I was recently watching the South Park episode where they spoof Inception. And during the episode one of the characters says, "just because an idea is overly convoluted and complex doesn't mean it's cool". The episode is pretty funny, noting some of the flaws of Inception's premise, but the problem is that all criticisms such as this forget the whole reason why Inception's premise is supposed to work in spite of its flaws: suspension of disbelief. Suspension of disbelief is the whole foundation of not just films, but art in general. When I look at the Mona Lisa, I know its just paint on a canvas, but I allow myself to get past this to appreciate the piece and how it creates a seemingly 3D image, even though it isn't one. Sure, entering the dreamscapes, how they're created, the concept of limbo, etc. are all flawed ideas, but if you can get past this the film presents an entirely entertaining and thrilling action packed ride, filled with interesting ideas, and cool set pieces.
Art is always going to be on some level unsatisfying because it is incomplete or flawed. Life is flawed, and unsatisfying, and art is supposed to reflect life. It's a cliched saying, but it holds credence because it's true. Planet of the Apes is a slightly farfetched concept. Apes aren't walking and talking like humans, and they don't rule over what we now know as the earth, but the film speaks to human's thinking their superior to others, as well as our ability to destroy ourselves by our own hands. Just because a film seems to have no basis in reality doesn't mean it lacks realism. Animated films have no "real" elements to them. Their CGI generated images or hand drawn pictures. But you're not going to tell me that Pixar hasn't made some of the most emotionally satisfying and humanistic films of the past 30 years.
And films are meant to be unreal. They are meant to tell wonderful and fantastic stories. Films are partially about escapism, entering a whole different world for a few hours. However, when you start to nitpick every little detail of a film, you are bound to lose your suspension of disbelief. Granted, when a film has so little going for it that nitpicking becomes so excessive then the movie just might be bad; but Inception certainly has more to praise than it does to scrutinize. It's got a great script, solid acting, dazzling action sequences, a wonderful score, and its far more thoughtful than your standard summer blockbuster fare.
This also reminds me of another Christopher Nolan film: The Dark Knight. The Dark Knight, to be honest, is a flawed movie. It is not nearly as good as the public at large has made it out to be. However, the film is far more important as a cultural phenomena than a film. As a film, it's probably a 3 or 3 and half star film out of 4 stars, but given the reception by the public and the cultural legacy it caries, it cannot, in my opinion, be denied its place as a 4 star film. People were able to see past the film's flaws in order to see some underlying greatness in the movie. We arbitrate as a society what culture is good and what culture is bad. Now Inception has certainly received a generally good welcome, but you will now and again see that critic, and its not even a thoughtful critic, but a trolling fanboy who has too much time on his hands who will note some minute detail that no one seriously cares about. I don't need to know how the technology works that allows them to enter the dreams. Who cares how Tom Hardy's character can project himself as another person? What does it matter that the effects of the first dream are only making everything spin around crazy in the second dream, and not the other ones? All that matters to me is that it's a great excuse to see an incredible action sequence with Joseph Gordon Levitt that's the highlight of the film.
You can either sink or you can swim. Suspend your disbelief or don't. But you're going to be hard-pressed to find good movies if you aren't willing to look past their flaws. Unless the flaws become truly insurmountable, just ignore them and go along for the ride.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Laughter vs. Tears: What Makes for the Better Film?
“People seem to think it’s more difficult to make movies without jokes in them,” Judd Apatow once sagely noted, “But that’s just not true.”
When you look at the Oscar nominated films, time and again they're dramatic films. The Academy and many film viewers alike have it stuck in their minds that dramas are far more serious and notable work, and like Apatow, I have to disagree. Comedies are just as difficult, if not more so, than their dramatic counterparts. It's easy to tug on someones heartstrings; it's much harder to make a person laugh. And not just laugh at a movie, but continually and excessively laugh at a movie.
Critic's were surprised at how funny the recent "raunchy" films Aptaow produced, wrote, and directed were. The films had a number of "gross out" moments that they suspected would turn off viewers and stop the films from being funny, but the box office proved otherwise and people laughed in spite of the fart jokes. Take for example, the recent, much talked about scene from Bridesmaids where a bout of food poisoning causes the bridesmaids to breakdown puking and shitting in a bridal shop. The scene is one of the funniest of the movie. Even my mother who you'd never suspect to approve of such a raunchy scene was laughing hysterically. Apatow realized that as long as these sort of jokes and scenes had a sense of realism to them, a heart to them, people would be laughing in spite of themselves. How is that possible? Because when comedy is done right, you will laugh like crazy, even if you're questioning whether you should be laughing as hard as you are.
When you watch a middling drama, you don't question it too much. You wish it was better, but you forgive it. When a comedy is middling, you regret watching it. A comedy is, for all intents and purposes, supposed to make you laugh. When it fails to achieve this, you can not forgive it. In fact, you're probably a bit peeved. This distinction is rather important because it's why comedies are so difficult to make.
