Film Review: Jaws (1975)

Is there a scarier living creature than a shark? All muscle and teeth, they prowl the oceans with precision senses to hunt and devour just about any sea creature. Though they rarely target people, one can't help but to fear them when they do attack. With rows of teeth that constantly regenerate, the jaws of a shark can leave a person deformed and mangled in a best-case scenario. At worst, you're dead meat.

1975's Jaws is a fictitious yarn about a Great White shark that attacks an unassuming girl, leaving only a mangled corpse that makes police chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) raise the alarm to close Amity Island's beaches. When the mayor (Murray Hamilton) and his cronies refuse to shut down the beaches during tourist season, the shark continues to wreak havoc. Even a local bounty hunt fails to catch the maneater, causing Brody to team up with oceanographer Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfus) and salty boat captain Quint (Robert Shaw) to hunt and kill the monstrous shark once and for all.

Before you come out and scream that books are always better than their movie counterparts, I'd like to point out that Peter Benchley's novel Jaws was wisely adapted by Spielberg to keep all the cool parts and ditch the bad, resulting in one genuinely solid movie that surpasses the book. Care was given to make the characters relate-able and likable--indeed, the actors help as they juggle levity and emotion that paints their characters as fully-dimensional human beings. It really helps that some subplots, including one where Hooper sleeps with Brody's wife, is excised completely (seriously, that stuff really killed the novel for me, good riddance).

The film banks on the threat of the shark to drive its story--even in the first half, set amidst the mundane bustle of a small seaside town, the tension is cranked up thanks to the political pressure Body faces. It's amplified in interesting ways, thanks largely to Spielberg's penchant for always having characters talk over each other and splitting their attention--I can't say I like this technique in other films he's made, but it works in Jaws as our own attention becomes split between all the mundane babble and the overarching threats Brody always eyeballs. The film proceeds to string the audience along with its tension, using little more than shots of a single dorsal fin skimming the ocean--this leads to one or two fake-outs, but the inevitable payoff may elicit a startling scream all the same. This ultimately builds up to a nearly hour-long finale where the leads board the Orca and face the shark head-on--the film still finds time to wedge in chemistry and character-building, but the final hunt remains captivating as the boat falls apart and the three heroes face constant problems, before "Bruce" makes his final lunge. Suffice to say, all of the film's thrills work phenomenally thanks to its content and style.

A simple story, but one told well thanks to its dedicated performances, creditable location shooting, and quality of production. The cinematography is often pleasing, using postcard-like composition to bring out the rugged charm of the town and the sea--it really helps that the crew built rigs and watertight camera boxes to film at sea as well as they did. Even with such gear, however, the production went 100 days over schedule and millions of dollars over budget--the cast and crew alike pulled long hours across this strenuous shoot, having to face challenges with the ocean and malfunctions with the mechanical shark. Limitations ultimately forced Spielberg to cut the film with less of the shark shown, but the film is all the better for it since it achieves a "less is more" effect. Like a Hitchcock film, Jaws builds tension through suggestion and the careful reveal of details (and this is an effect that would further influence Gareth Edwards with Monsters and 2014's Godzilla). Part of Jaws' success stems from John Williams' score, which further emphasizes threat with the simple, minimalist use of strings. To this day, you'll likely hear the theme's gradual build and feel chills as if you are indeed being hunted by a shark.

Spielberg might have been in over his head regarding the production--this being his third feature-length film, his ego and inexperience probably made this a bigger pain in the butt than it needed to be, but it is refreshing to read his current reflections, in which he humbly admits to his faults. It was a creative learning experience that nearly ruined the guy's career. And yet, the film came out as a smash success full of iconography--with a lean script, solid style, and wonderful performances, it remains a modern-day classic. It really says something that, even in my generation, the film is instantly recognized by just its music and a few good memes. The cast and crew are champs for bringing this all to life. The film seems to bite deeper each time I see it.

9/10

Film Review: Cats (2019)

Dear reader--forgive me if I seem out of sorts. My recent bout of madness began when I finished watching Cats. Even though I viewed this on my television set, I can affirm that this is not a film. It can only be described as a thing that should not be.

