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"Avatar" review

January 15th 2010 08:13
Lusty and blue.
Pandora's fox.


Avatar is amazing to look at but not much to listen to. The visuals have a vibrant yet languid, almost narcotizing lushness, but it’s hard to believe sometimes that this is the same James Cameron who wrote such pitch-perfect space-marine dialogue for Aliens almost a quarter-century ago. Maybe it’s because this time out the Marines are the bad guys and he doesn’t want to make them too endearing.*

So yeah, Avatar is indisputably worth seeing on the big screen (exclusively, I suspect), if sheerly as a case study in photorealism: for the first time ever, computer-generated characters appear to have authentically textured surfaces, possess convincingly scaled mass, and interact convincingly with real actors and objects (which this time out Cameron seems to view interchangeably in more ways than one). I love the geography of this dangerous, arboreal planet Pandora from its floating platformer-style mountaintops to its telepathic root systems and dark thickets of fanged horrors. If at times the place comes off more whimsical and like a Disneyland attraction than an actual alien world, it at least feels ecologically complex when stacked against George Lucas’ monochromatic desert-, ice-, and jungle-worlds. In fact, Avatar’s best stretches consist simply of characters just exploring the planet’s mysteries and being awed by them. There’s a predictable but vivid sequence where a dragon (a loyal beast who’s later dumped for a bigger, redder one without explanation) is tamed that made me feel more airsick than Heath Ledger’s final dangling in Dark Knight, and towards the end lots of stuff blows up, gets stabbed, and wails Lion King-y type music over the closing credits. Yeah, in this hard-sf mythos, there’s dragons. And elves. And sacred trees. And explosives bound up in giant cubes that are dropped manually out of gunship-hangars like para-drops from 1940. Avatar’s villain, the leader of the Marines, is even less morally nuanced than Paul Reiser’s accountant in Aliens, which makes the stalwart hero Sully having to choose between his superior’s ugly jingoism and a saintly piece of native blue ass slightly less than suspenseful. (Actually, there’s a Paul Reiser guy counterpart as well, played by Giovanni Ribisi, but his character sort of disappears without a payoff, along with Sigourney Weaver’s loyal assistant, a scientist named Norm. Loyalty’s not rewarded very often in Avatar. It's kinda like The Tonight Show.)

Like Wall-E and Day The Earth Stood Still, there’s a belabored, “green” message at Avatar’s shiny core, brought to you by the friendly climatologists of corporate America.
In this mythos, we learn that our clueless descendants are on Pandora to mine a nebulously useful mineral called “unobtainium,” as Ribisi’s corporate flunky character explains to scientist Grace (Sigourney Weaver), although she’s been planetside with him for a while and conceivably understands this mineral’s applications better than he does. This is exposition that could more gracefully and naturally have been dispensed to Sam Worthington’s newly arrived character Sully, but I guess they needed to leave Ribisi at least one scene.

Since I skipped out on Terminator: Salvation, this was also my first exposure to Sam Worthington, and while he doesn’t do bad work, I confess that I’m still not sure what the big deal is about this guy or why he’s the star of three CGI blockbuster movies for two different studios in under 9 months. It seems peculiar to me in this instance to hire a hunky young Australian actor whose hunkiness is promptly shelved so he can romp around as a CG Smurf. And from what we’re shown, his character Sully is a dull, predictable cipher selected arbitrarily by the planet’s dandelions (which he initially swats irritably at) to be the Chosen One. (New rule for post-Matrix/Phantom Menace Hollywood blockbusters: no more use of the term “chosen one.” Thanks and all, but we get it: his name was first in the credits.)

For a Chosen One, Sully sure is a crappy Marine: the second he’s first plugged into his blue Na’vi avatar, he immediately disobeys orders and runs around the lightly guarded, unsealed military compound. His first mission, guarding two scientists taking fungus readings, begins with his abandoning them, wandering into a field of purple buttercups, and promptly attracting the attention of multiple predators that all his weapons are useless against. (As per his rigorous training, he takes them on by running away, nearly dying of starvation and from wild animals, and falling for the first member of the enemy tribe he encounters.)

