This Town Is A Lonely Town

Or so says Frank Sinatra, and I'm pretty sure he knows what he's talking about. But anyway, this past weekend I had the pleasure of seeing Inception. As I mentioned before, this was the only movie I was really anticipating this summer, and it was well worth it. I highly recommend seeing it and plan to see it again very soon. Truthfully, it's not even worth attempting to describe the plot or what's going on, and yes, the ending won't sit right for some people, but I thought it was perfect. Christopher Nolan is, without a doubt, one of the best filmmakers working today. Leonardo DiCaprio was great as always, but my favorite cast member by far was Joseph Gordon-Levitt (you know, the kid from 3rd Rock From the Sun). I loved him in Brick, and I loved him in this movie, and I really hope he gets cast in the next Batman film, or at least another project of Nolan's.

So if you saw Inception, you no doubt saw the trailer for The Town. Very few movies do I look forward to anymore, but this is now one of them. It's Ben Affleck's second film as a director, after the great Gone Baby Gone which did a wonderful job of capturing the spirit of Lehane's novel (not to mention proving just what kind of bad ass Casey Affleck is). The difference this time around is Ben actually stars in the movie, but I'll let that slide; Ben has proved himself a great actor when need be, and I certainly don't see him giving a dry performance in one of his own directed films. (And hey, look, Don Draper's in it too!)

The movie is based on the novel Prince of Thieves by Chuck Hogan which I'm reading now. It's a book that's been sitting on one of my bookshelves for years and which I've been meaning to read eventually. That's how it is with a lot of books, sadly, but the fact that the movie is coming out soon, I wanted to read it as soon as possible, and so far, about a quarter of the way in, it's great.

Also, thanks to everyone who entered the Best New Zombie Tales giveaway contest. Despite the high number of comments so far, I count only five eligible entries, which means there is still time to enter. Just make sure to include something zombie-ish in your comment.

Now if you haven't seen the trailer yet, enjoy.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R973kixcJSI

The Last Great Cartoons

On Monday my wife and I went with a friend to see Toy Story 3. It was a great movie, just as good as the other two (it's impossible to pick a favorite, as they're all great, which says a lot as usually sequels suck), and I will admit, I got a little teary-eyed at the end. See, the first Toy Story came out when I was in the 8th grade. Toy Story 2 came out right before I graduated high school. In a sense, I grew up with those characters ... though that doesn't necessarily excuse the tearing up. Hell, I teared up at the end of The Iron Giant. I even teared up at at first ten minutes of the newest Star Trek. I mean, if you didn't find the scene where George Kirk listens to his baby being born seconds before he dies, then you're a robot (and no, I didn't ruin anything in case you haven't seen the movie yet; it all happens in the first couple minutes).

But anyway, seeing the movie made me think about the movies I saw when I was a kid, namely the cartoons, and how back in the day Disney used to make some really great movies. Classics like The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin and The Lion King come to mind, mostly because they came out when I was a kid. Jeez, I'll even include the Duck Tales movie and The Rescuers Down Under, and pretty much anything that Disney made before, oh, 2000 or so. From there it always seemed like the Disney movies went downhill. The quality just wasn't there anymore. No longer were those movies events to go to, but just movies, a way to waste an hour and a half. Movies that you saw and then forget the next week.

Or am I wrong? Obviously I'm older now, and maybe can't enjoy some of the cartoons for what they are, but it just seems like nowadays Disney and other movie houses making cartoons try to dumb down the films as much as possible. They want to please everyone, be as politically correct as they can, so nobody -- nobody -- gets offended. And in doing so, they sacrifice the chance to make great stuff like they used to. Which is odd, because I don't remember that much offensive stuff in those early Disney movies, though I do fondly remember those rumors about the subliminal messages throughout some of the cartoons.

Anyway, what made me think about all this? Because the attached trailer on Toy Story 3 is for a movie called Tangled, which is about Rapunzel, and while it might be a good movie, the trailer I saw just seemed to lack that spirit the cartoons made twenty years ago had. Plus, it's in 3-D. Of course it's in 3-D! Everything just has to be in 3-D now, doesn't it?

So ... maybe I'm not being fair. You tell me. Is it a generational thing? If I were growing up now, would I think these Disney cartoons like Home on the Range and Meet the Robinsons and Bolt would be instant classics? If I'd grown up fifty years ago, would I think less of Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King?

Oh, and Toy Story 3? You better believe we saw it in 2-D.

We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes

Gus Van Sant's 1998 remake of Psycho was an interesting experiment that failed, despite being a reverent, shot-for-shot remake. The reason was simple: It's impossible for us to be that shocked, surprised and horrified a second time. Not just because we know what's coming, but because we can't forget what we know and imagine what moviegoing was like before 'Psycho' changed the rules. We live in the world 'Psycho' made, and we can't go back.

