House of Horrors

Video Game Week continues!


You may have caught it earlier today if you follow me on Twitter, but today's post is all about the fond memories I have of stumbling on to the NES port of Maniac Mansion. 


Being born in the early 80s and raised in a small town with very patient and kind parents, I was afforded an NES at an early age, though with little to no context to the world of video games. Sure, years down the line I would delve head on into the world of Nintendo Power and kindle the flame for my present-day pseudo-journalism, but at the time all I had for guidance in the world of video games was A - my older brother B - the playground and the miscreants therein and C - whatever was on the shelf at the local game rental place. I was raised on Mario, Excitebike and Ninja Turtles. The Nintendo catalog was fairly sparse. Even at my young age, though, I displayed a predilection for B-movies and the bizarre, macabre world of 1950s throwbacks. So imagine wonderment extremely piqued curiosity when I saw this cover art on the shelf at the local game-rental shack:

Though it took me a few trips to work up the nerve to give it a spin, once I finally checked it out my sense of gaming was irrevocably altered. Adventure games became a kind of mature, more intelligent and expressive medium for enjoyment. While I love side-scrolling, beat 'em up affairs like Double Dragon and the pop-art stylings of the original Duck Tales game, Maniac Mansion shaped my fundamental understanding and mental conception of what video games could aspire to be. The game is fairly simple in terms of how's and whys: you play as three teenagers exploring a spooky house while trying to free your friend from a scientist, pointing a cursor at objects to interact with them (sound familiar? These things repeat because they work, people.) It started a trend, along with a certain RPG series I intend to write on, of favoring the text-heavy (but not solely based) headier games, particularly those with a flair for the morbid or twisted. From here I branched out in genres to find my niche - whereas a great of modern gaming is online FPS with headsets, I still prefer to sit with headphones in the dark while I explore Rapture, reveling in the solitude and personal journey that games can provide. Community has never been a quest for me, rather the individual's experience and how we internalize it and make sense of the world. That might just be a self-centered way to say I don't play a lot of multiplayer.

As much as I love this quirky point-and-click tale from Lucasfilm Games, it really bums me out to know there are so many people out there, especially younger than me (grump, harumph, grumble) that have no experience with the genius and trailblazing adventure. Created by the inspired Ron Gilbert and Gary Winnick, the game not only helped coin the phrase 'Cut Scene' but brought to the forefront the burgeoning genre of point and click adventure games. King's Quest, Sam & Max, Monkey Island, these games all rode in on a wave started by these two designers experiementing in a new and distinct genre of gaming. It allowed for a more immersible and cerebral playing experiences. Players used their brains to rationalize a world beyond the context of reflexes and number-crunching. In my own mind I viewed the experience as somewhere in a delta between watching a movie, reading a book and playing a game - it wasn't a traditional video game. At the time, I knew it was different from the rocknroll of Mega Man, but only now can I look back and see exactly what it was that set it apart. What with all the potential screw ups and no-win dead-ends, there was a real sense of "what can I do here?" as compared to the popular format at the time of "Run to the right, kill things, keep moving". It was a weird little world to explore.

Not only was it a strange experience in terms of game play, but additionally the attitude was remarkable for the time. Nintendo of America had a strict policy about the content of the games they published - censorship was the norm at the time. This game, with it's abundant corpses, blood, aliens, teenage protagonists and Pepsi products, seemed strangely adult and more mature. Only in the last few years have I had a chance to read up on the localization process that Gilbert and Winnick experienced in translating their groundbreaking work from home PC to NES. It's an amusing tale of arbitrary corporate policy to say the least.


Thankfully, Maniac Mansion has seen enduring popular acclaim through the last 20 (20!!!) years. There have been numerous ports and remakes over the years, ensuring that as long as there is an audience, it remains possible and enjoyable to play Maniac Mansion just one more time. Maniac Mansion Deluxe is the reigning champ, being both excellent and free, so please - if you ever played it and just want to try it again, never heard of it and missed out on the history of it or just want to see where modern gaming came from, check it out. It really does hold up as a great game in the most essential way.  I'll see you tomorrow.

Youth On Film

Evening!


It's raining right now, on a muggy Friday night. I love it.


I just got back from a showing of Super 8, the new flick courtesy of J.J. Abrams and Steven Spielberg. Long story short - I loved it. I'm not gonna get all gushy here; the movie was not without its flaws. That being said, I did really have a fun time watching it and would highly recommend it if you want a reason to head to the movies.

As is typical for Abrams, the project was shrouded in secrecy from day one and had a de riguer viral marketing deal to it that encouraged nerds like myself to get all obsessive and hunt down clues to get teases and glimpses of the movie. I have made it painfully clear here that time is one precious commodity of which I have little, so I wasn't about to start diving down rabbit holes to uncover tidbits about a film I would end up seeing later. In fact, the last time I saw a movie in the theater was back in late November of 2010 - the excellent and subdued Monsters, and that was mostly due to my curiosity and the fact that it was at a theater less than two blocks from my apartment.


Anyway.


If you've heard this movie summed up as a mashup of The Goonies, ET and Cloverfield...you're pretty much right on the money. That sounds like damningly faint praise but I promise it really does play out quite well. While the writing and script are fairly rote and your basic meat and potatoes Spielbergian "kids on an adventure while dealing with parental abandonment" genre, the kids chosen for the roles were simply great. A bunch of first timers and unknowns, these kids were a real breath of fresh air compared to some of the jaded and disillusioned Hollywood kids we've all become sadly accustomed to and accepting of. They are surprisingly talented and sweet and genuine, making the impossible seem at least a bit plausible, even as I approach 30.

The Abrams Lens Flare? Full effect, but less so than Star Trek.




The...secret...thing? Good, solid (both in the literal and figurative sense). I can't stand when a special effect/construct feels weightless and impotent (see Hulk and anything Twilight related). Really, the effects in the movie were tops - I found myself wondering how they could put kids in such danger when filming, only then to remember that 95% of the explosions never existed at all. The...secret...thing...was very much in Abrams' wheelhouse, if you've seen other...things...he's had a hand in. My companion for the evening observed that while there were a few interesting touches to...it...we've kinda run th gamut on what's original and novel for....things.

It's fun. It's not heavy handed. I've seen Spielberg step out of his comfort zone with Minority Report and A.I., both movies I enjoy dispute their flaws. I love most of everything Abrams has done, and this is no exception. I say if you want to hit the movies, skip everything else and see Super 8. It's a breath of refreshing sincerity and interesting storytelling in our jaded, irony-driven world. Do yourself a favor and check it out while it's on the big screen.

Movie Week Memoriam

Ladies and gentlemen, here we have it!


The sad yet poignant end to Movie Week. 


I've just arrived home from the premier screening of the locally made, insanely funny Wasted On The Young and I have to say - it is funnier than I could have ever hoped. I mean there were times I felt I should stifle myself, lest I ruin someone else's good time. I howled out loud, along with the rest of the sold out theater. Hell, the 9 pm show was sold out, too. I would love nothing more than to give a thorough recapping of the lovable indie film fresh from Paperback Productions, but do to my intimate involvement with the movie, objectivity is almost non-existent. That being said, I absolutely adored the scenes I wasn't in, relishing the performances of my friends and neighbors. It was also an amazing curiosity to see a motion picture shot entirely on VHS - the aesthetic was both unique and enjoyable. If you're interested, head over to the site and buy it for a single dollar. That's less than a sandwich! I won't say anymore at this point, to avoid accusations of shilling. What I will do, instead, is compile every post thus far on the subject of movies. See, I mostly just write about them, not act in them. So here goes:


Brick - a phenomenal, understated, modern day noir flick set in a CA high-school, starring the amazing Joseph Levitt.
Monsters - a quiet, evocative film on a shoestring budget about societal implications of aliens in Mexico. Awesome.
Cloverfield - the flipside to Monsters, wherein a Cthulian-esque monstrosity attacks NY. Very post-9/11.
Fan Edits - a look at the fascinating world of fan edits and how they change our perceptions.
Spirited Away - one of my favorite movies, ever. A beautiful, heartfelt tale of growing up. And ghosts!
The Matrix Trilogy - the groundbreaking series that looks even more impressive in hi-definition. A must see.
Moon - a moving but lonely and ultimately heartbreakingly human science fiction movie. Duncan Jones is a genius.
Mystery Team - the Derrick Comedy debut feature, an absurd take on Encyclopedia Brown, starring Donald Glover.
The Ride - the shorth film that accompanied 30 Seconds To Mars' single 'Kings & Queens. Heavy and gorgeous.
Inception - a look at how music shapes the experience of this phenomenal thriller. Heady, intelligent stuff.
MST3K - the absolute best of the worst. Manos, Hobgoblins, This Planet Earth. You name it. Yikes.
Akira - an examination of how scene and setting impacted my perspective of the Japanese breakout hit.
Terminator - some of the smartest science fiction movies ever, even if the continuity and quality tapers off.
Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs - surprisingly smart and funny, a great under rated and recent movie.
Oldboy - harrowing stuff, but some of the most original film-making I'd seen in years. Watch it with the kids! (Don't)
Wasted On The Young - Minneapolis-made movie makes moves. I'm so proud of everyone involved.
Pleasantville - see Tobey Maguire and Reese Witherspoon before they were stars. It's a charming 90s movie.
Silent Hill - an uneven, but enjoyable horror flick I love more for the soundtrack than anything.
Chasing Amy - Kevin Smith's best work, an honest and moving look at relationships, with plenty of dick jokes, to boot.


There we are, kids. Quite a few, so feel free to peruse and see what you find. I plan on doing more on movies later, but I ought to get back to what I do best. In the future though, I'd like to branch out more, do more themes. Maybe books? Games? Lord knows the web is full of guys like myself writing about video games. Something more obscure....perhaps comedy? Who knows. Hey, I'm open to suggestions - drop a line and let me know what you think! 

Spotty Weather

Alright, gang - it's movie week. I'm calling it.

Instead of spending my posts positing about unheard or under-appreciated albums of yesteryear I'm going to delve into movies for the next week, writing about some forgotten or overlooked gems that deserve just as much love as the musicians. Think of it as an experiment or a broadening of horizons. IF you love it, gravy. If you hate it, it's only a week, so no worries. Strap in, then, as we draw back from science fiction ever-so-slightly and look at a more recent, more family friendly flick, Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.

I know what you're thinking. "Really? A movie based on that children's book? Why not just make a movie about Candyland, while you're at it?" Well, the powers that be in Hollywood are already working on that, and in my defense - Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs is good. Like, really, really good. I honestly wouldn't have given it the time of day were it not for a write-up on sci-fi emporium io9, which basically sold me on the movie. I, like many others, had dismissed it as just another schlocky, CGI'd kid's movie that was probably done on the cheap for a quick buck. What reason would I have to suspect otherwise? It was when I read the io9 article explaining how it was the stealth sekritbest science fiction movie of the summer that I thought about giving it a second look, and I was really glad I did.