The “avatars” of the title are refer to the 10-foot tall blue-skinned clones of the native Na’vi, somehow or other composed of their DNA mixed with ours that we can jack into like WoW login screens and operate like mech-suits, even though this same generation also has and uses comparatively low-tech mech-suits. (I was curious how they grew the brains inside the avatars, or whether those came included.) The purpose of the avatars is to conduct recon on Pandora’s indigenous alien race the Na’vi, infiltrate their primitive society, and then somehow gain their support for their own impending genocide. Despite the fact that there are many different tribes of Na’vi across Pandora (all of them effortlessly united in a perfunctory montage by Sully after his people destroy their lifeblood), only the main scientist, Sigourney, and her assistant, that Norm guy, seem to be the ones actually doing this till Worthington shows up. It seems like a bad use of precious resources, especially since at council meetings, Sigourney’s avatar seems to wield consistently little influence.

Sully makes poor spy material too. Upon seeing him, the first impulse of Neytiri (portrayed with accomplished, lithe mo-cap and heartfelt voice-work by Zoe Saldana), the beautiful Na’vi who will become his lover, is to shoot an arrow through him. Wait, why is she considering killing him if she doesn’t know he’s human? Or does she? I’m still unclear on what the Na’vi stance is towards avatars when the story begins: the Na’vi shoot arrows through the tires of patrolling ATVs and seem wisely suspicious of humans, but Sully is instantly accepted into the clan on Neytiri’s say-so alone and rapidly administered numerous rites of passage. Where do they think he’s from? His cover story (“Uh, I’m Sully from the Jarhead tribe”) certainly seems pretty flimsy. Or do they take him for a semi-retarded outlander? Oddly, although the avatars are man-made forgeries, the planet has a sacred tree able to permanently transfer a human’s mind and memories into his or her avatar, although only if you’re the main character (and, also a bit curiously, only the Na’vi are privy to this important fact, even though they’re not exactly set up as avatar experts).

Though the Na’vi don’t have penises or nipples, Sully learns they’re a lot like us, or more precisely that their women are far more sexually attractive, which probably makes his decisions a lot easier. In a loving nod to Aliens’ Jenette Goldstein, the also attractive Michelle Rodriguez plays a gunship pilot who has a similar if more chaste, abrupt epiphany in the middle of battle, for which she suffers ZERO consequences from her superiors afterwards – a lapse she promptly capitalizes on to help our heroes escape so she can die nobly immediately following her final money line (spoiler alert).

Even at three hours and without any twists, Avatar’s story feels unnecessarily rushed. Sully winds up being incriminated based on a video diary entry that we never even saw him dictate and therefore can’t judge the context of. You rarely get the sense these characters are really driving the story, they’re just archetypal mouthpieces à la Crash. ( I don’t want to give anything away but more stuff crashes in the last 30 minutes of this movie than in all of Crash.)

I left Avatar visually stupefied as promised (although not nearly as much as I did after Terry Gilliam’s Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus), along with a lingering headache from three hours of wearing 3D glasses and tons of pesky questions. Like, won’t the defeated Marines exiled to Earth just come back with bigger gunships and nuke these rebels from orbit just to be sure? Or gas the place? What are the stakes in this war exactly? At one point Ribisi’s character refers to, um, obtaining unobtainium simply to appease stockholders but at the end, Sully refers to Earth as a “dying world”. A dying world with stockholders, let alone avatar technology and interplanetary travel that it then uses to ferry scientists light-years away so that their input can be totally ignored, doesn’t sound too terminal. Right?

Maybe it’s nitpicking to expect story depth comparable to its visual depth in a project that’s been gestating a tenth as long as Avatar. Generally speaking, though, story and characterization are cheaper and faster to improve than CGI. Just sayin’.

*A bit weirdly considering that here in L.A. recruitment ads for both the Marines and National Guard preceded my screening. Is there such a thing as pre-buzzkill?

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Could be worse.
"Papa, what's there to do at the beach again?"