The tale of Cats is a curious oddity for theater circuits, although it might fare best on the stage where the camp bears charm. On film, we are thrust into a horrifying world where cats and human beings have merged into one--all abominations made possible with the undisciplined science of CGI. To watch the film is to watch a monstrous hoard of cat/human hybrids prancing about a neon-lit reality where the shape and size of things constantly fluxes scene-to-scene. Even the reality within the film breaks as the CGI fails to cover every blemish of the performers and costumes. With terrifying veracity and a daunting runtime, the film whisks its viewers into a damnable hellscape where the hybrids sensually flex and sway their bodies amidst cheese-coated serenades and jazz numbers. It's perhaps at its most terrifying when a decidedly miscast Rebel Wilson enslaves some subraces of rat/child hybrids and cockroach people, and devours some of them with uncaring glee.

Such is the horror that Tom Hooper conjured out of Andrew Lloyd Weber's stageplay (in turn, a whimsical adaptation of TS Elliot's stories). By nature of its origins, Cats is constructed in a formless fashion, amounting to little more than a string of musical setpieces that spotlights specific "Jellicle" cats--the definition of which is left mysterious, but suggests a form of grace and redemption for a few chosen characters. For the film, however, these origins are bastardized into a script, where cinematic conflict and act structure are forced upon this plotless tale. Within this malformed structure, the characters remain one-dimensional specters that prance in and out of each scene with little consequence. Any semblance of romance and adventure is abandoned in favor of contrived structure, and ghastly spectacle and song. I can't deny that the music is fairly catchy--the sheer cathartic power of Jennifer Hudson's solos may be the film's most redeeming feature. I am largely smitten by Francesca Hayward's performance and Taylor Swift's brief appearance (curiously, she had collaborated with Weber on a new song, "Beautiful Ghosts," which Hayward sings quite well in the film's middle, even though it sacrifices pacing to do so). But such music is like a siren's song, luring film-goers into the depths of an empty abyss where the currents of a story are faint and inconsequential. Such is the damnable emptiness that's conjured when filmmakers fail (or don't bother) to comprehend that some elements of a stage musical make for poor cinema, and some elements of cinema make for a poor musical. Alas, the film's attempt to balance both mediums results in an aberration that could have only been summoned from the Necronomicon.

Who knows how much sweat, tears, and money was sacrificed to conjure this reality? Much care was given in elaborate props, sets, costumes, and lighting, but the film remains infamous for its garish, inconsistent (and upon its release, incomplete!) special effects. The cast is noteworthy, but it is perhaps sobering to watch distinguished thespians like Sir Ian McKellen and Dame Judi Dench devote their talents to such bizarre fare (transformed as monstrous cats nonetheless). All the cartoonish gloss and color does little to patch the imperfections, much less the vapid story or the unwise decision to bring this film into being in the first place.

Film and theater lovers take heed--I have ventured through the uncanny valley of madness and witnessed the unfathomable terrors of endlessly wavering tails, twitching ears, and fur-lined faces. In a time ravaged by a global pandemic, domestic rioting, and rampaging murder hornets, I can only conclude that Cats is the harbinger of mankind's doom. Every night, I behold the abyssal night sky and wonder on humanity's significance in a universe where Cats exists. Amidst the endless sea of multiverses, it may all be a literal reality where cat people truly perform ritualistic song to invoke immortality. What are we compared to such Jellicle abominations? I have gazed long into the void in search of an answer. Then, I heard a song whispered out of the darkness:

Meow meow meow meow

Meow meow meow meow

Meow meow meow meow

Meow meow meow meow

3/10

Film Review: The Mandela Effect (2019)

Over the past few years, I became acquainted with a bizarre new theory that suggests our reality is changing. You remember Nelson Mandela, the South African leader who passed away in prison in the 1980s? No, he was alive up until 2013. You remember the Berenstein Bears? Look again--they've always been spelled as the Berenstain Bears. Was it Jiffy peanut butter, or just Jiff?

People are noticing small details everywhere that seem slightly off, and they'd swear that it was never this way. I read up on many of these details, and I gotta say--it's mostly baloney. Especially the movie lines--these are so easy to misremember, especially when they're erroneously repeated or spoofed by other people and sources. Even movie titles can be hard to remember properly (I knew a guy who always pronounced Mel Gibson's Apocalypto as "Apocacrypto" and I couldn't fathom why he pronounced it that way--but hey, the Mandela Effect really got to me when I realized the Tom Cruise vampire movie was always Interview With THE Vampire and not "a" vampire). There are many factors that contribute to an individual misremembering things, but it can spread into the public consciousness when biases are constantly reinforced and all humans share a similar thinking pattern. Yes, I believe our public forgetfulness of Nelson Mandela's fate was purely natural, and not some malevolent force changing reality. If nothing else, Occam's Razor would favor the former as the more likely explanation. But come on people, some of us can affirm that these details were always one way and not the other--I only had to ask my mom about the Berenstain Bears to confirm that it was always spelled "-ain," and I had simply been spelling it wrong all this time (phonetic and cultural influences affect that memory). To suggest that a person's memory is flawless and it's the world that changes--that's just arrogance.

Suffice to say, I don't believe in the Mandela Effect, beyond the notion that people's brains are fallible. But that's not to say that the phenomenon isn't fascinating--I do find myself drawn to reading and studying it, even though most cases people bring up make me roll my eyes.

It's only inevitable that some filmmaker would use this as a premise to drive a thriller in which a character's reality changes all around them--this is the kind of thing that could invoke Franz Kafka's or Philip K. Dick's strangest nightmares. Hell, even I've been inspired to spin this into a possible novel idea. It's just as well though that David Guy Levy beat me to the punch with The Mandela Effect movie.

The film follows a typical guy (Charlie Hofheimer) who has a wife and child, but in a tragic accident his daughter passes away. In the course of everyday life, he catches onto the small details that seem off (the real-life details mentioned above--the misspelled Berenstain Bears, the misquoted Star Wars lines, whether or not Curious George has a tail). Inevitably, he digs into the details behind the Mandela Effect and discovers that reality is indeed changing all around him--even to the point where reality changes before his eyes.

The film casts its net wide, encompassing the typical conclusions you might have already heard about (most especially Simulation Theory--which, like The Matrix, simply suggests we're all living in a computer simulation). The Mandela Effect layers on the ideas of String Theory and some brief philosophical musings on free will to create the illusion that there's a reason behind all of this madness. However, the film never really delivers a satisfactory answer--maybe we're supposed to speculate on our own that a higher intelligence (or God) is running our universe as a simulation, but this is never made explicit, and if anything it comes off as an unfocused babble. What's really disappointing is that the film paints itself into a corner--when reality seems to finally break, it has no choice but to fall back on the old Donnie Darko trick and use a quick and dirty montage to take us all back to the beginning. Only, in this case it feels like a repeat of the Futurama joke where the characters can't go back in time--they wait trillions of years for the universe to die, become reborn, and wait for everything to happen exactly as it had before. Played straight though, it comes off as a cheap and uninspired--maybe even pretentious.

It's not all a total wash though--the film is perfectly watchable, thanks to the fair photography, grounded performances, agreeable pacing, and an wonderful electric music score. The film only suffers because its script feels like a first draft--so full of unrefined ideas and musings, but made even worse with blunt dialogue, random voice-overs, and bland characterization. It's at its worst when it tries to beat viewers over the head with its ideas--it's pretty clear the film wants to draw cosmic connections and deliver thought-provoking existentialist themes, but there's no nuance or clarity. On the other hand, the film also tries its hardest to make you care for the character and his family--but once again, there's no nuance behind the emotions.

I can't help but to think that Donnie Darko achieves the film's goals in a better, more succinct way, and it does so while maintaining its enigma. And without any bloody Mandela Effects. The difference is in the scripts--one successfully shows more and tells less, and one does not. I can't buy The Mandela Effect, but it is watchable and its finale does have a few interesting effects. When it comes to thrillers that involve changing realities, there are much better titles worth watching.

4/10

More Days Of The Pandemic (May 2020)

It's now been about two months since I last worked. I've been home on leave the whole time, leaving the house only for exercise, the grocery store, and maybe one visit to my parents' house. Anything else--shopping, theater trips, travel, appointments--just hasn't been happening and likely won't for a long time yet.

Living with the pandemic this long has made the last 50-60 days pass by as a homogeneous blur. It's surprising how fast it can fly by, but I imagine it drags for other folks. As an introvert with no shortage of home media, I've always managed to pass the time. What helps the most is that I've taken the time to accomplish a number of things that I've previously pushed off--this way, it hasn't been merely a matter of filling time as it was setting goals and finding a sense of purpose.

It's amazing what one person can achieve with two months to oneself. In all this time, I've managed to do all of the following:

• Clean the house more thoroughly than usual.
• Organize all the stuff in my closets.
• Organize some of my collections of stuff (primarily buttons, keychains, cards).
• Organize and rip my CD collection.
• Organize all the stuff in the bathroom cabinets and such.
• Clean and reorganize the garage.
• Yard work.
• Write a novel.

That last bullet is probably the thing that's preoccupied me the most, since I spent many mornings getting up, going straight to the computer, and typing all morning. When that routine is set, reaching 50,000 words in a month became a breeze. With a plotline already mapped out, blocks rarely stopped me. The book is still unfinished, but it's exceeded 70,000 words now and coming close to the end. Chances are strong that I'll reach the end before June--I might even start editing by then, following a break.

When I wasn't working on anything specific, I managed to fill the rest of my time with these activities:

• Played with Legos. Why not?
• I must have seen over 100 movies. Biggest highlights include:
• Some recent films: Onward, Ip Man 4, Underwater, Birds of Prey, and Easter Holocaust. 
• Caught up on some 2019 films: Ford vs Ferrari, Maleficent: Mistress Of Evil, Judy, High Life, the Charlie's Angels reboot, Midway, The Dunes, The Mandela Effect, and Doom: Annihilation.
• Ten Star Wars films in 4K (the only one I skipped was Solo). Proceeded to view the vast majority of documentaries and interviews.
• Viewed 1974's Rollerball in 4K, an imported UHD from Germany. I'm surprised it actually shipped to me.
• Several Clint Eastwood movies: Joe Kidd, Two Miles For Sister Sara, The Beguiled, Coogan's Bluff, Play Misty For Me, and The Eiger Sanction.
• A handful of martial arts movies: Police Story I and II, Project A I and II, Eastern Condors, The Magnificent Butcher, and Zu: Warriors From the Magic Mountain.
• All of Shoah--a nine-and-a-half-hour documentary on the holocaust.
• The last two thirds of the Human Condition Trilogy (I had seen part one almost a year ago). The two parts combined are over six hours, but these really are some of the best films ever made.
• The entire Bolshevik Trilogy--three silent films from Russia, best seen for their innovative cinematography: Mother, The End of St. Petersburg, and Storm Over Asia.
• Viewed three movies with commentaries: Big Trouble In Little China, The Last Temptation Of Christ, and The Passion Of Joan Of Arc.
• Revisited old favorites: The Great Escape, The Fifth Element, M, and McG's versions of Charlie's Angels.
• Rewatched and re-evaluated Up and The Mask of Zorro, both in 4K.
• Viewed some that may be considered classics, some for the first time: Dog Day Afternoon, Midnight Cowboy, Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), Dark Victory, The Ox-Bow Incident, Alfie, Stagecoach, and Late Spring.
• Viewed a few TV shows. I had started watching all of The X-Files some time ago, so I picked it back up again with Season 8 and finished it. I also finished McGuyver Season 1, all of The Tiger King, and all of Seven Worlds, One Planet.
• Listened to music. In retrospect, I tend to be a rather passive listener, so there are some albums I've tried to evaluate more actively. I did start a thing so that I may eventually post about my favorite albums, but I wanted to make sure I listen to more of the classics first.
• Heard some newly released material: NIN's Ghosts V and VI, Delain's Apocalypse & Chill, and Nightwish's Human .||. Nature. From a recommendation on a forum, I also listened to Architect by a band called Ist Ist, and it seemed like just the right thing to inspire some of my writing projects.
• I acquired Def Leppard's Early Years collection, so naturally I listened to all of On Through The Night and High 'N Dry. Hot dang, these are great. Also listened to Hysteria, which is an album I've been familiar with since childhood.
• Led Zeppelin I. I had heard it a few times before, and I still find it enjoyable--probably my favorite of theirs.
• Black Sabbath's Vol. 4 might be one of the best albums I've heard over the past two months.
• The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band--I'm not even a big Beatles fan, so this was my first time hearing the whole album, but it was surprisingly solid. 
• Quite a few David Bowie albums: Diamond Dogs, Aladdin Sane, Earthling, Outside, Blackstar. 
• Went through a phase where I listened to a lot of prog rock. This includes Yes' 1969 album, Close To the Edge, and 90125. Also listened to Emerson Lake & Palmer's Brain Salad Surgery. If it counts, I also listened to Colosseum II's Strange New Flesh. It's all quite interesting.
  
