I think the format heightens the sense of what I'm saying about the characters. These are larger than life images more than they are people and to a certain extent the characters themselves know it.

CARLOS

The only one of his films in which his characters seem more than archetypes to me and I connect in a more meaningful way is Jackie Brown.

GERRY

Yes. It's why I think I tend to like that a lot more than most people. It shows range from him.

CARLOS

I don't think he's been able to top that. It's his most mature work. Interestingly, it's the one he considers a bit of a failure because his fans don't seem to like it as much, which is perhaps why he went back to the more over-the-top stuff.

I felt this wasn't a foray into anything new by him.

Chapter 2: Carlos.

TIGHT CLOSE UP: CARLOS'S FACE

CARLOS

I have always liked Jennifer Jason Leigh. She's always been underrated in my opinion, and here she delivers a performance full of fury.

INT. HOME OFFICE - DAY

The room is filled with shelves of DVDs, CDs and books. There are framed movie posters on the walls: Tarantino, Carpenter, Scorsese are all represented. Carlos sits at a computer with a large monitor, his face appears large on the screen as he speaks directly to the webcam.

CARLOS

For a while you think she's a bad apple, yet you feel kind of bad that she's being taken to her death. Then you realize she's a really bad apple. And even then at the end I still felt kind of bad at the horrible way they kill her, deservedly or not.

He pauses, visibly shaken by the memory. He takes out a pack of Red Apple Cigarettes, removes one from the pack, puts it to his lips, lights it with a Zippo lighter and takes a calming drag. He holds it for a second and lets it out.

TIGHT CLOSE UP - CARLOS'S FACE

CARLOS

That moment - when she plays the guitar and sings that song, fully aware of the fact Kurt Russell's character is about to die - that is probably one of my favorite moments in the film.

Chapter 3: Incorrect.

INT. CAR - DAY

Carlos is driving a mid 70s sedan, with a large interior. Gerry sits in the passenger seat, fiddling with the radio. Bits of different types of music including surf, soul, country, blues and pop play before Gerry settles on "A Uma Gina" by Sergio Borges and Conjunto Joao Paulo. Ed is in the back, flipping through a Hateful Eight program.

CARLOS

Gina!

GERRY

How did you guys like the whole thing where Sam Jackson's character, Major Marquis Warren, tells Bruce Dern's General Sandy Smithers the story about killing his son?

Mixed from me.

GERRY

Why is that?

Not sure they needed the visuals to keep the tension.

CARLOS

I thought that was great.

It felt Pulp Fiction-esque. It was comical. Which isn't inherently bad. . .

GERRY

It was supposed to be comical, though.

But it made me like Sam's character less.

CARLOS

It was funny and filled with suspense.

It took us outside though.

GERRY

He's clearly making most of that up and, as a matter of fact, when he's telling it, he says "are you getting a picture?" while looking directly at us.

The pretty landscape shot was this tortuous fellatio. I felt it was through the eyes of the old man.

GERRY

This Tortuous Fellatio is my favorite emo band.

CARLOS

Yeah, I had no issues with it. I'm not sure Sam Jackson is supposed to be likable anyway. None of them are, really.

Right. It reminded us not to like him

GERRY

Ed is incorrect.

Carlos stops the car suddenly, turning around to look at Ed, then at Gerry.

CARLOS

He was incorrect in our review of Star Wars too.

Fuck yourselves, you must.

CARLOS

Why do you keep inviting him?

GERRY

I thought you did.

It's the band names I come up with.

Carlos turns back to the wheel, apparently satisfied. He starts driving again.

GERRY

One thing that stood out to me as something Tarantino should try to stop doing is the chapter break thing. I get it, and it's not like it doesn't work, but enough.

CARLOS

Agreed. He has overdone that a bit. Another thing that seemed very interesting to me in this film is Tarantino's handling of race, which to me comes across as more thoughtful than some of his other films. I think all his-

Maybe that's why I felt it was a rehash of ideas he has already presented.

CARLOS

The chapters?

Yes.

CARLOS

What was I saying?

Race relations.

CARLOS

I think all his movies are preoccupied with race relations up to a point, but his commentary here regarding racism is both in-your-face and kind of nuanced at the same time.

It was a great backbone to their intentions. They had their own preconceptions and followed through with them. At first, Sheriff Mannix came off as one note, but in the end, showed to have the most depth.

GERRY

Agreed on race. I think the commentary is incredibly nuanced. By the end of it I'm not entirely sure what, if anything, he ultimately wanted to say about it, but it made me think of several things along the way. The main one that stands out is the issue of trust and safety between white and black America.

Agreed. Nothing was summed up.

GERRY

It winds up being that the black guy and the most racist character there are the only two who can ultimately trust each other in the end. But it's not as simple as that either.

They weren't friends. They were only together from circumstance. And they're both fucked at the end anyway.

CARLOS

That's a brilliant intro to the two characters, seeing their hate of each other while they ride the stagecoach.

Carlos parks the car.

EXT. LESTER'S DINER PARKING LOT - MORNING

Ed, Gerry and Carlos exit the car, and walk towards the diner, while talking.

GERRY

But at the end of the day, they were both duplicitous, though. Warren had the letter which Mannix was never fooled by. And Warren was never fooled by Mannix's smiling routine.

They never trust each other. Felt like an old movie on the study of character in circumstance.

GERRY

They don't, but they trust enough to know not to trust which means they do.

CARLOS

Did you feel the movie was too long? Or just the right length?

The movie moved very quickly. Right length.

GERRY

I never felt bored.

