Thursday, March 19, 2009

THE WEBCAM PHOTO INCIDENT

I swear to you that this wasn't intentional...

I'm loopy about My Lovely Wife™. There, I said it. So we do what loopy-about-each-other couples do sometimes. You know, stuff like calling each other silly names and making squeaky noises at each other instead of actually speaking. Those of you who are in the same mess we are in will understand.

So this afternoon at work my Blu Ray copy of PINEAPPLE EXPRESS shows up. She has been on me for a few weeks now about picking up a copy and it's finally here. OH HAPPY DAY!

Now my INTENTION was simply to do the following:

1- Write My Lovely Wife™ an email saying "Hey (pet name that I dare not repeat online), guess what showed up! HOORAY!"

2- Include a photo from my webcam so she can see it and see me smiling and she can think to herself "Oh Glee! Oh Fortuna! My life is a fine one!" and so on and whatnot.

That's ALL I was gonna do.

So I fire up Photo Booth. I hold up the disk in its' sexy blue box with a photo on the cover of stars James Franco and Seth Rogan, and I hit "snap"...

And I end up with this:


This will be even more amusing to those of you who recall my lament earlier in the year regarding the comments have been getting at restaurants, movie theaters and bookstores.

I am a pudgy, hairy doofus.

Monday, March 09, 2009

WATCHMEN ... ... ... dammit...

I get into film discussions on a regular basis with Josh, My Cinematic Junky Compadre. I respect his opinions because he respects mine, and because he admits that he is far more forgiving to the flaws and cracks that often ruin the experience for me.

We recently attended the majority of a Stanley Kubrick retrospective, and in between films one of our chats touched on the fact that Kubrick was the master of adapting novels to the screen. It never seemed to faze the director that he was deviating from the original outline, because the director was able to effectively convey the emotion and message of the book even if he didn’t stick entirely to the plot. Did we really need to see the animated hedge-animals in THE SHINING? The Made-For-TV remake in 1997 answered that question quite effectively.

Furthermore, Josh and I agreed that because of Kubrick, the time has come to stop comparing books to their cinematic counterparts, because the director had shown Hollywood once and for all that a film could stand on its’ own from it’s source material. Perhaps it could even improve upon it. A book is a book and a movie is a movie. Let each stand up for itself.

Imagine what Kubrick could have done with WATCHMEN.

Director Zack Snyder has been adamant about acquitting himself of plot changes and lost moments in WATCHMEN. It seems to me that if this is true, we will be seeing a more competent, exciting, faithful adaptation of what many consider to be the Greatest Graphic Novel Of All Time. Perhaps we will see one where the emotion and message of the original story comes through. All that I know for certain is that they are lost in this cut of the film.

If you don’t know what WATCHMEN is all about, then stop reading this review and go read it, or at least see the 162-minute version that I just saw and let me know what it is like to experience the film without being tied back to the graphic novel that inspired it. For me, the story was always an epic: a magnificent comic book story that marked the reader’s transition from adolescence to adulthood. It painted superheroes as (almost) entirely human, and existing in a real universe where history mirrored our own, but didn’t rely on Kryptonite or atomic spiders to create it’s saviors. It grounded its’ characters in reality and then pondered what would happen if a world that was filled with masked vigilantes was suddenly given a TRUE superhero to witness: one that possessed actual superpowers and was therefore drawn less to humanity and more fascinated with the makeup of the universe itself.

The original WATCHMEN also gave us a cautionary tale about fear, and the fragile precipice of sanity, and it suggested that we ask ourselves “what kind of a person WOULD dress up like a moth and try to fight crime in a big city?”

You know how awesome you think Batman is? You wouldn’t recognize him before WATCHMEN was written. Do you know why Spiderman began to fight Venom? Read WATCHMEN. The dark realities were out there before Alan Moore & David Gibbons created Nite Owl and Rorschach, but WATCHMEN galvanized it, and set it in darkness, and gave it some sort of reality.

Enough of me waxing poetic. Zack Snyder’s filmed adaptation of WATCHMEN is released. And it is almost a great movie. But he left out some very important details in his interpretation, and it is exactly like creating a stew without any seasoning... the ingredients are fine and good, but ultimately you have a bland dish that leaves you wanting more.

What’s great about WATCHMEN? The actors. Every last one of them is fine. Carla Gugino is getting some flack for not adding much to her interpretation of Sally Jupiter, the world’s first Silk Spectre, but she’s fine. Fanboys are gushing over Jackie Earle Haley’s dark, brooding Rorschach, and rightly so as he handles every word and nuance perfectly. The actors don’t miss a step, and they gel wonderfully with each other. No complaints.

Another great thing about WATCHMEN is it’s decision to fill in the gaps with exposition that works: the opening credit sequence is by and far the best example of how to bring an audience up to speed with a comic-book-reality I have ever seen. And the way it introduces each character in the first act of the film is truly impressive.

But sadly, there is never any sort of payoff by the third act.

I truly believe that there was enough material and information shot that, when edited together properly, will give us an acceptable version of WATCHMEN that might convey the depth of emotion and intellectual investment that the original graphic novel evoked. But it’s lost here, and it is caught under a ton of unnecessary garbage and unreasonable filler. I found myself adoring the first half of the movie and fearing what they were going to do next with the story after the first 90 minutes.

The Top Five Things That Disappointed Me About WATCHMEN:

5- “The Watchmen” moniker

So this is a little thing, but it was the first thing that unsettled me when I was watching and it goes towards my “this is a pot of beef stew without any seasoning at all” theory. In the film, Dan Dreiberg and others refer to themselves as “The Watchmen”- it is implied that they were an organization in the 60‘s that followed after “The Minutemen” in the 40’s. In fact, the organization that was proposed in the 60’s was going to be called “The Crimebusters” and it never happened because The Comedian made such a mockery of it during its’ first meeting. The title WATCHMEN refers to each and every costumed vigilante and superhero that encompassed the scope of the story, from the 40’s on through. It might seem fanboyish to wish for a detail like that to remain in the film, but it adds more depth and symbolism to the story when it is left ambiguously out of the crime fighters’ vernacular. When they refer to themselves as “The Watchmen” it makes the casual viewer understand that there was a group of superheroes out there, but it also implies that it was a small group and that they were unified. That’s the first step in misleading the viewer from the original message.

4- The Violence

It’s not that I don’t like blood and gore. That’s crazy. I have been a gorehound since the days of renting VHS tapes and fast-forwarding them to the parts where the bad guys all melt. But I was flabbergasted at how gleefully and mercilessly Snyder decided to let fly with the carnage. Bones don’t just get broken, they fly out of a person’s skin when they crack. Knives are thrust into bad guys’ necks. Cleavers split heads open, arms are out-and-out amputated. Entrails hit the ceiling and stay there. Here is my question:

WHY?

Is it because Snyder wanted to add a level of depth and reality to the story? Did he want to remind us that these are “real people and that they are really doing these horrible things, and that blood and gore is a result of it?” Is this part of the underlying theme of the story... that this is what would really be happening when costumed vigilantes get violent with real flesh-and-blood criminals?

If so, then why do people soar 20 feet through the air when they get kicked in the chest?

3- That Sex Scene

I love tits. LOVE em. There, I said it. If there was any doubt, let that be the closer, right there. Naked boobs? They are A-O.K. in my very long, very detailed book.

Therefore it is with a heavy soul that I proclaim the very moment when WATCHMEN became less-than-great for me was during the 3-minute extended sex scene between Dan and Laurie in the hovership. Did we REALLY need to see Dan’s ass thrusting enthusiastically and triumphantly between Laurie’s legs? My inner pervert says “Yes indeed!” but believe it or not... it was unnecessary. And silly, and uncomfortable, and stupid. This marks TWO occasions where Zack Snyder has taken me OUT of a movie-watching experience because of a too-long, too-goofy sex scene (see 300).

2- The Pacing

It should have been faster, smarter and tighter. Nobody said that 300 was over too quickly. And considering what I am about to complain about, one would think it could have been accomplished with a heavier hand in the editing bay. By the last half hour you felt like it needed to be over. What a shame... SUPERMAN came out at 143 minutes in it’s initial release... felt like a half hour. Hmm...

1- That Ending

SPOILERS AHOY!

The biggest bone of contention against WATCHMEN is the fact that they changed the ending. (highlight the following if you want, I don’t want to destroy this for the rest of you) In the book, Veidt’s plot involves a band of scientists, artists and designers who have been exiled on an island for months-to-years designing an authentic alien squidlike-creature that they believe will be a prop for a science fiction movie. Veidt teleports the creature to the center of Manhattan, where it explodes on arrival (Dr. Manhattan can teleport objects and allow them to remain intact, but Veidt’s technology can’t). The creature’s arrival in New York City implies an impending alien invasion, and the countdown to Armageddon ceases to be an issue between The US and Soviets as they unite towards a common cause. Sure, a few million people die... but Veidt insists that it was necessary in order to save billions.

Snyder’s version instead has Veidt constructing complicated bomb-like mechanisms that imply, when detonated in SEVERAL cities across the globe, that Dr. Manhattan has attacked more than one area as revenge or an act of aggression towards the human race.

(OKAY I AM DONE SPOILING IT)

They claim the resolution is the same: unity and an end to impending nuclear war. But there couldn’t be a larger gap between the intent of the implications in the original story and the implications of the film. I’m not religious, but the overall message of “Fear God’s Wrath” is WAAAAY, WAAAAAAAAY off the mark here. And it ruins everything that came before it.

Snyder claims that there simply wasn’t enough time to provide the exposition necessary to keep the original ending intact.

Let me get this straight... there was enough time to show two characters humping like teenagers for three minutes... there was enough time to change a scene where a convict gets his throat slit to a scene where he gets his arms hacked off with a power tool... there was enough time to change a scene dealing with burning a building down with a killer inside it into a scene where a beloved character butchers him with a meat cleaver... but we couldn’t effectively convey the original climax because there just wasn’t enough time to do it right?

Try harder. Alan Moore did. And with all the technology you had at your fingertips, you could have done it for us, and left the original message intact.

You went for a big Hollywood ka-boom ending. Enjoy the paycheck. Let’s see the ‘Director’s cut”.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

PROOF OF HOPE. PROOF OF CHANGE.

It's the first week of March, 2009. The GW Bush Presidency is gone and done with, our nation is knee-deep in the worst recession since the 1930's, and somehow fate has decreed that a hard-boiled metrosexual detective from 2008 has ended up in the early 1970's in a precinct run by Harvey Keitel (who's only acting direction in the 6 or 7 episodes I have watched so far redefines the term "phoning it in").

And yet, if you look... heroes are emerging.

Many of you will remember my McDonald's nemesis Marcello. The man is a shyster, a hooligan, and a harried part-time employee at the closest fast-food restaurant to my workplace. Despite the painful way he has treated me in the past, I have not stopped eating at the place. This is because I am a fat, miserable dick. I blame the Scottish Bastard that Marcello works for. Hate the game, folks, not the playas.

The Scottish Bastard's newest ploy in the epic Plot To Give Me A Bypass By The Time I Am 40 involves the Lent-based Double Filet-O-Fish Sandwich. Let's bring this puppy out so everyone can marvel at its' glory...


(image courtesy of McChronicles)


There it is, folks... the answer to the burning question: "Hey, kids! Do you LOVE the taste of fish sticks but HATE having to eat them at home, all alone?"

I wanted a light lunch, since I am currently battling my third head cold in as many months (and worrying tremendously about my immune system and what sort of effect that evening with that Thai hooker with the Adam's apple has had on it), but I am not yet ill enough to stave off nausea. My natural curiosity won out and I found myself at the drive-thru window asking for the five-dollar value meal. With a Dr. Pepper. Because I am sick, after all.

It was only after I had gotten out of the parking lot and was headed back to my cozy little desk when it struck me that in addition to TWO "filets" (I spelled that right, look it up) on a lightly-steamed bun, I was also currently in possession of an entire order of salty, potato-y McDonald's french fries! Oh happy day!

But what to dip them in?

