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By Christopher Stipp

The Archives, Right Here

I’m awesome. I wrote a book. It’s got little to do with movies. Download and read “Thank You, Goodnight” right HERE for free.

Who could have seen what hell SEX AND THE CITY hath wrought?
No one and you would have been a fool and a liar if you had any presuppositions of its strength at the box office this past weekend.

What I find odd, more than the final tally, is its 85% female tracking of who was going to see the film. Of course it’s a classic chick flick in ways that the ladies, and the gay men who love them, showed they were ready to shower with dollars upon dollars. This cultural touchstone for many packs of rabid frauleines really took some people by surprise.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of them.

The only reason why I was tipped off like a concerned parent who can smell a pedo in a crowd was that my wife (sorry ladies, I know it’s hard to take…) became Tom Cruise batshit crazy to see this movie. She needed to see this thing the very first night it came out. I will tell you this about my woman: She NEVER wants to see ANY movie the day it comes out. She simply refuses to even entertain the idea. In fact, the Friday nights that SPIDER-MAN 2 and 3 came out I was assured I would be going all alone. What’s odd, and really shocking to me, is that she was asked to see the film at 10:30 on last Friday.

The reason I bring up the specific time is that, depending on the height of the moon in the sky, she can’t stay awake to see anything. I was convinced, absolutely convinced, she was going to end up sleeping through the movie. I was sure she was going to tell me that she wasted a Friday evening premium ticket price on a nice nap. Such wasn’t the case as she came springing home around 1 in the morning to say it was worth all the hype, all the marketing and all the hubbub she has been saturated with for weeks. I couldn’t complain with such a glowing reception and I thought it curious when she went to see it a second (!) time no more than a day and a half later with plans to see it again this weekend.

The grosses of this movie, oddly, didn’t shock me based on what the wife thought after she saw it. For all the things that IRON MAN did for me as a giddy comic book geek, I understood perfectly how she felt about the SEX AND THE CITY film. It would be abhorrent if I went on a written tear about how on earth this film about some sex crazed yentas just gum flappin’ for 2 and 1/2 hours because she should shine that same sense of perception about my indulgence in flicks where men get wrapped up in tin.

It’s nice that the ladies have a movie they can call their own and nicely trounced the INDIANA JONES-lite installment by a good percentage on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and, as of this writing, Tuesday as well. The legs that JONES is supposed to have seems built for a midget if these box office figures are any indication and, since everything is made to be horse race, it seems Sarah Jessica Parker’s face was just horsey enough to beat the whipped-one by a nose.

Sometimes, these articles just write themselves. And, just to get the taste of girl sweat off of me, enjoy the following picture of Phoenix as made real by some random woman dressed as the red-haired harbinger of doom:

Ahh…Much better…

CITY OF EMBER (2008)

Director: Gil Kenan
Cast: Bill Murray, Tim Robbins, Saoirse Ronan, Martin Landau
Release:
October 10, 2008
Synopsis: For generations, the people of the City of Ember have flourished in an amazing world of glittering lights. But Ember’s once powerful generator is failing . . . and the great lamps that illuminate the city are starting to flicker. Now, two teenagers in a race against time, must search Ember for clues that will unlock the ancient mystery of the city’s existence, and help the citizens escape before the lights go out forever.

View Trailer:
* