Review: "BLADE RUNNER" (1982)

I was recently discussing the classic science fiction film "Blade Runner" with a friend. And since I had typed up some of my thoughts on the film, I came up with a cunning plan to make those thoughts work double-time and put them into a blog post. Before I start, I just want to say that this is a very spoiler-y review. This post is for those of you who watched it and left wondering if you missed something. If you haven't seen it yet, DON'T READ ANY FURTHER. Get thee to a blu-ray player right now. And please do not watch the repugnant theatrical version with the voice overs by Harrison Ford and a "happily ever after" ending. That is not the right way to see it. Speaking of which, I wouldn't recommend watching this film during the day with popcorn and candy bars. The best viewing experience would be at night. With the lights off. With a refrigerated box of Chinese takeout. And a can of Coca-Cola.


Anyway.

So we're shown a bleak future. I wouldn't say 'dystopian' because in pop culture that implies that there is a malevolent government or an overarching lie to a repressed society that tells them that their situation is actually ideal. There is no such lie in Blade Runner. The inhabitants of 2019 Los Angeles all seem to know their life is miserable, and the only thing perhaps 'deceiving' them are advertisement billboards. But 'dystopia' in Greek basically means "bad place" so technically the world of Blade Runner fits the bill.

This bleak future is beautifully photographed by Jordan Cronenweth, using deep, dark shadows and blinding, flaring light in stark contrast. The visual palette brings about a whole new definition of the word "Neo-noir" - inspired of course by the film noirs of the 1940s, and in turn inspiring countless other science fiction films after this to be shot in a similar manner. The images are complimented perfectly by the sonorous synthetic dulcet tones of Vangelis - there's really no other soundtrack quite like it.

We meet Rick Deckard, a 'blade runner' - which means he hunts down rogue replicants (androids) that look perfectly human, and 'retires' them. He seems to hate his bosses, and he keeps dreaming of a unicorn. Weird, but more on that later. After testing Rachel, a replicant that thinks she is a human (she's even had memories implanted to convince her she had a childhood), things start to get complicated. Rachel asks the tough questions - "Have you ever retired a human by mistake?" and "Have you ever run the empathy test on yourself?" bringing about an interesting point - Deckard is cold, calculating, emotionless for the entire film, whereas Rachel the replicant cries and shows various other emotions. Rachel plays the piano beautifully, and all Deckard can do is give us the coldest, most emotionally void make-out scene in movie history. As we are shown the other replicants Deckard is hunting for, this contrast becomes even more apparent. The humans in this story seem to be less alive than the robots.


The scene in Tyrell's (the creator of the replicants) home, at first glance seems to emphasize a deist worldview (a creator god who has cruelly left the world to itself). But I don't think that this is the parallel to draw here. Instead, it seems to illuminate the horror of having a creator who ISN'T divine - or eternal in any way. Having a human creator means Roy Batty's pleas fall on powerless, if not deaf, ears. The proof his creator is flawed? Simple. Roy crushes him to death. Their creator is dead. Mortal. For these creations, this existence is a tragic one.

As Deckard's hunt for Roy Batty and Pris turns into him running for his life, Roy points out that Deckard is being both irrational AND unsportsmanlike. Our protagonist is shown in multiple ways to be imperfect. Fallen. Mired in human nature. Again, the replicants seem to be better off without many of the flaws that are inherent in humans. The replicants are mostly shown to be vicious, and often crazed killers. But once Deckard stops hunting Roy, once he's hanging for his life, and about to fall to his death, Roy reaches down and saves him - delivering a soliloquy about the things he's seen.

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... Time to die."

Gaff, the policeman who realizes Deckard has fallen in love with Rachel, says at the end, "It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does?" Mortality is something both human and replicant must grapple with. Then, at the very end, he leaves an intricate origami message behind - a unicorn. Is it possible that Deckard's dream of the unicorn that we saw earlier was implanted, just like Rachel's childhood memories? Could Deckard himself be a replicant?

What does it mean to be human? We all have to deal with our own self-perception at one point or another. And since none of us remember the moment of our birth, there is no way of being absolutely certain where we came from, or who created us. We all have to take whatever answers we arrive at on faith. So the question is, are you robotically going through the motions, or are you living? Are you going through life with vitality? A sense of wonder at beauty - at things like C-beams glittering in the dark near the Tannhauser gate? Do you care for people? Do you love? I have to say, since 1968 when the original story was written, these questions have only become more and more relevant.

A Man, a Plan, and a Red Hunting Hat: THE CATCHER IN THE RYE

"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."

Everyone knows growing up sucks. Even though it can be fleetingly enjoyable at times, there is an inevitability to the pain that comes with it. And "The Catcher in the Rye" stands as a testament to that.

The first thing you notice when you read J.D. Salinger's most celebrated novel is the prose. The narrator, Holden Caulfield, is telling you a story about himself and he's not going to dress it up for you. You get the feeling he's someone who knows the state of the world, and he's going to shoot straight with you. But it soon becomes apparent that you are not seeing the world as it is, rather through the lens of our lovable misanthropic friend. Holden has gone from prep school to prep school, and now he's flunking four of his five subjects - and has just been given the boot out of Pencey. But as subjective as the narrator is, the way he describes the world around him is, in a sense, very real. He wanders off on rabbit trails, he leaves out what he wants to, and he interprets everything the way he sees it. It's not purposefully deceptive - it's just Holden Caulfield, unfiltered. Anyway. I'm not going to call this a review, that would be too phony to assume that I am now an authority on the book. But to sum up some of my thoughts, I've titled this piece, "A Man, a Plan, and a Red Hunting Hat."

A Man. Holden is in the transition stage between childhood and adulthood. And it sucks. Everything about the adult world is phony, and he doesn't want to be a part of it. But he can't keep himself from growing up, in fact in many ways he already is an adult. His encounter with his younger sister Phoebe towards the end shows us that. The irony is that he is becoming (and already is) many of the things he hates about the adult world.

A Plan - or, yet again, the lack of one. Like Dustin Hoffman's character in The Graduate, Holden is disillusioned with the 'road to success' and even though the adults in the story give him sound advice to succeeding into adulthood, they are all sacrifices of integrity - that phoniness he hates so much. He knows the path to adulthood corrupts his innocence. But ironically, it's apparent that he's already been 'corrupted'.

The Red Hunting Hat is an awesome visual in this story. He keeps taking it on and off. He's proud of it, he lets it define him, yet he won't let people see him wearing it. It's just like the ways we grow up into our own identity - yet in doing so, people around you will find it strange - they may even scoff if your identity does not match with theirs. Then we become both simultaneously proud and embarrassed of our own unique identity - and yet that's what an identity should be; unique.

The title of the book is taken from a song - to Holden, these words sum up what he wants to be - someone who can save innocent children from the peril of adulthood. Something it seems apparent that he has already lost. But Holden finds out that the song isn't actually about a "Catcher in the Rye". If you look into the song's meaning, ironically it's about willingly losing one's innocence and purity - just the thing that Holden shuns. In the end, the story of Holden Caulfield is ultimately a tragedy - much like Don Quixote - a lost soul in a lost world, dreaming an impossible dream and fighting an unbeatable foe. Everyone has to grow up eventually, and what Holden really lacks is maturity.

"Pretend that you owe me nothing
and all the world is green.
We can bring back the old days again
when all the world is green."
~ Tom Waits

The Silver Chair

"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I--could I--would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.

It was a rather dull day, and for almost no reason at all, I found myself picking up The Silver Chair, by C.S. Lewis. It's the fourth book in the Narnia series, and ever since my mother read them to me as a child, it's been my favorite of the seven. The reason why is rather elusive, and I've never been able to explain it fully. Something just clicked about everything inside of its covers, and I savored every word, even more so than the others (which are all also excellent books).

