Wonder Woman (2017): Mike's Review

A couple (or maybe a few) years ago, I wrote an article for Kate about the Flaws of Wonder Woman as a character. And in many regards I still stand by the points I made. However, I feel that I was struggling to simply state the main problem: that Wonder Woman, as she existed, did not work, and would not work without a major overhaul of some sort. And my concern about that happening came down to two things:

1. After a major overhaul, would she still be Wonder Woman?  
2. Would the fans accept these changes?

And the answer to both, it seems, is a qualified yes. Wonder Woman has recently been changed quite a bit, and people largely seem to be enjoying it.

DC comics continuity has become famous for being something of a patchwork quilt draped over a moving target. The writers and the publishers are continually taking things apart, stitching them back together, and rearranging things in order to appease and attract both new audiences and longtime fans. As a result, DC continuity has seen at least five “reboots” in the last thirty years (Crisis on Multiple Earths, Zero Hour, Infinite Crisis, Flashpoint/New 52, and Rebirth). And in the years since my original post, Wonder Woman has been “overhauled” or “retconned” (a comic term here meaning retro-active continuity) at least three times…. Or two. Again, it’s how you measure it.

The Strazinski reboot that I mention in the previous article attempted to address many of my original points… and was met with hatred and scorn. Then Flashpoint/New 52 happened, and Wonder Woman found herself almost back to normal; but with a few twists, which were met with critical acclaim. Most of these changes were seen in the new movie, which despite my, uh, tangent, is what I’m supposed to be talking about. The film has succeeded in taking both new and old elements of Wonder Woman and fusing them in a way that works. And the current comic version of Diana is not far off from the one we see in the film.

Batman v. Superman

For a movie review, I understand I’m putting forth a lot of background information, but I want readers to understand that I went into this movie with two overriding concerns. The first was that Wonder Woman has traditionally been a difficult character to do well; the second was that despite Wonder Woman’s appearance being the best single moment of Batman v Superman, that film was overwhelmingly terrible. Man of Steel, while not nearly as terrible, still severely misinterpreted Superman and demonstrated the filmmakers' complete misunderstanding of what makes the character tick. And while Suicide Squad was fun, its lack of interior logic or believable motivations, combined with shoehorned world building, did little to reassure me that DC and WB knew what they were doing with their fledgling universe.

Wonder Woman is the savior that DC/WB has been searching for. While far from a perfect film, it avoids many of the pitfalls of previous DCEU films, and sidesteps or merely ignores so many of the things that made Wonder Woman so difficult a character to write.

As a film, WW avoids the dark and heavy tones of the previous DC films, and largely ditches their

Due to her background, it never occurs to Diana not to trust

Etta with her sword.

dark, gloomy and CGI-riddled aesthetics. The film is bright and colorful, genuinely happy and funny at times, and surprisingly moving. Aside from the villains, the characters are well-written and acted, and their motivations are pure and clear. Despite all of this, Wonder Woman’s true success is its treatment of Diana as a character and a hero, and the film’s decision to address the “girl power” aspect by nearly ignoring it altogether. Diana has no chip on her shoulder about being a repressed woman. She’s not out to prove herself to anyone, and frankly wouldn’t even understand why a man might question her abilities. The film uses Diana’s background as strength. She isn’t bothered by sexism, because for her it doesn’t exist. And she’s often able to show her worth before it has a chance to reach her.

That the film is able to do this while still taking place in a time period of reduced woman’s rights is even more extraordinary. I never felt that the film was trying to teach me that woman were equal to men, or preach to me about the evils of sexism. Instead, the film, much like Diana, seemed unaware that these were issues at all. They merely went about the business of telling the story of a hero, gender be damned.

With the introduction of Steve Trevor and his romance with Diana, I was worried about how things would proceed. Diana is essentially this statuesque Greek goddess who comes very close to embodying the male fantasy--a naive virgin eager to learn about the world from the first man she meets. I was a little afraid the movie makers would feel compelled to make Steve the assertive one in the relationship, making Diana submissive, and then try to show this in some sort of love scene.

Their relationship, however, is refreshingly even. They fall in love with each other for their own reasons. Traditional Steve was always kind of a jerk, I felt, kind of cocky. But this Steve is kind and always in awe of Diana. Their eventual love scene is handled with more class and respect than I've seen in a movie in ages (i.e., they don't show it).

I really enjoyed how the film handled Steve Trevor. While he tried to protect Diana at first, he ends up kind of chasing her around trying to talk her out of stuff.... Just to end up watching her do it and then backing her up unconditionally.

There is also an action scene at the midpoint of the movie, in which Diana first fully reveals herself as Wonder Woman, which is hands-down phenomenal. Not only was it everything I wanted from a Wonder Woman movie, it was everything I wanted from a Captain America movie. Wonder Woman’s theme music, an electric guitar and drum driven jungle rock riff, makes an impression as the best superhero theme in decades, and helps drive the action scenes expertly.

As I mentioned, however, the film isn’t perfect. The use and quality of CGI in the film is glaringly inconsistent. While at times it seems to blend beautifully, at others it is so obvious and poorly done it nearly pulled me out of the film. Diana’s powers and abilities, as well as Ares’, were equally inconsistent and ill-defined. While Diana’s new origin as a demi-god is from the comics, her powers of reflecting lightening, making a shock wave, and stopping bullets with some sort of invisible force field are all original to the film, and make little sense when thought about. And while Wonder Woman can fly in the comics, I left the film still unsure if she learned to fly or not. While these powers don’t necessarily bother me, the lack of any explanation does.

After my first viewing, I honestly considered the possibility that Wonder Woman may be the best superhero film I’d seen. However, after some thought I realized I was simply so relieved that the film was decent, and that the character was presented in a way truthful to the spirit of the source material, that I was giving the film a little more credit than it was probably due. In the end, Wonder Woman is a decent, and maybe even great superhero movie. And it may have been the shot in the arm the DC movie universe needed. But the film’s real success is found in its treatment of the main character not as an empowered woman but as a hero and, despite her origins, a human being.

Wonder Woman (2017): Kate's Review

I liked it.

Here's why:

First, the cast is excellent. The names are not top-billing; they are top-tier. Across the board, the acting is solid.

Gal Gadot is magnificent. She has more of the Lynda Carter look than any female superhero in the movies or the comics. She's beautiful but not so overwhelming, she seems unapproachable. And she has an extra dose of vulnerability, making her relatable as well as approachable. To me, surprisingly enough, the most heart-aching part of the movie is when she crosses No Man's Land alone. Maybe it's my increasing age (the theater included me, a younger woman, two younger women and their boyfriends, and about four older couples) but it tore at my heart to see her thinking she could fix the world and the town with this single noble act. Three-quarters of the way across the field, she kneels to take a barrage of bullets. She can handle it; she's a goddess; she's not going to die. And yet, she's so (temporarily) alone, I teared up.

Chris Pine is a more than decent Steve Trevor and not at all boring (Lyle Waggoner makes me so sleepy, my brain stops working). This Steve Trevor is self-effacing, passionate yet surprisingly non-argumentative. His passion doesn't stem from a need to force others to his view but from inward conviction. So he's confident in his masculinity without being condescending or demanding. (See below for comments on the ending.)

Most importantly, from a writer's point of view, there's an actual internal and external problem. The story-line is surprisingly tidy. Me, I don't think that frills are necessary. A decent arc is all a movie, novel, or short story needs.

Wonder Woman's internal arc is fairly mild, but it is established early on, built on throughout the movie, and paid-off exactly as required. The external problem is also paid-off (see below). There are no radical twists here, and there don't need to be. Tell me a story. Make it a good one. Don't try to make it something it isn't.