• Santana's Abraxas--so smooth.
• Queen's News Of The World--few big hits there, but the rest is just okay.
• Norah Jones' Broken Little Hearts, one of many CDs I own that I wanted to review to see if I even want to keep them. This one's a keeper--the melodies got to me.
• Death In Vegas' Dead Elvis. Just because. I've heard this one a few times before, it's a good album to pop in when I can't think of anything else worth playing.
• Surprisingly, I've played very few video games. There are some though.
• Doom Eternal--duh.
• Saints Row: The Third. This in itself has taken up 40 hours, and I'm still a ways away from finishing it to earning the platinum. It's an easy grind though, I expect to plat this by summer at the latest.
• Started White Knight Chronicles--one of the last few PS3 games I've had sitting around that I never touched. This one could take a while, but hot dang, the first couple of hours have me hooked.
• Dabbled with my Steam library a bit. Played the first part of Space Quest 1 (yep, the original, non-remastered version--I usually can't even with these text-input type games, but I might be getting the hang of it). Also played a bit of Frostpunk (dang, this one's brutal), and a few smaller games (Runes of Avalon, Big Money, and...I'm not sure if this is appropriate of me...but Plague Inc is still really addicting).
• One game I have played frequently is Warcraft III, largely because my dad is on it too and we play together online with it. We mostly do co-op against computer players. I know lots of folks hate the Reforged version for various reasons, but it's been working just fine for the two of us.
• Few books read. Wish I could have had more under my belt, but everything else tends to suck up all the time (maybe in the future I'll watch fewer movies).
• Finished reading a horror anthology entitled What The #@&% Is That? Loved it.
• Finished Time's Eye by Arthur C Clarke and Stephen Baxter. This was a book I checked out of the library at random, and I found it enjoyable.
• Finished Fan-Tan by Marlon Brando and Donald Cammell. Even though this was the actual Marlon Brando who co-authored this book, I was not a fan of it.
• Read a book on the artwork of HR Giger. And I read it, not just flipped through the pictures. This guy was wicked.
• Read the first three volumes of the graphic novel version of Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?
• Finished reading Michael Crichton's Rising Sun. It was alright.
  

There are a few little things that I thought about doing, but never actually made time for. This includes sketching, doing origami, and playing with some of the other tools I have on my PC (like the music-maker program). I could probably find time for these things by cutting back on other activities, but I don't begrudge the time I've spent. I've accomplished much, even if a lot of this seems passive.

It is getting to the point where I'm becoming restless. Movies and games can pass much time, but when you binge too much it becomes more of a chore. I might actually come out of this with a desire to spend less time on such things. As events and weather permits, I'll probably look forward to getting outside more to explore and take photographs, just like I used to in other places.

Tomorrow, after so much time off, I will return to work. I question how much of an e-mail and tasking backlog I'll have to wade through--however, it will be gratifying to spend my time on something meaningful, rather than something idle. Even if I have to do it with a mask on and staying six feet away from people, it's still more engaging and healthy than spending day after day being idle.

It's funny, because I've had my fair share of days where the stress of work, expectations, and personalities made me yearn for a lifestyle where I could just bum around the house and work at my leisure. You know, like a novelist. And while working on a novel project, I didn't mind spending my days that way. However, if it wasn't for my writing, my days would have been a pointless slog. To spend a career doing this requires many income streams set up through many novels. And for a writer to remain relevant and profitable, one would need to write, edit, and publish constantly--the number I've heard is around six books a year. Professionals can handle this effortlessly, thanks to sharp skills they've refined through years of practice, and some may have better aptitude than others.

I chose to work a standard, eight-hour workweek because living independently demands money, and writing just doesn't pay unless you're well-established. Even if I was established like that, I have the feeling this hobby would become droll work. If I garner any success, I'd rather it be for a good off-brand piece of hand-crafted literature, and not a bunch of mass-produced trade books. And that's something I expect to handle as a side thing. On top of that, work offers experiences, skills, and knowledge I would have never had otherwise.