I have a new excuse for not updating this beloved (by me, anyway) blog in a pushmi-pullyu’s age in addition to my general trademark terribleness: I’ve somehow been rousted into doing a weekly podcast for www.quartertothree.com with two other chimps: esteemed and prolific games reviewer Tom Chick (non-gamer nerds may know him best as gay Oscar’s ex-lover on the American version of The Office, who made Pam cry at her art show) and Xtien Murawski (whose main claim to fame thus far is not making Pam cry, haha pwnt). In a nutshell, the podcast, along with kidneystones, exploding teeth, and general malaise, has been siphoning my cinematically critical energies, since – although I once felt quite the reverse of this -- it’s actually less work to jaw about movies for an hour a week than it is to write 1000 words about them once a month, even if you’re an actual obscure writer. In fact, I highly recommend everyone get a podcast, especially if it’s monetized (although ours isn’t, or Tom’s holding out on us). Failing that, and especially if you want to hear how inarticulate I am in the online flesh, go to the movie forum at www.quartertothree.com or type that nonsensical key-phrase into your I-Tunes doo-dad and look for a picture of three kids watching a projected elephant. I'd say you won't be sorry, but such promises are probably actionable.

Anyway, a bazillion apologies for my protracted neglect here, print fetishists, but know that text will always be first in my heart, especially since I hate the sound of my own voice.

Meantime, here’s some stuff I wrote about stuff I saw that other people wrote that may well be regurgitated at wildly greater length on said podcasts, just to tide you over till you listen to one of them. Or, albeit unlikely, more!

Paranormal Activity – Since I already used the line “taps into our universal fears of San Diego” on the podcast, let me just append that this excellent, terror-through-inactivity sleep-repellent also taps into our universal dread that the one demonologist your crappy (American) health-care system covers will be out of town the one month out of your whole life that you need him. In both this and Drag Me To Hell, the female protagonists in relationships with dumbass relentlessly skeptical boyfriends are consistently pure and sweet as apple-pie snow-cones. One gets the sense from these films that demons look at Goth chicks and go, “Meh, too easy.” I know I do!

Where the Wild Things Are – My ride home from this boring debacle (a 9-year-old wearing a wolf-suit, ironically) made us walk out midway through, but I hear the kid lives (after being puked up by the girl-wild-thing). Been on that date.

A Serious Man – The Coens’ greatest movie since Burn After Reading (and third wait-that’s-really-the-end? gotcha in a row)! If you emerge perplexed, it may cheer you to know that the packed audience of ancient Jewish couples I saw it with emerged looking collectively baffled and muttering stuff like, “What was with that fable at the beginning? He looks like a zombie but he isn’t? Oykoysh begoysh?!” Also apparently the name “Sy” actually means “Psi.” Which explains everything. Also, canals.

The Men Who Stare At Goats – If your third act consists of a mass LSD trip and killing off two-thirds of your main characters in an offscreen helicopter crash a la Henry Blake, you’re hewing closer to the “truth” than you really need to.

2012 – Best Roland Emmerich disaster movie since Stargate! John Cusack convincingly plays a nanny who wrote the world’s greatest novel even though it sold only 4 copies and that ends with the profound coda, “Everybody has a neighbor in Wisconsin.” Or something. (Spoiler alert: all the kids live – you’re so edgy, Roland!)

An Education – Since I wasn’t completely sure that lead actress Carey Mulligan was really only 16, during the movie I only masturbated twice. (Recycled from the podcast; see what you’re missing?)

The Road – It’s like The Road Warrior, only minus the warring, and the kid can’t fling a boomerang. Spoiler alert: at the end, the guy (played appropriately by Guy Pearce) who’s been (inexplicably) following the two main characters along the road the whole movie offers this sage advice, “You should stay off the road.” Hey Guy Pearce character, maybe you should make contact with your rescue-ees a little timelier. Huh.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox – The Das Boot version of Chicken Run*. All Roald Dahl adaptations officially need to be stop-motion from here on out.

Anyway, sorry for the slim pickens but I hereby promise to update this boxy purple space more often, at least until the end of the decade (self-hating cough). FWIW, now that I’m writing this, it feels like reuniting with an old friend. Plus now that I have two jerks harassling me to see a movie a week for that damn podcast, my movie-going frequency has octupled, so I guess that’s good (give or take the 3 hours I spent in 2012 watching giant computer-generated structures bloodlessly kill billions of non- or B-movie stars).

*A line I wish I’d come up with before the podcast. See what you’re not missing?

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Hollywood's hottest Emma ever
If I were a zombie, I'd bite her too. And by too I mean still.


