Like it's predecessor, Catching Fire is another briskly paced, polished adventure film that makes you think, but not too hard.
Starting shortly after the end of the 74th annual (and titular) Hunger Games, Panem is on the brink of revolution thanks to Katniss Everdeen's (Jennifer Lawrence) defiant act of self preservation. As the masses rally around Katniss, President Snow (Donald Sutherland) plots to clandestinely eliminate the reluctant symbol of the rebellion. The new Head Gamemaker (Philip Seymour Hoffman) hatches a plan to hold a tournament of champions where previous victors will take the place of the usually random tributes. If it all goes according to plan, Katniss and a slew of other victors die along with the threat they pose to President Snow.
The inspired casting of Catching Fire is once again a strength of the film. In the sequel we are treated to more of Donald Sutherland, who plays an ostensibly avuncular but ultimately sinister character as well as anybody. Philip Seymour Hoffman is excellent as the Gamemaker that just might have ulterior motives, and Woody Harrelson is charming as the endlessly tormented Haymitch Abernathy.
The film also succeeds by emphasizing brewing revolution, which at this point is more interesting than the Hunger Games. The biting satire of America's celebrity culture was a delightful revelation, though it was a little too much on the nose to come across as absurd.
This film is many things, being worth your time and money are two of them.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Unnecessary nitpicking: Jurassic Park Edition
Doctor Allen Grant and Company are dead to rights at the end of Jurassic Park. They are surrounded in the main lobby of the park by three velociraptors and their situation is so hopeless that not even the overwhelming sexuality of Jeff Goldblum can protect them. Mere milliseconds away from being mercilessly ripped to pieces, the resident Tyrannosaurus Rex makes a special appearance and saves the day. The ending is exciting, entertaining, and I find myself unsatisfied with it.
Before I get to my complaint, let me state that the ending to Jurassic Park serves its purpose very well. The film is a summer blockbuster that exists to be a cinematic roller coaster. A good ride has a lot of thrills and unexpected twists, and by that measure Jurassic Park delivers. Moreover, the T-Rex and raptors were well-established menaces, so to deprive the audience of a showdown between the two would be a form of cinematic malpractice. Granted, I believed when I first saw the movie at age 8 (and to this day) that the raptors would have used their superior intellect and hauntingly calm killer instinct to win the battle, but that's getting off topic. The point is that the T-Rex going from menace to hero while posing for an iconic shot is what people paid to see. In that sense the ending is perfect. However, in a more insightful sense, the ending is not perfect. Allow me to explain.
In the absence of parody or hammy self-awareness, deus ex machina endings tend to be sloppy. Jurassic Park is no exception. It's vividly established that the T-Rex makes a lot of noise when it moves. This is iconically illustrated when the glass of water ripples in the car before the T-Rex appears to wreak havoc. The ripples function to create tremendous tension by alerting you of the ravenous prehistoric giant lurking just out of sight. Each ripple and concurrent boom is like the tick of a time bomb you are helpless to disarm. Being big and loud is what the T-Rex is all about, so why is it able to silently sneak into the lobby at the end? My complaint is that the success of the ending hinged on a character becoming something completely different from what it is, in this case an eight ton beast becoming stealth.
This lack consistency with characteristics of the T-Rex is ridiculous and I will not allow it to go unnoticed, hence the post.
Before I get to my complaint, let me state that the ending to Jurassic Park serves its purpose very well. The film is a summer blockbuster that exists to be a cinematic roller coaster. A good ride has a lot of thrills and unexpected twists, and by that measure Jurassic Park delivers. Moreover, the T-Rex and raptors were well-established menaces, so to deprive the audience of a showdown between the two would be a form of cinematic malpractice. Granted, I believed when I first saw the movie at age 8 (and to this day) that the raptors would have used their superior intellect and hauntingly calm killer instinct to win the battle, but that's getting off topic. The point is that the T-Rex going from menace to hero while posing for an iconic shot is what people paid to see. In that sense the ending is perfect. However, in a more insightful sense, the ending is not perfect. Allow me to explain.
In the absence of parody or hammy self-awareness, deus ex machina endings tend to be sloppy. Jurassic Park is no exception. It's vividly established that the T-Rex makes a lot of noise when it moves. This is iconically illustrated when the glass of water ripples in the car before the T-Rex appears to wreak havoc. The ripples function to create tremendous tension by alerting you of the ravenous prehistoric giant lurking just out of sight. Each ripple and concurrent boom is like the tick of a time bomb you are helpless to disarm. Being big and loud is what the T-Rex is all about, so why is it able to silently sneak into the lobby at the end? My complaint is that the success of the ending hinged on a character becoming something completely different from what it is, in this case an eight ton beast becoming stealth.
This lack consistency with characteristics of the T-Rex is ridiculous and I will not allow it to go unnoticed, hence the post.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Why I Liked Terrible Music: The Joe Satriani Files
In May of 2006 I took a road trip with some friends to Ohio and Pennsylvania. It was immediately after the conclusion of the spring semester at the University of Wisconsin: the prime time when classes are done and you're still in the process of finding a summer job. Instead of walking into every storefront on State Street with a 'Help Wanted' sign in the window I took the opportunity to check out the ballparks in Cincinnati, Cleveland, and Pittsburgh.
The trip involved over one thousand miles of driving and three baseball games. As you can imagine, there was plenty of time for conversation. After we somehow grew tired of talking sports the conversation shifted to the subject of music. This is precisely when I gave a response to a question that, as far as I can tell, is the only time such a response has been given in human history. The question was "What is your favorite type of music" and my response was "guitar-based instrumental rock." This was met with a combination of confusion, shock, and laughter. I would have been better off saying I was a huge fan of circus metal.
At the time I was not terribly keen on words in song. Much like how an exploitation film takes one element (violence, gore, nudity) and magnifies it to a cartoonish degree, guitar-based instrumental rock focuses on the best part of rock songs*--the solo --and ignores everything else. Who needs words, anyway? They're often hard to understand and serve no purpose other than to fill time until the solo. Granted, the angsty anthems of Weezer had significantly softened this position and in the following months guitar rock would forever lose it's place on top of my list of preferred music genres, but for the time being obnoxious guitar solos ruled the day. A favorite artist at the time was none other than the Silver Surfer himself: Joe Satriani.
*At the time I thought the solos were all that mattered. This is no longer the case.
Satriani released Surfing with the Alien in 1987.* For what it is, the album is one of the best in the genre. The title track is a fun way to spend 4 minutes and there is some genuinely interesting guitar work on display. What hooked me to the album was hearing sounds I did not know the guitar could make. Simply put, my mind was blown by the things I heard. The rest of the album contains solid tunes that are perfect for running or a food fight in a film starring with John Ritter. It's good, fun music that's forgettable in the grand scheme of things. Even so, between 2001-2004 I aggressively sought music featuring people doing cool things with guitars.
*Some have argued the song 'Surfing with the Alien' is the coolest of all time, and there is a case to be made.
Satriani's subsequent albums were very forgettable. This did not stop me from buying several of them, but it's also a reason I'm not too upset that I lost my CD case a few years ago. His 1992 release The Extremist featured perhaps his most well know track, 'Summer Song.' (This is evidenced by the fact my road trip friends recognized the song when I played it for them later.) The album was released at a time where the Seattle Grunge scene was ushering in a new era of music. In 1991 Nirvana released Nevermind and Soundgarden put out Badmotorfinger. Yet smack dab in the middle of the revolution was an unspectacular album that didn't have the time to bother with any of those annoying lyrics.
At the risk of sounding Quixotic, the era The Extremist was released demonstrates the timelessness of guitar-based instrumental rock. There will always be a segment of music fans that wants to hear someone shred without lyrical interruption, talk about their top three guitar players of all time, and then have a debate about the top three guitar players of all time. The genre is its own self-contained entity that is impervious to any outside influence. There is a purity to the genre that has a certain appeal. It exists on its own plane and has a specific focus that, if you have a hunger for it, hits the spot every time. The problem is that ultimately you realize that a lot of the songs are irredeemably boring.
I once spend $14.99 plus tax buying The Extremist. Even more, there were times when I would be driving around town and think to myself "I want to listen to a specific song right now, and that is 'Summer Song.'" To it's credit, the song has a decently catchy melody and technically proficient guitar solos. It also uses a drum machine that has a beat basic by AC/DC's standards and a bass line I could learn in one week.* Even more, it's lacking by the standards of what's appealing about instrumental rock. None of the solos stick out as amazing or even memorable. In short, it's not a song I would play for somebody and expect them to like. Unless, of course, that person is 2002 me.
*Probably not true.
Around the same time as the baseball road trip I liked my hamburgers plain and by hotdogs with only ketchup. Since then my tastes have evolved and my horizons have expanded. I now like my pizzas with more than just pepperoni, thank you very much, and I have come to appreciate a broader variety of music. You know, music where people are singing about stuff. Ultimately my guitar-based instrumental rock phase was a stepping stone to more interesting music. It piqued an interest in music and opened my ears to the amazing things people can do with instruments. But oh my, what a goofy stepping stone it was.
The trip involved over one thousand miles of driving and three baseball games. As you can imagine, there was plenty of time for conversation. After we somehow grew tired of talking sports the conversation shifted to the subject of music. This is precisely when I gave a response to a question that, as far as I can tell, is the only time such a response has been given in human history. The question was "What is your favorite type of music" and my response was "guitar-based instrumental rock." This was met with a combination of confusion, shock, and laughter. I would have been better off saying I was a huge fan of circus metal.
At the time I was not terribly keen on words in song. Much like how an exploitation film takes one element (violence, gore, nudity) and magnifies it to a cartoonish degree, guitar-based instrumental rock focuses on the best part of rock songs*--the solo --and ignores everything else. Who needs words, anyway? They're often hard to understand and serve no purpose other than to fill time until the solo. Granted, the angsty anthems of Weezer had significantly softened this position and in the following months guitar rock would forever lose it's place on top of my list of preferred music genres, but for the time being obnoxious guitar solos ruled the day. A favorite artist at the time was none other than the Silver Surfer himself: Joe Satriani.
*At the time I thought the solos were all that mattered. This is no longer the case.
Satriani released Surfing with the Alien in 1987.* For what it is, the album is one of the best in the genre. The title track is a fun way to spend 4 minutes and there is some genuinely interesting guitar work on display. What hooked me to the album was hearing sounds I did not know the guitar could make. Simply put, my mind was blown by the things I heard. The rest of the album contains solid tunes that are perfect for running or a food fight in a film starring with John Ritter. It's good, fun music that's forgettable in the grand scheme of things. Even so, between 2001-2004 I aggressively sought music featuring people doing cool things with guitars.
*Some have argued the song 'Surfing with the Alien' is the coolest of all time, and there is a case to be made.
Satriani's subsequent albums were very forgettable. This did not stop me from buying several of them, but it's also a reason I'm not too upset that I lost my CD case a few years ago. His 1992 release The Extremist featured perhaps his most well know track, 'Summer Song.' (This is evidenced by the fact my road trip friends recognized the song when I played it for them later.) The album was released at a time where the Seattle Grunge scene was ushering in a new era of music. In 1991 Nirvana released Nevermind and Soundgarden put out Badmotorfinger. Yet smack dab in the middle of the revolution was an unspectacular album that didn't have the time to bother with any of those annoying lyrics.
