So, my guard up, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the praise heaped on Bazell's book is largely deserved. His style reminded me a lot of Charlie Huston, only Charlie's "Caught Stealing", which this reminded me of, is superior is every way. Beat the Reaper is a solidly entertaining book, but feels like a first effort. More details of the characters should have been put in to flesh them out, and the ending felt truncated. Certainly enough medical insights and gore to keep your average reader glued, this was a good debut that will earn a look at his second, but not enough to expect a great sequel.
10.07.2009
Beat the Reaper
The story of author Josh Bazell is an interesting contrast to that of Stieg Larsson's; while Stieg died shortly after delivering his manuscripts for what would be a bestselling series, Josh wrote his debut novel to kill time during his medical internship, already having a BA in English from Brown and a MD from Columbia. In short, I felt the Larsson's story made me want to read his book, whereas Bazell's story made me want to roll my eyes at his already achieved levels of success. Really, you went to Brown? You have an MD? You make lots of money? And you can write? Puke!
So, my guard up, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the praise heaped on Bazell's book is largely deserved. His style reminded me a lot of Charlie Huston, only Charlie's "Caught Stealing", which this reminded me of, is superior is every way. Beat the Reaper is a solidly entertaining book, but feels like a first effort. More details of the characters should have been put in to flesh them out, and the ending felt truncated. Certainly enough medical insights and gore to keep your average reader glued, this was a good debut that will earn a look at his second, but not enough to expect a great sequel.
So, my guard up, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the praise heaped on Bazell's book is largely deserved. His style reminded me a lot of Charlie Huston, only Charlie's "Caught Stealing", which this reminded me of, is superior is every way. Beat the Reaper is a solidly entertaining book, but feels like a first effort. More details of the characters should have been put in to flesh them out, and the ending felt truncated. Certainly enough medical insights and gore to keep your average reader glued, this was a good debut that will earn a look at his second, but not enough to expect a great sequel.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (film)
I am a fan, not a fanatic, of the Harry Potter books. I have never read the books more than once. My favorite is still "Goblet of Fire". To a lesser degree, I am a fan, not a fanatic, of the film adaptations of the Harry Potter books. In this case, the best film (by far) of the series has been The Prisoner of Azkaban, a film I have seen many times. Although also a superior book, the film to date has been the only one I felt has captured the essence of the book and improved upon it.
This is not a requirement for a film adaptation. Rowling's books are sprawling works that (after Azkaban, the last "short" book), were typically over 700 pages. Film adaptations are hard enough with short material, but the Potter books also present a situation where material MUST be left out in order to keep the running time under 4 hours. And why must a film be under 4 hours, or 3? It doesn't have to, but the point is to entertain, not catalog events to screen. The film is an adaptation for a larger audience, not just those who demand to see every single scene transposed. I truly feel sorry for one of my Potter fanatic friends who couldn't wait to see her favorite line from the Half-Blood Prince shown on screen. It wasn't. And she felt that overall Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was a let-down for that and continuity errors between it and the book.
My policy on seeing a film that is an adaptation from a book is, if I have read the book, I need to allow a minimum of a few months before seeing the film. Never, ever read the material before you go into the theater (Potter fanatics do this, you see), for then you are ticking off your moments. I can't think of a better way for me to ruin my own fun. This all started back when I read High Fidelity, and then a week later went to see the acclaimed film adaptation. Despite the rave reviews, the film was such a faithful adaptation that I was UTTERLY BORED watching the film. I just ticked off the plot points as they happened. In short, reading the book totally ruined the film for me. But I love reading, and I love film, so I had to adapt a buffer strategy.
The stategy served me well with Azkaban -- I had forgotten so much of the end that I was actually surprised when it was revealed who was the stag in the forest, and of course I kind of teared up. Those moments are magical for me, but it would have been ruined had I just been waiting for it to happen.
Which is why I can say that I thought Half-Blood Prince was an entertaining film. No Azkaban, but what is? Now, I think it's brilliant to split the seventh book into two films to cover your adaptive bases (and make twice as much money!), and deserving for the series finale. Which I've read and won't be reading again before I see the films.
This is not a requirement for a film adaptation. Rowling's books are sprawling works that (after Azkaban, the last "short" book), were typically over 700 pages. Film adaptations are hard enough with short material, but the Potter books also present a situation where material MUST be left out in order to keep the running time under 4 hours. And why must a film be under 4 hours, or 3? It doesn't have to, but the point is to entertain, not catalog events to screen. The film is an adaptation for a larger audience, not just those who demand to see every single scene transposed. I truly feel sorry for one of my Potter fanatic friends who couldn't wait to see her favorite line from the Half-Blood Prince shown on screen. It wasn't. And she felt that overall Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was a let-down for that and continuity errors between it and the book.
My policy on seeing a film that is an adaptation from a book is, if I have read the book, I need to allow a minimum of a few months before seeing the film. Never, ever read the material before you go into the theater (Potter fanatics do this, you see), for then you are ticking off your moments. I can't think of a better way for me to ruin my own fun. This all started back when I read High Fidelity, and then a week later went to see the acclaimed film adaptation. Despite the rave reviews, the film was such a faithful adaptation that I was UTTERLY BORED watching the film. I just ticked off the plot points as they happened. In short, reading the book totally ruined the film for me. But I love reading, and I love film, so I had to adapt a buffer strategy.The stategy served me well with Azkaban -- I had forgotten so much of the end that I was actually surprised when it was revealed who was the stag in the forest, and of course I kind of teared up. Those moments are magical for me, but it would have been ruined had I just been waiting for it to happen.
Which is why I can say that I thought Half-Blood Prince was an entertaining film. No Azkaban, but what is? Now, I think it's brilliant to split the seventh book into two films to cover your adaptive bases (and make twice as much money!), and deserving for the series finale. Which I've read and won't be reading again before I see the films.
Kitchen Remodeling
I don’t think I ever really considered getting a new kitchen until I started to spend more time in it. For the first 35+ years of my life, I would describe myself as a person who “eats to live” rather than “lives to eat”. Gradually, over the last few years, I’ve come to appreciate good food and cooking. I watch “Top Chef” weekly, which I find to be immensely entertaining. I shop at Whole Foods and find myself becoming something of a food snob (i.e., shopping at Giant or Safeway is only for condiments and paper products), know what an heirloom tomato is and love to eat them raw, download and try new recipes, and generally appreciate the act of cooking much more than before.
It’s not that I was ever disinterested in cooking, but disinterested in cooking just for myself. Becoming domesticated (i.e., cooking for more than 1 person) is a huge factor; when the girl is away, I find motivation to cook something for myself to dwindle back to frozen food. (The first meal I “cooked” for us was store-cooked chicken and box macaroni and cheese. Seriously. I didn’t know any better, but it makes me laugh to think about it, since my new found snobbery allows me to laugh in horrible embarrassment at my naivete.)
There is something to be said for the notion that adults are still in essence kids, just with bigger, more expensive toys. Having purchased a home with an kitchen that is over 30 years old, and acquiring a taste for cooking eventually conspired to make for that high-end expensive new toy: remodeling.
(Yes, those are before and after pictures. Yes, that is the same kitchen area.)
I had actually thought about doing it for some time, but it was only when I had gotten to a comfortable place financially, and I was sick of looking at my kitchen that I motivated. Okay, I admit that it was also motivating that I accidentally burned a hole in my linoleum floor and charred my existing cabinets with a flaming wok – we don’t talk about that incident, nor were the paparazzi allows to film the evidence. Suffice to say, I felt it was a Holy Sign, akin to the Burning Bush, one that in no uncertain terms declared that ye should really think about putting in a new kitchen. And as we all know, I never, ever turn my back on imaginary friends.
Nor should I turn my back on real friends, which I happen to have in the way of a contractor who does this kind of work. I contacted THE CONTRACTOR (His site is here with more in-progress pictures), who was very excited about the project. I mean, the kitchen was shoddy, and I wanted to put in something nice, classy, and expensive. I don’t mean like diamonds-in-the-counter, but I definitely want quality. Darryl's the kind of guy who looks at a problem and sees a challenge. (Needless to say, I highly recommend his work.) And I wanted a breakfast counter.
Also, I wanted to time it so I could be on vacation for at least a week while this was done. In retrospect, probably the wisest decision I could have made, but seemed like a no-brainer to me. (Hardwood floors at Christmas?) So, while we traveled to glorious Michigan (pause for sarcasm, but not really – we had a great time, I just can’t help it being a PSU alum), Darryl and his crack team of specialists crafted a superb product, as you can see.
We now have more cabinet space (and closeable cabinets next to the fridge!) than we can fill, even after ripping out the L-shape and turning it essentially into a galleon-type kitchen. The effect is startlingly different, and it feels like there is so much more space. I couldn’t be happier with the product, and I feel now that I have a show-model type kitchen. Which means the pressure is on to step up my cooking skills to match. Which means no more burning woks. I hope. Cheers.