Me neither.

They enter the diner.

INTERMISSION

The Returned Season One

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Tue, 05 Jan 2016 20:06:00 +0000

I recently tried to watch Z Nation, the SyFy TV show now on Netflix. I lasted a total of 20 minutes which was at least twice as long as I actually gave a fuck about what I was seeing on the screen, but I'm open minded. It was jarringly fast paced which might be a good way to start a video game, but for something less interactive, I need a moment to figure out exactly what the hell I'm supposed to be looking at before you jump to some other crazy thing in the most jarring way possible. Actually, that's not even fair. It's not that it was fast - that can sometimes work - it's just that it was bad. In any case, I was hungering for something apocalyptic, so I decided to give another show a spin: The Returned (Les Revenants). It's the complete opposite - slow and drawn out and pretty damn near perfect.

This French series is based on a movie I'd never heard of called They Came Back (Les Revenants), about a bunch of people in a small village in the mountains of France coming back from the dead. But this is not what you'd expect, or maybe it is, given it's French. There's no gory zombies or anyone getting their head bashed in. Instead the horror is about dealing with loss, from the point of the view of the families that had lost loved ones as well as from the perspective of the returned themselves who come back to a world that has moved on without them. It's loss, but also, in a weird way, the loss of loss, that's traumatic. There is some real human drama playing out here while a deeper mystery about how and why the dead have come back unfolds, episode by episode, never showing all the cards at once.

There are some genuinely creepy situations in the series, but interestingly, I'm more creeped out by how nonchalant the French can be, even at their supposedly most shocked. There was an attempt at an American version of this show and it was apparently cancelled almost immediately. I bet it's because the tone was way off for American audiences who probably need to see the characters lose their shit every ten minutes in order to go with something like this. But that's the thing about this show. It deals with the reality of getting your loved one back. Yeah, the impossibility of that happening would likely freak you out, but a bigger part of you would likely be happy to see them again. And the dichotomy of those two feelings is where the drama lies here.

Anyway, the first season ended with a hell of a bang and I can't even imagine what is next. The second season already aired in France, so I need to track it down soon. I'm not sure I can wait for it to get to Netflix. This show is so good, it's had my inner voice thinking in French gibberish for weeks. I really should just learn the damn language at some point.

Jessica Jones Season One

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sat, 02 Jan 2016 15:55:00 +0000

There's a world of difference between making things dark and gritty for the sake of it and exploring actual human darkness and complexity. Too often, what happens is that the whole "comics aren't for kids anymore" thing winds up just adding surface grit. They turn down the colors, add a bunch of violence and say "bam! this is now realistic!" but it's not, Zack Snyder, it's not! But when it's done correctly, we get Jessica Jones, which is probably the only time I've ever seen the real implications of superhero shit handled seriously in live action.

When this show was announced, I was excited because I really loved the comic, Alias, by Brian Michael Bendis and Michael Gaydos. Bendis can be a bit much, but this is probably his masterpiece. It's a corner of the Marvel Universe that he pretty much created. He originally wanted the character to be ex Spider-Woman Jessica Drew, but I think it's better that failed superhero turned private eye Jessica Jones is a character he created for this and nobody really remembers her attempt at costumed heroics. The comic, like the show, winds up exploring the dark toll of her powers as well as what happens when one is mentally raped for years, pulling no punches whatsoever. So of all the Marvel shows coming to Netflix it was the one I was most excited for, but I didn't think they'd get it this right.

For starters, Krysten Ritter just is Jessica. I'm not sure I've ever seen better casting for a comic based thing. The angst just radiates off her but you also see a flicker of hope in there somewhere in her eyes or the way she walks. This is a woman who wants to believe in something: she wants to believe that she can atone, that humanity is worth her sense of guilt and responsibility. She's that damn good. The show is that damn good.

The whole atmosphere of the show just feels real. There are moments where they are out in the crowded streets of New York where I was struck by how "unproduced" it all felt. It seemed as thought they just went out and shot on the street, as is, which I'm sure they didn't, but they certainly pulled it off. There was just something about the way these characters, particularly Jessica, walk and generally inhabit the city, that felt very much alive in a way I haven't seen since maybe Taxi Driver or other 70s productions. I don't know. It's probably best not to even analyze it too much. As expected, I enjoyed this a whole lot more than the adequate Daredevil series. Still, I'm looking forward to more of this side of Marvel's universe on Netflix. And more Jessica Jones, specifically.

The Newsroom

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Fri, 01 Jan 2016 21:04:00 +0000

I recently finished watching the last season of The Newsroom and I have to say, as much as I loved West Wing, appreciated the attempt of Studio 60 and liked The Newsroom, I think that's enough. No more Aaron Sorkin. Because if I learned anything watching all these shows it's that Sorkin is really not a guy you can call prolifically original. He's good at a very limited thing, the best at it, really, but he's done that thing, almost exactly verbatim on at least three shows (I haven't watched Sports Night). I've seen the same thing done in a few of his movies too. And I'm not even talking about something general like "snappy dialogue" I mean there are a collection of scenes that repeat pretty much exactly in all three shows. And once you've seen a couple of iterations, you can't help but notice when they come up again. I could elaborate, but if you search YouTube for Sorkinisms, you'll find plenty of videos like this one:

I liked The Newsroom, though. It was what you expect: inspiring, hopeful, idealistic, funny, smart. All fine and enjoyable. But mostly what I came away with was the fact that they need to make a Sloan Sabbith spin off series with Olivia Munn. I'd definitely watch that because, well, Olivia Munn, but also because that character might be Sorkin's best creation. A strong woman who is awkward but doesn't get completely silly for no apparent reason when she has feelings for a man. That's a far cry from some of the bumbling professional women we tend to see most of the time. And I don't know how much of that came from Sorkin and how much from Munn herself, because Sorkin has certainly given us the inexplicably goofy though supposedly smart and confident professional woman before.