In short, spending the last two months cooped up at home had the perverse effect of helping me see the value of a day job. Any workplace has its drawbacks and dramas, but without it, life would be surprisingly stagnant. It's strange how an event like the pandemic can make one appreciate the things that once seemed mundane.

Film Review: The Fifth Element (1997)

In a unified and harmonious universe, life thrives amidst the forces of nature, often epitomized in certain mythologies with four elements: earth, air, water, and fire. For humanity, however, a fifth element exists in the center of all these forces, and is necessary to defeat absolute evil.

So goes the bizarre mythology behind The Fifth Element, in which all five elements are made into literal artifacts that were once kept in an ancient Egyptian ruin, but were whisked away by aliens for safe keeping. When the year 2263, a mysterious cosmic force manifests in deep space and seems to grow more powerful when attacked. Per the guidance of a priest named Vito Cornelius (Ian Holm), Earth has 48 hours to find the elements and reunite them, or else life will perish. A chain of events leads to the rebirth of the fifth element: a supreme being named Leeloo Dallas Multipass--no, wait, sorry, just Leeloo (Milla Jovovich). She inevitably crosses paths with cab driver and ex-space-fighter Korben Dallas (Bruce Willis), and he embarks on an adventure to save the planet.

All of this craziness is the brainchild of Luc Besson, who penned his ideas and storylines while only sixteen years old. Twenty-two years later, the final product stands as one of the most unique sci-fi extravaganzas ever made. In terms of immersion, the sheer amount of detail, worldbuilding, and eccentric design gives Star Wars a run for its money. In terms of action and effects, the film dazzles with a calculated use of models, pyrotechnics, and eye-popping CGI. Viewing it today, you might see some creases showing in the older effects and some of the sets (seriously, there's one set where the wall is just tin foil, and Jovovich just runs right through it--I dunno, just roll with it). Regardless, most of it holds up handsomely, and the film leaves you with memorable sights of a futuristic New York full of flying cars, on top of fantastic spaceships, an exotic flying hotel, and a literal space opera.

The film flies by a mile a minute--not with explosions and action, even though both are in abundance (seriously, the last act feels like Die Hard in space--Willis' own charisma keeps it just as badass). The cast fills the gaps between the action with arousing levity. Even in the robes of a mystic priest, Ian Holm's deadpan reactions will elicit chuckles. The film's villain, Zorg (Gary Oldman), is a hammy, one-dimensional mustache-twirler you'll love to hate. In the last half, the obnoxious antics are cranked to overdrive thanks to Chris Tucker's hyperactive performance as an effeminate pop radio star who just can't shut up--this guy might actually make or break the film for many viewers. The whole cast is populated by zany, cartoony expressions and reactions--the sheer spunk of the cast and script makes the film snappy, even when narrative momentum dries up in the middle. All of it is accentuated by the stylish visual palette, the sumptuous production design, and Eric Serra's strangely clanky music score (some of these music choices are head-scratching, but hot dang, the Diva's Dance is hip!).

Judging the story is probably a futile task--it's a strange hodgepodge of vaguely-defined mysticism, ancient aliens, prophecies, and tropes that feel ripped from other sci-fi and action movies. It suddenly occurred to me that the premise of using the five elements--earth, fire, wind, water, and heart--to save the planet is literally the same as Captain Planet. I'm not sure if that's an intentional parallel. Besson did collaborate with Jean-Claude Mézières, who penned the Valérian comics, which in turn fed more inspiration into The Fifth Element (especially the decision to make Dallas a cab driver, although this was also something that 1981's Heavy Metal showed, itself based off of the French comic The Long Tomorrow--between all of this and Besson producing all those Taxi movies, I feel like the French love taxi drivers). The characters feel archetypal, especially Bruce Willis, who plays Dallas like a futuristic John McClane with less cursing. In the same vein as Besson's other films (especially Nikita and The Professional), the relationship between two characters from two completely different backgrounds (worlds even) becomes the through-line that makes the funny scenes funnier, the romance cuter, and the action weighty. Can't say that any of these characters have a firm arc, but Dallas' search for love seems to be good enough in a movie that's already packed. Few scenes are wedged in to give Leeloo doubt over the value of the human race, and it might feel like something ham-fisted in the last minute. But if there's any consistent point to the movie, it is the conflict between forces of life and forces of destruction. I'm certain the film wants to say more about it through exploring armed conflict, political corruption, industrial espionage, environmental damage, rampant consumerism--it's all shown in brief flashes, but never explored in explicit detail.