I admit to being initially a tad disappointed that the story was taking place in the past. But I got over that disappointment fairly quickly. And it prepared me for later outcomes.

The fight sequences are notable and fun to watch--very Matrix-y, and I thought the use of the lasso as both truth enforcer AND weapon was quite effective.

The movie resolves some of the issues Mike refers to in his critique. Since this is an origin story, Wonder Woman figuring out her motive--what do I care about and why?--becomes the plot. After the origin story is finished, of course, she will need to find additional and more concrete reasons.

Having a god be her main rival makes sense but does move the villainy way beyond someone even like the Joker. And in all honesty, I am the kind of person who likes to watch superheroes do things like rescue kittens out of trees and move people to safety when a dam breaks. However, Wonder Woman as pure goddess is a nice treat.

It's 2017! So Wonder Woman touting female power through a sexy costume is okay, and I appreciated that her look was part culture/part practicality/part comfort. I also appreciated the movie's initial point that although the Amazonians won on the beach, guns utterly change the equation when it comes to warfare (take that, stupid Ewoks!). Finally, the lasso as only capable of producing the truth so far as the villain understands it (see below) is a cool problem that I think should always have been part of the Wonder Woman package (it allows for some great conflicts).

I'm afraid that future romance and relatability may still be struggles for Wonder Woman. But this movie succeeded at providing (what I understand to be) the classic story without apology.

*Spoilers--I Mean It--I Give Away the Ending--You've Been Warned* 

(1) Steve Trevor

I sighed a bit when I realized that Steve Trevor was going to sacrifice himself. Elsewhere I've written about how death can be a writing cop-out. However, in this case, it was fairly inevitable. Supposing that Steve Trevor bailed from the airplane at the last minute? And was rescued by the Amazonians and nursed back to health? He might live as long as Steve Rogers' Peggy Carter--but there's no guarantee; Pine gives Trevor that Kirk-like joie de vivre even in his own death. The guy lives on the edge. He was always going to die young.

In fact, he was always going to die. No matter what. Diana is going to lose him. No matter what. That's part of her heartache. That's why ultimately, she and Superman become a couple. Their human lovers die. Death is what happens when a person isn't immortal.

So I accepted his death.

From Mike: And while his sacrifice could be seen as a bit cliché, and as the man making the sacrifice in place of the woman, I saw it as Steve doing what he did throughout the film: seeing what Diana was capable of, and letting her do it while handling the stuff he could do. Diana had a god to fight, so of course Steve is going to take out the plane. Obviously he couldn’t swap places with her. 

(2) David Thewlis as Ares actually took me by surprise. Keep in mind, I was surprised by the end of The Sixth Sense, so it doesn't take much. (I thought the writers were going to pull a real switcheroo and make Ares a woman, such as Dr. Poison.)

He is kind of a side-note. As Mike mentions, he doesn't have the clearest of motivations. However, I appreciated his Loki-like persona and arguments. The movie is not a philosophical one by any means. But his argument to Diana caps off both the external and internal conflicts. I was especially impressed that he makes his case while wrapped in the lasso: he believes what he is saying. The serpent always speaks in half-truths.

We don't hear Diana's inner rebuttal, but we've seen enough to understand why she rejects Ares. She truly enjoys people--their oddities, their funniness, their differences. She likes not only Steve Trevor but Etta Candy, Charlie, Sameer, The Chief, the townspeople, babies, the person she thinks Sir Patrick to be. She is honestly invested in their troubles and in their ordinary enjoyments. Rejecting Ares may be a no-brainer but it's a definite choice, and she makes it willingly.

As an origin story, I'm not sure that I'd place Wonder Woman with Christian Bale's Batman Begins. But it deserves to be placed within the origin-story pantheon.

Ha ha. A little Greek humor there at the end.

Star Wars in Disney--Well, Pixar: Toy Story 2

MIKE SAYS Toy Story 2 is, on its own, a great film.  An extraordinary film, actually, especially for a children's movie.  Add it together with the other movies in the series and you get one of the most well-rounded, tightly woven and best-written trilogies ever made.

While -he film is by and large its own, self-contained and original story, the chance to play with Star Wars references, especially with the robotic Zurg, was just too good to pass up. Perhaps the coolest thing about this reference was its rarity.  At the time, pop culture references were fairly new, especially a direct shout out.  Disney and Pixar certainly led the charge on this, with Aladdin, Lion King, and others.

Since then, pop culture references have become rather commonplace, almost expected, and they have lost  a lot of their former luster.  While the references were fun surprises, it's important to note just what these references communicated:  the people who made this movie are products of the same culture as the audience themselves;  this is a film made by and for film junkies.  Which just makes it feel all that more personal.

Writing this review from the perspective of Fatherhood is difficult;  I love the film, and I would list it among the best children's movies of all time.  At the same time, I could probably go another ten years without the need to watch it.  This is probably due to my children watching it repeatedly.

But I still identify with the film:  The idea of nostalgic value being more important than monetary value, and the idea of preserving important aspects of our childhood.  For me, Star Wars will always be one of those childhood memories that will always have a special place in my heart.  Which may be why the Toy Story movies resonate so well:  they tap into those memories that most powerfully take us back to childhood.  

KATE SAYS this film is brilliant. It is one of those movies that has everything: a strong story with an actual ethical dilemma; clever dialog; engaging characters; and lots of spot-on cultural allusions that nevertheless don't overwhelm the story.

One of those great Pixar moments that make you cheer while

breaking your heart.

Before I get to the allusions, I must make a few shout-outs.

First, the story. The strength of Toy Story 2 is that Woody's dilemma is a real one. The "bad" side is not immediately obvious. The pros for going to the museum, lasting forever, giving generations of children (in the broad sense) something to look at and delight in combine to form a powerful argument. Woody has to fall back not on some easy answer but on his own sense of ethics. He also has to think outside the "box" (ha ha; sorry, more on this later) to deal with Jessie and Bullseye. Considering that this is a child's film, the philosophical debates at work are quite impressive.

Second, the dialog. It's hilarious and full of puns. At one point, Woody cries, "Stinky Pete, you're out of your box!" a great riff on "You're out of your mind." Also, like the first movie, Toy Story 2 contains neat little jokes that may go over a kid's head but make an adult yelp with laughter: my favorite from Toy Story is Rex's explanation of his origins:

REX: And I'm from Mattel. Well, I'm not really from Mattel, I'm actually from a smaller company that was purchased by Mattel in a leveraged buyout.

The excellently cast Wayne Knight.

The characters are just as strong as in the first movie. I love the "cameo" of the "Cleaner" (he's the guy from the Pixar short who plays chess against himself). Naturally, Tom Hanks and Tim Allen are excellent as well as lovable John Ratzenberger, but I have to give huge shout-outs to newcomers Kesley Grammer and Wayne Knight. Wayne Knight is so perfectly drawn and voiced, I feel like I'm watching, well, that guy from Jurassic Park.

Speaking of Jurassic Park . . . but no, I'll let you find that awesome movie allusion yourself.

There are, of course, a number of great Star Wars references. The opening sequence is more generic sci-fi than Star Wars-specific. However, there are a few very Star Wars-y moments and sounds. And it is just about the longest set-up for a truly great pay-off I've ever seen in a movie. The pay-off doesn't come until almost the very end with the release of Evil Emperor Zurg (played by James Earl Jones' sound-alike, Andrew Stanton). It is totally worth it!

This kind of thing--constant allusions to outside media and current events--has become de rigeur in movie and television scripts in the last few years. Such allusions run the risk of eclipsing the story, but Toy Story 2 combines its allusions so effortlessly with plot, characters, and gentle spirit, nothing is lost.

And what a great way to put one's Star Wars knowledge to use! I've always said it's worthwhile knowing one's popular culture!!

Star Wars as Pop Sci-Fi and Space Opera: The Fifth Element

MIKE SAYS The Fifth Element is possibly one of the weirdest film we've ever reviewed.  A product of the late 90's, the film instantly confused most of the people who saw it, became a moderate financial success, and then went on to become a cult favorite.  If anything, the film is a great example of the Pop Sci-Fi trend of the time, in which filmmakers were struggling to find a way to make sci-fi new and exciting again, which was achieved by finding foreign directors, which definitely put a fresh spin on things... at least for Americans.

Everything about The Fifth Element starts falling into context when it's viewed as a foreign film, particularly as a French film.  The color pallet, the mix of comedy and action, and the completely incomprehensible plot all scream European sci-fi.  In fact, introduce a slightly muted color pallet, and I've just described an episode of Doctor Who.

The muddled plot of the film still haunts me to this day....between the weird talking comet threatening to destroy the planet, an alien weapon whose purpose and function are never truly explained, and the very fuzzy origins of Leelo (who may or may not have been the alien driving the spaceship instead of the stone slab), dwelling on the plot of The Fifth Element is an excellent way to get a headache.

Despite this, the film oozes fun, using humor, often in extreme ways, and action to deliver a film that while confusing, certainly entertains.

As far as any similarities to Star Wars, the only connection I can see is that both fall into the category of Pop Sci-fi, a genre which Star Wars practically gave birth to. While Star Wars is often debated as a deep and meaningful exploration of mythology and archetypes, in the end what made it popular was its generous use of special effects, its universal appeal and accessibility, and its focus on action instead of plot (much of which I still credit the editor for, rather than Lucas).

To say The Fifth Element was hoping to be the next Star Wars may not be entirely accurate, but it may not be far off either.  With mystical origins, a large universe to explore, a literal Death Star, and an empowered hero, the film does have a lot of the same great elements of Star Wars, though to think these were entirely on purpose is probably a stretch..

While this movie has missed the boat on being the next great hero of Pop Sci-Fi (largely due, I think, to the nonsensical plot),  it still remains a very entertaining, though very odd, example of the sub-genre.

KATE SAYS the best way to describe The Fifth Element is lush--which (perhaps unfairly) pushes it towards the fantasy rather than sci-fi genre.

Opera IN Space

Not that sci-fi can't be lush. The Fifth Element is visually similar to Blade Runner meets Doctor Who (with a Stargate opening), all three of which are technically sci-fi. Yet the lack of technobabble and core of mysticism place it closer to the fantasy line.

Since space is involved, Space Opera is the useful term here.

"Space Opera" is possibly the only resemblance The Fifth Element bears to Star Wars. However, I think the resemblance is an important one. Sci-fi, almost from its beginnings, fell into both fantasy/adventure (Edgar Rice Burroughs) and technology revolution (Asimov) genres. Star Wars melded the two with fantasy/adventure taking precedence. Through Joseph Campbell's analysis, this approach to sci-fi (big spaceships plus priests) was legitimatized and well-crystallized for later use.

Other than the Jedi-like (and adorable) priests (aah, Ian Holm!), the other resemblance to Star Wars seems to be the intense use of British extras. I mean--okay, there's Gary Oldman again doing his Gary Oldman thing. I've mentioned Ian Holm. John Neville makes a sneaky appearance, looking rather unlike himself. And then the non-English Luke Perry just drops in.

All this off-the-cuff WAIT! WHO WAS THAT? makes for an utterly fun and amusing film. It's a little longer than it needs to be, but it almost doesn't matter. Watching The Fifth Element is rather like watching Moulin Rouge. You look up and hey, they're doing another number! (Actually, parts of it are a LOT like Moulin Rouge. It did not surprise me to learn that Les Besson, a French director, has made several music videos.)

And of course, Bruce Willis is excellent as always--he's more the character from RED than from Die Hard.  Hero-smhero: the guy can do sci-fi action in his sleep.

Star Wars Copied? Battlestar Galatica (1978)

KATE SAYS this television movie was far, far, far less hooky than I'd anticipated. In many ways, it reminded me more of Forbidden Planet's story and look than either Star Trek or Star Wars, especially the pristine special effects (more on both Star Trek and Star Wars later).

Mostly, I was impressed by how much 2003 Battlestar Galatica relied on the original to create its remake. There's the ship's design; the carrier-landing approach to incoming spacecraft; the complex political situation; the mix of sci-fi and mysticism. Characters even use made-up swear words (Starbucks says, "Frack!" once).

I have to give kudos to Battlestar Galatica's 2003 producers for truly respecting the original (at least in the first season, which is all I've seen; the show got too soap-opery for me in the following seasons; however, I plan to give the original series a try!).

Two major differences between 2003 and 1978: human Cylons in 2003, which I greatly prefer. Give me elegant androids any day over clunky robots. 

And a male Starbuck in 1978 (though the female and male Starbucks have similar personalities). The switch in gender says something about changing times; on the other hand, women are impressively omnipresent on the 1978 battleship as are blacks: it isn't just a white male person's future.

And what a cast! Wilfrid Hyde-White shows up. Wilfrid Hyde-White is one of my favorite British actors of the mid-twentieth century. I know him best from Columbo and Agatha Christie's Ten Little Indians. His voice is instantly recognizable.

The 1978 cast includes another Columbo graduate, Ray Milland (yes, okay, he is better known for Dial M for Murder). Milland was an expert at playing snarky characters who are more slimy than totally evil.

So I really enjoyed the movie.

As for the Star Wars copyright infringements, the only similarities I saw were visual as in the weapons and the ships. I suppose if I had designed stuff for Star Wars and it then showed up on Battlestar, I might get a little peeved (although the Battlestar folks argued that the Star Wars folks stole everything from them in the first place). But my personal reaction was that Battlestar Galatica was likely influenced as much by NASA and Star Trek as anything else (in fact, the movie kind of turns into a Star Trek episode at the mid-way point). And they all owe something to 1956 Forbidden Planet.

Did Lucas et al. really think they'd invented sci-fi?

Okay, bad question. Lucas might actually think that.

But I agree with the final ruling.

MIKE SAYS first off, I should apologize.  If any of you out there in Internet land are still reading, we've been on a month or more of Unannounced Hiatus, mostly due to my summer suddenly becoming AWESOME.  In the last few weeks, I've been camping twice, once at a water park; I've been to Maine and back (where I grabbed a quick lunch with Kate!), and just this last weekend, I went to the inaugural Salt Lake Comic-con where I got to meet Stan Lee.  School has also started, along with my annual Bump up to a 60 hours/week.  To say the last month has been busy would be, well, fairly accurate.

Fitting a viewing of the very long BattleStar pilot into these events, especially with 4 other people sharing my television, made it even harder.  What I discovered, to my delight, is that Battlestar was actually very well made and written.  And, as Kate mentions above, the extent to which the new series honors the original is truly astounding.

The pilot starts off fairly mellow, but events escalate quickly, and it's not long before Humanity is on the run from the Cylons. What I really enjoyed about the show is the grand sense of mythology behind the Battlestar world.  There's a complicated past that may or may not be connected to our own. The story plugs so many different little tastes of cultures and histories that it carries alot of depth.  With names taken from Greek mythology, Christianity, and even hints at African and Egyptian heritage (check out the fighter pilot helmets again to see what I mean!), the world of Galactica is certainly rich with potential.