However, comedies are short shrifted every year. The last real comedy to even win Best Picture was Woody Allen's Annie Hall in 1978. That was 34 years ago. Consider the Oscar frontrunners this year. Much like every year before, 2011's Oscar hopefuls are mostly dramas. Think about the comedies that stand even a small chance for nomination. The Artist potentially. Bridesmaids may be. Young Adult perhaps. The Muppets with a long shot. Family fare such as Hugo, and We Bought a Zoo. The Help has potential, but its more of a drama with some comedic moments. But there's really no stand out candidate that you could ever see the Academy getting behind, and therefore the public at large as well.
But why is this? Why do we designate so much weight to dramas? When I think of the movies that are the movies I turn to time and again to watch, a fair amount of them are comedies. And even the more serious ones are action flicks like Indiana Jones, The Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars. Lets face it: Schindler's List is undoubtedly one of the best movies I've ever seen, and probably one of the greatest ever made. Few would be willing to argue otherwise. But I'd take a good showing of Annie Hall, The Apartment, Groundhog Day, or The Princess Bride way before I'd commit myself to a showing of The Deer Hunter or The Bicycle Thieves.
There is a reason movies like Caddyshack are so endlessly quotable, they're really funny, and because they are funny, we turn to them time and again. Dramas we can perhaps watch once and think are phenomenal, but we may never ever watch them again. So what film is the truly great film? The one you watch once and think is brilliant or the film you watch so many times you lose count. And which one honestly should be considered the superior film?
When you look at the Oscar nominated films, time and again they're dramatic films. The Academy and many film viewers alike have it stuck in their minds that dramas are far more serious and notable work, and like Apatow, I have to disagree. Comedies are just as difficult, if not more so, than their dramatic counterparts. It's easy to tug on someones heartstrings; it's much harder to make a person laugh. And not just laugh at a movie, but continually and excessively laugh at a movie.
Critic's were surprised at how funny the recent "raunchy" films Aptaow produced, wrote, and directed were. The films had a number of "gross out" moments that they suspected would turn off viewers and stop the films from being funny, but the box office proved otherwise and people laughed in spite of the fart jokes. Take for example, the recent, much talked about scene from Bridesmaids where a bout of food poisoning causes the bridesmaids to breakdown puking and shitting in a bridal shop. The scene is one of the funniest of the movie. Even my mother who you'd never suspect to approve of such a raunchy scene was laughing hysterically. Apatow realized that as long as these sort of jokes and scenes had a sense of realism to them, a heart to them, people would be laughing in spite of themselves. How is that possible? Because when comedy is done right, you will laugh like crazy, even if you're questioning whether you should be laughing as hard as you are.
When you watch a middling drama, you don't question it too much. You wish it was better, but you forgive it. When a comedy is middling, you regret watching it. A comedy is, for all intents and purposes, supposed to make you laugh. When it fails to achieve this, you can not forgive it. In fact, you're probably a bit peeved. This distinction is rather important because it's why comedies are so difficult to make.
However, comedies are short shrifted every year. The last real comedy to even win Best Picture was Woody Allen's Annie Hall in 1978. That was 34 years ago. Consider the Oscar frontrunners this year. Much like every year before, 2011's Oscar hopefuls are mostly dramas. Think about the comedies that stand even a small chance for nomination. The Artist potentially. Bridesmaids may be. Young Adult perhaps. The Muppets with a long shot. Family fare such as Hugo, and We Bought a Zoo. The Help has potential, but its more of a drama with some comedic moments. But there's really no stand out candidate that you could ever see the Academy getting behind, and therefore the public at large as well.
But why is this? Why do we designate so much weight to dramas? When I think of the movies that are the movies I turn to time and again to watch, a fair amount of them are comedies. And even the more serious ones are action flicks like Indiana Jones, The Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars. Lets face it: Schindler's List is undoubtedly one of the best movies I've ever seen, and probably one of the greatest ever made. Few would be willing to argue otherwise. But I'd take a good showing of Annie Hall, The Apartment, Groundhog Day, or The Princess Bride way before I'd commit myself to a showing of The Deer Hunter or The Bicycle Thieves.
There is a reason movies like Caddyshack are so endlessly quotable, they're really funny, and because they are funny, we turn to them time and again. Dramas we can perhaps watch once and think are phenomenal, but we may never ever watch them again. So what film is the truly great film? The one you watch once and think is brilliant or the film you watch so many times you lose count. And which one honestly should be considered the superior film?
Friday, January 6, 2012
The Segel Factor
One of the finest stars currently out there is Jason Segel. Segel got his start on the short lived, cult classic Freaks and Geeks, produced by none other than Judd Apatow (the guy most people remember for the gross out, male comedies of 40 Year Old Virgin, and Knocked Up, among many others). Then for awhile there, Segel sort of disappeared from the industry, which is shame because Segel is funny, talented, and endearingly charming.
