So let's get a couple things out of the way up front.

First, Heath Ledger's Joker is a thing of brilliance. Utterly mad, completely evil, frighteningly real. This is a performance that might have gotten oscar nods if he were still around; it will certainly get them now. He steals the film.

Second, I have a major Batman bias. I'm a huge superhero comic fan; I grew up on 'em, collected all the major Marvel and DC titles in the seventies and eighties. So I have very strong image about who batman is and how he should be portrayed. This makes it hard for me to be objective about reviewing any movie about batman, because they're never my batman.

That said, The Dark Knight manages to do just about as good a job as anyone has ever done with Batman on the screen. Yet, they fundamentally still miss the mark.

Bringing Batman to the screen is difficult. Partly because there's a lot of baggage (the sixties tv show skewed how we see batman to the corny and campy; Frank Miller's Batman skewed our view the other way, to the dark and hard and disturbing). Partly, it's difficult because our studios (and DC comics) have a singular idea of how a hero should be portrayed. I think every one of the modern Batman movies has suffered from this, and not one of them has yet ventured into new territory. They all reek of artistic compromise.

Add to this the fact that Batman, even for superheros, is particularly absurd. No super powers, a weirdly silly outfit, a reliance on impossible technology. It's hard to portray a guy in a bat suit with ears and not make him look silly, even if we don't include nipples and tights.

Dark Knight manages to get it mostly right. They strip the suit down til it looks like something you could actually fight in, they give us some plausible idea of how one man mages all these bizarre inventions, and (with back story from Batman Begins) they've given us a character with with enough of a crazy streak that the obsession and the bat images make sense.

They've also given us a very strong cast. Ledger is amazing; he will give you nightmares. I can see this man walking around in real life, he's that convincingly insane. Never before has the joker seemed so completely believable as a homicidal, sadistic lunatic. Aaron Eckhart, while not turning in the kind of absolutely inspired performance Ledger brings, is still terrific. This guy keeps getting better ever time I see him. And obviously, with actors like Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, and Morgan Freeman involved, the cast just keeps hitting (though Maggie Gyllenhaal's performance is oddly lackluster; I absolutely adore her, though I kept wanting to slap her and say *wake up!*).

The action scenes are all look great, the fights are well choreographed, the effects are mostly terrific.

So what's wrong with it?

That's a hard one; my bias about Batman aside, something's missing. But I'm struggling with what.

I wanted the the entire thing to have more zip. I wanted the dialog to sparkle. I wanted to care about the characters. While the dialog was ok, and there were some decent one liners, most of it has a journeyman feel, like it could have been from any action film. I wanted a breathless pace; there were too many pauses to build character, and then not enough to do for the actors when they had space to act. They were playing characters, and because they're all good, the characters seemed real. But it felt like padding.

The middle of the film is mainly driven by Bruce Wayne's soul-searching over having killed people; to me, this rang utterly false. The core of the character, to me, is that he'll do whatever the fuck it takes to bring down the bad guys, even be one himself. He will kill, he will break laws, he will sacrifice. What he won't do is stop. The beginning and end work; but when Wane starts to fuss about wanting to inspire people, it feels like they've forgotten who they're making a movie about (who is this, fucking Spiderman?)

The film was also oddly bright. One expects Batman films to be dark and shadowy. Gotham is a gothic nightmare of a city. What we got was downtown chicago, with no attempt whatsoever to make it look like anything else. I assume this was to give the film a sense of realism, but the effect was of lazy film making and average cinematography. Worse was that they chose to put Batman in full, harsh light in much of the film, which just makes the bat suit look silly. Batman needs a sense of menace to make him effective; a rubber rodent head doesn't do it. The less you show of Batman, the more effective he is.

This isn't to say I disliked the film; it's easily the best Batman to date. But the fact that it reaches higher in some ways, perhaps, points out the deficiencies. It's quite a good film; but it could have been a great film. It misses the mark on greatness. That's a shame, because Ledger's performance is truly great, and deserves to be in a movie that stands up to it.

Now, as to the batman I want to see, one only needs to look to Frank Miller'sDark Knight Returns to see my vision of Batman.

The Batman I want to see isn't a hero; and that's where Hollywood always fails. They want to portray a darkly heroic, misunderstood figure. They err in casting mornful, broody types (when they don't cast George Clooney, anyway). What they wind up getting is a batman who looks self-involved and sulky.

Batman, my version of Batman, is crazy. Something in him broke when his parents were killed, and he's spent his life on revenge; not on one person, but on everyone, everywhere, who commits a crime. He doesn't care about laws, honor, morals. The irony is that he's become who he's fighting. He's a killer, a sadist. Yet, he's an agent for good, doing what needs doing. He knows he's down in the mire with the criminals, he's sacrificed himself to what he thinks is greater good, though he's driven by an obsession with revenge.

His alter ego isn't a light-hearted playboy; he's a dark, brooding recluse. More Howard Hughes than Tony Stark.

I want to see someone cast who can play batman as a semi-psychotic villain. Imagine Alan Rickman; imagine if Heath Ledger could have turned that air of craziness into a batman portrayal. Bale could have done it (he does crazy so well). But the part needs a villain at it's heart, not a hero. Batman isn't a hero; he's a bad guy who's on our side, and THAT is what every single movie portrayal misses.

My complaints about The Dark Knight are colored this, to be sure. But my real issues with it are not that it isn't my batman; it's that they so nearly turned out a great film. They missed by *that* much, and that's frustrating, because they almost had it.

I was going to write a detailed review but fuck it.

Iron Man rocks. Go see it while it's still in theaters. It is, in my opinion, the best superhero movie of the modern era. I loved it.

Iron Man was my favorite superhero comic, and the movie completely did justice to the character. I even loved Gwyneth Paltrow in the part, and that takes some doing.

Go see it twice.

A couple of years ago I watched the original Indiana Jones trilogy with my kids. Over the last month, we've been watching the re-released Young Indiana Jones series. We're huge Indiana Jones fans.

Now, let me say a couple things up front.

Raiders of the Lost Ark is very close to my favorite movie of all time. However, as a rule, I loath Steven Spielberg. I do not consider him a good director. To be sure, he's made a couple of decent movies; Duel (his creative high water mark), Jaws, and of course, Raiders. But given that he hires top-flight cinematographers and cast, every now and then he's going to hit something good. Most of his work is dreck though, badly plotted, badly scored, badly paced, over-done in every way possible.