The opening movie certainly does its best to tap into this potential, and it gets mixed results.  The story certainly has punch in certain moments; the fall of the colonies, and the death of Adama's family certainly help with this.  The action comes in fits and starts, but is mostly satisfying.  Perhaps the biggest detraction to the opening film is the pacing, which certainly plays more like several episodes instead of a movie proper.

The smaller arcs are a bit distracting, especially with the overarching linking story.  While the killer casino world makes for a great Trek episode, it felt awkward here, as if Battlestar was trying to establish itself as several different types of series in order to have options later.

In many ways, the modern show really is an improvement, as the plot is much tighter, the motivation of the enemies much clearer, and the plight of the humans is so much more believable.  Other modern non-Trek sci-fi shows, such as Babylon 5 and even Stargate Universe seem to take more pages from Battlestar than Trek, and do a better job capitalizing on the idea and themes.

As for the Star Wars connection, well aside from a couple aesthetic choices, I really don't see much of a connection.  While there are similarities, such as smaller fighter ships that break of the big ship, robotic helmets, and a human race of non-earth origins, this may be more due to the times than any creative theft.  Chariot of the Gods, Star Trek, A Space Odyssey, and many other landmark sci-fi franchises had all surfaced in the previous decade, and the country was still high off several Moon missions, and was preparing, very soon, to begin the Space Shuttle program.

This time period was rife with symbolic sci-fi, and the use of space to explain the purpose of life was more the norm than the exception.  If anything, I think the lawsuite was the product of financial greed and worry; the folks behind Star Wars were concerned about their bet paying off, and they were afraid audiences would get confused.  As even Asimov himself claimed that Battlestar was nothing but a blatant rip-off, it becomes easier to see their concern, as unwarranted as it was.

Star Wars Venerated: Fanboys

MIKE SAYS Fanboys is one of those films that once made, almost never got released.  Despite fan interest, actor support, and the gaining popularity of some of the actors (namely Seth Rogen and Kristen Bell), the studio was reluctant to release the film, though they kept spending money on it: Re-shoots, rewrites, occasional promotional material.  So fraught with uncertainty was the studio that when they finally decided to release the film to DVD, there was less than a month from the decision to the release itself!

When it finally was released, I excitedly bought, watched, and really enjoyed it.  Are there things about the film that are a little odd?  Yes.  Could the film have been stronger? Definitely.  But in the end, the film succeeds in showing us exactly what it set out to do:  How the love of fiction can either hold us back, or become something that elevates us and helps us to achieve our goals.

There are some things about the film that are a little narrow in terms of its target audience: The Star Wars/Star Trek battle is one of those.  I've been a Geek all my life, and I've seen little evidence of this rivalry other than the obvious "which studio wants to make more money" type of thing.  In my way of thinking, the two franchises are barely comparable; while both are technically sci-fi shows, Star Wars is a fantasy that can take place in any setting, while Trek is ABOUT our relationship with technology.

But Fanboy logic isn't always that, well, logical.  What the film does best, for me, is showing the interaction of a group of guys that all enjoy the same thing, probably because the real world doesn't make a whole lot of sense to them.  Having a film that sees the world through their eyes, and taking a journey for the thing they love is awesome, and touching, even if it may be played a little weirdly at times.

There is a lot of irony in the film, though this is underplayed much more than I expected.  While I was pretty excited about The Phantom Menace when it came out, the years have provided perspective and insight, and there's little denying that it's a very, very badly made film.  Instead of focusing on that, however, Fanboys focuses on the hope that each fan had for the film, and the potential they saw.  While the quality of the final product is commented and foreshadowed a couple times (the pimp with the Jar Jar tattoo was a particularly painful example), it's the attitude of hope and a love for the story that's really focused on.  And by the time the characters have reached the opening of Phantom Menace, each has progressed to a point that the film really doesn't matter; each had progressed in their lives, and while it's definitely okay to love something, their reals lives had taken precedence.

The only thing that could have made the film any better for me would have been a cameo from Lucas himself, though I don't think anyone was too surprised by his absence.

KATE SAYS as far I can tell, Fanboys is the male Geek answer to Beaches and Terms of Endearment.

Since I don't even get Beaches and Terms of Endearment, Fanboys was rather like watching Galaxy Quest in Thermian (which you can do, by the way!). A whole bunch of "Huh"?

For example, I was totally non-plussed by the Star Trek v. Star Wars stuff--at least initially. I'm a Trekkie, but I've never felt any animosity towards the Star Wars universe (just towards Lucas's directing). I intellectually understand that people can and will take unrelenting positions on pop culture issues (like Angel-Buffy v. Spike-Buffy fans), but the Star Trek v. Star Wars thing just didn't resonate.

Initially.

I began to think there might be something to the us v. them split when I asked myself, "Is there a contemporary satire that spoofs sci-fi that you, Kate, do connect with at that awesome Geek level?"

The answer: Galaxy Quest.

This was about the same time that William Shatner showed up in Fanboys, and I laughed myself silly.

So maybe I'm a Trekkie in more than just name.

I did enjoy Fanboys' use of Star Wars as the ultimate Geek symbol: the sheer excitement of being obsessed with a particular world, group of characters, or storyline. I may not get Star Wars at that level, but I get obsessing over Trek (naturally), Stargate (the fanboys watch Stargate during the movie!), difficult-to-track-down graphic novels, and Agent Coulson.

From Num3rs. Later in the episode, the character provides a
great deadpan line: "So I get shot, and you guys respond
by doing a lot math."

In addition, the movie's ending supplies some great moments, such as everyone threatening to burn stuff and Linus sitting alone in the theater while his friends wait. The movie is really about the journey, and the journey is truly a gift.

And I enjoyed seeing Jay Baruchel again. I ran across Jay Baruchel in Numb3rs. I'm a fan. So I was glad not only to see him in the movie but with the role he got to play.

Mel Brooks' Star Wars: Spaceballs

MIKE SAYS Spaceballs is one of the films that kids of my generation grew up with, watching at late night parties and sleepovers; it was one of those films put in the league of "Monty Python" and others, where it became increasingly funny with the lateness of the hour, which means it became pretty hysterical considering how funny it was in the first place.

I may have understood and enjoyed Spaceballs more than I did Star Wars itself for awhile.  The humor, while clever at times, is generally about body parts and toileting, something that children (and, admittedly, most men) find endlessly entertaining.  The villain/hero relationships are much less complex, and, well, let's face it, John Candy will always be a slightly better sidekick than Chewy, if only by a small margin.

One of the things I find endlessly entertaining about the film is its ability to parody iconic image, and in the process, create equally iconic moments.  Guaranteed, you show a picture of Dark Helmet to a random group of people, and at least half of them will break into a huge grin.  And the singing and dancing alien is almost always on my mind no matter which diner I'm eating at.

There are two big misconceptions about this film:  The first is that it is family and child-friendly; I would say that it depends on the family.  While definitely not appropriate for us at the age my siblings and I watched it, that didn't stop us.  The second big misconception is that one must appreciate and know Star Wars to get it, and that isn't true.  While the jabs and jokes at the series' expense do hit better with the well-informed, Spaceballs is just goofy and silly enough that just about anybody will get and appreciate what's going on;  in fact some viewers may take it more seriously than Star Wars itself!

KATE SAYS this is a cute movie (that I can't believe I've never seen!). Rather than a strict parody, it is a story (that holds together surprisingly well) with parodic elements--okay, LOTS of parodic elements, but the story has its own set-up, climax, and pay-off with odd little tributes not only to Star Trek and Alien but It Happened One Night and The Wizard of Oz (I love the Ewok-Munchkins!).

George Wyner

In some ways, Spaceballs even makes more sense than its original. The Empire's motivation in Star Wars IV is STOP THE REBELLION--but nobody ever explains why. Even big bad Empires, like Rome, went through several hundred years of diplomacy, skirmishes, and local insurrections before they razed entire civilizations to the ground. At least, Spaceballs' Empire has a clear reason for its actions!

And, mostly due to Bill Pullman's intrinsic sweetness, the princess-rogue romance delivers fairly high-class acting/dialog.

Scene from "The Red Mile"

I honestly expected more scatological humor, more silliness, and more just pure dumbness. But I quite enjoyed the movie. I have to admit that many of my reservations were squashed when I saw George Wyner (as Colonel Sandurz). George Wyner played Coroner Steiner in The Mentalist; he is a gifted comedian and performed excellently opposite Simon Baker in the straight man role ("The Red Mile" is one of the best Mentalist episodes on record--and it has nothing to do with Red John!).

Yup--That's Tim Russ on the left.

And, okay, I did enjoy the silliness: Spaceball City with the multiple Death Stars; Sandurz's "Are we being too literal?" line in response to the big combs for "combing the desert"; the "father's brother's cousin's former roommate" line. I LOVE the Winnebago; Tim Russ showing up (I just like Tim Russ).

My favorite line comes from Mel Brooks: "The ship is too big. If I walk, the movie will be over." That's kind of a random choice, but it's the sort of thing I think when I go to super-supermarkets: "Geez, by the time I walk from fruits & vegetables to dairy, dinner time will be over," so it made me guffaw.

Star Wars Star Wars Everywhere!

It sprang into being in 1977, the imaginative masterpiece of wunderkid George Lucas--or at least a imaginative masterpiece after serious editing:

STAR WARS!

It was a huge hit, selling to packed theaters and spawning a franchise that is still operative today. It got Joseph Campbell all excited. It pushed fed-up actor Harrison Ford into the limelight. Star Wars inspired a generation of geeks, writers, and filmakers, changing American culture and cinema forever.

There are traces of its impact everywhere, especially in film and television.  In fact, it's fair to say that every non-period major television series made since features at least one Star Wars reference.  The influence of Star Wars is so profound, that when we talked about a tribute list, or a list of shows that all reference one source, Star Wars was the obvious choice.

Each of the titles on this list pays homage to Star Wars in its own way, ranging from pure imitation, proven plagiarism, to good-natured mockery.  While the impact of Star Wars has been much more profound than some funny references, there are few films that are being referenced just as consistently 35 years later.

Here's the list. Reviews will begin the weekend of June 22nd.

1. Family Guy: "Blue Harvest"
2. Spaceballs
3. Robot Chicken: "Star Wars"
4. Fanboys
5. Battlestar Galatica Pilot (1978)
6. Fifth Element
7. Friends: "The One With the Princess Leia Fantasy" (Season 3) and That 70's Show: "A New Hope" (Season 1)
8. Toy Story II
9. X-Files: "Small Potatoes" (Season 4) and "Jose Chung's From Outer Space" (Season 3)
10. Scrubs: "My Two Dads" (Season 1) and Phineas and Ferb: "The Chronicles of Meap" (Season 2)

The Club's review of Star Wars: A New Hope can be found here, including Mike and Kate's separate introductions to the franchise.

A sizzling  (and very entertaining) critique of the Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, and Revenge of the Sith can be found at Red Letter Media.

Andrew Lloyd Webber: Phantom of the Opera and Evita

Andrew Lloyd Webber started his career with Tim Rice, who we already encountered with Disney! One of their first operas was Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, then Jesus Christ Superstar (on the presumable assumption that what works for the Old Testament will work for the New). For Webber, Evita followed, then Cats, then Phantom. Nothing since has had the sheer overwhelming-cultural-phenomenon popularity of these musicals.

MIKE SAYS Evita is the only musical I've ever seen that is ONLY a musical.  There are only a few spoken phrases, only a scene or two that aren't governed by the music.  The action, interactions, dialog, and plot are all communicated by music, though there are only a couple genuine dance numbers.

This makes Evita an oddly powerful film, though a little hard to pick up in the middle.  The trouble with the structure of the film is that it's at least 50% montage, if not more.  As a result, any person walking into the film partway will be completely lost.  Hell, I sometimes get lost, and it's a favorite of mine.

Madonna's performance is impressive; of course, she nails the singing, but her acting in phenomenal, so good, in fact, that it nearly helps me forget the travesty that was Dick Tracy.

The music of the film is fairly complex; you have verses that change in rhythm and speed, lines that don't always rhyme, and at least one singer who may or may not be an actual character.

Antonio Banderas's character is one of the most compelling, and cofusing, aspects of the film.  He seems to be a symbolic character, who may or may not be the narrator, who represents the people, and who may or may not have actually interacted with Evita.  Yet, it's completely fascinating. 

While definitely unique, I think Evita is phenomenal filmmaking . . . even if half the audience is asleep by the end.

Phantom of the Opera has been a film I've avoided for some time, and all because of its infamous director.  Schumacher nearly destroyed the Batman franchise with his neon-lighted, homoerotic take on the Dark Knight.

Because of this, I have avoided his work for some time.  Upon finally watching Phantom, I have to reluctantly say that he was a good choice for the film.  There were several things I didn't care for (among them, the fact that the film looks like it was filmed on a back lot in 2004 . . . there's little effort to convince me otherwise), but for the most part, the visual style of the director complemented the film.

The plot of the novel has been blended a bit, parts combined and moved about. Whether this follows the play or not, I can't really say.  The film version, though, is definitely a spectacle, such that small things, such as plot and character development, fall into the background.  With gold-painted men holding candlsticks and a mist-covered underground lake, well, it's not hard to get carried away.

The music is enjoyable and recognizable.  The opening of the film is ridiculous, over-the-top, and powerful.  While I was impressed with the acting of the film overall, there is one element that explains the cult success (especially here in the Mormon Corridor): Emmy Rossum.  Between her incredible voice and her staggering beauty (That hair!  Wow!),  there is little in the film half as interesting or as memorable as she.

Overall, though,  I can see how this tale has captured the attention of audiences.  Between the music and the universal theme of being rejected for our hidden flaws, this Beauty and the Beast tale appeals to almost anyone.

I enjoyed the films very much, But I'm with Kate:  Webber may need some help . . . and don't get me started on Shumacher.

KATE SAYS I reviewed Phantom of the Opera (2004) a few years back. As I stated in my initial review, it is a total hoot. I've seen it multiple times since I reviewed it (in 2006) plus for this review. It's still a hoot! After all, the final scene includes a man being strangled, a man sloshing through water, and a really ticked-off woman all singing their hearts out: what's not to like!

But after watching Evita (which I'd seen but had totally forgotten), I've really began to wonder about Webber's psyche. His musicals celebrate the life of a stalker, the wife of a dictator, dysfunctional cats, a muscial about Jesus Christ that emphasizes Judas Iscariot, and roller-skating trains. These all make Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat--my favorite of Webber's productions--seem downright rational in comparison.

I first heard the music for Joseph when I was somewhere between seven and nine. I listened to it over and over again until I memorized all the songs (I still know them). Joseph, like Phantom, belongs to Webber's more singable musicals. (Last fall, I saw a local production that was the best version of the musical I have ever seen, including Donny Osmond's!)