My office has a common area with a shelf that has become a catch-all for fast-food detritus. If you need a tiny paper double-tube of salt or pepper, we can handle that for you. Are you looking for a spork? You are covered. Need a place to deposit the extra 45 packets of "mild" sauce from your trip to Taco Bell? Drop 'em in a bowl and wash your hands of the burden of unwanted sauce-ownership.

Sadly, even though you can acquire a packet of mayonnaise and six fortune cookies in our break room, the area suffers from a ketchup drought. Something about the tomato-and-high-fructose-corn-syrup concoction makes it very rare and succulent in our office. And although you CAN consume McDonald's french fries without dipping them in ketchup, it's not recommended.

"But Ryan", you say around a mouthful of raisins, green salad and lite Italian dressing (fuck you, you health nut), "everybody gets french fries with their meals at The Scottish Bastard's, and nobody ever remembers the ketchup packets!"

Right you are. However: nine times out of ten your greasy, condiment-laden sandwich will drip half of its' contents onto the cardboard container where you have dumped your fries, thus allowing you SOME sort of alternative to eating dry-and-salty pommes frites.

You can't do that with a Filet-O-Fish. Because french fries and tartar sauce is fucking gross.

Seriously. It's horrifyingly disgusting. My guess is that when Steve-O from that MTV show where the two "NOT GAY" guys run around the planet and throw up all the time is about to eat something like a caribou turd or an iguana's dick, the last thing he thinks when it's going in his mouth is "well at least this isn't going to taste like a french fry in tarter sauce". Next thing you know... "Huuurk! Huulll-wik! HORF!" Oh, the ratings!

So here is my sad lament... I am headed up to my desk with a double-decker sandwich that can't even legally include the proper spelling of fillet in its' title, and I know that in a half hour I will need more to drink because of the amount of salt I am going to be sucking down with these delicious Potato Sticks of Death. And there will be NOTHING TO DIP THEM IN, because I was too phlegmy and medicine-headed to say anything about ketchup when I had the chance.

And then I opened my to-go bag...

Yes indeed! Sitting on top of my food, glowing like a beacon of hope...

MARCELLO HAD GIVEN ME FOUR PACKETS OF UNSOLICITED KETCHUP.

This is a crazy world we live in. The Republicans are telling us that Obama is a Muslim. You can't buy sinus medication over-the-counter any more for fear of meth labs. Nobody knows if Ben or Whidmore is the good guy...

But in one corner of one town, a guy had the foresight to slip another guy a few packets of ketchup without having to ask for it.

My world is a little bit sunnier. A little bit brighter.

Yes We Can.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

THE TV-DINNERAMA UPDATE!

It's already March 4! That means it is DAY FOUR of the:

So let's take a look at how we are doing so far!

...
... ...
... ... ...

I quit.



I really want to impress upon you how much I was looking forward to the


... I bought stuff. I designed graphics. I made templates. I cleaned the TV room up.

What I did NOT anticipate was that I would be out of town for the first two days of March. Furthermore, I didn't pause to consider the quality of the food I was about to exclusively consume for 31 straight days.

Here's what went down last night:

My first day back home! And time to belly up to the Banquets!

I walked into my kitchen late last night and opened the fridge, anticipating a GREAT kickoff to the


... And there was the first contender of the month: A Banquet Chicken Fried Beef Steak Meal.

I'm a fan of chicken-fried steaks and chicken, don't get me wrong. But something in the presentation of the meal started to turn my stomach. Before I opened the box I flipped the thing over and decided to educate myself as to how to prepare my evening supp.


Unpackage. Heat for 4 minutes. Stir. CONTENTS MUST BE THOROUGHLY COOKED!

Somewhere between holding the clammy, thin, cardboard packaging and reading that if I didn't let the whole thing sit for 2 minutes after cooking it (in order to maintain proper heating throughout), my body started to tell me that it wasn't hungry at all.

It went on to tell me that even if I waited for a long, long time, it would not be hungry for this food. My body even made a special effort to assure me that if I was starving to death, it would need at least a six-pack of beer and a hail-mary pass before it would consider letting me put this in it.

Considering that this was coming from the same stomach that sometimes orders me to consume 2 dozen chicken wings and a half-rack of ribs on a Wednesday night, I decided it meant business.

Hence:


... I had a salad.

Fuck it.