God, I am one terrible blogger. Maybe it has something to do with blogging not really being considered a deadline (or is it more like having a 24/7 deadline?). I’m pretty good with deadlines but don’t exactly seek them out.

Anyway, enough about my terribleness, onward to Hollywood’s! Also, in the interest of offering better value for something that’s already free, herewith instead of the usual long single movie review is a comprehensive analectic take on every movie that I saw this summer and early October, including, at no extra charge, a bunch I didn’t*:

Inglourious Basterds – Best repeated baseball-bat to the face, best Nazi, best dialogue, best Italian accent by Brad Pitt, best redneck accent by Brad Pitt, best ending, best opening, and worst anachronistic music-video interlude involving lipstick (did de Palma ghost direct for a day?). I went into it with lowered expectations because a friend who’d caught an advance screening had complained about how it was “talkier even than Grindhouse.” Well, yeah, except that here instead of loquacious girls dicking around in bars for an hour, it’s people talking because they’re spies trying not to get shot by supernaturally perceptive Nazi officers at a single verbal slip-up. You can tell by the neglect of most of the Basterd backstories that like Mulholland Drive this was originally intended as a much vaster tapestry reduced to a pared-down Cliff’s Notes version, but this one efficiently saves you those 18 extra hours. Which you can then spend watching crappy movies based on toys or forty-word-long children’s books that feel way longer than this. Thanks, Quentin!

Terminator: Salvation – Didn’t catch this one because it was rated PG-13 (or rather, Mc-PG-13), and also because nothing in the trailers was dark-blue-tinged or showed skulls getting bulldozed as enticingly promised in the first three movies. Plus they cut Moon Bloodgood’s nude scene. Thanks, Warner Bros.!

Transformers 2: Rise of the Fallen – Didn’t see because I’m tired of movies about giant robots who want to kill everybody but never kill anybody. Plus I can get Megan Fox on a motorcycle at home. Or at least Robert Foxworthy in a bear-suit.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – Did this even come out? Most Boring Characters Per Longest Movie/Book Series Ever**. I think I’ve seen half of one of these, the one that ends in a cave, like all movies. The cave was referred to as a “chamber of secrets” although it contains no secrets, just some monster that the supposedly heroic, wise dumbasses who ineptly run Hogwarts somehow never noticed lives right under their school (and eats what? ineptitude vibrations through the walls?). I hear this is the one where Snape kills Dumbledore (spoiler alert).

Land of the Lost – Didn’t see this because they turned an eerie cheap-ass jungle I loved as a child into an expensive desert under a normal sky, and a stranded family into a milquetoast British girl, a redneck (Danny McBride, really stretching) and a physicist who are all grown-ups and genetically unrelated. Fuck that noise. Note to soulless movie execs: The Brady Bunch Movie parodied its source material by actually resembling the source material. At all. In fact, that was, like, the joke. The family with bad hair was still a family with the same names, ages and personalities as the original characters they were spoofing. This resemblance made people laugh. /pats soulless shoulder-pad: I know. Comedy’s complicated.

Up – Saw eagerly and loved because it’s about an old man who hates everyone, which I can identify with. And a bird. After WALL-E, the first kids’ movie, or any movie, to suggest that the conquest of space would be boring, ecologically unsound, and not even worth looking through the viewports at, I was grateful for some Pixar visuals that flaunted their exotic, lush, natural geographies and had characters with motivations more nuanced and comprehensible than those of an insane captain’s wheel.

Jennifer’s Body – Horribly directed and acted except for shapely Megan Fox, who reveals an unexpected (and underrated) flair for throwaway lines and crazed demonic leers. Both of which, by the way, are harder to pull off well than they look, maybe even more so if you were initially hired just to be gorgeous and bitchy and had to learn these skills on the fly. But it’s a bad, formless movie, persistently vague about crucial details: I still don’t get who started that fire at the club or why or whether it was deliberate, or why the artsy guy wouldn’t have told every, let alone any, of his classmates that he’d landed a date with the hottest girl in school that night. And why would Jennifer trance out during that endless wretched straight-faced indie-rock musical number early on? Those musicians weren’t demons themselves, just douchebags. Rather, wannabee douchebags. Their music is supposed to (and does) suck so bad, they need to make demonic pacts to succeed. As in the Resident Evil movies, the camera here always seems to be cutting away from the gore, the sex, anything good. But its worst omission? Back in my youth, R-rated horror films like this were at least choc-a-bloc with bare breasts. I pity teen audiences today, and myself…And Megan. It drags when she’s not around.