It’s not that I was ever disinterested in cooking, but disinterested in cooking just for myself. Becoming domesticated (i.e., cooking for more than 1 person) is a huge factor; when the girl is away, I find motivation to cook something for myself to dwindle back to frozen food. (The first meal I “cooked” for us was store-cooked chicken and box macaroni and cheese. Seriously. I didn’t know any better, but it makes me laugh to think about it, since my new found snobbery allows me to laugh in horrible embarrassment at my naivete.)
There is something to be said for the notion that adults are still in essence kids, just with bigger, more expensive toys. Having purchased a home with an kitchen that is over 30 years old, and acquiring a taste for cooking eventually conspired to make for that high-end expensive new toy: remodeling.
(Yes, those are before and after pictures. Yes, that is the same kitchen area.)I had actually thought about doing it for some time, but it was only when I had gotten to a comfortable place financially, and I was sick of looking at my kitchen that I motivated. Okay, I admit that it was also motivating that I accidentally burned a hole in my linoleum floor and charred my existing cabinets with a flaming wok – we don’t talk about that incident, nor were the paparazzi allows to film the evidence. Suffice to say, I felt it was a Holy Sign, akin to the Burning Bush, one that in no uncertain terms declared that ye should really think about putting in a new kitchen. And as we all know, I never, ever turn my back on imaginary friends.
Nor should I turn my back on real friends, which I happen to have in the way of a contractor who does this kind of work. I contacted THE CONTRACTOR (His site is here with more in-progress pictures), who was very excited about the project. I mean, the kitchen was shoddy, and I wanted to put in something nice, classy, and expensive. I don’t mean like diamonds-in-the-counter, but I definitely want quality. Darryl's the kind of guy who looks at a problem and sees a challenge. (Needless to say, I highly recommend his work.) And I wanted a breakfast counter.
Also, I wanted to time it so I could be on vacation for at least a week while this was done. In retrospect, probably the wisest decision I could have made, but seemed like a no-brainer to me. (Hardwood floors at Christmas?) So, while we traveled to glorious Michigan (pause for sarcasm, but not really – we had a great time, I just can’t help it being a PSU alum), Darryl and his crack team of specialists crafted a superb product, as you can see.
We now have more cabinet space (and closeable cabinets next to the fridge!) than we can fill, even after ripping out the L-shape and turning it essentially into a galleon-type kitchen. The effect is startlingly different, and it feels like there is so much more space. I couldn’t be happier with the product, and I feel now that I have a show-model type kitchen. Which means the pressure is on to step up my cooking skills to match. Which means no more burning woks. I hope. Cheers.
You Suck
I’m going to say it, and I admit that it’s been a while coming, but it’s time I admit two things. One, Christopher Moore is no longer my “favorite author” of all time. This is not to say that you suck --- here’s my original blog from way back professing undying love. His books are funny and engaging, and there are peaks (“Lamb”, “Island of the Sequened Love Nun”) and valleys (“The Stupidest Angel”, “Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove”, “A Dirty Job”), but I just don’t eat up his books the way I used to. I just think we’ve grown apart, for the most part. I'm more into Charlie Huston and Dan Simmons these days. We've had our time, but it's time to say that you're no longer my above-all-else fave.
Secondly, Christopher Moore has now written two of my favorite books of all time. For the sake of numbering, in my top ten. (No, I’m not going to list them right now.) I don’t have a criteria for this top ten, probably another reason why I don’t have a top ten, but if I were it would be re-readability: can you read the book more than once and still find it to be a page-turning orgasm of the eyeballs? The sequel to (still the champ) my favorite book of all time (“Bloodsucking Fiends”), You Suck, exceeds my expectations and may be as good if not better than the original. But I won’t unseed the original because the sequel is new, or creates yet another classic character (“Abby Normal”). I have my first love, which I’ve read about ten times now, but this one is impressive because it’s not a cash-in for the fans of the original. It’s tight, it’s fun, it’s dorky, it’s clever. And it rocks.
So, bittersweet, Christopher, you are not perfect, you are not the greatest writer ever (this is more to prove my sanity than crush your imaginary ego), but I love, love, love your bloodsucking stories.