However, Segel returned with a new found stamina. He starred in the critically-acclaimed, and wonderfully heartfelt and humorous television series How I Met Your Mother. Although, Neil Patrick Harris gets most of the attention for the series outside of the creators Carter Bays and Craig Thomas, Segel's Marshall Erikson is an underrated character played to a tee by Segel. Segel's Marshall is a self-deprecating and lovable loser with a heart of gold, who cares about his friends and family. Segel has some of the funniest lines outside of Harris, who's character is, while admittedly well-played by Harris, a bit overrated and overshadows the other actors and characters.
Using his new found success through the show, Segel began starring in and writing a number of really great movies. He appeared in a number of Apatow helmed works, including I Love You, Man, and Knocked Up. He wrote and starred in the hilarious and sweet Forgetting Sarah Marshall, where he was even able to show off his musical talent, singing and playing the piano for the awesome rendition of Dracula's Lament, a song based on a real-life puppet Dracula musical that Segel performed. Segel wrote most of the songs for the film's spiritual sequel Get Him to the Greek.
Segel's musical chops would be put to further good use as he wrote and starred in the fantastic new rendition of the Muppets: The Muppets. Segel managed to reinvigorate a franchise that hadn't seen a film put into theaters in over a decade, and not only was it a commercial success, but critically lauded as one of the best films of the year. Plus: it's the freaking Muppets, one of the most beloved and iconic cultural staples, and Segel wrote the film with a genuine love and appreciation for the characters and the franchise.
What can't Segel do? He acts. He writes. He composes and plays music. He's incredibly funny and charming, and I look forward to anything he plans to be part of in the future. He recently joined twitter, and his account is one of the best twitter accounts worth following. He wrote and is starring alongside Emily Blunt in The Five Year Engagement. If his track record has proven anything, it'll be worth watching.
However, Segel returned with a new found stamina. He starred in the critically-acclaimed, and wonderfully heartfelt and humorous television series How I Met Your Mother. Although, Neil Patrick Harris gets most of the attention for the series outside of the creators Carter Bays and Craig Thomas, Segel's Marshall Erikson is an underrated character played to a tee by Segel. Segel's Marshall is a self-deprecating and lovable loser with a heart of gold, who cares about his friends and family. Segel has some of the funniest lines outside of Harris, who's character is, while admittedly well-played by Harris, a bit overrated and overshadows the other actors and characters.
Using his new found success through the show, Segel began starring in and writing a number of really great movies. He appeared in a number of Apatow helmed works, including I Love You, Man, and Knocked Up. He wrote and starred in the hilarious and sweet Forgetting Sarah Marshall, where he was even able to show off his musical talent, singing and playing the piano for the awesome rendition of Dracula's Lament, a song based on a real-life puppet Dracula musical that Segel performed. Segel wrote most of the songs for the film's spiritual sequel Get Him to the Greek.
Segel's musical chops would be put to further good use as he wrote and starred in the fantastic new rendition of the Muppets: The Muppets. Segel managed to reinvigorate a franchise that hadn't seen a film put into theaters in over a decade, and not only was it a commercial success, but critically lauded as one of the best films of the year. Plus: it's the freaking Muppets, one of the most beloved and iconic cultural staples, and Segel wrote the film with a genuine love and appreciation for the characters and the franchise.
What can't Segel do? He acts. He writes. He composes and plays music. He's incredibly funny and charming, and I look forward to anything he plans to be part of in the future. He recently joined twitter, and his account is one of the best twitter accounts worth following. He wrote and is starring alongside Emily Blunt in The Five Year Engagement. If his track record has proven anything, it'll be worth watching.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Sherlock Holmes and the Defense of the Lark
I recently had to defend my views of the latest Sherlock Holmes movie, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, featuring the winning duo of Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law. Firstly, it's not that I didn't enjoy the movie; it had its fair share of really good and entertaining moments, but while parts of it worked, more parts of it than not didn't. On top of which, there is the need to point out the difference between a movie that is good, and a movie that you enjoy. I've taken guilty pleasure in Out Cold; I've laughed excessively at it, but I would never claim that Out Cold is a good movie. On the contrary, it's fairly awful. The acting is nothing special, the editing is awful, the writing is pedantic, and it's not clever or original what-so-ever. But did I enjoy it? I sure did, and I'll be the first to admit it. There's a whole slew of writing defending shlock and bad movies, so much so that I don't feel the need to get into it, but suffice to say that you can watch bad or campy movies with no trace of irony and still maintain your sense of pride, intellectualism, and decency. And it goes in the reverse way too, I can watch a movie and believe it was truly great, but deny having ever enjoyed it. I disliked Gone with the Wind beyond Clark Gable's Rhett Buttler, but I can still recognize the ingenuity and prowess of it. I completely didn't like Annie Hall the first time I watched it; I now love the movie, but it took some time to grow on me; the same goes for Sunset Boulevard.