Zombieland -- Like one of those live-action Disney movies from the ‘70’s, only with zombies instead of Dean Jones. Spoiler alert: I was so baked I actually thought that was Michael Cera. One great sequence set in a celebrity home is worth the price of sneaking in but so is Woody Harrelson’s performance and Emma Stone’s face. My only gripe is that Stone’s excruciatingly hot character Wichita is set up as a bad-ass con artiste able to get the drop on Woody Harrelson’s unflappably competent Tallahassee twice, but then just like the Naomie Harris character in 28 Days Later and Rose Byrne’s in Weeks she goes soft and stupid toward the end, reverting to an immobile damsel of distress after flooding an amusement park with zombie-attracting lights and clamor without at least clearing and sealing off the area first. The trailers for this looked dull but I must admit I haven’t seen a movie kill a mid-day audience like this since Borat. Screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick make comedic mincemeat out of Diablo Cody, kinda like Emma Stone’s face does to Megan’s Body. Zombieland may even wind up rendering the upcoming World War Z movie dated. If the hacks who wrote Epic Movie and all those other “__ Movies” wrote Zombie Movie and were talented, it still wouldn’t be this good.

Capitalism: A Love Story – In which we learn that airline pilots make 19K a year yet for some reason don’t fly planes into skyscrapers. Daily. My modest proposal: bankers can now fly only commercially.

Couples Retreat – A movie for girls to drag their boyfriends to about guys being dragged to something they don’t want to do.

Black Knight – Admittedly this came out 8 years ago, but caught it on satellite the other night and it so holds up. Martin Lawrence meets L. Sprague de Camp! Magical.

The Avatar trailer – Pure awesome till the smurf speaks about three seconds in.

Well, that’s it for now, movie review aficionados. I hereby promise to see more remakes, reboots, sequels, and rip-offs next summer, and in the frostier meantime to provide more of the lovable snideness that’s the next best thing to actually seeing a movie and blogging about it yourself!

*It’s like I’m my generation’s Gary Franklin, only slightly less bulbous.

**Does Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s body of work count as a “series”?

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"The Final Destination" review

September 11th 2009 07:25
So much for loge.
Been on that date.


I know, I know…I really should be writing my Inglourious Basterds review, not least because A) I saw it first and 2) it’s actually worth writing about. But I’m afraid very afraid that all the many ways in which FD43D irritated me will fade from memory like toothache pain within the next few hours, leaving me unable to recall all the slipshod ways in which it sucked and thus unable to blog exhaustively about them. It seems, annoyingly, that my prolificity is directly proportional to my annoyance.
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"District 9" review

August 23rd 2009 09:52
Dey darker den us!
Shots like this put the 'art' back in 'Apartheid.'



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"Bruno" review

July 30th 2009 00:19
Finally someone relatable!
Being gay is neat.



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"Drag Me To Hell" review

June 29th 2009 09:46
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"Star Trek" review

May 30th 2009 06:19
Live long and pros-fur.
TJ Hooker cradles his beloved quatloo.


I confess that I’ve never been much of a Trekkie. You read enough Iain Banks or Olaf Stapledon or even Vernor Vinge, and by comparison Trek’s constant space-time anomalies (how come they never use the same one twice?), excruciating puns, and simplistic, spelled-out morality seem even more vanilla than it all struck me at 12. (Go read Lord of Light or Star Maker and then explain to me how every Star Trek episode combined is in any way, shape, or form better value.) I remember irritably wondering why, if the Vulcans were the smart ones, weren’t we joining their Federation? And how could we cross-breed with them if they had green blood and, uh, no emotions like, say, erotic ardor? Shouldn’t they have more complex emotions?
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"Crank: High Voltage" review

April 23rd 2009 09:06
Chev Chelios Chev Chelios chim chim cheree
It's not his brain they're after.



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"Watchmen" review

March 31st 2009 07:14
Spectre, I don't even know her
The most faithful Alan Moore adaptation since "Return of Swamp Thing"!



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