At the end of the day, I think enjoying Sorkin's shows requires you to be on the same political page as him to begin with. I guess I like his point of view for the most part, though the overwhelming idealism needs to be taken with an understanding that he's never presenting things as they are and he knows that. As for that snappy dialogue, no matter how much he repeats bits, he's still the best at it and in the right actors' hands these moments are comedic word ballets. Do we need another main character who was abused by his father seeing a shrink and fighting the process with smartass comments until the shrink outwits him? Well, not really. And the same goes for many of his other goto plots and hurdles for his characters. I think he's made his mark on TV and should move on now. Hopefully he finds some new notes to play and lets these be the classics he doesn't go to anymore.

The Affair: Season Two

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Wed, 23 Dec 2015 00:52:00 +0000

This isn't a Star Wars post, but something that's come up often in reviews relates to this. One of the biggest kudos the movie is getting is how likable the characters are and how much that was missing from the prequels. And while I totally agree with that, I think it's important to point out that it's not necessarily that they are likable, but that they are "careable." You care about what happens to them, good or bad. With the prequels, most sane people were completely indifferent to the characters and either wanted it to end or were waiting for them to become real at some point so we could give a flying fuck about any of what was happening. The point being, you don't need likable characters, but you do have to care enough to either love them or hate them. And in the best cases, it's really both. Case in point is Showtime's The Affair, which just ended it's second season.

This show hooked me as soon as I gave it a chance. I'm not sure the marketing is doing this justice, because it took some pushing from my wife to get me to watch it. I figured it would be nothing more than a soap opera about infidelity. But it's not. I mean, that's there, but there's a whole lot more to it than that. It's really a very complex show about some mostly selfish asshole human beings who happen to also be very real and relatable. It also happens to be very literary and even meta since the main character is an author and there's a book within the show thing happening. There are multiple unreliable narrators and perspectives as most of it is told in flashback and parallels. There are many layers and the second season unravelled many of them as we got closer to the present. A key factor about the central incident - a homicide - was revealed and then another layer was added to that and we are left wondering if we've actually even seen the truth. Or what exactly that word even means anymore.

I figure next season will be it. Three seasons, with a solid ending, should be enough to tell a complete story here. What I'm expecting is maybe some justice for a few, some redemption for somebody and a whole lot of none of that for the most part, because if this show is about anything, it's about how incredibly messy life is. I don't like these people. There are adulterers, selfish assholes, spoiled rich fucks, and flaky, irresponsible hippy dipshits. But among that same group, there are also good fathers, broken people, victims of horrible parenting, and basically just humans trying to live. Either way, I care to see what happens to them. Part of me wants to see a couple them get run over by a truck, maybe driven by a couple of others, but then the truck gets smashed by another, much larger, truck driven by me. But I care. I care a lot.

Continuum: Closing the Loop

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Mon, 23 Nov 2015 12:56:00 +0000

A couple of years ago I decided to check out a show on Netflix because time travel, so duh. Continuum wasn't great, but the premise was enough to keep me on board for a few episodes. That grew into having it on mainly in the background and then deciding I wasn't going to watch the next season. Except, when the next season became available, I did watch it. And I went back and forth on my opinion a couple of times, but still continued. By the time season 3 hit, I was all in. And now, having watched the last 6 episode wrap up season, I'm glad I stuck with it.

The premise of a group of terrorists from the future being sent back in time, followed by one supercop (Rachel Nichols) is simple enough. But the show had layers to it at every point. For starters, those terrorists were fighting a fascist corporate empire for which the supercop worked. On top of that, the man responsible for sending them all back (William B. Davis) in time is the man responsible for said empire. And to top it off, who winds up helping supercop in our time but the younger version of the man responsible for the empire. And if that wasn't convoluted enough, along the way the status quo changes a few times due to time lines shifting and other factions coming into play. Basically, the show kept my interest because it never really settled into a grind.

Sure there was some not so great acting along the way and often the dialogue was beyond expository. And the effects weren't great. But at the heart of the show was always the relationship between Kiera, the supercop, and young genius Alec (Erik Knudsen), the potential corporate ruler. Over the three and a half seasons of the show their friendship was tested to its limits and their attempt to fight the future while simultaneously getting Keira back to her son in said future was the blinking light at the end of the twisty tunnel. The last few minutes of the finale were surprisingly moving and satisfying in a bittersweet way. Basically the ending was much better than it had any right to be and for that, I give this show major points that forgive the inconsistencies. It's hard to nail an ending, but man, did they ever. Between this, Dark Matter and Orphan Black, it appears Canadian Sci Fi is kicking some ass.

The Leftovers: Worth Heating Up

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Fri, 20 Nov 2015 00:27:00 +0000

There was once this show, back in like 2004, that hooked me from the start and held the promise of mysteries and character development and twisty plots we all dream will have a massive payoff at the end. But for reasons I won't get into, the payoff was not there. Instead we got a swerve at the end that demonstrated that all the stuff in between was just mental masturbation leading to this ending that the writers somehow thought was much more poignant than it was. And, if you criticized any of this you were called a nitpicker or worse by fans and the writers themselves. Well, that show was Lost and among my circle of bruhs (the new band), it was the birth of "Fuck Lindelof" (Executive Producer, Damon Lindelof, who for some reason it just made sense to single out). And he would prove himself time and time again, or maybe just time, with such "gems" as Star Trek Into Darkness (Fuck Lindelof) and Prometheus (No, really, FUCK THAT GUY!).