There's a reason The Godfather doesn't have a perfect 10 on IMDB, even though I and many other people definitely feel it should; it is because people have differing opinions. I just have to grin and bear it when people say they like White Chicks. But you know what, people are entitled to their opinions. You might disagree, but you have to be open to others' views. If not, then rational and reasonable dialogue can't exist, and certainly not about movies, which would be unfortunate because I truly relish it. It is only when we accept and understand others' views and tastes in movies that we can appreciate our own views and tastes in film and further a dialogue that in turn furthers our love and appreciation of film.
That being said, here are my views, in brief on the new Sherlock Holmes. Rotten Tomatoes summed it up best, as they so often do, in their critic's consensus: "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is a good yarn thanks to its well-matched leading men but overall stumbles duplicating the well-oiled thrills of the original". The film just doesn't live up to its predecessor, which in fact felt like it was lacking some je ne sais quoi to begin with, and this sequel is lacking that same sort of quality to it, even more so. Guy Ritchie was never really the best director to helm a Sherlock Holmes movie with his track record: Snatch, Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, and RocknRolla. This is a director who was meant to make big action movies with large casts. The film seems to not even attempt to be intelligent, in stead choosing thoughtless action sequences. There seems to be very little actual detective work or sleuthing, and that's a shame because Holmes is (you know) a detective. As one critic put it: "Early in the film we see a map Holmes has constructed connecting Moriarty with various crimes and schemes... but no indication is given of how he connected the dots. More time is given to showcasing Holmes's clairvoyant battle skills (twice as many times as in the original) and blowing things up in slow motion." Granted, Sherlock Holmes obviously needs some action to it, but there's far too much of it for its own good, and not all the action sequences work. Blowing up the lighthouse tower is admittedly cool but seems out of place for a Sherlock Holmes story. And it would be fine as an action packed thriller if its pacing wasn't so indecisive. At times the film is incredibly slow and the film staggers to a dragging halt. The film starts far too much in the thick of things and it causes parts of the film, especially early parts of the film, to be overly confusing and rushed. Meanwhile, later sequences just feel unwieldy lengthy, and make you wish they just got on to the next scene already. The time spent in the gypsies camp and trekking across Europe could have been done in a much reasonably shorter length.
On top of which, the whole continent crossing scheme seems to be far too stretched out, making Moriarty's plot itself feel less threatening, slowing down the pace of the movie, and reducing the time in which Holmes can be stupendously clever as only he can (which honestly is stale and repetitive at certain points). The film should have stuck to England, and specifically London. The confined nature of the first film was what ensured the pacing didn't fall in on itself.
Plus, Moriarty's lack of enigmaticness takes away from his ability to work entirely well as the villain of the movie. Moriarty is played rather poorly by Jared Harris who hardly breathes life or menace into the role. Meanwhile, Stephen Fry makes a cameo as Holmes' brother Mycroft, but the role is fleeting, unnecessary, and poorly written. You know something has gone slightly wrong when you've made poor use of Stephen Fry. Rachel McAdam's wonderfully portrayed Irene Adler is killed off without even a moments hesitation. In stead, she is replaced by Noomi Rapace's Sim, a character that feels arbitrary, who's poorly written and forgetfully portrayed. She barely gets any screen time and when she does appear, one wonders what the need is for her character even being there. And Adler's death seems truly unjustified and out of place: lets kill off the love interest of Sherlock, the only person intelligent and devious enough to upstage Holmes, outside of Moriarty. And then lets just act as if it hardly even happened.
And that's what happens far too frequently in the film. One sequence is dropped and forgotten as if it hardly ever happened or was truly important to the grand scheme of things. The scope of the master plan is so far stretched out that its hardly necessary to point out the minute details that add up together to culminate in the master stroke, because the little details have variously been forgotten (which is a shame because Sherlock Holmes has an uncanny ability to notice the tiny details and tie them together). It hardly seems appropriate towards the end of the film to even have Holmes explain to Moriarty in an unnecessary and esoteric conversation the master plan, because very little is really actually explained; it really hasn't tied up the story nicely.
Perhaps in pieces the film works, but at a whole its lacking something to make it stand out above its predecessor. It's far too broad stroke in its design, too poorly paced in places, and redundant and entirely unwarranted or unnecessary still yet in others. The film feels in far too many ways a rehash of the first, and therefore is hardly inspired. In the end, the only really satisfying part of the film is the dynamic pairing of Law and Downey Jr. and while they play their parts to a tee, it's not enough to save the movie from feeling lazy. It is a shameful misuse and waste of talent. The film is ultimately in too many ways similar too its predecessor, and takes the features of the first that were honestly dragging it down and uses them to poor affect.