 We all loved the book, growing up, right? But there's not a lot to it, so I assumed there would be some fleshing out of details to create a decent plot. Turns out the script writers created a believable and charmingly funny world out of the bare-bones plot established by the children's book. To condense the entire plot without spoiling all the fun, an optimistic but terribly unlucky young inventor named Flint has been struggling with failure and not achieving recognition for some of his more...unusual creations. Creations like spray-on, permanent shoes, rat-birds and a thought-translator for his pet monkey, Steve. Eeking out an existence with his gruff but loving father in the island/town of Swallow Falls, Flint has grown tired of the sardine-based lifestyle everyone living there depends on, from tourism to horrible meals. So he sets out to fix it with a water based food generator, "Flint Lockwood's Diatomic Super Mutating-Dynamic Food Replicator" (or the FLDSMDFR) . Something gets supercharged, the experiment goes wrong and soon food is raining from the sky. A plucky young weather girl comes to report on the bizarre occurrences and a romance of sorts begins. Soon, though, larger and larger portions begin to rain down and something must be done to save the tiny town of Swallow Falls. I know it sounds like I may have had a stroke while writing this last bit here, but trust me, it's an absolutely wonderful movie that is surprisingly funny and incredibly well done, especially in the overstuffed market of family affair, computer generated comedies. 

The voice acting is a major part of what makes this movie so great. SNL alum and ubiquitous modern comedy star Bill Hader delivers a genuine performance as the endearing but constantly-failing Flint. Anna Faris and her distinctive comedy timing compliment the romantic subplot as well as the main drive of the film. Neil Patrick Harris provides the voice of Steve the monkey, in an amusing cameo. Andy Samberg channels his energy into the local child celebrity-turned-washed-up adult Brent, showing his schtick through his vocal chords instead of his flailing body language, for a nice change. There's a cop whose small but significant role made me look him up to verify it is indeed Mr. T providing the voice. Also - Bruce Campbell as The Mayor! The acting is all very energetic without being manic, the characters possessing some genuine motivation despite the outlandish settings and scenes. 

Visually, the film is astounding. There are times, when watching, that you'll see food and think "I wanna eat that" before you realize it's not real. So often you'll see CGI movies that have clearly phoned it in, getting by on the barest production values. Not so much here - the settings are down-to-earth towns and buildings, the people just a tad cartoony (deftly avoiding the uncanny valley) and the action set pieces are executed insanely well. This movie is filled with little moments that make me go agog, staring at something like the fluid waves of a Jello castle or a garbage can in an alley, thinking "this looks way too good for this movie." It's even better in Blu Ray, to boot. There are tons of blink-and-you-miss-it gags to be found that make repeat viewings fun, as well as some incredibly funny call back jokes that made me howl. Some favorite moments, without divulging too much: the jello castle, young Flint and his permanent shoe disaster, the runaway TV, and anything involving Steve and his obsession - gummy bears. 

I know I started movie week off yesterday with some hard sci-fi. Hopefully this recommendation is a little more middle of the pack, but it still shows its nerd-loving, brainy roots at its heart. It's smart, funny, well made and well acted. Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs slipped under the radar a bit when it came out in theaters, but it's totally worth watching, trust me. It is available on Netflix Instant, but do yourself a favor and watch it in HD to really get a sense of what I'm talking about. You won't be disappointed. 

End All Be All

Hey there.

I'm gonna switch gears completely today. Instead of proselytizing about music, I thought I'd share a bit of a cinematic experience. A man can only write so much on one subject, after all. So strap in, kids - we're gonna look back at the nature of origins and rediscovering the forgotten.

I was listening to the latest installment of the Nerdist podcast yesterday, featuring the incredibly intelligent and funny Patton Oswalt. Over the course of the podcast, Hardwick and Oswalt's conversation turned to the incessant obsession with reboots and remakes in Hollywood and how frustrating it is now that the duration between iterations seems to be decreasing. For example - Spiderman 3 was barely out of the theaters before there was talk of rebooting the franchise and now Christopher Nolan has yet to film The Dark Knight Rises and the studios are setting up the rubric of a reboot. It's exasperating. What I took away from their discussion was the simple notion that I should appreciate the source material while I can, before it's mined for originality and thrown on the scrap heap due to obsolescence. One such example of the never-ending molestation by the Hollywood machine would be the Terminator franchise. 

To cut to the chase - I love this series, flaws and all, but when you get down to the heart of it the first two films were never that flawed. It wasn't until further iterations of the franchise came to pass that the quality began to dip. Even then, I had the pleasure of watching the Sarah Conner Chronicles on Netflix and by the end of the second season the show had really gotten to be quite good. Shame it was cancelled right as it grew the beard. After chewing my way through the show I thought to myself "I only watched those movies years ago, I ought to go back and see what the fuss was about now that I'm a little older". I was pretty young when the blockbuster Terminator 2 came out and I remember my parents hemming and hawing about me seeing it at a friend's house. Being the young science-fiction nerds we were, we watched the movie with rapt attention, then immediately went and rented the original Terminator, which had essentially made James Cameron into the name he is today. It was a fast and furious affair, a tense and terse movie that never strays too far from the premise, much to its merit. But I had no idea at the time, not even into my teens, the impact that medium and quality would have on a viewer's experience and interpretation. So much like my post on Akira and second viewings, I went back to the beginning and started working my way through the Terminator series Blu Rays to see if they had held up to the passage of time.

Man, do they.

I don't recall, exactly, the quality of the VHS on which I watched Terminator. I just know that A) it was probably at least five years old B) it was on a tiny TV and C) I hadn't actually set out to watch the movie in its entirety since then, so it had been, what, 15+ years? Watching it again, then, on the crisp, new transfer to Blu Ray after such a long time was revelatory. It was honestly like seeing the movie for the first time. The audio was crystal clear, the scope of the shots were impressive, even for a young director like Cameron was at the time. It was apparent, even now, decades later, that this was a fantastic concept for a movie and there wasn't an ounce of fat on it. The movie is a fast paced, relentless piece of work, taking place over the course of a scant 36 hours. Arnold Schwarzenegger is intimidating and believably robotic, Michael Beihn is passionate and desperate, a great fit for the role, and Linda Hamilton serves as a credible audience proxy. I was stunned, frankly, to see how great the movie looked in the present day despite what must have been a shoe-string budget. No surprise, then, that the movie spawned not only a long-running franchise but countless knock-offs as well. This was a smart, heavily science-fiction based action movie that made evil robots somehow believable to the movie-going public, something the imitators had trouble accomplishing.

Cameron ramped up the effects and scope of the movie for a sequel six years later, making Terminator 2 (at least at the time) one of the most expensive and impressive movies put to film. Unlike the first, however, I had seen this move countless times in the intervening years, including more than once in my college apartment on a rinky-dink little TV/VHS combo I had in my kitchen. I liked to watch a movie while I did the dishes - so sue me. Anyway, as I have stated before - a larger TV and clearer format make for a substantially different experience. I never got to see these movies in the theater. At home on a widescreen was as close as I was going to get, and it was still an eye opening experience. While I would have loved to experience the novel twist of playing off of the audience's expectations of the little guy being good and Arnold being bad, I still got a fresh perspective from the new format.  Once again, the movie had a renewed sense of weight and impact, the gun violence seeming more real and the details standing out just that much more. One of my favorite scenes in any movie is towards the back of this film, in which our protagonists break in to Cyberdine Research to change the future, bringing the entirety of the Los Angeles police force to the scene. The cold, desperate drama of the situation gives a heavy finality to the scenes as a young Edward Furlong replies to an insanely fit Linda Hamilton about how many cops are waiting outside. A beat, then his shaky reply: "Uh...all of 'em, I think." The sequel isn't quite as tight or novel, meandering away from the premise to examine what sentience is and how identity and self impact our actions. Predestination was more a theme of the first film but it still plays nicely in the sequel, albeit in more subtle manner.

I have to confess - I'm totally sold on this franchise. You can say what you want about diminishing returns and the less than stellar results of T3 and Terminator Salvation, but the Cameron continuity, namely the first two films and the TV series, are actually surprisingly intelligent and well done. The first two films are absolutely phenomenal, especially in the context of a fresh viewing with the latest technology. They're tight, intelligent movies that changed peoples perceptions of what science fiction could be. If you're at all curious what they're like and haven't seen them before, or just haven't seen them on Blu Ray, do yourself a favor and see what all the fuss was about - dude, it's killer robots. It's tops.

Second Time Around

Well, well, well.

Can't keep a good site down, eh?

After some difficulties yesterday with servers and outages, my schedule is  back on. I had written yesterday's post well within the time limit and published it, only for Blogspot to short out on me. After many refreshes and head scratching, here we are back in business. Feels good. Additionally, since the post was written and published (but not updated to circumstances beyond my control) I'm going to count the streak as unbroken. Where does that leave me? Something like 133 days, straight, of fresh content? Right-o, let's keep the ball rolling, shall we?

I didn't get Akira the first time I saw it. 


This is not to say I couldn't follow the plot, although some spotty dubbing and a rinky-dink TV didn't help any. I mean, I got it and all. It just didn't click with me right away. What I hadn't realized, though, is that scene is just as important for the viewer as the director.

I had picked up the movie after seeing (and loving) Spirited Away. Wanting more anime to satisfy a burgeoning curiosity, I picked up the 1987 release on DVD shortly after seeing Spirited Away, assuming it's reputation as a landmark, touchstone film would guarantee a prized place among movies I owned and cherished. All I knew at that point was: it was anime, it was highly regarded, it was about a post-war Tokyo set in the future and there was a motorcycle. That pretty much summed up my a priori knowledge. I suppose it was only slightly racist, then. After an initial viewing I was left a bit befuddled and unsure of what I'd seen. I understood the nuts and bolts of the plot yet still was asking myself "What was all that about, then?" Like Homer awakening to the horrors of Poochy, I asked myself "At least I liked it, didn't' I?" 

I can say now, after subsequent viewings, that the answer is an emphatic yes. However, in contrast to my experience with Spirited Away (and countless other anime movies I have since consumed) I found that my personal scene for viewing the movie was a detriment to the process of taking in the movie. Whereas that experience was almost serendipitous in its ambience, this movie, I found, required intentional and deliberate scene setting in order to enjoy it.

As I said earlier, my initial viewing experience was not ideal, not just for this movie but for any. It was a sunny afternoon after my lectures were done for the day, I was in my college apartment and the TV I was using was probably no bigger than the monitor on which this is being read. Not exactly the best way to experience a movie known for it's distinct imagery and massive scope. Details were vague, characters started to become interchangeable and the impact of large set pieces and scenes was lost. Still, despite my unintentional scene, I enjoyed the movie and a few years later I decided to revisit it, really watch it again but under much more cinematic circumstances. 