At the risk of sounding Quixotic, the era The Extremist was released demonstrates the timelessness of guitar-based instrumental rock. There will always be a segment of music fans that wants to hear someone shred without lyrical interruption, talk about their top three guitar players of all time, and then have a debate about the top three guitar players of all time. The genre is its own self-contained entity that is impervious to any outside influence. There is a purity to the genre that has a certain appeal. It exists on its own plane and has a specific focus that, if you have a hunger for it, hits the spot every time. The problem is that ultimately you realize that a lot of the songs are irredeemably boring.
I once spend $14.99 plus tax buying The Extremist. Even more, there were times when I would be driving around town and think to myself "I want to listen to a specific song right now, and that is 'Summer Song.'" To it's credit, the song has a decently catchy melody and technically proficient guitar solos. It also uses a drum machine that has a beat basic by AC/DC's standards and a bass line I could learn in one week.* Even more, it's lacking by the standards of what's appealing about instrumental rock. None of the solos stick out as amazing or even memorable. In short, it's not a song I would play for somebody and expect them to like. Unless, of course, that person is 2002 me.
*Probably not true.
Around the same time as the baseball road trip I liked my hamburgers plain and by hotdogs with only ketchup. Since then my tastes have evolved and my horizons have expanded. I now like my pizzas with more than just pepperoni, thank you very much, and I have come to appreciate a broader variety of music. You know, music where people are singing about stuff. Ultimately my guitar-based instrumental rock phase was a stepping stone to more interesting music. It piqued an interest in music and opened my ears to the amazing things people can do with instruments. But oh my, what a goofy stepping stone it was.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all
Terminator 2: Judgement Day has been my favorite movie since I first saw it the early 90s. Unlike other 90s films that 10-year old me enthusiastically endorsed (Congo and Speed 2: Cruise Control, anyone?), T2 has maintained a stranglehold at the top of my list. What separates T2 from boring movies about creepy talking gorillas is its rich texture. There is much more going on in T2 than cyborgs from the future wreaking havoc while running around Los Angeles, and upon inspection it is not difficult to see that. There is one sequence in T2 that illustrates this and I want to delineate how the scene represents the greatness of the film. But before I begin a brief synopsis of T2 is in order.
In the late 90s humans made intelligent computers that became self-aware and launched a global nuclear attack that destroyed the world. The human survivors were rewarded with a war against intelligent machines. The machines had mankind on the verge of extinction until John Connor emerged as leader of the human resistance. He was able to guide the humans to certain victory, but in a final attempt to win the war the machines sent a shape-shifting cyborg known as the T-1000 back in time to kill John Connor before the war even began. The humans countered by sending a less advanced cyborg to protect him. That is the story of T2 in a nutshell.
The T-1000 makes an attempt to kill John Connor by going to the mental hospital where his mother, Sarah Connor, was incarcerated after going crazy due to the events of The Terminator. The strategy is that John will either go to the hospital where the T-1000 will be waiting or the T-1000 will be able to disguise himself as Sarah and kill John using deception. While at the hospital the T-1000 comes across a security guard making the evening rounds, and what happens in this scene illustrates the greatness of T2. The scene can be watched by clicking HERE.
The above scene is highly effective because, like the rest of the movie, it operates beautifully on a visual, emotional, and intellectual level.
Starting off, the visual effects of T2 were revolutionary at the time of its release in 1991. If the film were released in 2013 it would be an Oscar candidate for best visual effects, and it's easy to see why: the movie is cool to look at. Watching the T-1000 slowly emerge from the black and white tile is hauntingly mesmerizing. The visuals in Caffeine Hit go several steps beyond being slick. In this case they function to give a clear demonstration of the menacing capabilities of the T-1000. They also function to heighten an overlooked element of the film.
T2 is classified as a science fiction action film, and while this is not inaccurate it ignores the fact that T2 has a lot in common with certain horror films. In Caffeine Hit we see that the T-1000 can be anyone and anything. Also of concern is that the T-1000 has no remorse about brutally killing people. This creates a claustrophobic atmosphere also seen in great horror films such as The Thing or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Furthermore, the visual of the T-1000 rising from the floor is a nightmarish image similar to something you would see from Freddy Krueger. This all goes to create a heightened sense of fear you do not normally see in sci-fi action films. Another thing you do not often see in these films a black humor.