I'm not a big fan of remakes. Occasionally you'll get a decent remake, but most times you just can't beat the original ... unless the original sucked pretty bad. Of course, the reason so many remakes get done is because the studio (oftentimes) already owns the rights and hope they can capitalize on a film that had done well previously. Some movies just can't be remade, though I'm sure people have thought about it and some will try. Like Citizen Kane and Casablanca. You just can't remake those. And Psycho, you can't remake that either, right?

But they did, and I'll admit I went and saw it, though now I wonder why. I disagree with the assessment in that article that says the reason the remake bombed was because it's impossible for us to be shocked again. I think we can be shocked again. Just as long as it's done right. But a shot-for-shot remake? What's the point? The idea behind remaking movies is remaking them. Doing something different. Trying to improve upon. Otherwise if you're just going to copy exactly what was done before, but with new actors and make it in color ... that's just a waste of time. And hence, that's why I believe the Van Sant Psycho is the worst remake ever.

But whatever. Be sure to check out the article. Some really interesting fun facts. Like how Hitchcock "bought the rights to Robert Bloch's source novel on the cheap, then bought as many copies of the book as he could to keep the plot twists hidden from potential moviegoers." Hey, at least the book was selling well, right?

Flossing Sharp Teeth

I just finished reading Sharp Teeth by Toby Barlow, and boy oh boy what a great book. It's like nothing I ever read before, a horror thriller written in free verse. In fact, the style is what really makes this book unique. After the first few pages, you hardly even notice it anymore. Some of it reminds me of James Frey, that stream of consciousness writing, but it's very lyrical at times:

There's blood everywhere, but it's the creatures at the edge, licking the corner of the ruby pool, that hold your curiosity. So get this straight it's not the full moon. That's as ancient and ignorant as any myth. The blood just quickens with a thought a discipline develops so that one can self-ignite reshaping form, becoming something rather more canine still conscious, a little hungrier. It's a raw muscular power, a rich sexual energy and the food tastes a whole lot better.

As well as suspenseful:

Closing her eyes and breathing deep, concentrating, she can now hear the dog's soft breath just outside the door. She measures this moment, weighing the fear and the quickening sense of desperation, knowing that no matter what happens next, so much is ending. She times her moves fast, sliding the gun out, squinting deep for the moment that is ripe to explode one, two, three--- she pulls open the door full and fast falling back as sure enough the dog lunges in fierce and snarling. So first she fires one very loud bullet directly into the dog's skull sending him down empty and sudden. Then, as the delivery girl leaps over, screaming shrill, she jams the pistol into that open shout of a mouth and pulls the trigger again.

Granted, the book won't appeal to every reader, both in form and subject ... though who can't resist werewolves in Los Angeles? I know I can't.

Beatrice & Virgil & Ripped Off Readers

Last month Erin Fitzgerald was kind enough to send me a copy of Beatrice and Virgil, Yann Martel's latest self-proclaimed masterpiece. Here is the author himself telling you what it's about (don't mind that he comes off as a massive douche; he's just very successful):

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYZH2drbfR8

Last year the New York Times reported that Yann Martel got a $3 million deal for the book:

After a monthlong auction Spiegel & Grau, an imprint of Random House, one of the world’s largest publishers, bought the rights to publish Mr. Martel’s third novel, as yet untitled, in the United States sometime next year. Like “Life of Pi,” the new book is an allegory — this time about the Holocaust — involving animals. It relates the story of an encounter between a famous writer and a taxidermist who is writing a play that features dialogue between a donkey and a monkey, both imprinted on a shirt.

Of course, in the article Martel declined to talk about his advance, saying, “Frankly, with all the years it took to write this book, if you amortize it out, it’s not as much as one would like it to be.”

Uh-huh. But here's the thing. The book itself is about 200 pages. With the font size and layout, I'd be surprised if the word count is anywhere over 60,000 words. So yes, it took him over seven years to write that many words, but the sad part? Not many of those words are very good. You'd think if the publisher was paying him close to $3 million (which, let's be honest here, is a nice chunk of change) they might -- oh, I don't know -- have an editor actually go through the MS and fix it up. And who knows, maybe they did, but the book I read felt like it had been written by a high school student -- and not even an above average high school student.

Also, there are seven pages of Beatrice and Virgil discussing what a pear is. Seven pages!!! I'll admit, I skimmed most of this book, and I'm glad I did. The main problem I had with the story is that the author tries to play up this great mystery of what the taxidermist's play is supposed to mean, while almost every reader going into the book already knows it's supposed to be about the Holocaust. That's like going to see The Sixth Sense already knowing that Bruce Willis is dead (sorry if I spoiled that for anyone; if I did, watch Stir of Echoes instead, it's a much better film).

The book has gotten panned pretty much everywhere. This makes me happy for some strange reason. In fact, the only reason I had any desire to even crack open the book was because of how bad it was supposed to be. And you know what? It's even worse than they say. I recommend everyone read it just to see how bad it is. I'm going to be talking more in depth about negative reviews sometime later, but for now, here's how Martel deals with them (notice how he compares himself to Tolstoy, Shakespeare, and Dante):