I get it : two hours of action, Holmes and Watson banter, and pseudo-insightful observations are fun for what they are worth in the two hours you're watching them, but once you have left the theater, it's hardly the movie that should stick with you. And I'm not being snobbish, I'm being realistic. Sorry if I'm shooting down your beliefs, but people do it to me all the time, and yea it can perturb me, but I usually get over it. And I'll take into account what they said and reconsider what I believe. Ultimately, don't get too hung up on this Sherlock Holmes sequel; there are plenty more films out there that deserve far more attention and scrutiny, and with awards season winding its way ever closer to the Oscars, we're going to need our eyes and minds in the appropriate places.
It should lastly be noted that my views have also heavily been influenced by the new BBC series Sherlock, which updates the Sherlock Holmes stories for the 21st century. It's headed by the incredible writer Steven Moffat, and stars the fantastic pairing of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, two of the finest British actors working right now. Sherlock is leaps and bounds ahead of the films series. It's more thrilling, better acted, better written, cleverer, more thoughtful, more faithful to the source material, and all around more enjoyable. Once you have watched Sherlock, it is hard to watch any recent adaptation of Sherlock Holmes and think it is particularly noteworthy. I look forward to its second season. On the other hand, I think this film series could use a rest. It's starting to deviate into the black hole that many good films plunge into, an endless spout of sequels, with each having less quality than its predecessor. Just look at Transformers, and Pirates of the Caribbean. Even better unnecessary sequels like those of the Back to the Future trilogy were pushing it. Sherlock Holmes is part of the Western cultural heritage, and we love the concept so much that sometimes we simply choose to overlook when a bad rendition has occurred because its easier that way. And I'm not saying Game of Shadows is bad, but its certainly lacking; however, that doesn't stop me from enjoying it for what it is.
There's a reason The Godfather doesn't have a perfect 10 on IMDB, even though I and many other people definitely feel it should; it is because people have differing opinions. I just have to grin and bear it when people say they like White Chicks. But you know what, people are entitled to their opinions. You might disagree, but you have to be open to others' views. If not, then rational and reasonable dialogue can't exist, and certainly not about movies, which would be unfortunate because I truly relish it. It is only when we accept and understand others' views and tastes in movies that we can appreciate our own views and tastes in film and further a dialogue that in turn furthers our love and appreciation of film.
That being said, here are my views, in brief on the new Sherlock Holmes. Rotten Tomatoes summed it up best, as they so often do, in their critic's consensus: "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is a good yarn thanks to its well-matched leading men but overall stumbles duplicating the well-oiled thrills of the original". The film just doesn't live up to its predecessor, which in fact felt like it was lacking some je ne sais quoi to begin with, and this sequel is lacking that same sort of quality to it, even more so. Guy Ritchie was never really the best director to helm a Sherlock Holmes movie with his track record: Snatch, Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, and RocknRolla. This is a director who was meant to make big action movies with large casts. The film seems to not even attempt to be intelligent, in stead choosing thoughtless action sequences. There seems to be very little actual detective work or sleuthing, and that's a shame because Holmes is (you know) a detective. As one critic put it: "Early in the film we see a map Holmes has constructed connecting Moriarty with various crimes and schemes... but no indication is given of how he connected the dots. More time is given to showcasing Holmes's clairvoyant battle skills (twice as many times as in the original) and blowing things up in slow motion." Granted, Sherlock Holmes obviously needs some action to it, but there's far too much of it for its own good, and not all the action sequences work. Blowing up the lighthouse tower is admittedly cool but seems out of place for a Sherlock Holmes story. And it would be fine as an action packed thriller if its pacing wasn't so indecisive. At times the film is incredibly slow and the film staggers to a dragging halt. The film starts far too much in the thick of things and it causes parts of the film, especially early parts of the film, to be overly confusing and rushed. Meanwhile, later sequences just feel unwieldy lengthy, and make you wish they just got on to the next scene already. The time spent in the gypsies camp and trekking across Europe could have been done in a much reasonably shorter length.
On top of which, the whole continent crossing scheme seems to be far too stretched out, making Moriarty's plot itself feel less threatening, slowing down the pace of the movie, and reducing the time in which Holmes can be stupendously clever as only he can (which honestly is stale and repetitive at certain points). The film should have stuck to England, and specifically London. The confined nature of the first film was what ensured the pacing didn't fall in on itself.
Plus, Moriarty's lack of enigmaticness takes away from his ability to work entirely well as the villain of the movie. Moriarty is played rather poorly by Jared Harris who hardly breathes life or menace into the role. Meanwhile, Stephen Fry makes a cameo as Holmes' brother Mycroft, but the role is fleeting, unnecessary, and poorly written. You know something has gone slightly wrong when you've made poor use of Stephen Fry. Rachel McAdam's wonderfully portrayed Irene Adler is killed off without even a moments hesitation. In stead, she is replaced by Noomi Rapace's Sim, a character that feels arbitrary, who's poorly written and forgetfully portrayed. She barely gets any screen time and when she does appear, one wonders what the need is for her character even being there. And Adler's death seems truly unjustified and out of place: lets kill off the love interest of Sherlock, the only person intelligent and devious enough to upstage Holmes, outside of Moriarty. And then lets just act as if it hardly even happened.