Evita is not singa-longable.

In fact, Evita is really more of an "opera" than the others. While the others rely on set pieces that have entered the world of American Idol, talent shows, and elevator music, Evita's music is really more like singing dialog. Except for "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina," the "songs" aren't really all that memorable in the sing-to-myself-in-the-shower sense.

The unsettling thing about Evita, however, isn't the music but its topic. Why? Why did a British composer decide to write about the wife of an Argentinian dictator?

If Webber had written the musical even ten years later, I would have assumed he was reacting to the  mind-bending adoration Britishers felt for their own dysfunctional princess, Princess Diana. (Christopher Hitchens, bless him, is one of the few British commentators who was willing to point out, long before The Queen, that Princess Diana's so-called humanitarism was threaded through with a massive degree of demanding neediness and narcissicism and that the royal family was justified in considering her something of a pain in the ass; by the way, I also feel this way about the worship of American celebrities--except Cesar Millan, who totally deserves all the fame and fortune that comes his way.)

But alas for my analysis, Evita was written before Diana married Charles.

In any case, the musical--though odd--does one thing massively right: the character played by Antonio Banderas. If you are going to tell the biography of a dictator's wife, it is a very, very good idea to include a commentator. Antonio Banderas as Che reminds me of the narrator of  Faulkner's short story "A Rose for Emily," who is all members of the community, past and present. "They" comment throughout the story on the community's opinions, speculations, and judgments of Emily. Che does something quite similar.

Madonna is good (Madonna is quite an extraordinary artiste although she's dropped off Hollywood's shock-radar in the past few years). And Jonathan Pryce is unbelievably amazing. He manages to convey Peron's true affection for Evita alongside his willingness to use her for his own political ends.

However, Phantom of Opera is and will always be far more memorable--for good reason. Webber's style simply doesn't lend itself to what he was trying to do with Evita: convey the full complexity of a charismatic individual. Phantom, on the other hand, is pure fairytale--and I don't mean that in a snide sense. It's myth, lore, Grimm, the dark matter of our psyches.

But then tales about stalking always are.

(Perhaps Webber should do a musical of Twilight . . . )

The Muppet Movie and The Muppets

The Muppet Show had been on the air four years when The Muppet Movie came out in 1979. It was followed by several movies about the Muppets (The Great Muppet Caper, The Muppets Take Manhattan) and several with the Muppets as literary characters (The Muppet Christmas Carol) not to mention three trillion television spin-offs (can anyone say, The Muppet Babies?).

KATE SAYS I admit I was nervous to see The Muppets (2011). I consider The Muppet Movie to be one of the most delightful movies on record with a perfect combination of memorable songs, an Americana plot, hilarious cameos, and raw feeling. Although the movie often breaks the fourth wall (as when Dr. Teeth et al. find Kermit and Fozzie in the desert by reading the script), it remains absolutely true to its own objectives.

But after The Muppet Movie, the Muppets got self-conscious. Although I enjoyed the second movie (mostly because of Charles Grodin: "Thieves aren't breathing down your neck!"), I disliked Muppets Take Manhattan after which I kind of gave up on the Muppets until The Muppet Christmas Carol. It seemed like every new rendition became more self-conscious and more cutisfied: kind of like Law & Order spin-offs: still okay, but not as gritty and heartfelt as the real thing.

So I was somewhat uneasy when I sat down to watch The Muppets.

I'll say this--it is still more self-conscious than I would have liked. However, it never pretends that it isn't exactly what it is: a tribute not just to the original Muppet Show but to the generation that was influenced and molded by that show. And at least three of the jokes/cameos sent me rolling to the floor:

(1) The 80's robot, especially when it starts up its modem, causing everyone in the car to wince. This is definitely a generational thing: I hate to say it, but I don't think even my (college) students would get that joke.

(2) The "Are you a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?" line, especially the way Kermit pauses, then says, "Um, yes!"

(3) Jim Parsons. I won't say any more; I don't want to ruin it for anyone else! But I've never been so delighted.

I also happen to adore Chris Cooper who does a great job as the (fiction) guest celebrity. And I get a kick out of Jack Black who not only does a good job as the (real if reluctant) guest celebrity but captures the attitude/approach of many of the original guest celebrities on the show. I got a kick of Neil Patrick Harris's line ("Why am I not hosting this?"), the "evil English accent" line (kudos!) and this, possibly my favorite exchange (the WHOLE exchange):

Miss Piggy: Kermit. Jack Black has graciously agreed to do the telethon.
Kermit: That's amazing. Where is he?
Miss Piggy: In the truck.
Kermit the Frog: What? You kidnapped Jack Black? That's illegal!
Fozzie Bear: What's more illegal, Kermit: briefly inconveniencing Jack Black, or destroying the Muppets?
Kermit the Frog: Kidnapping Jack Black, Fozzie!
Miss Piggy: Kermit. Listen. Whatever I may think of you right now, these guys are counting on you. You inspired them.
Kermit the Frog: What, to kidnap people?
Miss Piggy: To work together.
Kermit the Frog: To kidnap people!?
Lew Zealand: Mr. the Frog, we all agreed, a celebrity is not a people.

I love Kermit's response to "you inspired them to work together": "To kidnap people?!" (And I love how kind Kermit is in both versions--with his little touch of acerbity.)

Extra kudos: like the first movie, the 2011 movie has a heart-felt theme which works on more than one level. It's a tad more slathered on than the theme of the first movie, but still within the same ball-park emotion and concept-wise. And I have to give credit to Jason Segal for playing his role (mostly) straight-faced although I think Walter wins here for never smirking (seriously!). 

All said and done, though, I still prefer the first. I love the music for one thing. I totally sang along during the movie. And few things in life are as touching to me as Gonzo's solo (see below). For another, I find I prefer those musicals that seem effortless--as if the actors and director just went out one day and created a film off the top of their heads. When Sweetums cried, "Hey, wait for me. C'mon guys, I want to go to Hollywood!" I was instantly reminded of a Rocky Horror exchange: Magenta's statement, "But I thought you liked them. They liked you" and Riff Raff's response, "They never liked me!"--all these lines come out of nowhere, yet totally fit their films.

The Muppets deserve a tribute, and The Muppets is a good movie; still, I mostly prefer them when they just were who they were without much self-reflection.

MIKE SAYS The Muppets helped define my childhood in more ways than I can ever fully express.  Sesame Street helped me love to learn, The Muppet Show helped me love to laugh, and The Muppet movies helped me love musicals.  The original Muppet movie was on throughout my childhood, and rarely a road trip went by without a stirring and glaringly off-key sing along of "Moving Right Along."

I don't find it odd at all that the Indie movie boom came along just about when those kids who first saw the Muppet movies in theaters became adults.  After all, if the Muppets can band together to make a movie, why not us?

The original movie stands up over the years, and my son loves it as much as I do.  The music is fantastic, the jokes are sharp, and the world of the Muppets is rich and warm.  To say that the new movie replaces the original movie in any way would just be blasphemy.  And, well, Untrue.

The Muppets is a wonderful and fitting tribute to the original, and to the age of the Muppets in general.  The number "Pictures in My Head" sums up the entire movie for me.  While I adore the entire soundtrack, this song in particular beckons to the memories and tells them that even though the time is passed, it's okay to relive them.  When I first saw the film in the theater, I was anxious, excited, and trying to prepare for a disaster.  Instead, when the Muppet paintings came alive during Kermit's song, I burst into tears. Because, as impossible as the thought was, I did want the Muppets to come back, and when they did, it was glorious.