Funny is not a word most people would use to describe Caffeine Hit, but there is some world class dark humor in there. The paper coffee cup the guard is waiting to be filled up has four cards on the side and one on the bottom. After it's filled he looks at the cards on the side and lifts it up to see the card on the bottom, at which point he's excited to see he has a full house. He casually declares "Must be my lucky day." Seconds later we discover that is not the case. Granted, this joke will not cause your sides to ache, but it illustrates how much is packed into T2. It's also something you might not notice due to the tension of the scene, yet this is why I like the movie so much. There are always new things to pick up on even if you've seen the film dozens of times.
Terminator 2 a well-orchestrated symphony of cinema with individual components that are amazing by themselves, yet work together perfectly. I'll certainly be writing about this film in the future, and come to think of it, I have not watched T2 in a while. Maybe it's time to get reacquainted.
In the late 90s humans made intelligent computers that became self-aware and launched a global nuclear attack that destroyed the world. The human survivors were rewarded with a war against intelligent machines. The machines had mankind on the verge of extinction until John Connor emerged as leader of the human resistance. He was able to guide the humans to certain victory, but in a final attempt to win the war the machines sent a shape-shifting cyborg known as the T-1000 back in time to kill John Connor before the war even began. The humans countered by sending a less advanced cyborg to protect him. That is the story of T2 in a nutshell.
The T-1000 makes an attempt to kill John Connor by going to the mental hospital where his mother, Sarah Connor, was incarcerated after going crazy due to the events of The Terminator. The strategy is that John will either go to the hospital where the T-1000 will be waiting or the T-1000 will be able to disguise himself as Sarah and kill John using deception. While at the hospital the T-1000 comes across a security guard making the evening rounds, and what happens in this scene illustrates the greatness of T2. The scene can be watched by clicking HERE.
The above scene is highly effective because, like the rest of the movie, it operates beautifully on a visual, emotional, and intellectual level.
Starting off, the visual effects of T2 were revolutionary at the time of its release in 1991. If the film were released in 2013 it would be an Oscar candidate for best visual effects, and it's easy to see why: the movie is cool to look at. Watching the T-1000 slowly emerge from the black and white tile is hauntingly mesmerizing. The visuals in Caffeine Hit go several steps beyond being slick. In this case they function to give a clear demonstration of the menacing capabilities of the T-1000. They also function to heighten an overlooked element of the film.
T2 is classified as a science fiction action film, and while this is not inaccurate it ignores the fact that T2 has a lot in common with certain horror films. In Caffeine Hit we see that the T-1000 can be anyone and anything. Also of concern is that the T-1000 has no remorse about brutally killing people. This creates a claustrophobic atmosphere also seen in great horror films such as The Thing or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Furthermore, the visual of the T-1000 rising from the floor is a nightmarish image similar to something you would see from Freddy Krueger. This all goes to create a heightened sense of fear you do not normally see in sci-fi action films. Another thing you do not often see in these films a black humor.
Funny is not a word most people would use to describe Caffeine Hit, but there is some world class dark humor in there. The paper coffee cup the guard is waiting to be filled up has four cards on the side and one on the bottom. After it's filled he looks at the cards on the side and lifts it up to see the card on the bottom, at which point he's excited to see he has a full house. He casually declares "Must be my lucky day." Seconds later we discover that is not the case. Granted, this joke will not cause your sides to ache, but it illustrates how much is packed into T2. It's also something you might not notice due to the tension of the scene, yet this is why I like the movie so much. There are always new things to pick up on even if you've seen the film dozens of times.
Terminator 2 a well-orchestrated symphony of cinema with individual components that are amazing by themselves, yet work together perfectly. I'll certainly be writing about this film in the future, and come to think of it, I have not watched T2 in a while. Maybe it's time to get reacquainted.
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