Secondly, Christopher Moore has now written two of my favorite books of all time. For the sake of numbering, in my top ten. (No, I’m not going to list them right now.) I don’t have a criteria for this top ten, probably another reason why I don’t have a top ten, but if I were it would be re-readability: can you read the book more than once and still find it to be a page-turning orgasm of the eyeballs? The sequel to (still the champ) my favorite book of all time (“Bloodsucking Fiends”), You Suck, exceeds my expectations and may be as good if not better than the original. But I won’t unseed the original because the sequel is new, or creates yet another classic character (“Abby Normal”). I have my first love, which I’ve read about ten times now, but this one is impressive because it’s not a cash-in for the fans of the original. It’s tight, it’s fun, it’s dorky, it’s clever. And it rocks.So, bittersweet, Christopher, you are not perfect, you are not the greatest writer ever (this is more to prove my sanity than crush your imaginary ego), but I love, love, love your bloodsucking stories.
10.06.2009
Up
For the second time this year, I teared up in the first ten minutes of a film. At the moment this happened, I seriously wondered if I had reached some age in my life where I was becoming overly susceptible to media emotional manipulation -- I can't recall any two movies where I nearly cried at the beginning before 2009. Yet, here I was again, months after my [fabulous] experience with Star Trek, blubbering this time over the first ten minutes of an animated movive -- Up.
Star Trek at least had a lot of history going into it. I knew what was at stake, who the characters were, and the lasting impact of the situation. In Up, the first ten minutes tell the life-story of the main character and his recently deceased wife, mostly without words except for their first couple encounters. And it is done with joy and heartbreaking sadness that makes me well up just thinking about it. The summation of their time together, and the things they never quite got around to doing because life got in the way. There's a small part that addresses their inability to have children, which I don't know if has ever been done so adroitly, directly, in any film much less an animated film. It's striking in its simplicity and grace, and fearlessness to "talk" about topics that are so very unusual for an animated film. The life you lead, moving on, letting go, growing old, lonliness, and long, lasting unashamedly unapologetic love. The adventure.
A film that is ostensibly about a man who floats his house away with balloons to fulfill a long-put-off promise, Up is shocking and surprisingly moving and wonderfully entertaining, fulfilling its own promise of its first ten minutes.
Star Trek at least had a lot of history going into it. I knew what was at stake, who the characters were, and the lasting impact of the situation. In Up, the first ten minutes tell the life-story of the main character and his recently deceased wife, mostly without words except for their first couple encounters. And it is done with joy and heartbreaking sadness that makes me well up just thinking about it. The summation of their time together, and the things they never quite got around to doing because life got in the way. There's a small part that addresses their inability to have children, which I don't know if has ever been done so adroitly, directly, in any film much less an animated film. It's striking in its simplicity and grace, and fearlessness to "talk" about topics that are so very unusual for an animated film. The life you lead, moving on, letting go, growing old, lonliness, and long, lasting unashamedly unapologetic love. The adventure.A film that is ostensibly about a man who floats his house away with balloons to fulfill a long-put-off promise, Up is shocking and surprisingly moving and wonderfully entertaining, fulfilling its own promise of its first ten minutes.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
It is rare in publishing that an author of fiction will have a story that enhances the fascination with his/her books, but Stieg Larsson is such a person. Larsson wrote three interwoven manuscripts as a way to pass the time on his daily work commute, and submitted them all as a package to a publisher in 2004. Months later, the author suffered a myocardial infarction and died at the age of 50. The first book in his crime-thriller trilogy was posthumously published and went on to become an international bestseller.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was initially titled “Men who hate women,” which was understandably changed to reflect one of its protagonist’s markings. The character of Lisbeth Salander, a skinny, waifish, angry, and hyper-intelligent punk, is a unique creation and destined to be neoclassic heroine of literature, if not cinema (the book as already been adapted to Swedish film, premiering at Cannes this year). All Larsson’s characters are richly drawn, flawed, but most of all real, as they inhabit the task of a middle-aged reporter’s quest to solve a 50-year old mystery.
The simultaneous satisfaction of having two more books with Larsson’s characters to read is tempered with the immediate sadness that there are only two more books. Larsson’s premature death has leant a fascinating layer of real-life tragedy to his series, one that will likely be told hand-in-hand with the praise that this book deserves. This circumstance strikes me as one that will make the series vastly more popular and enduring than without Larsson’s untimely demise.