There's a lot of great things about the new movie.  As I said, the music is absolutely wonderful, as is the message.  And despite some early controversy, I liked that the Muppets were able to stay funny without being compromised.  The Song "Man or a Muppet" is, I feel, the anthem of the Muppets generation.

But in the end, the movie is just what it feels like, a Tribute.  Maybe a return as well, but the truth is that any films that follow will never really reach the pinnacle of the original.  It's entirely possible that this is because of nostalgia, but I'd prefer to think it's because it was just a darn good film.

The 80's Goes 90's: Last Action Hero

Last Action Hero is not strictly an 80's movie since it came out in 1993. However, it does a great job summing up many of the themes we have tackled in this list, especially the tendency for filmmakers to both utilize and explore technology at the same time. In this case, the technology is film-making itself. 

MIKE SAYS Last Action Hero is a terribly underrated film.  Rotten tomatoes lists the film with a 38%, well within "rotten" territory.  While older films generally have a more dramatic gap between critics and audiences, the gap for LAH is small, scoring just 40%.  This is really too bad, especially considering just how fun a flick this is. LAH was also a bit before its time, as the type of "meta" humor used here--such as refrences, cliches, and stereotypes being referenced and used to the extreme--has become very common and popular. True, it was a bit of a movement in the 90's, (see The Scream and Naked Gun movies), but today this type of humor isn't just for film geeks anymore.  It's kind of standard knowledge.

Hero, while a 90's movie in many ways, really is an homage to the 80's action film: a memorable character, fun one-liners, and movie laws that defy logic. Using Schwarzenegger was pure genius.  Not only does he embody the 80's action hero, but his talents as a comedian are rarely utilized so well.

The idea of merging the real world with fiction, of living the fantasies seen before in the movies, was a common theme of the 80's. This film takes this idea and examines it, has fun with it. Danny's role in the film, of understanding where he fits in the fiction world, and then finding his place in the real world, is exactly the journey that we, as film watchers, should take. The trouble is that journey is never really finished.

Where the film really begins to sing, for me, is when Danny and Jack enter the real world.  That Danny gives Jack the same advice that we give anyone who dissects a movie to an extreme, "You can't go through life nitpicking every little thing!"  is just icing on the cake.

One of the funnest things is the juxtaposition of the two worlds.  Even the crime-ridden, dangerous world of Jack Slater is almost candy-coated sweet compared to Danny's reality, a truth that even startles the villain. The film takes on some pretty serious literary concepts, which is surprising in a film that is meant to be a comedy.  That the film takes a dark turn towards the end is risky, but also very 80's.

Perhaps the biggest problem of the film is that it doesn't really deliver on some of the concepts it explores.  That Jack remains the hero of the film is a major flaw.  The problem is that as a fictional character, Jack shouldn't be the one with the character arc-- the growth should be Danny's.  Jack should have merely served the purpose that all fictional characters do: that of teaching and helping us to learn a valuable life lesson.  Giving Jack the big confrontations takes this away from Danny.

Danny's conversation with Death is the closest he gets to a final confrontation.  This feels like a missed opportunity, as the death of Danny's father is never really explored.  Danny's confrontation with Death and his love of the invincible hero Jack Slater would have made so much more sense in the context of a child who had lost a parent, and it would have been more emotionally satisfying.  Danny's acceptance of the real world, the death of his father, and gaining the courage to face it, would have given the movie the emotional conclusion that it desperately needs.

Instead, the movie stays about Jack, which makes sense given the star billing, but robs the story, and Danny, of any real impact.  Jack's character arc of facing his worst nightmares (the Axeman and his son's death) and accepting his role as a fictional hero ("Our lives are ruled by Hollywood writers!") is ultimately wasted, and inappropriate.  The only arc Jack really needed was the small knowledge that his life, and tragedies, just serve to teach and inspire people like Danny.

Despite this, the movie is still a lot of fun, and its explorations of the movie universe, and rules, make being a movie fan all that more sweet.  I have to wonder, though, if Schwarzenegger  enjoyed making the film as much as it appears he did.  It takes a special actor to make a movie that both honors and pokes fun at his entire career, and I have to respect him for that.

KATE SAYS I really like this movie. This is probably the third time I’ve seen it, and I enjoyed it just as much as the first time.

Granted, it is a rip off of Purple Rose of Cairo—which movie I only vaguely remember—but Woody Allen is too angsty for me anyway. And if I remember Purple Rose correctly, the themes are not exactly the same.

One of the themes of Last Action Hero is the one you would expect--real life isn’t like in the movies!--but I don’t think it is the theme. Another theme--watching movies can help you be brave in real life--is slightly more emphasized but not really paid off in the end (we don’t see Danny standing up to bullies at school, etc.).

To me the real insight/point of the movie occurs in the scene where Death confronts Jack and Danny in the movie theater. Now, granted, this is a fictional character (played by Sir Ian McKellan) confronting two more fictional characters, one of whom is supposed to be a real boy. But Death is a bigger concept than all that.

Danny asks if Death is going to take Jack.

“I don’t do fiction,” Death sniffs.

To me, this underscores an ongoing idea throughout the movie—NOT the idea that people in real life die while people in movies don’t (sob sob) but that all creation/fiction/story is constructed. Death is no more or less a motif in an action/hero movie than he is in a profound European flick. It’s all art. It’s all made.

So . . . how is it made?

This to me is the question the writers of Last Action Hero are asking. The movie is a study in motifs though not necessarily a criticism of those motifs. The motifs of “flesh wounds” and “comic relief” simply exist. They simply are what they are. Danny instantly recognizes these motifs; when Jack Slater IV begins, Danny knows EXACTLY what is going to happen next. Why is that a bad thing? And what’s the difference between a motif and a cliché and a stereotype anyway?

The writers don’t come to any conclusions about motifs/clichés, etc.—which gives the movie an unfinished feel at the end—but they sure have a lot of fun exploring the problem!  

So, there’s a lot of satire going on, and I love the Schwarzenegger taking out Elsinore scene. But I confess that even more than the Death scene, my favorite parts are the really off-kilter jokes.

I love the trained dogs, just adore them.

The 80's Goes Cult Classic:The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension was released in theaters in 1984 and, like so many of Peter Seller's films, became an instant cult classic.

KATE SAYS this film is full of great lines, so many that it is hard to choose a favorite. I think mine is "No, no, no, don't tug on that. You never know what it might be attached to" but that could change tomorrow.

The movie ends rather abruptly--there really is no big confrontation or send-off. But then the movie's plot is almost the least important part of the movie which focuses more on interactions than sequencing ("There! Evil pure and simple by way of the Eighth Dimension!").

My favorite part of this movie is the scooby gang and their interactions with Buckaroo. When Buckaroo first addresses Penny/Peggy in the audience, one scooby member whispers to another, "That's weird." It's hilarious.

Because of course Buckaroo's whole life is weird. But the scooby-gang treats (almost) everything that happens to him as totally normal. Because of course it is to them--until it gets weird.

But that everyday, easy-going interaction is my favorite part of other movies, like in The Fugitive where Gerard (Tommy Lee Jones) and the scooby gang grouse to each other about boots and donuts. And Buckaroo Banzai is especially fun in this way because of the amazing cast.

The other movies on our 80's list have included stars. This movie is bang-full not just of stars but of actors who have worked steadily in the last 30 years or more. I mean, how cool does a film have to be that includes Vincent Schiavelli as well as Christopher Lloyd and Dan Hedaya? It is the awesomest collection of random, skilled, odd-ball actors ever. Kudos!!