So as I opened the pages again, for the first time in over ten years, the feelings I had when I first heard it came washing back over me. And what surprised me was just how well I remembered it. I could still see the images my mind's eye conjured when I was young, and the characters are just as real and vivid as they were before. I could even remember where I was when I first had it read to me.

Nostalgia aside, the first thing that strikes you about Lewis' work is the simple beauty of his prose. Every word feels perfectly chosen and placed. This man knew what he was doing. As the words roll off your tongue you realize with what great inefficiency and inadequacy that you normally speak. Of course, if we took the time to perfectly form our sentences to say what we will with beauty and elegance, we'd rarely say anything at all. Maybe that, too, would be an improvement?

"Will you promise not to--do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls? she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear," said Jill, taking another step nearer. "I suppose I must go look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.

This particular scene always stood out to me, and the way Aslan is introduced to Jill Pole (or rather, the other way around) is particularly iconic. I remember feeling that rush of fear that Jill was feeling, even though I knew who he was from the previous books.

This is something that the movie versions have NEVER gotten right, is the way Aslan's sheer power instills terror in the hearts of those who behold him. Instead, the movies turn him into a soft, lovable lion that you just want to be friends with. This is NOT the Aslan in the books. In one of my favorite lines from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (conveniently cut from the film), Mr. Beaver says, "Safe? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

Anyway. Soap box aside, we now come to the Task that Aslan gives to Jill, which is how we know that we are in for an adventure:

"And now hear your task. Far from here in the land of Narnia there lives an aged king who is sad because he has no prince of his blood to be king after him. He has no heir because his only son was stolen from him many years ago, and no one in Narnia knows where that prince went or whether he is still alive. But he is. I lay on you this command, that you seek this prince until either you have found him and brought him to his father's house, or else died in the attempt, or else gone back to your own world."
"How, please?" said Jill.
"I will tell you, child," said the Lion. "These are the signs by which I will guide you in your quest. First; as soon as the boy Eustace sets foot in Narnia, he will meet an old and dear friend. He must greet that friend at once; if he does, you will both have good help. Second; you must journey out of Narnia to the north till you come to the ruined city of the ancient giants. Third; you shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells you. Fourth; you will know the lost prince (if you find him) by this, that he will be the first person you have met in your travels who will ask you to do something in my name, in the name of Aslan."

There it is, pretty much the entire story laid out for us right there in the second chapter. The quest is quite clearly presented, and now the audience knows what they are in for. Now all the reader must do is sit back and watch the plan go completely and horribly wrong. It wouldn't be a story, otherwise!

I'm not going to go into the rest of the book here, I don't have the time for that, but I wanted to share these little snippets with you, A) if you have read the book already, then to remind you of how good it is, or B) if you haven't read the book yet, to encourage you to do so. If you don't get it, read it to a kid, they certainly will.

But I have a feeling that these books work for all ages. Sure, they were written as children's stories, but they carry that kind of maturity that kids have that adults seem to think kids aren't capable of understanding. I first had these books read to me when I was 7, and they not only made perfect sense to me, they stuck with me and were a big influence on the way I grew up. I would recommend them for any child of any age. Even the grown-up ones.

Review: "Thor" (2011)

Ever since Marvel Studios has been tying together it's movie franchise in Iron Man, I've been intrigued. Sure, sometimes it felt like overkill, like in Iron Man 2, but the idea of continuing plot threads between their different superhero movies beefs up their continuity in a unique way and allows them to build a world that's much larger than any one superhero, much like their comics. This is a brilliant move on their part. But when I first heard about doing a Thor movie, I must admit I was skeptical. I've never seen the comics of Thor, and the idea of a superhero who was the Norse god of thunder seemed more than a little silly. I mean, he wears a big cape and throws a hammer that flies back to him like a boomerang? You've got to be kidding, right, Marvel?

The first trailer didn't ease my many doubts - there he was, a big beefy guy in a silly-looking cape and armor running around doing over-the-top things. The one thing that kept my hopes up was the fact that it was directed by Kenneth Branagh, who is a tried and true force to be reckoned with, based on the films I've seen of his. The style visible in the trailers seemed operatic, which had potential to be unique, if pulled off well. All in all, I went into the theater on my guard, and ready to be disappointed.


The film starts off on Earth, and you meet Natalie Portman's character, Jane Foster. She's studying atmospheric conditions in an RV that's been pimped out for science. Suddenly, what appears to be an Einstein-Rosen Bridge (a wormhole) opens up in the sky, and before they know it, they've run over an alien with their RV. Then things get crazy, and we get a history (narrated by the sonorous Anthony Hopkins) about a race of aliens that have protected Earth in the past, who were so powerful that the Norsemen saw them as gods. We are suddenly transported to the realm of Asgard - and its impressive how the visual effects have captured this place - and like my favorite alien worlds in science fiction, you get a sense of culture just from the city and the buildings, the sculptures and the art that this society has crafted. We fly into the pipe-organ shaped castle and get introduced to Odin and his sons - an introduction that promises family issues of Shakespearean proportion.


From here on out, my doubts are gone. The execution is pitch-perfect: grounded verisimilitude, epic visuals, high drama, and even humor are all woven into this story in a natural way that allows you to immerse yourself in this world. By the end of the film, you get off the roller coaster never having felt cheated or jerked around too much. Kenneth Branagh does not let you down.


The film isn't flawless, admittedly there are a few issues I have here and there. First of all, by nature of the main character's name itself, we run into the problem of godlike powers. You're never really sure what Thor can or can't do when he's in control of all his powers. His magic hammer flies, spins, and dances through bad guys, and so the problem is that it's hard to know if he's ever in real danger. Fortunately, he spends the majority of the film without his powers, so this doesn't stay a problem for long. And even when he's super-Thor, there's still enough there to keep you interested and connected. But like Superman, the danger is there, and can be a problem if not kept in check.

Darcy, Jane's friend is mostly there for exposition and (semi-effective) comic relief, and is probably the weakest link in the film. Fortunately, she's never given too much screen time, and she does offer a bit of perspective to the film of the 'normal person' so not all is lost. Thor's epic friends are not painted very deeply, but they are so much fun to watch you forget that quickly. They are loyal to Thor, they've got style, and they want to help him, and that's enough to make you root for them.


I rather liked the way they dealt with S.H.I.E.L.D in this film. Unlike Iron Man 2, they feel organic to the story, and I enjoy watching Phil Coulson smirk as he sees through the fake I.D. but lets the heroes do their thing anyways. Marvel universe is proving to be one to watch, and I must say, I'm looking forward to Captain America this summer, and I cannot wait for Joss Whedon's Avengers film next year.

Jane Foster (the love interest) is a good character, but still feels less developed than one might have liked. But she still has plenty of good moments. The thing to remember is that this story is not about her, it's about Thor. It's hard to remember this, because Natalie Portman does a great job at playing a scientist faced with the injustice of getting her work confiscated. It's easy to feel sorry for her, and almost forget that this movie is about Thor, so don't get distracted! But even despite the small weaknesses here and there, the movie as a whole is still a solidly crafted piece of entertainment. For as over-the-top as it is, each moment is still plumbed for appropriate emotional weight and human connection. The characters do not become cartoons, even when being animated by visual effects artists.


All in all, "Thor" is a solid superhero film, and even with a concept as ridiculous as Thor, Kenneth Branagh does it the right way. If you haven't seen any other of his films, I would highly recommend checking them out, they are well worth your time. Hamlet and Henry V especially.

At the beginning of the film, even though Thor is fully grown and looks more manly than Chuck Norris, the thing to note is that at heart, he is still a boy. This is a story about a fool who becomes wise, a prideful warrior who learns what it means to care about something other than war. He must face losing his power, losing his friends, betrayal within his family, and falling in love, but when he comes out on the other side, he has become a man.