But, it's meant with love. Because writing is hard and writing in the world of mainstream network TV is probably a nightmare for anyone with any sort of vision. Plus, I liked Tomorrowland. So, when HBO announced a series created by Lindelof, that dealt (possibly) with the rapture, I was at the very least curious, but I wasn't sure if I was going to do it. I'm a sucker for the subject matter, but was I going to go through another Lost? At least this time, he was saying up front we'd never get answers to the central mystery. So when The Leftovers came out, I gave it a shot. And from the very beginning I was unsure but intrigued. This was one of the most depressing shows I'd ever seen but that was a good thing. And the show has only gotten better. The second season has really amped things up with unfolding layers to a world where it's just a fact of life that several years ago a bunch of people just vanished and nobody understands why or how. Yet life goes on and humans still do the shitty and sometimes wonderful things humans do to each other while trying to make sense of the world.

It's a show about faith, and not in a disparaging way, which is weird for me to be into as a hardcore antitheist, but here we are. The thing is, ultimately, it's about these people's lives and how they deal with reality. Yes, the mysteries are intriguing and there are bizarre things that happen all the time. And even though these supernatural incidents move the story forward, you never get the sense that they're the point of everything the way you did with Lost. It's not about the island. It's not about the polar bear. It's about the Dharma Initiative, it's about the Dharma of life. So maybe it's not so much about faith as it is about getting past faith and just believing in humanity somehow. I don't know and not knowing is why it works so well.

Make no mistake, the show is a lot like Lost so it could go south in a bad way. I'm sure it's not going to end up being a favorite show for me or even close, but it so far is allowing me to be focused on the journey and not the destination. There are moments and episodes that are gut wrenching and real and creepy and beautiful. It really is worth a shot. So, maybe fuck Lindelof a little less now.

Dark Affairs

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sat, 14 Nov 2015 19:09:00 +0000

We're about half way through season 1 of Showtime's The Affair, starring McNulty (Dominic West) and that lady from Luther (Ruth Wilson). It turns out the show is not just a Bridges of Madison County type of romanticizing of infidelity. There's a mystery involved and the structure of the show is pretty interesting in a Rashomon sort of way. It's pretty twisty and focuses on complex human relationships. Still. . . .

I guess I'm more of a prude than I thought. Or, I don't know, I value loyalty and trust. The idea of an affair, especially under the circumstances presented on the show make the characters immediately unlikeable to me. Not that liking the characters is a requirement of a good story, but in this case, where we're sort of trying to piece together who the reliable narrator is, if any, I think it puts the whole story in an odd place for me. I just don't believe either of them. And maybe I shouldn't. I'm only half way through the first season, so I might be jumping the gun. We shall see.

Speaking of trust, SyFy Channel's Dark Matter is a fun show. It's the kind of show I used to find by accident while channel surfing, but as a semi-cordcutter (I technically still have basic cable, but never watch it), I now have the luxury of complete control over what I watch and when. Anyway, Dark Matter opens up with the crew of a spaceship waking up from stasis with no memory of who they are. It then unfolds over the season like an onion with layers of complexity and surprising depth. It's never AMAZING, but it is pretty damned entertaining and the characters really grow on you quickly. Looking forward to the second season next year.

Catching Up Again

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Fri, 16 Oct 2015 19:52:00 +0000

So, here's some blurbs on things I've watched over the past, I don't know, while.

Will they make it?

I was afraid Fear The Walking Dead would turn into too much of an exploration of whys and hows of the zombie apocalypse, which is sort of contrary to the whole point of The Walking Dead. To my surprise, there was no real explanation of how this infection or whatever started. But we did start to see how civilization starts to break down and how fragile the bonds that keep us civil actually are to begin with. The minute survival is at stake and the shit hits the fan, it's a free for all. And no matter how much people try to hold on to social contracts, eventually, they will get pushed to a breaking point. How they come out of that breaking point will determine if they survive or not. I am excited to see this show continue since I have no idea where it will go next. Ruben Blades is the man, period.

The Inbetweeners is a show from the UK about 4 boys in their late teens, dealing with being 4 boys in their late teens. It's funny as fuck and it's much more real than anything I've ever seen on the topic before. In a way it's a relative of Freaks and Geeks and Superbad, but British, which is somehow even better. Every episode makes me wish I wish a Brit more. They really do get the best cursing and turns of phrase.

Brilliant.

I liked about 75% of Sons of Anarchy. I think it went too long and that finale was a fit of heavy handed, pretentious vomit. Still, there was enough interesting stuff in there that Kurt Sutter's next series seemed like it deserved a shot. But, The Bastard Executioner had me bored, angry and asleep within 30 minutes. It just comes across as the next in a long line of Not Game of Thrones shows. To be fair, Vikings, which I like a lot, is in that line. But Vikings got me with a historical perspective, interesting characters and, well, Lagertha, from the get go. Nothing like that in Bastard Executioner. No thanks.

Speaking of Sons of Anarchy, Hand of God on Amazon, starring Ron Perlman is a bizarre show about a judge who hears the voice of his brain dead son, giving him information about the people responsible for raping his daughter in law and thereby leading to said brain dead son to commit suicide. It's not very good, though. But I can't help but think that this is where Kurt Sutter would make this a good show. He'd find a way to take the over the top concept and situations and somehow make them so absurd they'd be more believable. There was potential here.

The Martian: Get To Work

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sun, 11 Oct 2015 22:15:00 +0000

I love space. I also love survival movies. Man vs nature. Disaster porn. Apocalypse. Whatever. Watching someone survive against all odds can be a great reminder of human resilience. Usually these movies come with a heavy dose of survival of the fittest and not much focus on brains though (unless it's a zombie apocalypse, but that's different). There might be a little ingenuity, but for the most part the focus is on hunting skills, brute strength and endurance with maybe one nerdy character the others keep around because they need him but who wouldn't survive otherwise. And that's where something like The Martian comes along to remind us that the most important muscle in a tough situation of any kind is your brain.

Matt Damon plays a better, much more charming, version of his character from Interstellar, getting left behind all alone on Mars and having to figure out how to survive, communicate and finally assist in his own rescue. But he's not the only person you connect with in this movie by a long shot. This is basically Apollo 13 times one million, so we right there with mission control and engineers and rocket scientists (always greater than brain surgeons on my scale) working serious science on tight schedules. What we get is an opportunity to feel really great about what humanity is capable of when people pull together and figure shit out. Yes, there are risks, because there always are, but if we do the math and focus we can probably figure it out. Of course, the assumption is that you're working with people who are highly motivated, skilled and trustworthy. But this is NASA. There's no fucking around.

There are several moments in the film where head of NASA, Teddy Sanderson (Jeff Daniels) has to weigh whether to put resources and lives on the line to rescue one man. His focus is always on the big picture and at one point he mentions that failure will mean the public and the government not buying into the importance of the space program and they lose funding. He's not wrong. He's not a villain at any point no matter which side of a decision he was on. He really does have the hardest job. At one point he says it's bigger than one person and Mitch Henderson (Sean Bean), one of the guys running the mission says "No, it's not." He knows and in some sense has the luxury (that Sanderson doesn't) to say that as big as this is, it's still about that one man. It's about how the big picture connects us back to our humanity. That bringing him back can be something that can unite the world in triumph. Or that not trying kills the purity of the big picture. I'll say no more. It's really better to just watch it unfold for yourself.

A few months ago I wrote about Tomorrowland that it was the start of a conversation about science and our future. Even at the time, I wasn't sure the film was even that great, but I was fully on board and ready for that message. Before that, I was nuts about Interstellar for similar reasons, though that transcended into much more personal and emotional territory. Three films, this far apart, are far from a trend, but I'm going to pretend it is one. I'm going to act as if this is a turning point in our culture where we actually herald science as a hope for fixing our future instead of the cause of all our problems. Too often movies are about how scientists were "playing god" when they shouldn't have, while trying to fix a problem. You'd think the rise of the nerds and geek culture would have turned this around sooner, instead of just giving us countless superhero movies, but here we are. And maybe I'm overstating it. Maybe there are plenty of examples of recent good scientists in movies, inspiring the next generation. But I don't think I am wrong. I think any examples that come up will be exceptions to the mainstream rule that science is evil and spirituality is good. As if those two things really were somehow two sides of the same coin. They're not. Never have been.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to watching this with my daughters at some point. I'm not sure Shayera is necessarily ready to see it in the theater, mainly because she might get bored at some point. Then again, she's unpredictable. But I think we should all be showing this and other films like it to our kids. Inspire them to science the shit out of our futures. It's time to get to work.

Podcatching: Goodfellas Minute

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Fri, 09 Oct 2015 00:38:00 +0000

Every year around Christmas, usually the day after, I have a tradition that goes pretty far back. Maybe not as far as I can remember, but probably close to 20 years. It's something I do on my own, because it's my thing but I am looking forward to the day and hoping it works out, that I can share in and pass this tradition on to my daughters. I'm talking, of course, about my yearly Goodfellas re-watch. But the thing is, I skipped it last year. I skipped it and it's been gnawing at me for months. Hanging over my head like a helicopter every time I hear a reference or a direct quote. But I found relief. I found comfort for the next few months in the form of the Goodfellas Minute podcast, where three fellas (also good) go over the film one minute a time, in detail. And what's better, these are guys that I've heard before and kinda missed hearing.

Back when I was more deeply into comics, I used to listen to iFanboy's weekly podcasts every Monday morning, religiously. I was just starting to blog about comics and learned a lot from listening and reading their reviews. This was serious comics journalism that went into story structure and really looked at comics from a more literary point of view, don't let the name fool you, but they still had fun. I joked at the time (to myself and I may have posted it on the iFanboy community at some point) that I came for the comics, but stayed for the Goodfellas references. And it was true. But also, because the guys, Conor, Ron and Josh, were just fun to listen to, in addition to knowing their shit about comics. They have chemistry that is palpable and infectious. They're just real funny guys, like the way they say things, you know.

What it feels like when you listen to these guys. Minus the impending violence.

Podcasts are a weird thing. You listen to any for a period of time and you start to think you know these people. That doesn't happen when you watch a late night talk show or anything else. It feels very intimate, like you're just hanging out with these people that are talking about this stuff. In your car. Add social media to the mix and I could see how it could get crazy. These guys could be the Beatles in certain circles. The point is, although I don't know these guys, I know them enough that when I heard about this Goodfellas thing I immediately had to listen and when I did, it was like I was still going on those long morning drives to drop off Shayera at my mom's house before work, back when she was just a baby. Which reminds me, I have to catch up with the Filmpsotting crew at some point soon, my other road buddies from that time.

The Master at Work

Anyway, the Goodfellas Minute is so far on minute 13 as I write this with new episodes coming out every weekday. I caught up with it after finding about it this weekend, so 13 minutes in 4 days. Not bad. The episodes are short, because how much can you say about one minute of film, although they say much more than I thought possible. The format is based on The Star Wars Minute podcast which I've never heard, but might give a shot. But what makes this work so well is that Conor, Ron and Josh all have somewhat personal connections to the material. They all live(d) in New York, but beyond that Josh apparently lived in the neighborhood where they shot the scenes of young Henry Hill. Ron is Italian as fuck and his dad - well, I won't spoil anything, but by episode 5 his dad already emailed the show with some extra information. I'm sure we'll hear from him again. And Connor loves Italian food and once rode an escalator with Scorsese. So, you know, experts.

This isn't highbrow film criticism, but yet, these are smart, educated dudes who know a few things about story telling and pictures. Plus, the concept of going over a film minute by minute is bound to reveal details both intended and not that add to the overall appreciation and understanding of the film. Already, I can't wait to see the movie again because they've mentioned some things I don't think I've noticed in my countless times watching the movie. Fuck, this might backfire. Is it Christmas yet?

The Exorcist: Blog Therapy Session

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Sun, 20 Sep 2015 19:12:00 +0000

I guess I was about 10 or 12 when I first "saw" The Exorcist. Maybe younger. It was going to be on TV and my parents made a big deal about how they were going to see it. I'd heard the stories about my aunt sneaking in my cousins to see it in the theater years before and even back then, without the Internets, I was still pretty aware of pop culture so I kind of knew what it was about and that it was supposed to be fucked up. So I was anxious for a few days in anticipation. Finally when it aired, I really only got glimpses of it from behind my mom on the couch, but I certainly heard the whole thing. And since I wasn't really an atheist at the time, it certainly freaked me out. Plus the glimpses I did catch were seared into my brain for all eternity.

Anyway, flash forward a few years later when I was 17 (it wasn't a very good year) and Exorcist III is coming out. My friend wanted to see it but had never seen the first one. Somehow I agreed to watch it with him, but the condition was that it would be during the day (as it if that would matter). This time I actually watched the whole thing beginning to end. We had to take about 5 breaks during this viewing and were left disturbed for weeks. I haven't seen it since and have never planned to. Seeing images of the movie online is sometimes enough to give me nightmares.

I have a pretty good idea why this movie still haunts me. I may not believe in actual, literal demonic possession, but the idea of losing your mind or watching someone else change before your eyes like that is very real and that is a major nightmare for me. But I'll skip going into depth on this analysis for now. This post is going to be a journey. One that I feel I have to take if not for me, then for the sake of my daughters. I try to help them face their fears as they arise, with as much understanding as possible but I feel like in order to keep doing this, especially as they get older, I need to be able to honestly say I faced mine. So, today, I will be watching The Exorcist, alone, and writing my thoughts down. I am guessing this post will be long, so strap in.

Been anxious all morning for this. It's now 10:55 am, everyone's off to Disney on Ice so here goes. I grabbed a big glass of water and we begin. . .

My view.

20 minutes in: So far, nothing has happened. I feel tense but only because I am not quite sure when the first disturbance will happen, because I don't remember these details. All in all, without knowing anything this seems like a pretty boring movie so far. Oh fuck, a Ouija board just appeared. . . .

28 minutes: "My bed was shaking, I can't get to sleep." I remember this line. Noises in the attic. Mom's gonna go check. Don't do it! Don't! Damn, that's a big ass attic. No rats.

33 minutes: Church desecration. This likely would have scared me if I still believed in that stuff. I'm pretty sure I was frightened by the idea of blasphemy as a kid, even though we were never really religious or anything. And here's the tie in to mental illness as Father Karras visits his mother in the mental hospital. This sort of thing has always gotten to me. I might have seen that infamous Geraldo expose of Willowbrook at a young age too.

38 minutes: "You're gonna die up there" and peeing on the carpet. And now "Mother, what's wrong with me?" Right after the mental illness stuff. See, I'm not imagining this connection and I think this is what really gets me about this movie. Fuck, the bed is shaking. FUCK. THAT. SHIT. I remember that shit vividly.

42 minutes: This shit is ramping up from all sides. Karras has a creepy dream. Reagan is going through doctors and shit. I'm in it now. Science trying to explain the bed shaking. Maybe subliminally the fact that there would be no scientific explanation for something like that scared me. Being older and wiser and knowing that there would be a scientific explanation helps. But then applying reality to fiction is a mistake. That paradox is probably what makes this so disturbing since the film is very subdued and matter of fact to make it seem very real. Oh, body horror medical procedure. Needle to the neck. Machines. Brain scans.

49 minutes: FUCK THIS SHIT! Doctor house calls. FUCK! She's thrashing on the bed. The throat expands and the eyes go white. FUUUUUUUUUCCKKK! The voice. FUCKFUCK. I'm fairly certain this is the point I hid behind my mom in a cold sweat. I need a break.

Fuck. . .

So, while I take this break, let me think about this. The whole point is to get over the fear, so this is a good time. Unfortunately, I already see another dimension of fear to this as a father and looking at this as a mental illness thing. It was hard enough watching my dad fade away to Alzheimer's, so I can't imagine what it might be like to watch your child suffer like this and not be able to do anything about it. Has this experiment backfired on me? Is this going to haunt me for a whole other set of reasons now? Fuck, I hope not. You know what, fuck it, let's dive back in. I already know it's about to get worse but now, I'm more anxious to get it over with than anything else. Stopping is not an option.