How did Raiders wind up so good? Simple; George Lucas.

Lucas developed the story, produced the film, and while there's no question Spielberg directed it, it has an un-mistablabe Lucas feel to it. Most of what's right about that film I credit to Lucas.

It's easy to see what happens when Lucas steps back; look at Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Key details of who Indy is are forgotten, a pointless 'cute kid' is introduced, Spielberg's wife is (ill) cast as indy's love interest, comedy and horror elements are over-played. The only thing about the movie that works is the ending, and it works out of context with an Indiana Jones movie.

For the third, Lucas stepped back in; Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is back to feeling like Indiana Jones. It's better cast, with a love interest who works, and the plot is back to being centered on archeology. It's not quite Raiders, but it's terrific.

And then there's Young Indy; not only a brilliant teevee series, but incredibly true to the the Indiana Jones character; masterfully done, and 100% Lucas.

When I heard a fourth movie was in production, finally, I hoped for Lucas, and feared Spielberg.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull should be good. They had years to find a great script; they had a great cast (Cate Blanchett, John Hurt), a great surrogate Young Indy (Shia LaBeouf), and the return of Karen Allen, an actress I've had a wicked crush on since Animal House.

Alas - This is Spielberg Indy, not Lucas Indy.

There's good stuff about this film, certainly. And I enjoyed it. But it wasn't good. While it's failings are very different than the failings of Temple of Doom, they're perhaps bigger, because with the years they had to come up with a script, though should have come up with a good one. This has compromise written all over it. The story's oddly meandering and all but incoherent, and it relies on super-natural and sci-fi elements that don't fit into the Indy mythos. While the action scenes are terrific (well shot, well acted, funny and thrilling, and completely inventive), they seem to have lost the '30s serial pacing that made them work in the past. The problem, though, is that when the action stops, you can almost see tumbleweeds roll across the screen. Everything comes to a complete halt.

I've never been bored in an Indiana Jones movie before. Yet whenever the characters start talking, my eyes would glaze over. Harrison Ford seemed to be sleep walking through half the scenes, and the elements that worked (he's older and not quite as good as he used to be; people think he's just an old teacher, til the fedora comes out) are used as throw-away gags. This could have been payed like Robin and Marian, with the re-union of the aging hero and his older-but-still-beautiful life's love. It's wasted though, with Karen Allen not getting enough screen time.

Blanchett as the russian villain is wasted as well; she's a cartoon, but an under-drawn one. Her absurd accent is wonderful, even if it's un-even, but they waste the camp element after presenting it when she walks on.

What works is that they pay brilliant tribute to Indy myth; references to the first three movies, and better, to episodes of Young Indy. What doesn't is that Spielberg can't stop; introducing LaBeouf with a shot and costume from The Wild Ones blows one right out of the film, and the 50's diner fight is so out of place that it made me want to slap everyone involved.

The ending is idiotic. We don't need fucking space aliens in the Indiana Jones mythos. Visually, the end is great, but plot wise, it's weak, stupid, and badly written.

It's odd though; the movie annoyed me more later than it did at the time. While I was watching it, I was happy. Seeing Indy on screen again was thrilling, even if it's a gray-haired-and-botoxed indy; and the action is fantastic. If this were a movie featuring some other character than Indiana Jones, I've have said "loved it", because it's the kind of sugar-frosted-crack film that one should watch with the un-jaundiced eye of a teenager. But when a movie has "Indiana Jones" in the title, I just expect a lot more in terms of movie making.

I've been in one of those frustrating phases of late where I feel the need to write but the combination of absolutely no time, and no mental energy, leave me struggling to make the arc from thought to action. When I've had time to myself - as I have several evenings lately, with family away on minor summertime jaunts - I wind up spending the remaining energy on stupid-yet-imporatant activities like the paying of bills (dammit, why can't I just do this every second or third months? I'm happier that way!), and the doing of taxes (yeah, I just finally got around to that; it's a long story why but this is the first time, ever, that I've been late with my taxes).

When I do sit down with the intent to work on a story I'm writing, I get no further than adding a bit more to an outline or writing a sentence or two. When I try to work on some of the half-dozen blog entries I have barely started, I find my eyes glaze over.

Yes, I know, you've all heard this before. No helpful suggestions, m'kay?

In any case, I have managed to see quite a number of movies lately. So let's do some quick summaries.

Cartoons:

Shrek III - skip it. Not funny. The best of the film's in the preview. The animation's great, but that's part of the problem; shrek is real enough to actually look like a giant stinky ogre, which just makes him creepy. There are a few good gags, but it doesn't work.

Surf's Up - here's a surprise winner. I expected, when I saw the previews, for Happy Feet to be the winner and this film, he loser. That's backwards. Happy Feet looked great, but was vastly too long, had little or no story, and though some of it was brilliant, it wound up being very dull. This film, though, was shockingly clever. SHot as a mockumentary, it manages to work perfectly, poking fun at reality teevee, sports films, and cartoons. It's vastly funnier and better than I expected it to be.

Ratatouille - ok, this should be great; it's pixar, it's Brad Bird; it's about cute rats and cooking, and Thomas Keller, possibly america's greatest chef these days (certainly one if the best) was a consultant. But with that much buzz, you have to fear. The good news is, it's that good. Well written, stunningly well animated, great voice acting all around, it's not just a good cartoon, it's a really good film. This is one of those that needs to get nominated for something higher than just best cartoon; it won't be the cartoon that wins best picture, but it certainly should be one that gets nominated. Forget your fear of rats; this is just a good film.

Live Action:

Knocked Up - made by the 40 year old virgin guys, this film works the same territory. But I think it's better. Despite being about some incredibly crude, juvenile characters, it's a heart-warming sort of story. The moment when Ben (Seth Rogen, whom I think I'd have a crush on if I swung that way) wakes up to realize he's just slept with the hottest girl he's ever met; well, let's just say, most of us can imagine (or have experienced) that moment. I liked this movie a whole lot more than I expected to; everyone in it was exactly someone I know. My only real issue with the film was that I found Leslie Mann's character (Debbie) so utterly dislikable that I found it distrating. I don't think the director was aware how hateful she was; I think he thought she was funny and dysfunctional. She was so familiar to me (I know her exactly, in real life) that I felt my hands twitch with the desire to choke her every time she was on screen.

Live Free or Die Hard - I think this movie has a terrible title but that's the only thing about it I don't love. The rest of the series is, you know, ok; this film rocks. It's cleverly plotted, well written, has amazing stunts; the cast is fantastic, and Bruce Willis as John McClane has now taken Jack Bauer's place as the butchest action hero around. This movie is everything 24 aims for but often misses. I'd happily see this movie two or three times through; it's an absolutely classic action film. Also, I have to say, The "I'm a mac" guy, Justin Long, is absolutely great in this film. All the teenage girls I know who have wicked crushes on him from the commercials are gonna fuckin' swoon when they see this. I'm not kiddin', they'll swoon.

That's how it's been. Work, movies, sleep, and mythbusters. But that is another post.

I bought the DVD of Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii (The Director's Cut) a year or so ago, but it managed to get filed away in a stack of kids DVDs and I'd forgotten I had it.

I was looking through my DVDs last night, trying to find something better to watch than re-runs of house that I'd already seen, and I found said DVD. Given that I was hopped up on goofballs for the throbbing pain behind my cheekbone (I admit it, it was an excuse. My tolerance for meds is so high that they don't make it not hurt, they just make me not mind the hurt), I decided it was a perfect film to watch.

A little background. I saw this movie when I was about fourteen, at a midnight movie (remember midnight movies?) in Los Gatos, California. These were the days when midnight movies and rock concerts were a dope-smoker's free for all, so no one cared if we lit up. People used to bring five foot tall bongs to these things. So it was a very stoned, very tripped out crowd. We'd either find an older brother who could drive, or we'd call the parents (mine, usually) who didn't mind us being stoned.

I've come to the conclusion that Maggie Gyllenhaal may be the sexiest woman on the planet (well, apart from a couple of my readers, though I'm not naming names. Just assume it's you).

Now, I sort of had this feeling after seeing Secretary, as I've discussed at length with the lovely Miss Syl. I mean, it's a great film, and she's impossibly sexy in it (I could watch some of those scenes of her getting spanked over and over, and in fact have, in my head at least). But the whole film's brilliantly sexy, with that pervasive feeling that makes one want to go home and grab someone (or oneself) and have many orgasms.

But y'know, one film, you can't always judge. I mean, Melanie Griffith was a contender (who am I kidding, she owned it), for like six months after Something Wild came out, But by the time she'd made Working Girl that was well over and it proved that sexy as fuck in one film doesn't mean much when the film's over (and don't get me started on Ms. Griffith now - *shudder*).

So the other day I watched Stranger Than Fiction. And that cemented Maggie's place on that 'sexiest women' list.

Now, that may be a strange movie to do that. It's not a particularly sexy movie. It's a very good movie - with a surprisingly good dramatic performance by Will Ferrell (and you know, I think he can do still better), a great performance by Emma Thompson, and an incredibly clever script. But even with a vaguely romantic element, there's no sex to speak of. This could not be more opposite Secretary, which radiated sex.

But from the moment she turned up on screen, sweaty, frazzled, angry and tattooed, I wanted her. I didn't even remember she was in the movie, so my reaction went something like wow, she's kinda hot - whoa is that Maggie Gyllenhaal?

The thing that makes her so damned sexy in this movie is that they in no way set out to make her sexy. They just presented a character, as they did with other characters in the film. She's a vaguely eccentric, vaguely emo sort of craftsperson; educated, but working in a simple, honest profession as a baker. But being that kind of character, she wants to make a grand, if silly, political statement (silly in that she can't win, not silly in intent, who doesn't agree with the idea of withholding taxes that go to pay for idiotic wars? Well, idiots, I guess.) She reminded me of a number of people I know; artists, writers (and some bloggers I know.) And she was the kind of character I like to write about. She has that I just am who I am kind of sexy.

And then there's the tattoos.

I have to say, Maggie's tattoos in Stranger Than Fiction are some of the best fake tattoos I've seen in a movie in a long time. The typical mistake is to make them too perfect, too bright, too dark. They're almost always over-done, and usually, not done with the right sort of aesthetic. They may look real to the typical viewer, but to those of us who have and know tattoos, most movie tattoos look a bit suspect. The Tattoos in this movie look exactly right; the japanese half-sleeve on her right arm has exactly the look and feel of a tattoo this character would have, and it's done the way it really would be, not quite wrapping all the way around in back, leaving the area around the armpit bare. It was so convincing I actually wondered it it was real.

The one that really got me though - and damn if i can find a picture of it - was the star on her neck. Now, again, the temptation would have been to give her some big, splashy, obvious thing, and to have made it perfect. But that's not what this character would have had. The tattoo, a black star on the right side of her neck, an inch or two below her ear, was sort of ordinary. It was small - maybe the size of a nickel - and best of all, it was sort of crooked. It was that, more than anything, that made me fall for the character, and by extension, for the performer. Because she looked like, was, the sort of character who'd have a weird, imperfect tattoo on her neck.

I spent the whole movie wanting to kiss and bite this little star tattoo. It was absolutely distracting when I could see it, and when I couldn't, I kept wanting her to turn around so I could see it. And while I loved the movie (it's incredibly clever and well written), I spent the next two days with a naked, tattooed Maggie Gyllenhaal in my head.

I think I need to go find every other movie she's ever been in, particularly the ones where she's naked. Mmmm. Naaaaaked....

Skin Stories, a brilliant film by Emiko Omori and Lisa Altieri-Sosa, is finally available on DVD. This is a video I've talked about before, an in-depth exploration of tattooing in the south pacific, with a particular focus on tattooing in New Zealand's Maori culture. It's the best film i've ever seen on tattooing, largely because it eschews the usual focus on the outrageous ('look at these crazy people who tattoo their faces!') and simply tells the story in the voices of people who wear tattoos.

I've been waiting for this to come out on DVD for two years; both because I wanted to own it, and because there's an image in it that I need to take to my tattooist so we can begin work on my backpiece.

It's a bit on the pricey side; it's coming from hawaii, and it's not something that's going to sell thousands of units, so I forgive them. But for those who've been waiting to get hold of this (that may be only me), it's about damned time.

I just saw the new Nightmare Before Christmas in 3D.

And lemmee tellya, this ain't your mamma's 3D. 3D movies have come a LONG way in the past few years, as you'll know if you saw Monster House in it's 3D version, or if you've seen the latest 3D attractions at Disneyland or Universal or other theme parks.

Now, i'm already a huge fan of this movie. So they only have to not fuck it up to be ok with me. Just a chance to see it on the big screen was cool, i listened to the people who didn't like it when it came out and didn't go see it in a theater. Luckily I later discovered they were wrong.

Well, they didn't fuck it up; they made it even cooler. The 3D is a perfect compliment to the very physical stop-motion animation, adding even more depth and life to a visually rich and complex movie. They also totally re-mastered the sound, which is awesome. I saw, and heard, things I'd never noticed before.

You know 3D has made it when you stop noticing a film is in 3D. And like in Monster house, which i saw at Mann's Chinese in los angeles a couple months ago, halfway through I stopped being aware of the glasses and the effect, and just watched the movie, marveling at how cool it looked but not thinking about it. That is when 3D is working, and in this film, it utterly does work.

Originally I'd heard this was going to be in very limited release, only playing in L.A., SF, and a couple other cities. But it looks like it's gone into national release, so go see it while it's still in the theaters. I bet it doesn't play for long, and if you're a fan, this is so completely a must-see.

Oh, and cute goth/emo girls love this movie, so there's another sort of eye-candy involved. I wound up deep in conversation with a girl next to me about Lemony Snicket and Daniel Handler's adult novels (which feature murder, absinth, incest, golems, and more clever literary references than you can shake a stick at.) So that's the kinda quality people this attracts, if, you know, you like that sort of thing.

Elizabeth Swann: There will come a moment when you have the chance to do the right thing.
Jack Sparrow: I love those moments. I like to wave at them as they pass by.

I asked a friend who'd seen a pre-release screening of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest how it was.

"Slimy," she said.

And so it is. Very very slimy.

I'm not gonna post a whole review right now - actually I might go see it again before I do that. But the short version.

Nowhere near as good as the first (as one would expect). But better than I'd expected.

It's too long, for a film that's really thin on plot. But it retains the charm of the original, has some amazing, stunning design, some excellent CGI and makeup effects, and it still has the cast of Depp, Bloom and Knightley, all of who are stunningly sexy. Knightley just gets hotter and hotter; she's going to start burning movie screens if this continues.

This ain't a movie that's gonna win - or really deserve - oscars, other than for technical merit. But it's highly entertaining, and will trand for several watchings, even if it doesn't joint the first on the heavy-rotation shelf.

I'm ready to set sail - even more than usual.

This is a really dumb quiz. But I happened to find it while I was looking up something about Sin City.

I came up Marv, but I also scored high as Dwight, and as Manute, and, somehow, as That Yellow Bastard. The fact that I'd like to whip jessica alba may have caused that last score to go up.

What Sin City Character are You?
created with QuizFarm.com

But forget the quiz. You tell Me.
Which Sin City character am I?

I was talking about the brilliant Sin City with a friend, and about the types of heros I am forever drawn to.

I was always a huge fan of heros when I was a kid; superheros, sword-wielding barbarians. Brave space captains. I was batman and captain kirk and rocket robin hood and flash gordon, wolverine and aragorn and tarzan of the apes, john carter of mars and dray prescott, lucky starr and conan and shang-shi.

Yet, also, I loved the anti-heros best. The rogues. One of the reasons batman and wolverine and robin hood spoke to me was that they were bad guys on the side of good; robbers and vigilantes and killers, yet, with a moral code.

And then there's the tragic, pointless quest. Bilbo and Sam facing the gates of mordor, knowing their mission isn't really to destroy the ring, for that cannot happen against these odds. Their quest is to die trying. All is hopeless, yet I give up not my hope, I will fight and die for my quest. I will die - but I will not give up.

These things speak to me, and that's one of the reasons I so love both Miller's original Sin City, and Rodriguez' brilliant film version. Because those are the characters who populate this world. Violent, angry, driven men, men who are damaged in one way or another. Men who feel doom weigh upon them, who know they're dead, and strive only to complete the mission before it's all over.

Miller's heros court doom. They love, and desire, and protect. They kill brutally and without remorse, yet they stand between absolute disaster and who or whatever they choose to protect.

These men live short lives in an angry, violent, beautiful world. These are the characters I see in my head; these are the people I feel driven to write. Speaking to said friend, she knew, as only one other friend know, how I felt watching sin city.

To paraphrase, "When you saw this film for the first time, you must have felt as though someone had taken your brain and soul and put then on the screen.". And so I did; this is what I want to write I said, when I was watching the first scene, the assassin and the beautiful woman in the rain.

This is who lives in my head, I thought, when Marv said:

'She smells like angels ought to smell, the perfect woman... the Goddess',

Aand I thought it when Dwight said:

'My warrior woman. My Valkyrie. You'll always be mine, always and never. Never. The Fire, baby. It'll burn us both. It'll kill us both. there's no place in this world for our kind of fire. Always and never. If I have to die for you tonight, I will.'

These people speak the way I feel.

This is how I want to be described, I thought, when Dwight says of Marv, 'He just had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield swinging an axe into somebody's face. Or in a Roman arena, taking his sword to other gladiators like him. They woulda tossed him girls like Nancy back then. '

Doom. Tragedy. Violence. Love and lust and desire. These characters are stripped down to the raw essence of these things; they will burn out brightly, tragically, and they will take you with them if you stand in the way. But they will save you if you need saving, no matter what the cost.

These are the people who live in my head; and I envy Frank Miller more than I can say, for he too carries these people in his head, but he has a way to let them out.

As yet, I do not. Not in action, not in word. I cannot be them, and i cannot write them. Not yet.

Not yet.

Ok, there's a scene in a movie - and this is stuck in my head like an earworm, like a song frag you can't get rid of and can't identify, the way Soho's Hippychick used to stick with no song name or band name or other useful lyrics, just 'no hip, hip, hip, no hippychick'.

Someone out there has to know what movie this is.