Review: "The Dark Crystal" (1982)

When it comes to film and entertainment, Jim Henson and Frank Oz are two of my favoritest people on this earth. And before you tell me that 'favoritest' isn't a word, I shall just inform you that neither was "Muppet" before Jim and Frank came around. But their combined contributions (The Muppet Show, the character of Yoda, Death at a Funeral {2007}, the several Muppet movies, The Storyteller... etc, etc.) are a veritable smorgasbord of delight and goodness. So the idea of a dark fantastical myth from them, made entirely with puppets, automatically screams of genius.


And as the film starts, the experience does not disappoint. You are told the story of this world, and the myth unfolds from there. There are the dark and evil Skeksis, the banished yet wise Mystics, and the endangered Gelfling that has a bigger fate that he realizes. This is a short film (90 mins), but the scope is built on epic proportions.


You are soon entranced by the evocative visuals - Henson's and Oz' use of color and scale are unparalleled, and they pull off shots with elegance and texture that we could only dream of seeing in movies these days. The dialogue is mostly on-the-nose and even laughably cheesy at times, but it's easy to overlook because the world is so tactile, the visuals so sophisticated, that you can just swim in it for hours and never want to leave. The music and sound design, when combined, have a profound effect. The puppets (of which there are hundreds), even though you KNOW they are puppets, have a startling life to them that no CGI has ever been able to capture since, and it really is a paramount of beauty to behold. As a warning, however, I'll caution that many sequences in this film are creepy, intense, and the evil depicted is rather disturbing, and I would advise against showing this film to children.


The story continues in excellent mythic fashion, and many scenes seem to feel familiar, as if they were taken from Lord of the Rings, Return of the Jedi, or Harry Potter. But then you realize that this movie came out in 1982, before any of those films came out, and all you can do is be amazed at how influential this little film was on our concept of modern fantasy. The use of color in the film alone is unsurpassed, yet mimicked and echoed in films everywhere today.


The climax reaches an apex as the final confrontation between good and evil comes to a head. And thematically so far the film has been awesome - ideas of life, death, and rebirth - tied to the connectivity of nature, and best of all, a clear division of good and evil, which is refreshing amidst the slew of 'gray area' films these days. And to elaborate, the awesome thing here is that the Skeksis are truly portrayed as PURE evil. It's their very essence to be violent, gluttonous, vile, and deceptive. We're talking about proper good and evil. This is not just popcorn entertainment. This is a thinking movie, that engages you with philosophical ideas. But unfortunately, there is one, huge, major flaw. And I am sorry to say, that in order to hear more, you are going to have to embark into the SPOILER section of this review.



SPOILERS BELOW! If you have not seen this film, please read no further. Or, rather, please do, but only if you don't mind hearing the ending.

Okay. Where was I? Oh yes, the climactic battle of good and evil. How refreshing... until it is revealed that the way the conflict gets resolved is by "the good" (Mystics) COMBINING WITH "the evil" (Skeksis) to become one creature! Hold the phone. Yes, you heard me. Combining. Good merges with Evil, and THAT'S the resolution to the conflict. They mutter something about splitting and past mistakes, and then 'transcend into the ether' and we are supposed to shout "hooray" and be happy? This is where the whole thing devolves into a load of Hippie bull crap. There's nothing more hollow than saying that the solution to the conflict of good and evil is for them to become the same thing. This is exactly the 'gray area' nonsense that we all thought this film was avoiding in the first place.
Am I just asserting my own world view and being closed-minded? Well if we can't agree that pure evil is evil, and ought to be crushed, then what can we do? If we truly believed that, our laws, culture, and entire world would be thrown to the wind. It saddens me to see this film take this turn, because it was doing so swell up to this point. It did everything right until it did everything wrong. And to see this coming from Henson and Oz makes me even sadder.
The trouble is, no matter how well a film is executed, if it's core is rotten, it really stinks up the whole experience. So the film is a very mixed bag for me. I can enjoy the parts that are beautifully artistic, and appreciate the sheer craftsmanship that went into this film, but when I am reminded of the ending, I cannot leave without a bad taste in my mouth.