50 minutes: Doctors are still trying to explain this shit away with "pathological states" and "temporal lobe." The thing is, that is not any less scary than demonic possession. In many ways, that would actually be more scary.

57 minutes: Hypnotized Reagan. It's the subtle looks from Linda Blair that unnerve more than anything. Also, a detective is following up on the death of Burke, the director, with Father Karras. He brings up witchcraft and the church desecration. This stuff seems a bit silly. Like it's from a different movie, really.

65 minutes: The doctors suggest exorcism. It's thought that if the patient believes they are possessed, then the solution is to play along in a way. More to add to the mental illness fears.

74 minutes: "Let Jesus fuck you." Yeah, not as disturbing as I remember this part. I think maybe when it goes too far from being on the edge of reality, of being a more subtle thing about mental illness, and into full on supernatural shock horror, it loses something. The head spinning around is a bit much. Maybe. I don't know. I'm not feeling as anxious.

80 minutes: Karras has come over to visit. Full on face and voice now. It's a little scary, but I'm not overwhelmed by fear. Although, gross as fuck with the throw up. Still on the mental illness thing as Karras insists that's what is wrong with her.

85 minutes: Ok, fuck, I'm sweating again. It's the quiet conversations he has with her that I remember most from when I was a kid. I remember it all aurally more then visually so those stand out. And the layered voices. So now the whole thing with the tape recording and the backwards shit. That's a strong memory. A strong memory of fuck.

92 minutes: "Help me" pops up on her stomach. I remember that as being one of the glimpses I got. Not as unnerving now.

94 minutes: Merrin (Merlin?) arrives. The priests prepare, almost like a Rambo suiting up type sequence. Gotta find the humor in this before the intensity kicks up, I guess. But I'm beginning to think the worst, for me, is already passed. Then again, the noises. Fuck the noises.

97 minutes: Karras looks like he might shit himself. Fuck the voices and the noises. This is the evil side of how sound affects me. The bed is floating. Karras is shitting himself. The fucking sounds. Crap. Yet, something comforting in Merrin's confidence. In his faith. Odd for me to say that, but it's giving me something to grasp here, even as she floats towards the ceiling. "The power of Christ compels you!" Merrin is a fucking warrior. He doesn't fucking blink. In a sense, I guess this is the comfort of religion. A comfort I can't accept in any way, but I understand. Karras needs a change of underwear, though.

107 minute: Karras goes in alone and sees his mother. Merrin is kicking him out. Karras is weak. He's human. Merrin is going it alone. It's clear to me he will win, one way or another. I'm not really scared but then this has gone way beyond the subtlety.

111 minutes: Fuck. Merrin is dead! I didn't remember this shit. Karras has to step up. Beating a 12 year old girl will solve it. Way to go. So Karras sacrifices himself. Not sure what to make of that. But then the plot was never what I got into this for. This is over and done. I'm not even that sweaty.

Sometimes you do have to let this guy drive, though.

So what did I learn from this? I don't know. Clearly the movie wasn't as scary as I remembered it, but there were some very disturbing concepts involved with the mental illness angle. Once it goes over the top in full on possession, it does lose the edge of ambiguity. But, the power of childhood trauma is evident in the fact that the sounds I remember still hold a lot of power. I still get freaked out by the voice and the growling and moaning that goes on in the background a lot. It's really a testament to the sound design of the movie that they put that much attention to details that would unnerve in subtle ways.

Is it the scariest movie ever made? I think so. I'm here blogging about it and trying to come to terms with my fear of it more than 40 years after it was made. That says something. Of course, it also says something about how we push our kids into ignoring their fears rather than facing them. There is a difference. My parents maybe didn't know any better than to dismiss the fact that I was hiding behind them while this played, and since they didn't speak English, they likely had no idea what was being said, but how often do we tell our kids they're being silly for being afraid of something without taking the time to talk to them about why they are afraid? Maybe if that had been done I wouldn't have been "traumatized" by this movie. And I use the term loosely because at the end of the day it was clearly not a paralyzing fear, one that's easy enough to avoid and I obviously play it up a bit for effect. (Hell, in college I read the novel and then the book that the novel was based on that told the story of a supposedly true possession.) But we do this all the time to kids with fear of the dark, dogs, thunder, whatever. Maybe talking to them would help eliminate part of the irrationality of fear so they don't wind up confused later on when a rational fears pop up. I don't know. All I know is now I think I'm over this one. Maybe not the sounds, but still.

Vikings Season 3: Bizarre Love Triangle

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Mon, 07 Sep 2015 22:48:00 +0000

Disappointingly, season 3 of Vikings was not subtitled Lagertha: Queen of the Viking World. She remains a badass, but also a supporting character. Still, the season was much better, overall, than season 2. The filming and editing was either less stylized or I got used to it, but given the rate at which we went through the entire series to date, I don't think I had enough time to not notice any over the top flourishes.

SEXY!

Looking at it now, a whole lot more happened in this season than the previous two. And yet, it didn't feel too rushed, like the last season of Game of Thrones did. Ragnar is now king, after the events of last season's finale. He leads a voyage back to Wessex, but this time, not to raid. They are there to claim what King Ecbert promised them and the whole time you're waiting for the treachery to unfold. Ecbert is one of the great slimy characters that manages to fool you for short periods of time with his charm, but you can always feel his sleaze just itching to come up again. He winds up taking an interest in Lagertha, and who can blame him. But she ultimately sees right through him, proving yet again why she's a badass, even though she may not have necessarily predicted how far he was planning on going. But he did go far and I can't wait to see how Ragnar gets his revenge and I hope Lagertha is a big part of it.