My (impending) father-in-law is a man who approaches life with the attitude "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right." This includes his approach to media consumption. So one day while visiting his house with my better half, I was afforded a span of time with which I would be able to view a movie on his massive TV in a private screening room. Despite this being just in advance of the proliferation of Blu-Ray, it was about as ideal a viewing experience as I could have asked for - a massive (like, 70-plus inch) TV, artificially darkened room with a great sound system and no disturbances whatsoever. My phone was off and I was isolated, seated, most likely, much to close to the TV.

It was revelatory.

My entire understanding of the movie had changed as a result - characters whose features and design seemed indistinct were suddenly illuminated. I found myself realizing "Oh, it's that guy!" whenever a small but recurring role popped up. Epic city-wide shots seemed more transporting and somehow 'real' than they had previously. The vital, dangerous energy of the action sequences and chase scenes was almost dizzying due to the perspectives and size of the screen. A plot whose players seemed at time non-descript suddenly was crystal clear (although this was obviously aided by a repeat viewing) and an ending that had been almost under whelming the first time around was now intense and unrelentingly powerful.  Basically watching the movie in my own personal theater completely changed the film for me - it went from a 'pretty okay' in my book to 'Holy Hannah, that was good'. Seeing it under those circumstances made me wonder how it's reputation had propelled from the theaters into viewer's homes, and how insane it must have been to see it in the first theatrical run. 

To be perfectly frank there is a lesson I've taken from this whole experience (other than give unusual art second chances). That lesson is that unless the circumstances are right, I shouldn't consume media via small screens unless I really need to. I'll absolutely watch something on my phone, say, on the bus or on a plane, but the ipad is such a step up over that. If I don't have to use the ipad, I won't - these devices allow me to make it portable but I don't use them as the only means of consumption. Basically I want every viewing experience to be as close to ideal as possible, at least on the first pass for a movie or show. If I went to bed early - sure, I'll watch a bit of a movie just for something novel, but I'd rather do it on a widescreen. 


Of course, I say all this with the admission that I won't follow my own advice.

TV Time

Well, well, well. Look at what we have here.

Another Friday afternoon. How nice.

Instead of haranguing you about some album you absolutely must listen to or complaining about Minnesota's Worst Spring, I thought I'd give a bit of advice in case your Friday night isn't as kind, weather wise, as mine is. If you're stuck inside or unable to go out and cause a ruckus why not unwind with one of the funniest shows to come from my home state? You see, kids, I was raised in the pre-millennial era, a heady time of unchecked cultural development that some are quick to dismiss as a painful, awkward time in the life of modern thinking. Many cringe when they think back to things that were popular at the time - Blossom, Milli Vanilli, Family Matters. It's okay, you don't have to feel bad, I was there too. I watched Captain Planet and American Gladiators. But while there were the shows about which we all have a wince and a laugh, there was one show I laughed at then and still do today.

Cable was a vast, untamed landscape that exposed my pre-adolescent mind to all sorts of things, from the dreary (or so I thought) PBS to the debauched (so I thought) MTV. A little fledgling network, though, laid the groundwork for the development of my sense of humor almost as much as The Simpsons did. Comedy Central was, at the time, just a random, insignificant channel on the spectrum. Instead of the force of nature it is today, back then it was a lot of British imports like Absolutely Fabulous and Whose Line Is It Anyway interspersed with stand-up specials and reruns of Dr. Katz. What stood out, though, what really hooked me, was a strange show that seemed to show a lot of bad science fiction. Like, the worst they could find. And they just bagged on it.

It was sublime. 

It was Mystery Science Theater 3000, hailing from my home state of Minnesota's cable access channel.

Joel, a sleepy maintenance man for Gizmonic Institute, had been kidnapped by his evil bosses Dr. Forrester and TV's Frank and shot into space to be a prisoner aboard the Satellite of Love. The extent of the experiments being performed on Joel amounted to being shown cheesy sci-fi movie as the terrible twosome monitored his mind. Joel, wanting some company if he had to endure such terrible films, ended up using the parts that control when the movies start and stop to construct some robot friends. Gypsy, Tom Servo and Crow all coexisted with Joel, providing his only emotional support as they sat through film after film of absolute schlock. That sound too absurd? Here, maybe it's more palatable as a theme song. 

Having no access to the burgeoning internet, I basically stumbled onto the show and was initially puzzled. What was this? Why the silhouettes on the bottom of the screen? Soon, though, I was in love. This show was genius! As the trio riffed on the movies and just made jokes over bad films, my sense of humor (and snark) came to form. Pithy, witty banter, all at the sake of someone's hard (but poorly executed) work. Awful science fiction movies from the 50s through the modern era, just piled up and mocked, along with the occasional short to pad out an hour. This is the show that made Manos, The Hands of Fate famous! While the movies were train-wreck affairs, the kind of stuff you just couldn't look away from, the shorts were my favorite - often they were the hopelessly dated and out of touch educational films from the 50s and 60s, the kind of stuff with a family of characters all referred to as "Mother", "Father", "Sister" and "Brother". I may not have gotten all the jokes, not even being in my teens at the time, but I was constantly in stitches, absorbing every wise-crack and non-sequiter.

 What makes these fond recollections even better for me is that they still hold up as hysterical. I had *ahem*...downloaded...a few in college and my friends and I watched them obsessively. Having found them on Netflix is even better, knowing there's no danger of viruses or bad files. There's an insane amount of content available and this way you don't have to shell out quite as much as if you bought the whole DVD collection. Even though the show ended years ago, two different factions of cast and crew have been continuing in the riffing tradition, skewering modern and classic selections. Check out the sites for Cinematic Titantic and Rifftrax to see what is available - you just download the track, sync it up with your TV and voila! New material! As I said, if you're trapped inside tonight check out the joys of skewering bad content. Hopefully you're as amused as I continue to be! 