The lack of a coherent pay-off does keep the film in cult territory rather than, like Princess Bride, in cult/classic film territory. Still, as an example of low-key banter--excluding the wild & amusing John Lithgow--and of letting jokes sit in a scene without calling attention to them (like Goldblum showing up in full cowboy regalia for apparently no relatable reason and being called Jersey), Buckaroo Banzai was far ahead of its time.

MIKE SAYS I'm not quite sure how to take this film.  At times it borders on farce, but the cast play the thing so straight and casual, that you start to take them seriously.  Which is kind of confusing when you have the main character doing and saying perhaps the most absurd things ever, and everyone around him is falling over themselves admiring him.

What adds to the confusion is the technology gap.  When Buckaroo pulls out a clunky homing device with a large blinking arrow on it, it is hard to know if I was supposed to laugh or be impressed.  The characters, the plot, the whole film is so over the top that it seems obvious that the entire film was a joke.

But with fairly serious stakes,  fairly straight acting, and some genuinly tense scenes, well, my poor brain just didn't know how to process it.  It occurs to me that I may be finally experiencing what most people feel when they first see Buffy.  It's a kind of ongoing struggle of "Wait, am I allowed to laugh?"

 As Kate mentions, the cast itself is fairly impressive, chock full of character actors and career actors that deliver a solid performance.  So much so, that if the film were remade, I would probably choose many of the same people to play the roles... they're that perfectly cast.

The movie ends up being perfect for this list, which is, really, a list of cult classics that only a few of us remember.  I had seen this film before, but it had been years... so many years in fact that I didn't remember most of it.  The odd thing is that the name Buckaroo Bonzia was a solid, recurrent meme in my life.  My mom would often call one of us kids Buckaroo when we were being weird... or adventurous.

In fact, it seems that most people are aware of the name, yet clueless to the movie.  The most impressive thing about this is that while Buckaroo is presented as an established character with a rich history, this film is the only thing he's ever really appeared in.

The film seems to be an attempt to create a unique Iconic American hero with a memorable supporting cast, much like James Bond or Doctor Who.  While the movie series didn't take off, the character seems to have made an impact.

Buckaroo endures as a cult icon, regardless of the original intentions. It is disappointing that he didn't continue.  Though, Buckaroo does personify the 80's hero:  Good at everything--music, science, fighting, and he gets woman.  That he gets off the occasional one-liner is just a bonus.  Watching him strut with his gang and a bow tie almost makes me wonder just how much of Matt Smith's Doctor may have been inspired by Buckaroo.... we'll see if that's a good thing.

The 80's Goes Stir Crazy: Adventures of Baron Munchausen

The Adventures of Baron Von Munchausen is, as Mike commented earlier, part of Terry Gilliam's "Imagination," "Dreamer," or "Flights of Fancy" Trilogy. It is based on, or inspired by, The Surprising Adventures of Baron Munchausen by Rudolf Erich Raspe. Baron Munchausen appears to have been a tall-tales hero--like Paul Bunyan or Alfred Bulltop Stormalong--long before his literary and film career.

For those of you who don't watch enough House, Munchausen is also a disorder--named after the good Baron's life--in which patients deliberately manufacture false symptoms of disease. These manufactured symptoms can extend to "skin infections or abscesses caused by injecting oneself with feces, sputum, or laboratory cultures of bacteria" (from Don R. Lipsitt's "The Munchausen Mystery").

MIKE SAYS this is easily the oddest film on the list.  Rewatching the film a couple years ago, I realized that some random, odd movie memories from my childhood were from this film.  Rewatching it again now, I'm not quite sure what I thought of this as a kid.  My mother assures me that I watched it dozens of times. The film, odd, quirky, and a little mixed up, definitely conforms with my personality.  Enough that I now find myself question my own sanity almost as much as I'm wondering about Gilliam's.

The utter strangeness of the film  permeates the entire experience. The characters, settings, storyline itself, even the costuming and makeup for the actors all have a hallucinatory quality, much like the shifting of a dream.  The Baron's aging, the shifting time frame, and the bouncing in and out of fantasy makes the film almost impossible to watch casually.  A viewing requires intense focus, and perhaps a notebook just to be safe.

At the same time, the visual imagination required to create such a film is utterly astounding. The visuals have a classic, animated quality that is strikingly different from anything modern.  The fact that this is all done without CGI just makes it all the more impressive. 

Watching the film, I kept thinking: Terry Gilliam is either INSANE.... or a GENIUS.  The terrifying truth is that this film may be evidence that both are correct, at the same time.

The film does make a solid argument about the power of myth and imagination versus reality.  Kate talks about this a little more below.  My fear for the film, though, is that the pure intensity of the film makes the very cool moral almost impossible to decipher for the average viewer.  In spite of this, I can't help but be blown away by the sheer scope of the film.

Although, I find myself a bit overwhelmed by the weirdness as well.  I find my brain divided into two camps....  one side is delving into the meaning and metaphors of the film, while the other, more rational half, is thinking "What the hell did I just watch?!?!?!"

KATE SAYS this film is a combination of the darker myths and fairy-tales mixed with classic tall-tale elements plus Monty-Python humor and scenery plus Les Miserables and . . . what the heck is Robin Williams doing in this film under another name?

It's just weird. Though still not as weird as Highlander (for one thing, Gilliam's vision is more consistent).

And it actually, surprisingly, is entirely appropriate to this list!

In our last review, Mike pondered:

I almost wonder if writers, film makers, and artists in general were afraid that their days were numbered, that the day would come when technology would replace imagination with realization. So many films in this period seem to focus on the consequences of power, I wonder if the artists were just afraid of losing the power that they already wielded.

The Adventures of Baron Von Munchhausen radically addresses this issue. With its steam-punk feel, the film grapples with science in the Age of Reason being used (ironically) to fight a war, and it addresses the possibility or threat that a scientific--rather than heroic--approach to adversity will literally and figuratively kills marvelous storytellers like Baron Munchausen.

The theme reminds me of the death of Pan which heralded the end of the age of Myth. Although I am well and truly relieved to live in the modern world, the loss of the fantastic and imaginative--islands still to explore, oceans still to swim, big scary monsters still to find, tall-tales easy to believe--is rather sad.

But hey, there's still space!

And, what do you know, Gilliam goes there too.

Sort of. It is definitely not Apollo 13 space. Or Star Trek space. Or any space I've ever encountered anywhere, not even in my most disturbing dreams (thank goodness).

In the article on Munchausen's quoted above, the author states, "But...the name is somewhat misleading. While stories of the Baron's escapades are always palpably absurd, the accounts of patients whose condition bears his name are generally quite feasible."

This is true but the lengths that Munchausen patients will go to (up to 400 hospital admissions; spitting up blood from concealed devices) gives one the same creepy, yet enthralled sensation as this movie: what?! WHAT?! So I think the name is entirely applicable. It isn't the doctors who make us think of Munchausen's; it's the bewildering phantasmagorical inner world of the patients.

This film inhabits the strange, fantastical, gaudy, and utterly baroque mind of the Baron. It eventually makes one passionately wish for the rescuing editorial voices of Rizzo the Rat and Gonzo:

Rizzo the Rat: Boy, that's scary stuff! Should we be worried about the kids in the audience?
Gonzo: Nah, it's all right. This is culture!

Gonzo: [whispering] You must remember [that the Marleys are dead], or nothing that follows will seem wondrous.
Rizzo the Rat: Why are you whispering?
Gonzo: It's for dramatic emphasis.