What I admire about the film is that the whole thing--all its eccentricities, its far-reaching ambitions, its twists and double-crosses, its bizarre premise--is perfectly digestible thanks to the steady and careful way it unveils the story. Exposition is delivered in short punchy bursts, which always keeps the audience informed, but also stays within character and never feels like a droll infodump--and that's the way it should be. Nothing is confusing because every important piece of the characters' journeys are shown to us. The film's strongest moments are the ones where the camera lingers with the characters as they explore the city, the ships, the planets, and through their eyes, we experience their adventure and become invested in the stakes. This is just good storytelling, plain and simple.

Understandably, the film will lose some people. Rudy Rhod is only slightly less annoying than Jar Jar Binks--frankly, Rudy's cartoony antics never made me cringe as much, but I know it bothers many viewers. The whole film has awkward tics, quirks, and neurotic reactions. You know what though? I love how snappy, spirited, and unique the experience is. It's never boring, even when it's obnoxious. Everything is just pop pop POP!

If you want to see a great sci-fi adventure unlike any other, this may be your ticket. It's cartoonish and not particularly deep, but it's well-crafted with a lot of zest and heart.

10/10

Book Review: Fan-Tan (Marlon Brando and Donald Cammell)

I don't know what caught my eye first--the exotic cover art, or Marlon Brando's name. Yes, Marlon Brando, the Hollywood legend, co-wrote a book with struggling filmmaker Donald Cammell. My curiosity compelled me to read their adventure for myself.

Anatole Annie Doultry is a convict in a Hong Kong prison, who bets everything he has on cockroach races. When he saves the life of another prisoner, he inevitably finds a way out and crosses paths with
Madame Lai Choi San--a sultry and mean gangster. When these characters team up, they take to the high seas with a plan to a ship-load of silver and treasure.

What's more interesting than the actual novel may be the history of its inception and writing. As far back as the 70s, Brando and Cammell hit it off well and brainstormed potential movie ideas together. There is likely an alternate universe where Fan-Tan exists as a gritty 70s thriller (they try to sell this as a "swashbuckling adventure," but I get more of a film noir vibe out of this). They decided to try their luck penning the story as a book first, then maybe adapting it to film. A series of disagreements and conflict inevitably caused the project to remain shelved until 2004, just after Brando's passing. What's printed now is a patchwork made from Cammell's and Brando's unfinished drafts, but pieced together by the editor. I have a feeling the actual text is mostly Cammell's work, with Brando supplying the ideas (especially behind the character, for whom Brando could have easily been typecast).

The slapdash quality of the text may not help much, but I have a stronger feeling that Cammell and Brando never invested much time in honing their novel-writing or editing skills. The result is a 230-something page tome that feels like 230,000 pages. Most pages are spent effusing detail and purple prose on the reader--so much that it kills narrative momentum. When action actually happens, it's presented very dryly in long passages of unengaging commentary. Personality exists in bursts, but the book's overall voice is stiff and distant. The book even jumps between points-of-view without breaks (headhopping).

What little story exists is made even less palatable with the characters. Maybe they'd be more likable on a big screen, but on paper they just come off as mean, angst-ridden, manipulative, selfish, and racist. The main character comes off as misogynist, especially given what happens in the end (and yet, it also comes off as wish-fulfillment--I'm not sure if it's disgusting or laughable). There are moments where Annie just starts raging out and cursing people out, and I never really understood where it all came from--it's like, chill out dude. Moments like those, all the sex and womanizing, the gritty tone, and the run-down settings betray the authors' intents to be edgelords, but it all falls flat given that I can't really root for any of these characters, and their overall adventure amounts to little more than a gross punchline.

It's a shame, because there are moments that work. I just don't feel that the book was refined enough to work--the text bored me, and the story it tells is a stale, shallow one populated with unlikable characters. Don't let Brando's name (or ego) fool you, this is a pretty droll affair. It's a shame given the amount of collaborative passion (and research, they really went all out) that was poured into the work. Some things probably need to remain buried for a reason, although less-picky readers might consider this buried treasure.