Mind Digging In

Let's get weird, shall we?

I loved the movie Inception. No question about it - I recall with great joy the feeling of giddy befuddlement I had while sitting in the Lagoon theater, watching Dom Cobb and his band of thieves traipsing through the dreams of corporate heirs. It was director Christopher Nolan at his best, having constructed a twisting tale of espionage and international intrigue through a meta-referential script and some of the best (if underrated) actors of my generation. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy and Ellen Page all turned in superb performances that made an outlandish concept and serious nature surprisingly compatible. Yes, yes, Leonardo was great, we all know it. But the secret star of the movie? Hans Zimmer and his relentless score.

Much has been written about the use of sound in this movie. From the inspired move of creating the booming, throbbing action score from the 'kick' music 'Non, je ne regrette rien', sung by Edith Piaf, or the effect a continuous score has on the audience when it is suddenly removed from the scene, the score is omnipresent and ever-changing. It's no wonder the film entrances viewers the way it does - it manipulates them so deftly with the soundscape that they don't consciously register what's happening. I was completely enthralled by the movie and I didn't even see it in one of the Imax theaters like my friends. It was pretty crazy for a 2nd viewing on a Blu Ray player with some nice headphones and about a half of a bottle of Cab. As I've written before, I much prefer watching movies at home now, as compared to the theater experience. 

I loved the movie, not just for the story or the actors or the sounds, but for the whole feel of the thing. There's an intangible quality (duh) that I find so enchanting but elusive, something so mysterious about the not-quite-real worlds constructed by the architects and how they feel in my mind. I was naturally curious, then, when I saw that there was to be some sort of Inception App released for IOS devices. What would it be? Just some humdrum clips and pics? A couple games with poor production values? That's what was typically offered, I'd found. To my wonderment, what was released still entrances me to this day, over six months later.

The brain child of Michael Breidenbrücker, the app is a fascinating and clever use of the mic/headset combo for either iPhone or iPod. Essentially what happens is this: you plug in your headset, fire up the app and press a button to induce dreaming. The code in the app then takes the sounds of the world around you and warps them while playing them almost instantly into your earbuds along with snippets of the movie's score. On the surface it sounds like a fairly simple, if novel, use of a mic and headphones. As an experience, though, it can be amazingly transcendent.

Pedestrian tasks like riding an elevator down to the basement become surreal, otherworldly experiences. The whole world takes on a slightly ethereal quality and you become ever so slightly out of step with reality. When you boil it down to the essence it really is just a gimmick, a fun twist on sensory feedback, but the effect it has on daily life is astounding. On the right day you can create something epic out of boarding a bus or locking a door. It was winter here in Minnesota (big shock) when the app was released, and I had more than a few strange and amusing experiences walking home in the snow with Hans Zimmer's soundtrack playing along, the crunch of the snow beneath my feet becoming a series of endless, descending echoes. If you open up your mind it's fun to see what can happen. A little sense of wonder never hurt anyone. It's a bit of fun, just some harmless novelty for passing mundane tasks, but if your mind is open it can be crazy.

The way the sound and music augment reality in this app brings to light what is potentially a new wave in sound design and musical creation. There is a world of possibility here - I can picture artists making albums meant to be experienced, not just listened to. Or maybe video game designers bring the experience into the world around you. In the meantime, I have a small window into the other-worldy feeling one of my favorite movies in recent years created. Being able to crawl into it in just the slightest sense is such a fun, strange thing. Give a look see if you have a compatible piece of hardware. 

Totally Unrelated

Welcome back!


I figure if you're reading this you probably watched the Oscars. The Venn Diagram was most likely pretty close together on that. Maybe I'm being presumptuous, but who knows? Regardless, I'm in a movie mood. Makes sense, right? Either way it bears repeating: Moon is a fantastic movie. It deserved accolades in 2009 and absolutely warrants repeated viewing today. I mentioned it the other day when posting about Max Tannone's awesome soundtrack mash-up based on the idea.

Directed by Duncan Jones (or Zowie Bowie, if that helps) and starring the always-interesting Sam Rockwell, Moon is, as I have previously written, a sad and quiet film, full of poignant and melancholy moments. It's the lonely, heart-rending tale of Sam Bell, the sole Helium-3 miner on the surface of the moon, accompanied only by computer A.I. GERTY, voiced by Kevin Spacey. GERTY, by the way, is a wonderful companion piece to Sam, in a delicious homage to Kubrick's 2001. Sam is responsible for overseeing the operation on his lonely outpost in our near-future, manning the station all alone. 


Mostly alone.  


During a seemingly routine day, Sam ventures out into the lunar landscape to check on potential problems and stumbles across a wrecked vehicle. Like any sane person, Sam brings this mysterious stranger back to the station, where he makes a disturbing and disorienting discovery - it's him. Sam is faced with Sam. No answers, immediately. I was quite perplexed on my initial viewing of the movie - Sam is faced with himself and hardly seems to question the situation. What happens from there, though, is both wonderful and tragic. Working through the context with GERTY's assistance, Sam begins to piece together just what strange business is afoot on the lunar surface. I won't go any farther into the details, to save your own discovery of an amazingly intelligent piece of honest-to-goodness Science Fiction, more Bradbury than Transformers. These days it seems if you hear the term Sci-Fi it inevitably means huge robots fighting each other or some terrible, bottom of the barrel guilty-pleasure schlock. Moon, in contrast, is a breath of fresh air. It's so smart and subtle. You really have to see it in action to appreciate the understated beauty of the film. It received it's share of accolades upon its initial release and currently holds a 90% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes, if that's any help.