And that's what happens far too frequently in the film. One sequence is dropped and forgotten as if it hardly ever happened or was truly important to the grand scheme of things. The scope of the master plan is so far stretched out that its hardly necessary to point out the minute details that add up together to culminate in the master stroke, because the little details have variously been forgotten (which is a shame because Sherlock Holmes has an uncanny ability to notice the tiny details and tie them together). It hardly seems appropriate towards the end of the film to even have Holmes explain to Moriarty in an unnecessary and esoteric conversation the master plan, because very little is really actually explained; it really hasn't tied up the story nicely.
Perhaps in pieces the film works, but at a whole its lacking something to make it stand out above its predecessor. It's far too broad stroke in its design, too poorly paced in places, and redundant and entirely unwarranted or unnecessary still yet in others. The film feels in far too many ways a rehash of the first, and therefore is hardly inspired. In the end, the only really satisfying part of the film is the dynamic pairing of Law and Downey Jr. and while they play their parts to a tee, it's not enough to save the movie from feeling lazy. It is a shameful misuse and waste of talent. The film is ultimately in too many ways similar too its predecessor, and takes the features of the first that were honestly dragging it down and uses them to poor affect.
I get it : two hours of action, Holmes and Watson banter, and pseudo-insightful observations are fun for what they are worth in the two hours you're watching them, but once you have left the theater, it's hardly the movie that should stick with you. And I'm not being snobbish, I'm being realistic. Sorry if I'm shooting down your beliefs, but people do it to me all the time, and yea it can perturb me, but I usually get over it. And I'll take into account what they said and reconsider what I believe. Ultimately, don't get too hung up on this Sherlock Holmes sequel; there are plenty more films out there that deserve far more attention and scrutiny, and with awards season winding its way ever closer to the Oscars, we're going to need our eyes and minds in the appropriate places.
It should lastly be noted that my views have also heavily been influenced by the new BBC series Sherlock, which updates the Sherlock Holmes stories for the 21st century. It's headed by the incredible writer Steven Moffat, and stars the fantastic pairing of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, two of the finest British actors working right now. Sherlock is leaps and bounds ahead of the films series. It's more thrilling, better acted, better written, cleverer, more thoughtful, more faithful to the source material, and all around more enjoyable. Once you have watched Sherlock, it is hard to watch any recent adaptation of Sherlock Holmes and think it is particularly noteworthy. I look forward to its second season. On the other hand, I think this film series could use a rest. It's starting to deviate into the black hole that many good films plunge into, an endless spout of sequels, with each having less quality than its predecessor. Just look at Transformers, and Pirates of the Caribbean. Even better unnecessary sequels like those of the Back to the Future trilogy were pushing it. Sherlock Holmes is part of the Western cultural heritage, and we love the concept so much that sometimes we simply choose to overlook when a bad rendition has occurred because its easier that way. And I'm not saying Game of Shadows is bad, but its certainly lacking; however, that doesn't stop me from enjoying it for what it is.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Feminism, Bridesmaids, and You
I recently re-watched the film Bridesmaid the other night, and it made me start thinking about the extensive discussion that arose about it. There was this whole peculiar conversation revolving around the film. A lot of it is in response to this article about how women aren't funny. Which is fucking absurd and preposterous. And the author was immediately berated by a number of critics and writers, as he very well should have been. It shouldn't come to anyone as a surprise that gasp women can be funny. Some of the funniest actors and comedians out there are women. Some of the most genuinely funny people you will meet will be women.
But lets get past this tid-bit of the conversation surrounding the film. Because there's far more to it than that. A number of critics compared Bridesmaids to the Hangover, which was a completely stupid and poor comparison. They said it was the feminist version of the Hangover. But the fact is that Bridesmaid succeeds on far more levels than the Hangover could ever possibly achieve. And Bridesmaids is so good, that if it ever got a sequel, unlike The Hangover, it would actually probably be pretty good. But beyond that, I disagree with people leaping to make it out to be a feminist work. Because feminism is just realism. It's just a realistic depiction of both genders. To say that Bridesmaids is suddenly going to allow for feminist comedies to now be produced is to ignore the fact that feminist comedies have long since been produced. Sure, films have become more feminist over time. But that doesn't mean they haven't been feminist. And to make out the only important aspect of Bridesmaid to be that it is feminist is to also ignore that it is hilarious, extremely well-written, and has great character analysis. As Slate's Dana Stevens noted, "Don't see Bridesmaids because it's your social responsibility (though helping this movie win the weekend's box office wouldn't hurt if you want to see more women behaving badly in the theater). See it because it's fucking hilarious."