3/10

Book Review: Time's Eye (Arthur C Clarke and Stephen Baxter)

So, you're telling me there's a space odyssey AND a time odyssey now? And the co-author is the guy who penned the authorized Time Machine sequel? Sold!

Time's Eye is the first in a series, conceived as an offshoot of Clarke's A Space Odyssey, but with very slight (if any) connection. The novel follows a group of soldiers from the year 2037 on a UN peacekeeping mission, and a group of astronauts from the ISS. They are all caught in an event in which the Earth inexplicably becomes a hodgepodge of landscapes from different eras in history--everything from 2037 all the way back to the Ice Age. The soldiers happen across a group of 19th century British soldiers marooned in time--surprise, one of them is Rudyard Kipling! When they team up, they come across a group of ancient warriors--surprise, it's Alexander the Great and his army! Meanwhile, the astronauts make their way to the changed Earth and are captured by barbarian horsemen--surprise, it's Genghis Khan and his army! Once cultural and language barriers are overcome, two sides form and they make they way to the site of Babylon (halfway destroyed and abandoned by the Discontinuity). As you might surmise, war inevitably breaks out between the Macedonians and the Mongols, each side aided with the knowledge given by their 21st century allies.

I thought this whole concept was great, and it was enough to keep me hooked all the way through. By nature, the premise staggers the imagination and I'm quite satisfied with the way the book slams its historical heavyweights into the battlefield together. I'm not personally well-informed on the exact history of these cultures, but it appeared well-researched to me--if there are any inaccuracies I couldn't tell you. In fact, I was smitten by the meticulous way each cultures' history and lifestyles are shown. There are enough details to bring the sights, sounds, and smells of each side to vivid life, but without beating the readers over the head with prose. It's a breezy and immersive read.

However, I can't say that I'm in love with any of the lead characters. I barely even remember them. Most introspection is spent on observing the changed world and the magnificent cultures they experience, but little is spent on developing character depth, personality, or arcs. Maybe it's intentional to let the premise and the mystery of time's eye take the center stage (those are the aspects that intrigued me the most anyway). Most of the protagonists are simply good people--some are well-informed, some aren't, one dude is Muslim, one lady is a single mom, one other lady is evil and betrays everyone to the Mongols because reasons. Strangely, Kipling comes out as the most lovable and memorable character. Alexander and Genghis have their moments too, but even though they have whole chapters detailing some of their thoughts and personalities, they say surprisingly little. There are a few directions that are probably supposed to bear weight (like Bisesa's relationship with Josh), but relationships like this aren't given the time or text to develop--they simply happen.

It may boil down to the way the book's written sentence-by-sentence. Even though it does a fair job of animating the story with detail, it often breaks the "show don't tell" rules by over-using vague descriptions, using an awful lot of adverbs and adjectives, and skimping out on character voice. There are chapters that stand out more than others (such as the ones where a "man-ape" named Seeker becomes the POV character, reminding me so much of the opening for Clarke's 2001: A Space Odyssey). Strangely, the ones focusing on Alexander and Genghis remain distant, as if the text talks about them but never embodies their thoughts or feelings in a specific way. Because of this, the "why" of certain actions and relationships fall short, and the main characters come off as flatter, less interesting this way.

There are other pieces that stick out oddly (especially one fleeting scene in which the characters encounter Buddhist monks in their own isolated niche--this scene is invoked once in speculation, then never brought up again). The book reaches an interesting cliffhanger that promises more to the lore of the alien intelligence that masterminded the Discontinuity, and more adventures are presumably given in Sunstorm. It is a little reminiscent of the monoliths and mysteries that A Space Odyssey showcased, and I probably wouldn't mind following up with the sequels (although as I understand it this series remains incomplete due to Clarke's untimely passing).

This book is probably more Baxter than Clarke, even though trademarks of both are present. I found the book interesting and readable, but taking a step back I can't help but to see that the characters could have used more finesse and the style could have been refined. Regardless, I enjoyed reading this a lot for its concept, the details it gives, and the adventurous way it pushes its characters into historic battles and cosmic mysteries.

7/10