So, if you are going to leave your mark, leave it well and with dramatic flair.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was initially titled “Men who hate women,” which was understandably changed to reflect one of its protagonist’s markings. The character of Lisbeth Salander, a skinny, waifish, angry, and hyper-intelligent punk, is a unique creation and destined to be neoclassic heroine of literature, if not cinema (the book as already been adapted to Swedish film, premiering at Cannes this year). All Larsson’s characters are richly drawn, flawed, but most of all real, as they inhabit the task of a middle-aged reporter’s quest to solve a 50-year old mystery.The simultaneous satisfaction of having two more books with Larsson’s characters to read is tempered with the immediate sadness that there are only two more books. Larsson’s premature death has leant a fascinating layer of real-life tragedy to his series, one that will likely be told hand-in-hand with the praise that this book deserves. This circumstance strikes me as one that will make the series vastly more popular and enduring than without Larsson’s untimely demise.
So, if you are going to leave your mark, leave it well and with dramatic flair.
Breathers
On the face of it, it’s the mash-up you’ve been waiting for, or not really waiting for, but thought, “why didn’t I think of that”? Breathers, by S.G. Browne, is a romantic comedy for Zombies, but it’s the tragic elements of the story that really buoy the tale to a memorable level.
In this world, zombies indeed have brains, but don’t eat people. Their role is to slowly decay, be a burden for their loved ones, and generally be relegated somewhere between slave status and a Jew in Germany circa 1940. They are resented for still being alive, can’t own property, and if college students occasionally dismember one for kicks, no one cares much. In short, it sucks to be a zombie.
Especially for the protagonist, who was reanimated (no one knows how or why some recently deceased reanimate) after a horrific car accident. Crippled and mute, Andy seeks out zombie group therapy classes, where he finds kindred spirits, a gorgeous zombie-girlfriend, and some surprising reanimation of his body parts after eating some special locally bottled “venison”. It doesn’t take much to realize that the venison isn’t exactly that, and Andy struggles with embracing his new love life, his new taste for flesh, and a taste of just having a “normal” life again.
One of Kurt Vonnegut’s rules of fiction is "Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them -- in order that the reader may see what they are made of." S.G. Browne holds very little back, weaving some resonating awful moments in to a story where you are rooting for the zombies to not so much fight back as bite back. I both loved and hated the end, which would have made Kurt proud, and still sticks with me months after reading the book. Good fun. Good read. Surprisingly soulful.
In this world, zombies indeed have brains, but don’t eat people. Their role is to slowly decay, be a burden for their loved ones, and generally be relegated somewhere between slave status and a Jew in Germany circa 1940. They are resented for still being alive, can’t own property, and if college students occasionally dismember one for kicks, no one cares much. In short, it sucks to be a zombie.Especially for the protagonist, who was reanimated (no one knows how or why some recently deceased reanimate) after a horrific car accident. Crippled and mute, Andy seeks out zombie group therapy classes, where he finds kindred spirits, a gorgeous zombie-girlfriend, and some surprising reanimation of his body parts after eating some special locally bottled “venison”. It doesn’t take much to realize that the venison isn’t exactly that, and Andy struggles with embracing his new love life, his new taste for flesh, and a taste of just having a “normal” life again.
One of Kurt Vonnegut’s rules of fiction is "Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them -- in order that the reader may see what they are made of." S.G. Browne holds very little back, weaving some resonating awful moments in to a story where you are rooting for the zombies to not so much fight back as bite back. I both loved and hated the end, which would have made Kurt proud, and still sticks with me months after reading the book. Good fun. Good read. Surprisingly soulful.
8.21.2009
Star Trek (11)
The new Star Trek film is not so much my favorite Star Trek film of all time as it is a goddamn triumph.
It's the only one I've seen in the theater three times, the only one I can recall crying in EACH of those times, and deserves to be hailed as a science-fiction achievement if for only two words: alternate universe.
Did Star Trek invent the theory of alternate universes? I don't know, but they appear in one form or another in a lot of the series' episodes. Some are more overt, like the famous "Mirror, Mirror" episode, and some are more subtle, seeing characters act, well, out-of-character due to one reason or another. It's been a staple of Star Trek lore but thus far hasn't been approached in film, until now.
In the first ten SECONDS of the film, we get a time-traveling anomaly that changes the Star Trek universe ten minutes later. (I'm not about spoiling, but I will admit that I teared up in the theater ALL THREE TIMES I saw the film during that sequence.) As a result of this ripple, this allows director J.J. Abrams and his team of crack writers to craft a new Star Trek alternate universe where he has license to play with the characters and situations and yet preserve the cannon of the other series and films. The characters (Spock deduces it, naturally) themselves realize this midway through the film, that this original anomaly has changed their time line forever. It's the moment that Star Trek was born for and was finally realized by J.J. Abrams. In one master storytelling stroke, J.J. was able to preserve the past, invigorate the present, and leave the entire future open to new and exciting possibilities. And for THAT, it's a damn triumph.