Moon is fantastic in every sense of the word. It's touching and human, grounded and out of this world. It had a small theatrical release in 2009 with high praise, yet little wide-spread appeal. Since then it's gained steam and reputation from its excellent production and heart. I really do love this movie and feel that if you have any patience for science in your movies you really should give it a fair shake. Netflix, Redbox, Itunes - however you can, dig up this hidden gem and see what can happen on the surface of the moon that can move you. It's wonderful.

Re-re-revisted

Welcome back to the work week and if you're observing it - Happy Valentine's Day. To alleviate what is no doubt a total overload of hearts and chocolate today's post is not relevant to the holiday at all.

You may remember this column I wrote a few weeks ago about my love for fan edits and how they can give a fresh take on familiar territory. I mentioned toward the end of it that I had just picked up the entire Matrix series on Blu Ray and would be offering my thoughts on how it had aged and what it was like in light of the edit. What I found was about what I expected, although there were a few surprises as well. 

I was bonkers for the series as soon as it unfolded. I remember being so excited upon receiving a VHS of the first movie as a Christmas gift. I relished seeing the sequels in the theater, controversial reception or not. What was fun about this recent viewing of the series was the novelty of a new format and a renewed interest in the movies, as almost ten years had passed. It turns out The Matrix still holds up incredibly well - even after it has been endlessly parodied and ripped-off by every diluted iteration of science fiction and action movies. In fact a great deal of the first installment is so intelligent and well made that I don't think the Wachowski brothers had any idea they would have the impact they did. Not unlike Red Letter Media's side-splitting take on the Star Wars saga (that George Lucas' own hubris was his own downfall, essentially) the underdog status of The Matrix and it's out-of-left-field success are what brought such critical acclaim. It was almost inevitable that the sequels would turn out to be so transparently indulgent and over the top - you have a runaway, unexpected success and you follow it up by further indulging what you assume to be the best instincts that got you there in the first place. Again, my Apologist nature for defending flawed media rears its head. 

But I digress. 

What I found to be of particular highlight was watching the movie through a new format. Home viewing in the late 90s was a different beast, especially when I went off to college. I never saw the first movie in a theater. For me The Matrix was a private, basement movie that was only seen on VHS and TV screens only slightly larger than today's pc monitors. Perfectly satisfactory for the time but not ideal for really appreciating what you were seeing. Furthermore, having owned it on VHS right before DVD became the norm defeated the possibility of double dipping. So I waited for the right time. The transition, then, to the hi-definition of Blu Ray on a great, big, wide-screen TV was astounding. It honestly felt like I was watching a new movie. Details I had never seen jumped out, tones and movements were totally fresh - the energy and detail was amazing. This movie was so smart and well done that I wondered how I had gone so long with out watching it just for kicks. I guess it becomes like living in a tourist city - you're around a thing so much that it becomes humdrum. Everyone parodied it and copied the aesthetic that it stole the essence of what was already a pastiche or homage. Watching it ten years later with renewed clarity gave the movie a chance to breathe. I would definitely watch it again, if my Netflix cue wasn't overflowing. 

The sequels...they're more of a curiosity. My article on fan edits definitely was prescient to the movies at hand. As I stated earlier, the two movies (Reloaded and Revolutions) were filmed back to back and the story they tell is a single, overstuffed tale of multiple developments and confusing twists. I thoroughly enjoyed them in the theater but hadn't really gone back to watch them in earnest in quite a while. This lack of motivation to revisit them may have been the first sign they weren't as engrossing as their predecessor. Seeing the fan edit that removed most of the 'fluff' of the movies (all of the material outside the titular matrix) significantly warped my recollection. Seeing them now, unadulterated in glorious hi-def really made the differences apparent. While I was still engaged by the philosophical concepts put to good use (which greatly expand on the original's themes of identity, self, karma and reality) I was much more aware of how massively fleshed out and drawn out the movies became. Some sequences, to be candid,  absolutley killed the momentum. I wanted to see these movies for heady mind trips and visually astounding kung-fu and gun fights, not political discourse on how to defend a drab colony of unhappy people from flying robots. That has too be one of the most unusual sentences I've typed in a half-hearted defense of a guilty pleasure. 

Granted I tried to watch the sequels as close together as possible, to further the notion that it's actually one 4.5 hour sequel, which would be draining and too long regardless of content. I can't watch the original trilogy of Star Wars straight through, let alone what are already view as flawed, if niche, films. Still, seeing them in their entirety in this eye-catching format was refreshing. The distinction between theatrical experience and home viewing is eroding with every passing upgrade and I have to admit I am quite enamored with watching a movie at home where I can - 1. pause when I please 2. have a cocktail 3. wear some quality headphones (I live in a condo) 4. not be interrupted by other people in the theater. I probably sound like I'm fussy and you're probably right for thinking that. But with these concessions in mind, the experience, though wearing towards the end, was still enjoyable and worthwhile. I'm still happy I shelled out for the whole set, especially for the bargain they go for now.