Which isn't to offend anyone, but to claim that it is someone's duty to see a film is idiotic, naive, and doesn't help anyone. It's not someone's duty or responsibility to do anything. Yes, people should see Bridesmaids, but not because its feminist but because it's a great movie. That it is feminist is simply an added bonus, so to speak. And to further clarify: a good movie and a feminist movie, should hopefully be one in the same. If it were a bad movie that were trying to be feminist, odds are that it would probably be terrible. Case in point: NBC's the Playboy Club. If Bridesmaids ends up leading to more movies like it, which I hope it does, it will be because it's good. And part of why it is good is because its feminist. But to simply focus on the fact that it is feminist, and pigeonhole the rest of the film's noteworthy qualities and the historical and social circumstances around it, is to simplify the situation and narrow what the film is and what it can and does stand for.
But lets get past this tid-bit of the conversation surrounding the film. Because there's far more to it than that. A number of critics compared Bridesmaids to the Hangover, which was a completely stupid and poor comparison. They said it was the feminist version of the Hangover. But the fact is that Bridesmaid succeeds on far more levels than the Hangover could ever possibly achieve. And Bridesmaids is so good, that if it ever got a sequel, unlike The Hangover, it would actually probably be pretty good. But beyond that, I disagree with people leaping to make it out to be a feminist work. Because feminism is just realism. It's just a realistic depiction of both genders. To say that Bridesmaids is suddenly going to allow for feminist comedies to now be produced is to ignore the fact that feminist comedies have long since been produced. Sure, films have become more feminist over time. But that doesn't mean they haven't been feminist. And to make out the only important aspect of Bridesmaid to be that it is feminist is to also ignore that it is hilarious, extremely well-written, and has great character analysis. As Slate's Dana Stevens noted, "Don't see Bridesmaids because it's your social responsibility (though helping this movie win the weekend's box office wouldn't hurt if you want to see more women behaving badly in the theater). See it because it's fucking hilarious."
Which isn't to offend anyone, but to claim that it is someone's duty to see a film is idiotic, naive, and doesn't help anyone. It's not someone's duty or responsibility to do anything. Yes, people should see Bridesmaids, but not because its feminist but because it's a great movie. That it is feminist is simply an added bonus, so to speak. And to further clarify: a good movie and a feminist movie, should hopefully be one in the same. If it were a bad movie that were trying to be feminist, odds are that it would probably be terrible. Case in point: NBC's the Playboy Club. If Bridesmaids ends up leading to more movies like it, which I hope it does, it will be because it's good. And part of why it is good is because its feminist. But to simply focus on the fact that it is feminist, and pigeonhole the rest of the film's noteworthy qualities and the historical and social circumstances around it, is to simplify the situation and narrow what the film is and what it can and does stand for.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Save Greendale!
In economic climate that's volatile and unpredictable, television studios are trying to be as cautious as possible when deciding what to put and keep on the air. They hedge their bets and attempt to stick to programming that has proven successful in the past. However, NBC has not been in its prime as far as ratings go in the past couple of years, and that has allowed for a number of critically acclaimed and nicely unformulaic programming, including The Office, 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation, and Community. Community was recently put on mid-season hiatus, causing many to speculate that the program may well very soon be canceled. Although this is not definitive, chances don't look good for its survival. The fan base has nobly risen to defend their quirky and unique show about a diverse study group at a lackluster community college. And I, as a member of this strong and loyal, albeit small, fan base, feel the need to defend one of the smartest, funniest, well-written, and just genuinely good shows on television right now.
Lets start out with the obvious draw for (as far as in pleading with NBC goes), Community is a critical darling. A number of critics have named it the best series of 2011. And that's not just for comedies, that's television series in general. Community, for critics, ranks up there with top dramas like Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Justified, and Homeland. The fact is that NBC isn't going to pull out of its rating nose dive any time soon, and their only truly saving grace is their Thursday night comedy block. Considering their position in network ratings, it's better to take critical success over failed and flailing attempts to establish a dramatic series that garners a large audience.
And Community is truly quality television. It's an incredibly clever show. And it's self-referential nature might seem off putting or smug, but once you've gotten into watching it, it's really just part of the shows charm. The show's inventiveness comes through in its ability to bend genres and take on new forms, as well as its uncanny adeptness at recalling previous episodes and events in the series mythology. The actors have an undeniable chemistry, and Dan Harmon has tried endless numbers of character combinations to stir up new jokes, and greater develop the characters. I'm in the midst of re-watching the entire series right now, and it's incredibly impressive how much they change over the course of a few episodes. The series has become more engaging, fun, and self-assured as the actors become more certain with who the characters are. On top of which, the series does a fair amount of world building. Greendale and the wider world that the characters inhabit continues to grow as the series evolves. And this world is inhabited with an array of amusing and interesting side characters who the series deftly recalls for good effect. And side characters such as Dean Pelton and Senor Chang who proved themselves to be some of the best features of the series slowly gained top billing status. But what Community is probably most wonderful for is how it deconstructs pop cultural tropes and genres, playing on old television series formats and cliches in order to further develop the characters and reinforce why the group is friends in the first place. And on top of this: it's extremely funny. The show mixes clever lines with outright absurd and crazy ones, and balances them fantastically well.