It doesn't hurt that the performances, pace, action, effects, music, and story are also tight. Even the historical winks -- the Kobayashi Maru sequence jumps to mind -- are fun, fan-orgasmic, and not so much interwoven to but also serve to drive the plot. Heck the trailer itself gives me goose-bumps. This is Star Trek for Star Wars fans, something that has danger, crackles, and is bold entertainment from start-to-finish. I kinda liked it.
It's the only one I've seen in the theater three times, the only one I can recall crying in EACH of those times, and deserves to be hailed as a science-fiction achievement if for only two words: alternate universe.
Did Star Trek invent the theory of alternate universes? I don't know, but they appear in one form or another in a lot of the series' episodes. Some are more overt, like the famous "Mirror, Mirror" episode, and some are more subtle, seeing characters act, well, out-of-character due to one reason or another. It's been a staple of Star Trek lore but thus far hasn't been approached in film, until now.In the first ten SECONDS of the film, we get a time-traveling anomaly that changes the Star Trek universe ten minutes later. (I'm not about spoiling, but I will admit that I teared up in the theater ALL THREE TIMES I saw the film during that sequence.) As a result of this ripple, this allows director J.J. Abrams and his team of crack writers to craft a new Star Trek alternate universe where he has license to play with the characters and situations and yet preserve the cannon of the other series and films. The characters (Spock deduces it, naturally) themselves realize this midway through the film, that this original anomaly has changed their time line forever. It's the moment that Star Trek was born for and was finally realized by J.J. Abrams. In one master storytelling stroke, J.J. was able to preserve the past, invigorate the present, and leave the entire future open to new and exciting possibilities. And for THAT, it's a damn triumph.
It doesn't hurt that the performances, pace, action, effects, music, and story are also tight. Even the historical winks -- the Kobayashi Maru sequence jumps to mind -- are fun, fan-orgasmic, and not so much interwoven to but also serve to drive the plot. Heck the trailer itself gives me goose-bumps. This is Star Trek for Star Wars fans, something that has danger, crackles, and is bold entertainment from start-to-finish. I kinda liked it.
Sinestro Corps War
I don't often delve into the DC Comics realm (I've always been a Marvel kinda guy), but I'll make the occasional exception for stories that interest me. The Sinestro Corps War a two-volume series that captures that comic book run where Sinestro recruits his own corps to instill fear and kill all the Green Lanterns he can, and change the rules of the GLC (Green Lantern Corps) forever, is one of those.
Geoff Johns, who already has attained a reputation as one of the best comics writers of the 21st century, weaves a tale that is rife with death, drama, and spendorous action. Better still, Johns writes for the comics fan who hasn't been necessarily following the histories of all the characters involved, and makes you feel like you can drop in and be a part of it.
The series definitely has that galactic-implication feel to it, and the story delivers. Well worth my few bucks.
Geoff Johns, who already has attained a reputation as one of the best comics writers of the 21st century, weaves a tale that is rife with death, drama, and spendorous action. Better still, Johns writes for the comics fan who hasn't been necessarily following the histories of all the characters involved, and makes you feel like you can drop in and be a part of it.
The series definitely has that galactic-implication feel to it, and the story delivers. Well worth my few bucks.
X-Men Origins: Wolverine
I came into X-Men Origins: Wolverine with trepidation. The last X-Men film (The Last Stand) was not my favorite film. It's not because I generally like Bryan Singer's work, or that I thought X2 was one of the best superhero films to grace the screen, but that X3 felt pieced together as a showcase for powers and superheros rather than plot and story. When you parade your characters out with the appearance of having them have a series of extended cameos, it appeals more to fans who just want to see live-action representations of the characters rather than fans who also want to see them have some kind of arc or logical involvement in the story.
Right from the beginning, when we see Team X assault a complex, they function as a laundry-list execution. Each hero is ticked of by name and given a special stage of entry to use their powers exclusively, while the others just sit around and appraise or have a cappuccino. This overt introductory storytelling is as implausible as adamantium claws, but that's only a minor irritation. It is what it is.
Later in the film, Wolverine attacks a helicopter and brings it down. As he is walking away, the helicopter explodes, and you have Wolverine (Hugh Jackman owns the character, by the way) fully silhouetted in a fiery frame. And I laughed, because the first thing that sprang to mind was MacGruber.