Here's the scene. This is like a modern-day crime kinda movie, not sci-fi or anything. Some psycho - and I'm thinking Malkovich , Spacey, someone like that - has some woman held captive. He's, I dunno, threatening her, torturing her, something. He's got her tied up.

But she's angry and defiant. She spits in his face.

And he looks at her with these freaky dead cold eyes, wipes the spit off his face with his hand, and licks it off his hand.

The image stuck. But there's no damned context. Who the hell is this? What movie is this?

It rattles around in my head, like 'Perth Amboy' in Thurber's head in More Alarms at Night. Help me out here before ‘Threaten to get Buck’.

Yesterday, on very short notice my boss decided to take my whole team out. I guess we're at quarter end and he had budget for something that went away next week.

The result was the sort of day that works out perfectly with no planning whatsoever.

One of my co-workers is from Ethiopia, and he's introduced us to what may be the best Ethiopian restaurant in the bay area; it's certainly the best one I've ever been to and I'm a huge fan of that cuisine

http://www.zenirestaurant.com/

An absolutely wonderful meal. For those who don't know, Ethiopian food consists mostly of stew-like dishes; it's both served on, and eaten with, a unique soft, spongy flatbread called Injera which has a flavor (faintly like sourdough) and texture unlike anything else I've ever eaten.

You don't get plates. You don't get forks. You get a platter covered with Injera, with the various meat, veggie and salad dished dolloped directly on the Injera. You then tear strips of the bread and use it as your utensils.

In flavor, it's akin to Morroccan, with certain dishes having an almost indian character; red pepper, cumin, cardamom, gigner, and coriander are prominent spices.

It's a cuisine for people who are not afraid to get elbow-deep in a meal. It's also a cuisine I tend to avoid eating too often because, once started, I tend to eat until ready to absolutely explode. It's a sensual experience, rich, spicy, aromatic buttery flavors, and food experienced by touch as well as taste, smell, and vision. I can imagine taking a date (not, however, a first date) to such a meal, and feeding each other morsels of exotic-spiced meat while sharing a flask of Tej, Ethiopian mead.

It could be an awkward meal with co-workers. Luckily, my team are a bunch who like to eat, and who know each other well enough that we're not afraid to wear some food in from of each other.

After the meal, Bossman treated us to a quickly-chosen movie (based on when it was playing more than anything else); luckily also my first choice of a movie.

V for Vendetta.

Now let's say up front, I'm a huge Alan Moore fan. No disrespect to Gaiman or Frank Miller, but to my mind, Moore is the inventor of what we today called the graphic novel. He's the man who took a lame muck-monster comic, Swamp Thing, and turned it into possibly the best comic ever published. He's the guy who re-invented both comics in general and the superhero genre with Watchmen. And he's the man who wrote a bold, frightening, bizarre comic about a terrorist who dresses as Guy Fawkes.

I read V for Vendetta when it was new - I don't think I ever finished it, I can't recall why. Maybe it was one of those times when I gave up comics like one gives up smack; I have a problem with just buying one, so from time to time I have to go cold-turkey. But whatever it was, I've been waiting for someone to do something with that comic ever since.

Typically, when I heard it was going to be a movie, I was both afraid and excited. I hate, hate a holywood ruing of something important. *cough*Ask the Dust*Cough. But some things just cry out to be done right, and given the guys in charge (the Matrix brothers, Andrew and Larry Wachowski), and given the source material, I was hoping, just maybe, they nailed it.

Ok, so Alan Moore disowned it. But he's Alan Moore. Look at him, you can see the guy's a couple inmates short of an asylum. I haven't found the details on what he objected to, but in the end, you gotta look at the movie, like Kubrick's The Shining and say, forget the book, did they make a good movie?

They did. And fuckin' how.

This isn't an easy movie to make. To start you have a plot that depends on some idea of who the fuck Guy Fawkes is any why The Fifth of November is important. Not an easy sell in the USA. Then you have a lead who never takes off his mask.

It works; part of it's due to the incredibly charismatic, sexy presence of Natalie Portman, with whom I've been in love since I spent all of Phantom Menace thinking about her mouth. She turns in what is certainly the performance of her career thus far (though I'm betting she's go lots of brilliant performances ahead of her). A girl who manages to look that intensely sexy while sobbing on a prison floor is someone I could watch all damned day.

It works despite the dead plastic face Hugo Weaving wears all the way through it; he does a great job in what's almost completely a voice gig. He resists the temptation too over-do the physical performance, to over-do the voice. He's a man in a mask, but he just plays it, and by the end of the movie when he's asked to take off the mask and doesn't, you're rooting for him not to. You don't want to see what's under it, you want him to be what he is, an enigmatic presence with no face and no name.

James McTeigue, who was an assistant director for some or all of the Matrix films, avoids the major pitfalls of so many sci fi epics; he doesn't try to make things look far away and futuristic. He doesn't overwhelm us with special effects or elaborate makeup or bizarre technology. This movie doesn't play as sci-fi, it could be any time, now, the late 90's (the date in Moore's original comic), or it could be 2020. He lets the characters and ideas run the story, not the special effects.

This is a story about ideas. It's easy to simply say it's a movie about today's american government, and to be sure, you can't escape that idea. This is where we're headed if our current regime is taken to it's ultimate conclusion. The hitler-like figure played so effectively by John Hurt is scary because you can hear echos of today's politics.

But it's not as direct and simple as that. Moore's story is about anarchy vs. fascism, not about republicans vs democrats. It's about the extremes in both directions. It's about fighting a fight that will kill you and drive you mad.

It's about terrorism; but we're seeing it from the side of the terrorist, the man who fights an ideological battle with bombs and murder. It's about a monster fighting a monster system. There's no clear high moral ground he stands on; the enemies are evil, but are they any worse than our hero?

There are flaws. It's a comic-book style story, so some of the plot logic doesn't hold up to intense scrutiny. V's hair, which made sense in the comic, winds up being dorky rather than threatening in real life. I kept thinking bad wig. And some of the plot developments late in the movie seem to happen to abruptly without adequate explanation (I'd explain but no spoilers).

But the quibbles are small. The movie looks great, it's well cast, well acted, well paced for such a long movie (2.5 hours). The dialog is well written (I will have to get the graphic novel, I can't recall how much of this was direct from the comic and how much was written by Wachowskis). It works well as pure escapist, and as political commentary. And it's got some choice dialog I'll be quoting until you all get sick of it.