So yes, Black Hitler, and Paintball wars, and gifs of Alison Brie are all what makes Community strange, but they're also what makes it awesome. And this is why I feel Community really does deserve, as the motto that has arisen states, six seasons and a movie.
Lets start out with the obvious draw for (as far as in pleading with NBC goes), Community is a critical darling. A number of critics have named it the best series of 2011. And that's not just for comedies, that's television series in general. Community, for critics, ranks up there with top dramas like Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Justified, and Homeland. The fact is that NBC isn't going to pull out of its rating nose dive any time soon, and their only truly saving grace is their Thursday night comedy block. Considering their position in network ratings, it's better to take critical success over failed and flailing attempts to establish a dramatic series that garners a large audience.
The fact is that NBC has never really helped Community become even remotely successful. The series is forced to survive cold, with no other series coming on before it to back it up. It used to be after The Office, but NBC wasn't smart enough to keep it there. And sure, the series is a bit of an oddball, and therefore is difficult to market, but NBC has hardly tried to figure out what the series is and what the potential is with it. Honestly, NBC is a little too indifferent for their own good. Community has a solid fan base; it may not be huge, but it's truly loyal. Loyal fan bases are something to take note of. You give them enough time and they can make a success out of nearly anything. Jericho, Arrested Development, and Chuck, among many others, were all series cut before their time, but with solid fan bases driving them. Chuck's fanbase's concerted efforts to keep the show alive have allowed it to go on for five seasons. Jericho's fanbase sent in over 20 tons of nuts to CBS studios, in reference to a line from the series, and it managed to stave off cancellation briefly for a second season. Now Arrested Development is widely regarded as one of the best comedies ever on television with plans to make a fourth season and a movie. This is due to resurgence in popularity through reruns on television and DVDs. That sounds a lot like Family Guy who gained a second life through massive DVD sales. Family Guy continues to be one of the top shows on television, and Seth MacFarlane has three shows on Fox's Sunday night block. The truth is that the studios have no clue what they're doing. They don't really know what's popular. They underestimate internet culture, and DVR views. And they would rather make money than produce quality television shows.
And Community is truly quality television. It's an incredibly clever show. And it's self-referential nature might seem off putting or smug, but once you've gotten into watching it, it's really just part of the shows charm. The show's inventiveness comes through in its ability to bend genres and take on new forms, as well as its uncanny adeptness at recalling previous episodes and events in the series mythology. The actors have an undeniable chemistry, and Dan Harmon has tried endless numbers of character combinations to stir up new jokes, and greater develop the characters. I'm in the midst of re-watching the entire series right now, and it's incredibly impressive how much they change over the course of a few episodes. The series has become more engaging, fun, and self-assured as the actors become more certain with who the characters are. On top of which, the series does a fair amount of world building. Greendale and the wider world that the characters inhabit continues to grow as the series evolves. And this world is inhabited with an array of amusing and interesting side characters who the series deftly recalls for good effect. And side characters such as Dean Pelton and Senor Chang who proved themselves to be some of the best features of the series slowly gained top billing status. But what Community is probably most wonderful for is how it deconstructs pop cultural tropes and genres, playing on old television series formats and cliches in order to further develop the characters and reinforce why the group is friends in the first place. And on top of this: it's extremely funny. The show mixes clever lines with outright absurd and crazy ones, and balances them fantastically well.
So yes, Black Hitler, and Paintball wars, and gifs of Alison Brie are all what makes Community strange, but they're also what makes it awesome. And this is why I feel Community really does deserve, as the motto that has arisen states, six seasons and a movie.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
He's Only Mostly Dead
As Mark Twain famously said, "The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated".
I'm still here, and I do intend to keep writing posts for this blog. I have about half a dozen already in progress. But I'm currently in crunch time as finals approach, and therefore my time and resources are exacerbated. I want to ensure my posts are as high of quality as I can possibly make them. In order to do that, I won't be posting for a little while. But I do intend to return to writing posts in the not too distant future.
All the best until then.
I'm still here, and I do intend to keep writing posts for this blog. I have about half a dozen already in progress. But I'm currently in crunch time as finals approach, and therefore my time and resources are exacerbated. I want to ensure my posts are as high of quality as I can possibly make them. In order to do that, I won't be posting for a little while. But I do intend to return to writing posts in the not too distant future.
All the best until then.
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