Hair flying, explosions in the background, a caricature of itself. It is what it is.
And ultimately, it is an entertaining film, serviceable, but hamstrung by writing and a weak director. Good, yes, but could have been a lot better. I saw it in the theater, but I won't be seeing it in my super-exclusive-awesome DVD collection.
Right from the beginning, when we see Team X assault a complex, they function as a laundry-list execution. Each hero is ticked of by name and given a special stage of entry to use their powers exclusively, while the others just sit around and appraise or have a cappuccino. This overt introductory storytelling is as implausible as adamantium claws, but that's only a minor irritation. It is what it is.Later in the film, Wolverine attacks a helicopter and brings it down. As he is walking away, the helicopter explodes, and you have Wolverine (Hugh Jackman owns the character, by the way) fully silhouetted in a fiery frame. And I laughed, because the first thing that sprang to mind was MacGruber.
Hair flying, explosions in the background, a caricature of itself. It is what it is.
And ultimately, it is an entertaining film, serviceable, but hamstrung by writing and a weak director. Good, yes, but could have been a lot better. I saw it in the theater, but I won't be seeing it in my super-exclusive-awesome DVD collection.
World War Z
Before I read World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, I can say that I've never read a zombie book before, and only seen two (excellent) films, 28 Days Later and Shaun of the Dead. I would count the bunny version of Night of the Living Dead, but somehow I don't think that applies. Suffice to say, my knowledge of the zombie genre has been limited at best, and while I don't seek it out as entertainment, generally find it pretty interesting. But only enough to see two movies in my 38 years.
World War ZMy interest was peaked by a Cinematical.com mention in an article (from somewhere in 2008) that Brad Pitt's production company was interested in buying the movie rights. I read the brief description by the author and decided to give the book a read (this is exactly how I got interested in reading Hyperion and Let the Right One In). The book turned out to be incredibly creepy, moving, and riveting. A serious book about zombies that overrun the world, and a well-thought-out story of how this would affect all different aspects of society. This kind of thing is what I find a lot of films don't really delve into, the thing you don't think about.
Cinematical posted an update to the film status on their site. The author of the piece posts a spot-on encapsulation of what makes the book special:
World War ZMy interest was peaked by a Cinematical.com mention in an article (from somewhere in 2008) that Brad Pitt's production company was interested in buying the movie rights. I read the brief description by the author and decided to give the book a read (this is exactly how I got interested in reading Hyperion and Let the Right One In). The book turned out to be incredibly creepy, moving, and riveting. A serious book about zombies that overrun the world, and a well-thought-out story of how this would affect all different aspects of society. This kind of thing is what I find a lot of films don't really delve into, the thing you don't think about.Cinematical posted an update to the film status on their site. The author of the piece posts a spot-on encapsulation of what makes the book special:
- The first thing Brooks does is set ground rules. Once infected and undead, zombies are essentially monomaniacal brains unmoored from brains' normal contingencies – e.g. a pumping heart, a digestive system, oxygen. Until the brain itself is destroyed, it will stupidly, relentlessly pursue human flesh, using whatever parts of the original body remain at its disposal. Zombies move slowly, with arms – if available – raised toward their target. If a zombie finds prey, it will moan; if a nearby zombie hears a moan, it will move toward the source and let out a moan itself. You see how this could escalate.
Then Brooks considers what a worldwide zombie epidemic would actually look like, and ends up at some scary and eerily plausible conclusions. Israel, ever vigilant and pragmatic, is the first to take the threat seriously, voluntarily quarantining itself and – we gather – escaping the worst of what would befall the rest of the world. The States, like most other first world nations, spends far too long in denial – and by the time reality could no longer be denied, the best scenario became to grab as many people as possible and fortify in the Rockies. Survival would require unbelievable sacrifice on a mass scale – as you read, keep an eye out for something called the "Redeker Plan," a truly terrifying idea that the novel treats with chilling matter-of-factness.
The "real-world" implications World War Z considers don't stop at the geopolitical. Chapters dwell on the economic, military, personal and psychological consequences of the zombie crisis. Deep down, I know how silly that is and so do you – but the book does not. That's its genius. Brooks also wrote The Zombie Survival Guide, a cute little effort that was similarly obsessed with details and specificity, but its tongue was planted firmly in its cheek. World War Z actually asks what the world would look like if the dead started to rise. And then it begins to answer the question. It's fascinating, thought-provoking, frightening in the sheer vastness of the events it depicts (there is an amazing description of what the epidemic looked like seen from a space station), and ultimately even uplifting.