And oh my god is Natalie Portman hot with her head shaved. Holy christ. I want her.

The final conclusion - up front, newspaper style: When it comes to Batman on film, there's no pleasing me.

I finally got around to watching Batman Begins, after hearing over and over, from everyone from Olivia to the video store clerk what a great film it is.

I can't say it sucked. I really didn't suck. But it sure didn't rule either.

I'm not gonna write a whole long detailed review of King Kong. Go read yahoo movies or someplace like that for your recaps, though you can ignore the one from the SF Chron, Mick LaSalle obviously spent three hours with his head up his ass, not actually watching the movie.

But in a word - it's fantastic.

Ok, so I loved Goblet of Fire.

However, I loved it in a Shining way.

Because they butchered the book. They left out most of it; key characters, key plot lines, key developments. They whipped past things like the Quiddich World Cup and the Pensieve so quickly as to make them fairly irrelevant. They cast Rita Skeeter brilliantly and then did nothing at all with her, leaving out the entire reason she was in the book.

There were casting issues as well. Fleur Delacour should be impossibly, breathtakingly pretty. The actress who played her, despite the adorable name of Clémence Poésy, is just sort of average looking. Cedric Diggory was also an average-looking boy. Ginny Weasley, also needs re-casting; it's obvious in Half Blood Prince how important she is, and we need more than an average looking girl with mousy-brown hair to play her. How can anyone even notice her next to Emma Watson, she's growing up into quite a little heartbreaker?

But you know, it all seemed not to matter much when I was watching it. The film looked so fucking good, and the action was so well done and so well paced, that I was almost gasping for breath the entire time. This is certainly the best any of these films has looked, and has the best effects.

Basically, what Newell (the director) seemed to have done is said, forget trying to pack the whole book in, let's just make a movie that's cool and fun to watch. And he nailed it, without question.

Yet the problem with this is that Rowling's books are so dense, so complicated, so rich in characters, names, history, mystery, and magic. You can't just strip them down and keep what makes them so brilliant. It's not just about a few kids in a school, it's about events and people who shape the entire magical world. This is an entire culture, almost a universe that she's developed.

So while I was loving the movie while I watched it, the more I think on it, the more it bothers me. While certain characters were given plenty of screen time, or made fantastic use of the time they had (Fred and George - god, I love these guys), where the hell was Mrs. Weasley? Where was Charlie, the rock star of the family? Where was Siruis Black (Sure, in the fire, but dammit, he should have more than two minutes screen time!).

I think it was a huge mistake to try to make one movie. They original plan was to split it into a pair; there was enough material for five or six hours of film, certainly, and with editing, you could have had two very good hours of movie. For some reason, though, Newell chose to make one instead. I've never heard what his reasoning was, but I have a hard time buying that it was a good idea.

This book, in many ways, is the hinge-point of the series. It's where things turn serious; it's where they go from being kids to being young adults. It's where the romantic relationships are born, and it's where we see the forces of evil begin to gain ground. So much of the next two books is set up in this one that you really need the side-plots, in many ways.

I walked out of the theater thinking this was the best movie of the four so far. And in terms of just making a movie I think it is. Yet, for all that I think it's ok to make a great movie by not doing the book right (look at Jaws or The Shining), this is one case where you can't just make a movie. You're making an installment of a series, and you're bringing to life a great mythos. You have to do more than make a movie, you have to maintain that mythos. I am not sure Mike Newell did that.

But what the hell. It's damned fun to watch. And I'll see it again. It is a good movie, if we don't pay too much attention to what's missing.

Warnings for detail geeks.

If you're like me and went through Prisoner of Azkaban saying Wait, that's not right, get ready to do it a lot more in Goblet of Fire. Here's your handy checklist:

Goblet of Fire Book/Movie differences

I'm hoping it's a Shining thing where it might be wrong, but it's good. That wasn't the case in Prisoner of Azkaban, but I'm hearing this is a better film, despite the hack-n-slash on the plot. Goblet isn't that good a book (WAY too long and with too many plot holes), so it's got a lot of room for trimming, much more so than Prisoner of Azkaban.

I'm off to see it tomorrow, we'll see.

Quick summary review - A History of Violence is a spectacular film.

Without any major spoilers, the story is of a normal guy named Tom - almost too normal - played by Viggo Mortensen. He's got great kids, runs a little coffee shop, has a hot, loving wife, played by Maria Bello.

All is well - we see him parenting his kids, we see him happy in his job. We also get an incredibly hot sex scene, where we see Maria Bello put on a cheerleader costume, flash her panties, and then get to see the only 69 I can recall ever seeing in a big hollywood movie. It's a natural and absolutely real moment.

And let me say how fucking hot I think Maria Bello is. Rrrrrrrrowr.

Here's one for my XXX-mas wish list:

Pirates!

(actually I'm not a big fan of glossy production porn, I'm more the dirty-debutants type, but still, pirates...)

Props to Nymph at ErosBlog for that one. Give us a kiss, Nymph!

Go see overCompensating about those muthafuckin' snakes.

And there ain't a got-damn thing you can do about it!

(Props to Larry B)

I just don't quite understand it.

But evidently someone found this idea so scary, they made a movie of it.

I can just hear the pitch -

"There are these snakes, and they're on a plane, and that's really really scary..."

"Why is it scary?"

"Well, they're snakes, right? And they're on this plane..."

"And this is scary because?"

"They're - angry."

"Why?"

"Because... They're... Um. On a plane?"

"Snakes don't like planes?"

"Theses don't"

"Ok..."

"It's got Samuel L Jackson in it!"

"Green Light."

I give you Snakes on a Plane. That's right, Snakes on a Plane.

(props to SmartyPants for hippin' me to all this)

Ok, I admit it. I've never seen Lost in Translation. At least until now.

And since everyone in the world has already seen it, I'm not gonna add a lot to the public dialog. But just lemmee say this;

Wow.

Let's just say, I know these characters, and I love this film. The list of things to love is long, and I'm not gonna bore you with it, but seeing Charlotte through Bob's eyes - yeah. I get it.

And of course, I could spend a week just looking at Scarlett Johansson.

Sigh.