The fact is, some films are trash to begin with, and it's no surprise that they fail to reason out an idea to a good conclusion, or fail to illuminate some truth or even merely resolve a conflict the right way. But with other films, and I am talking specifically about The Dark Crystal here, it is very sad to see such beautiful art get squandered on a poor ending. It really is tragic. That said, I still really, really love the other 85 minutes of the movie. And I always will.

Review: "Hanna" (2011)

"Hanna" just came out in theaters. Directed by Joe Wright (Atonement), it is an action thriller about how much it sucks to be created to be a killing machine. Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) is literally that - a genetically altered human machine, brought up and trained by her father (Eric Bana) for one purpose - to kill a CIA agent named Marissa Viegler. From the snow-covered house in the forest where Hanna is raised to the Big Bad Wolf parallels, fairy-tale imagery is everywhere.

"You're dead." says her father, who has snuck up on Hanna while she is gutting a deer. "I've killed you." With a feral scream, Hanna attacks her father, just as he's trained her to do. We immediately see that her life has been nothing but training, training, and training. Yet there's no sadness for the 'normal' life she could have had - because she's never known anything else. Finally, as her father instructs, she presses a button on a radio transmitter that will tell Marissa where she is - She's ready.


What unfolds from there is a terrifying display of what Hanna is capable of - she quickly and brutally destroys security guards 3 times her size, and escapes from a secure CIA facility as if she were swatting a fly. But the film really starts to get interesting when Hanna happens upon a British tourist family - and with some surprising moments of levity, gets her first exposure to 'the real world.'


There's a lot more to this film than meets the eye at first glance. It's a very well shot action film, and an intense emotional mood piece. It's a tone poem of violence but also a fairy-tale inspired journey - a quest for freedom. Marissa turns into the wicked witch or the evil stepmother and her hired hand becomes the Big Bad Wolf - and you realized that Hanna is not going to get this freedom until the wicked witch is dead.


I would be doing a disservice if I were not to mention the Chemical Brothers' musical contribution here. Eerie and bleak at times, pulsing and intensely rhythmic at others - yet beautiful at the moments of wonder and joy as hanna learns about the world - of simple humanity, of music, and of friendship. It sounds unlike any soundtrack you've heard before.

From what I've read, director Joe Wright wanted to deconstruct the idea of young girls in action heroine roles - so he created a film that isn't exploitative and isn't 'sexy' and instead went for the character story. It's violent, it's intense, but it never becomes vulgar or mindless. It's not created for kids, and if you have a weak stomach, you may not want to subject yourself to this experience. But it is not sensationalized and the characters are true, and they are explored for their humanity. The result is rather beautiful.



SPOILERS BELOW! If you have not seen this film, please read no further.

I feel like I must add this, because I was off-put by it at first, and I'd like to offer what I've gleaned from thinking on it.

At first I was surprised at the final shot of the film - and the oddness of the smash-cut to the title, once again. The first obvious thing that you think of is the call-back to the opening title, when Hanna kills the deer. You could take that to mean that the hunter (Marissa) has become the hunted. It's a shocking sensation to see, but that's actually a good thing - the sight of a young girl killing without emotion ALWAYS SHOULD BE shocking to us. That means the film is doing a good job.

But back to the odd title placement. If you think about it, that title only appears in two places - both of them at the immediate point of death as Hanna kills her target. The gunshot and the projection of her name over blood red background creates an interesting connection - killing IS her identity. She was created to be a killing machine, and even her final act, an act that will essentially give her her freedom, is an act of murder. But it's not sensationalized, not glorified. It is not only done out of self-preservation, it's done with empathy. "I just missed your heart." She says, and politely puts an end to the suffering of her victim.

You know, for comedy.

I am proud to announce that 'Best Laid Plans', the improvised sitcom that I've been working on over the course of the last year or so, is now available for viewing on Hulu. We are right up there with all the other shows, it feels so official!


Check it out here.