The season also saw a major death (actually 2, but one was really more important than the other) that rocks Ragnar to his core and leads to the big twist of the finale. This show has had a sort of underlying theme of the battle of religions which was somehow combined with an exploration of friendship/love between men that may or may not be homoerotic. There's a lot of talk about love and it's often hard to distinguish between romantic and platonic. Hell, right after he captures Athelstan in season 1, he invites him to a threesome with him and Lagertha, so even though it hasn't been explicitly explored, I get the sense sexuality is very fluid in this world. The fact is there was a love triangle going on between Ragnar, Floki and Athelstan. Maybe it was a battle for Ragnar's soul and maybe it was for his body. But maybe, the fact that Floki ultimately wins the physical battle but loses the spiritual one is telling. I've never seen this level of love portrayed between men in this way and it's been a major strength of the show.

And then there's the siege of Frankia. This plot, where Ragnar lets Floki take the lead in this raid on Paris, knowing full well he will fail was entertaining, thrilling and tense. We know Ragnar has a purpose here but we're never quite sure what it is. And while it's hard to imagine that he would have had all the details worked out to know exactly what would happen or that he would selfishly put his people in such danger just for his own selfish ends, you do get the sense that his motivations have evolved past that of his countrymen considerably. He's always been motivated by the search for knowledge and now there was something else as well. Or was there? How much of what he did was a ruse? Where in season 2 the ruse seemed after the fact, here it was always barely visible so it was much closer to believable once it unfolded. It was even expected to be honest. Still, some things didn't make a whole lot of sense, but this show is not perfect and I can forgive it.

So now we're all caught up, just waiting for the next season sometime next year. Great, another show to get anxious about. Maybe season 4 will be the Lagertha: Warrior Princess show that must happen.

I was.

Vikings Season 2: The GPS Voyage

noreply@blogger.com (Sound Affects) — Tue, 18 Aug 2015 23:34:00 +0000

It's funny how sometimes a show starts out really simply and then slowly gets bigger and more complex and more produced. You can almost see the behind the scenes conversations as success begins to take root and the producers get bolder or more ratings hungry. Or more likely, network suits come in and tell them to do so. I'm not saying this is necessarily what happened with Vikings season 2, but something changed. It was still good, but there were a few things that kind of took me out of it.

Christian Warrior.

First there was suddenly a more stylized approach to the filming and editing that either wasn't there before or I didn't notice. There is one scene in particular where Ragnar's son and brother, Bjorn and Rollo are sparring on a beach and the camera keeps doing these quick tracking shots from the water. There were also several music video like montages with slow motion for no apparent reason. Rather distracting for a show where the main appeal for me was the simplicity of the lifestyle presented. I think these stylistic turns work well in Peaky Blinders because the setting, industrial revolution era England, is already somewhat jarring in itself. Here, the setting is all natural and outside in these beautiful locations. Just let that be the wow factor instead of showing off.

Another detraction has been some major plot holes and faulty logic. At one point, Ragnar and the others go on a raid to England and they get caught in a major storm, which throws them off course and they wind up landing in the kingdom of Wessex instead of Northumbria, where they were headed. Fine, they decide, and just raid that kingdom instead. No big deal there. Except later on, another ship arrives, headed right for their encampment in Wessex to deliver news of what happened back home since they left. HOW!? Did this ship have GPS and tracking? I honestly couldn't stop thinking about that for the rest of the season. Game of Thrones has so far been very successful in giving us a sense of the vastness of the geography involved when you're traveling by, let's just call it ancient means. When characters in Westeros happen to bump into each other in the wilderness it's usually a big deal that they found each other. But here it's almost like they had called each other and agreed to meet at a certain time sometimes. And while they've more or less addressed the language issue between the Norse and English, there are times it gets a little thin. I mean how quickly did Ragnar learn English? So I guess watching this for this historical consistency might be a mistake.

The hot viking lady will kill you.

On the other hand, this season had the rise of Lagertha. My only complaint about this excellent storyline is that not enough time is devoted to it. I say scrap the whole Ragnar thing and make the whole show about her. To be honest, by the end of the season, she might be the only reason I'm still into it. Other characters, like Floki, had some iffy motivations throughout the season only to reveal, last minute, that they were only playing along with a deception. Yeah, ok. But Game of Thrones does that WAAAAY better. I get that they have to inject some drama into this but it came off a bit overly drawn out, without any added impact.

Still, I think the show is doing some interesting things here playing with ancient history and extrapolating some details from it. Inconsistencies aside, the show excels when it focuses on the pagan morality. It's not as simple as what we have come to know as an honorable warrior code that we see paralleled in Star Trek's Klingons or even in Game of Throne's Dothraki. It's also not a hippie, witchy nature fest. It's somewhere in the middle and yet neither and yet all of those. It really is its own thing and like I mentioned about season 1, it's weird to find yourself rooting for people when they commit heinous acts, but you do. And you also find yourself respecting the villains when they face death unafraid and true to their code.

By the end of the season it appears this show has gotten much bigger in many ways. Ambition is the driving force for Ragnar, but it's an ambition for knowledge, not power. The power he attains just happens to be what he has figured out is necessary in order to gain the knowledge he seeks of the world beyond. That's all well and good, but if they open next season with more Lagertha, just being a badass and we never get back to Ragnar's quest for knowledge, I'd probably love the show forever.

Told you not to fuck with her.