So we now have conclusive proof.

23 is right. 85 is right out.

That's the account for how much Wallace and Grommit is right.

Now, let's state up front. I love Wallace and Grommit. I think Grand Day Out is simply one of the best animations ever made. I love all the W & G shorts. I think Nick Park's a brilliant animator.

But you know, some things are meant to be a certain length. Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit is all the proof we need of this.

Ok. There's lots to like. I mean, it's W & G. Grommit manages to say more with an eye-roll than most real people can say with a monolog. The animation's great, Nick Park's touch with sound - which is what makes Grand Day Out so brilliant - is still evident. The visual humor is inventive.

But I just don't want to look at Wallace's teeth for eighty-five minutes. I don't want to look at Lady Campanula Tottington's clown-gumby mouth for eighty-five minutes. Even Grommit, the heart and soul of Wallace and Grommit doesn't keep me completely entertained for eighty-five minutes.

I dunno. Maybe I needed to be really really stoned, or to be under twelve. That might have helped. Certainly the people sitting next to me were giggling a lot harder than I was; so it worked for them.

Also, maybe a none-story-high screen isn't that forgiving for claymation. On my teevee, it seems brilliantly lifelike, even while clearly cartoonish. Here, it's just a clay face of nightmarish proportions.

But no. That's not it. Because the good parts - the action scenes, and some of the jokes, and there are lots and lots of jokes - work very well. I think it simply comes down to length. What works in a tight thirty minutes, as with The Wrong Trousers and it's brilliant train-chase - can't carry an hour and a half.

And you know, maybe it was made worse by following a simply brilliant short featuring the Madagascar penguins (the only thing about Madagascar that was memorable) titled A Christmas Cape; I don't recall laughing this hard at a cartoon in a long time. That certainly didn't help.

Whatever the cause, though, I think it's safe to say "wait for the DVD".

Go.
See.
MirrorMask.

Now.

Two words sum this thing up. "Wow", and "Acid Trip".

Wait that's three words. But nevermind.

I sat, partway through this movie, and thought, I'm watching an acid trip with my eleven-year-old daughter. And the sad thing is, I can't explain to her how cool that is, not yet anyway.

What makes up for this is that she got the movie. And I don't know any other kid her age who would. She can't think of a single one of her friends who'll get it, and she has geeky friends. She lists Coraline as her all-time favorite book; she worships Wolves in the Walls and loves The day I swapped my dad for two goldfish. She can't wait to read American Gods and wanted to know all about Anansi Boys, which is on my bedside now.

She gets Gaiman. She gets Dave McKean's art. She gets the crazed multi-media world he lives in.

She understands, without my having to tell her anything, what the inside-out dreamworld of MirrorMask was all about.

We walked out of the movie both saying wow together; geek rapture, but also art rapture. Because while MirrorMask is a movie, what it really is, is three-dimensional, moving art. like few movies I've ever seen, this film is complete, pure art.

It's hard to describe. The closest you cam come in spirit is to say it's like Yellow Submarine. But it looks nothing like Yellow Submarine. What it looks like, feels like, is walking into Dave McKean's mind and wandering around, a place where schools of fish swim through the sky, where you need a net to catch books, where stone giants float in the sky and old ladies keep sphinxes as pets. I guess one part Yellow Submarine, one part Cabinet of Doctor Caligari; with a side of Pee-Wee's Playhouse and a pinch of Tim Burton.

And no, that really doesn't capture it.

What's it about? Hell, it doesn't matter, at all.

Just go see it.

And let me add, I'm in love with Stephanie Leonidas, who looks like she's about fifteen in this movie, but is evidently old enough that I can buy her a drink if I ever run into her into a hotel bar.

I wanna do drugs with these guys, I tell ya.

Serenity premiers tonight.

Greggg has the advantage over most of the rest of us; he's already seen it.

For the rest of us - god, high hopes, fears, and I know whatever I see, I'll be left waiting for more. Joss, you better be hard at work on Serenity II already.

Ok, maybe I'll do a detailed review of this tomorrow. Or maybe I need to see it again to form a full opinion, sometimes Burton's like that. I needed to see Nightmare three times before I really got into it.

But the quick impression; aesthetically stunning, truly, completely stunning. Technically brilliant. I've never seen animation any better.

Yet, there are some significant weaknesses. The script is ok, but not great. There are some really bad jokes, worthy of a low-grade disney movie, but not worthy of a movie this well done. The music is somewhat uninspired, though of course typically well done.

So my impression overall - wow, mostly, but with a lingering feeling that it should have been better. A movie this intensely beautiful should be a great film, but it just missed being great.

More thoughts as they form, there's no question it's a film to think about. And maybe go see again right away.

It was a two movie day yesterday.

Ok. Last week I bulldozed through the entire season of Firefly all in a marathon viewing session.

I've re-watched a couple episodes since with the director's commentary on.

So here's my summary.

Thanks to Brett, I found that Flesh Gordon poster I wanted on Ebay for ten bucks. Boo-ya!

New decor for the office.

I can't tell you why I love this movie. It's fully lame. There's just something so cracked about it, so utterly off that it makes me giggle.

[made with ecto]

Candy doesn't have to have a point. That's why it's candy.

I wrote a bit of this over in Ray's comments, but I wanted to go into it here for a couple reasons.

One is that I just read a very good article on Roald Dahl in The New Yorker. I didn't know a lot about him, other than vague rumors about his being a real bastard, and that (my eleven-year-old insists regularly) his first name is pronounced Roo-all, so this was pretty interesting.

Second, I wanted to highly recommend the new film, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

[made with ecto]

So the short review of Howl's Moving Castle.

As Miyazaki goes, don't expect Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke. It's not even close to the magic of those films.

But as films go -- well, it's still Miyazaki. And he's fucking brilliant.

As always, it's beautiful. Sweeping vistas, skies that glow with life, inventive creatures, motion that's not like any other animator. It's inventive and clever.

Unlike the other films, though, there are plot and pacing issues. The plot makes little sense, and the title character never really makes any sense, vain, shallow and cowardly one moment, brave and honorable the next. We never really see any reason for anyone to love him, yet love is supposed to be the motivation for much of the plot. It's a muddle, but a light-weight one. There are also moments that drag, where characters are talking to each other without it seeming very relevant.