4.05.2009
Penn State - NIT Champions
Thursday night, Penn State defeated Baylor 69-63 to win its first ever NIT championship.
I could not be happier for these kids. Penn State has been long known for its football program; basketball has just never even gotten close to that level. A few weeks back I was livid that our team didn't get an invite to the NCAA tournament. (We were robbed, end of story.) But now I'm glad that we didn't get in. With the way our team had been playing, I think we could have made a deep, Cinderella run, but the odds were against it.
The NIT has gotten a lot of "junior varsity" ribbing in recent years because, frankly, you are only in it if you didn't get into the Big Dance. Does that mean, as the joke goes, that you are "#66"? Please. We beat Florida on the road (where they were 18-1 this year), Notre Dame (Big East) and Baylor (Big 12).
What does it mean if you got an invite to the Big Dance and got beat on day one? Are you going to hang that #4 seed one-and-done banner on your ceiling?
And that's not how I wanted these kids, particularly the three big seniors -- Cornley, Morrissey, and Pringle -- to go out. They came to a nothing program (Pringle was a junior transfer, but no pulling away cred for what he brought to the team) that suffered through repeated seasons were we couldn't even muster a .500 record. We didn't even SNIFF the NIT.
Cornley himself played with a partially separated shoulder through most of the tournament, and garnered MVP honors. That kid has heart, and I can think of nothing better than to reward his and this team's effort with a NATIONAL tournament championship. (You couldn't have storybooked the seniors' performance better -- Pringle and Morrissey both had excellent games and Morrissey even literally bled to get the job done.)
There are 220 teams that couldn't even get an invite to the NIT. And you can't tell me that winning a 32-team invitational isn't an achievement. Hell, on the way, we even set a season record for wins. Previous to this, Penn State's biggest achievement was beating #2 North Carolina in 2001 to get to the NCAA Sweet Sixteen. (Also known as the greatest day of my life.) But this is a friggin' national championship. It is a banner. It is a t-shirt that I'll own. It's a praise-worthy career-ending crown for years of blood and sweat and tears that were largely unsung.
The best encapsulation of what this has meant for the program is what Jamelle Cornley talked about toward the end of the below embedded highlight:
I could not be happier for these kids. Penn State has been long known for its football program; basketball has just never even gotten close to that level. A few weeks back I was livid that our team didn't get an invite to the NCAA tournament. (We were robbed, end of story.) But now I'm glad that we didn't get in. With the way our team had been playing, I think we could have made a deep, Cinderella run, but the odds were against it.
The NIT has gotten a lot of "junior varsity" ribbing in recent years because, frankly, you are only in it if you didn't get into the Big Dance. Does that mean, as the joke goes, that you are "#66"? Please. We beat Florida on the road (where they were 18-1 this year), Notre Dame (Big East) and Baylor (Big 12). What does it mean if you got an invite to the Big Dance and got beat on day one? Are you going to hang that #4 seed one-and-done banner on your ceiling?
And that's not how I wanted these kids, particularly the three big seniors -- Cornley, Morrissey, and Pringle -- to go out. They came to a nothing program (Pringle was a junior transfer, but no pulling away cred for what he brought to the team) that suffered through repeated seasons were we couldn't even muster a .500 record. We didn't even SNIFF the NIT.
Cornley himself played with a partially separated shoulder through most of the tournament, and garnered MVP honors. That kid has heart, and I can think of nothing better than to reward his and this team's effort with a NATIONAL tournament championship. (You couldn't have storybooked the seniors' performance better -- Pringle and Morrissey both had excellent games and Morrissey even literally bled to get the job done.)There are 220 teams that couldn't even get an invite to the NIT. And you can't tell me that winning a 32-team invitational isn't an achievement. Hell, on the way, we even set a season record for wins. Previous to this, Penn State's biggest achievement was beating #2 North Carolina in 2001 to get to the NCAA Sweet Sixteen. (Also known as the greatest day of my life.) But this is a friggin' national championship. It is a banner. It is a t-shirt that I'll own. It's a praise-worthy career-ending crown for years of blood and sweat and tears that were largely unsung.
The best encapsulation of what this has meant for the program is what Jamelle Cornley talked about toward the end of the below embedded highlight:- "When I came here four years ago, I really wanted to make it a better place when I left... We had close to 30 buses come here and support us [tonight in Madison Square Garden]; when I first got here we couldn't get three buses to come across campus. So right now I'm just enjoying the moment."