I'm sure from the mixed signals I'm sending in this post it doesn't really come across as the strongest endorsement of the trilogy. I haven't even touched on all the crazy bonus features or the phenomenal universe-expanding Animatrix. I suppose the driving point of today's post is that, while the sequels are definitely flawed films, I still love this whole series, warts and all. From the groundbreaking first installment to the satisfying and insightful climax that sees the concepts through to their logical conclusions, it still is a heady, intelligent set of movies. Even the fact that the third installment spends a fair amount of time dwelling on men yelling as they fire machine guns at CGI robots (my nerd self questions my own skepticism here), I find myself enjoying it all the way through. My inner nerd still obsesses about the philosophical implications put forth - man's relationship to machines, whether love exists solely as a concept or as a word, does agape love mean more than society. I love that the commentary tracks for these movies have both critics who disliked them and philosophers that loved them, to allow you to create your own triangulated take on what unfolds. It's this sprawling amount of extras that still reels me in.


See all that? That's my Apologist side coming out again. I'll let the movies speak for themselves. At this point you either love them or hate them. Either way, I'd say take another look, just to see what they look like now.

Of Dubious Legality

Okay, for the first time in what feels like a week I'm doing a legitimate, full-on post. 

Alright, enough stalling - let's get right to it. I'm using today's space to examine a concept I had been aware of yet only looked into in the last year. Something of questionable moral and legal territory. Something which deserves a look, frankly. That something is Fan Edits.

While the idea of alternate cuts by people other than the original productions of movies had gained notoriety as far back as the 70s, the idea of a 'fan edit' first gained major prominence after the release of the controversial prequel to the Star Wars Saga, The Phantom Menace. A professional film editor, who for a long time remained anonymous, set about removing the majority of the (perceived) out of place humor and substantial scenes with kid-friendly Jar Jar Binks, as well as rearranging scenes and dialog in an attempt to improve what many fans saw as a flawed entry in their beloved series. The Phantom Edit, as it came to be known, served as the first widely publicized foray into the field of fans editing major motion pictures as they saw fit. The Phantom Edit had corrected or addressed what many saw as severe flaws in the source material; by doing so it illustrated the potential for 'rescuing' other movies that film buffs felt had strong roots but bore weak fruit.

Surprisingly there hasn't been a downpour of lawsuits and court dates stemming from the wave of edits available on the internet. While a particular high profile documentary about fan edits themselves did warrant a cease and desist from Lucasfilms, in the end it appeared to stem from Lucasfilms mistakenly believing it to be a bootleg copy of one of their own movies. Unlike the distribution of music over file sharing services, these edits don't have the immediate accessibility or convenient file size, let alone audience pool to draw on. Multitudes of web users may want to torrent the new Kanye album, but how many people want to see the Lord of The Rings movies re-cut to more properly match the original story Tolkien wrote in the books? From what I can gather: smaller online presence, less impact on sales and not technically bootlegging. It's just taking a DVD you already own and rearranging scenes or cutting things out, essentially. Most distributors haven't had the desire to chase the community down to close off what amounts to be a minimal amount of damage, anyway.

While I haven't had the opportunity to see The Phantom Edit myself, I have had the pleasure of seeing a particularly interesting edit of the back-to-back sequels to the sci-fi blockbuster that was The Matrix. An absolute shift in zeitgeist for Hollywood, The Matrix became one of the most acclaimed (and consequently, mimicked) movies of the last twenty years. A story of man vs. machine, cyberpunk action and techno bombast, it certainly deserved the praise it received. The simultaneously filmed sequels, The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions, were seen as a matter of diminishing returns, however. Overstuffed and wandering, the general consensus was the sequels either went off the rails or tried to cram too much into not enough. Personally I enjoyed them, flaws and all, for the imagery and philosophic themes the movies explored. But that is an article for another day. Today, I'm writing on how they can be combined to make a more cohesive whole.

The Matrix DeZIONized is an edit that combines the two drawn-out sequels and squashes them into one lean, focused film. The effect is amazing. By removing all of the scenes that take place outside of the Matrix, as well as any material mentioning Zion, the result is a movie that feels more in line with the original. Granted, the entire edit then seems to take place in the Matrix, but that was how most of the story was written anyway, so the editor had to work with what was already laid down. Still, the movie moves along at a much faster clip - action scenes seem much better spaced, plot points come at a quicker pace. Hell, the entire story, what the essential point of the sequels was (besides cash), comes so quickly as a result of proper editing here that the viewer has to ask "Why put in all that stuff about Zion in the first place?" Two movies with run times of 138 minutes and 129 minutes, (almost five hours!) cut down to one movie of 121 minutes. Those numbers alone show how much extemporaneous material was present. 

Watching the edit, the story flows so smoothly that you barely notice the few holes left from the cuts, for example characters not having resolution in the final act, or the odd dialog piece not having a previous reference point. This mostly is a holdover from having seen the original films, but if this was your first time through these two films, one would hardly notice. If you have an opportunity and the means to see this movie, I would suggest you take a look, if for no other reason than to study how much of an impact editing a movie can have. It really is a fascinating work.

I say all of this with the knowledge that my own, unaltered, Blu Ray versions of the movie are due to arrive from Amazon any day now. I can rag on the Wachowski siblings all day long and yet these movies are still near and dear to me. I was absolutely enthralled with them when I first saw them, partly due to never having seen the films and texts that they took inspiration from. I waited to buy them on DVD in the box set due to financial constraints and having other burning cinematic desires. So when I saw the entire series was available on Blu Ray for less than $50, I jumped with no hesitation. So, I plan on watching the beautiful transfers of these odd films back-to-to-back, then check out the edit and see if it stacks up after all. If you do, drop me a line and let me know your thoughts.

Also, check out some other edits out there. I'll be doing a write up in the future on some others, including some interesting extended cuts. I've already covered one, the epic and genius rearrangement Chronologically Lost. The intarwebs is full of possibilities.