There's plenty to like though; the main character, a girl names Sofi who's under a curse that turns her into an old woman, seems to change ages continually throughout the film in a deeply surreal way; this wasn't an accident, I think Miyazaki is saying something with it, but I couldn't quite crack the code. The voice acting is low key, with good turns by Lauren Bacall, Blythe Danner and Jean Simmons, though Christian Bale is entirely too manly as Howl.

Unexpectedly, Billy Crystal's vocal performance as Calcifer, a fire demon, was wonderful. Usually when they put someone funny in a part like this, it screws up the character, as with Phil Hartman doing the cat in Kiki. Here, for some reason, Crystal's performance makes it work.

It's well worth seeing; I'm hoping the weaknesses were due to it being a story from outside source, not due to any slippage of Miyazaki's talent.

My father's day was pretty much uneventful. No one fought, no one cried. The kids and I went to the Winchester Mystery House, a place that seems to have endless entertainment value for Olivia, and then I took off and had a little time to myself while the family made me dinner. Not exactly the plan I had in my mind's eye for the afternoon, but you take what you can get, and peace is not a bad description for a day. Later, I'll pour a scotch and watch Six Feet Under, and then I'm thinking good thoughts about sleep, something that's been in short supply lately.

[ of course after I wrote that, I realized that they've moved six feet under to a different night, so I had to content myself with old Monty Python episodes, but you know there's still sleep to look forward to... ]

How is it the same guy can make Desperado, Sin City, and Shark Boy and Lava Girl?

It's what you gotta do sometimes when you're a parent. You go to movies because this weekend, you need something to do with the kids, not because there's something brilliant playing that you gotta see. When this happens, you gotta choose from what's on.

Sometimes there's the unexpected winner. I mean, who'd have though the Wild Thornberries movie would be a charming little flick? Sometimes you get Madagascar, funny, but not something to seek out unless you need a kid flick.

And sometimes you get Shark Boy and Lava Girl.

Let's start with -- my god what a headache I have. Hasn't 3D gotten better? It took a can of PimpJuice (also known as PJ Tight, the #1 Hip Hop Energy Drink!) to get that under control.

I wanted to like this movie. I was willing to laugh with it when the jokes were terrible and the dialog sounded like written by Rodriguez seven-year-old son (Who's credited with 'story by'). I was even willing to find the low-grade CGI effects charming.

But god. It's boring. Boring, boring, boring. The kind of boring where you wait for a bad joke to groan at because it relives the boredom.

Ok, fine. The kids liked it. They're the target audience. But damn, you know, I want a director who's as talented as Rodriguez to have a little, just a little more judgement and self-restraint.

So what's good about it? Very little. There are some clever creatures, something Rodriguez has a gift for (plug dogs, or something like that, hell-hounds made of electrical wires with plugs for heads), funny casting (Kristin Davis of Sex and the City as Mom, and David Arquette as Dad, looking eerily like Rodriguez himself). But the the only thing that kept me entertained through it was the delightfully pink-haired Taylor Dooley as Lava Girl. She's cute as a button, and I'm setting my watch for how old she has be for, well, you know. Hell, 2011? Ah. Ok. I'm hoping she keeps the pink hair, I tell ya.

Sigh. When does Howl's Moving Castle open? There's one I'll line up for.

I'm not gonna devote a lot of space to this, but I saw 'Revenge of the Sith' last night.

Background -- I'm not what you'd call a huge star wars fan. But I was when the original came out. 1977, I went to see star wars over and over and over. Best movie I'd ever seen, at the time.

But honestly, in a lot of ways I wish they'd just made the one. While the second was well done, and built the mythos, the third was weak, and as a whole, they are just not as cool as that simple first film.

So when Lucas announced he was making a new trilogy, I was vaguely excited, but fearful.

The first new film -- Jar Jar. Need I say more? Technical without really looking that good, and aside from some great casting, not a good film.

I skipped 'clones' completely. The name was stupid, the previews were bad. I just wasn't interested. I'll go rent it eventually.

So when the previews for 'sith' looked good, I was surprised that I wanted to see it. I started to remember how much I loved the original.

I felt a sense of great nostalgia last night when I walked in, seeing kids in the front row. I remembered how I had to -- had to be in the front row, or I would leave and wait for the next showing. I'll never forget that first moment when the first ships enter the frame, like something direct from my teenage daydreams and fantasies. I'll never forget how I felt watching the storm troopers and Vader enter the scene.

So I'm ready to cut 'sith' a lot of slack.

Executive Summary -- I enjoyed the hell out of it, and if you don't think hard, it's not a bad film.

Good things -- no Jar Jar, at least no speaking Jar Jar. No Ewoks. Natalie Portman is still a hottie. Hayden Christiansen isn't a horrible actor. Ewen MacGregor odes a pretty damned good Alec Guiness. The lizard Obi-Wan rides (which I'm thinking of as a 'Tharlarion', and if you get the reference you're a geek) rocks.The fights are great. General Grevious is too fucking cool. The film, for something completely digital, looks pretty lifelike.

Bad things -- the script. Come on Lucas, you're not a dialog writer. A little Yoda goes a long way, and this film has a lot of Yoda. Natalie Portman can't act. The spaceship battles really don't look that good for all the technology. Evidently, start travel is now instantaneous, time/distance is not a factor. The whole plot is made of spit and bailing wire.

Basically, it's candy. You have to strap in and hang on and not look too close, but it's an enjoyable film, and it exceeded my expectations.

But you know, I want to go back and watch the original now.

(Fair warning -- this is a stupid flash thing and plays fucking music. Kill your sound)

I was kinda hoping for someone more evil. But as long as I'm not fuckin' Jar Jar Binks...

"She smells like angels ought to smell. ... The perfect woman. The goddess. Goldie."

     -Marv, Sin City

Well, we're on the theme of comics, so we might as well talk about Sin City.

MJ Simpson, Douglas Adams biographer, has posted a review of the new Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy movie.

A few key quotes:

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy movie is bad. Really bad. You just won't believe how vastly, staggeringly, jaw-droppingly bad it is. I mean, you might think that The Phantom Menace was a hopelessly misguided attempt to reinvent a much-loved franchise by people who, though well-intentioned, completely failed to understand what made t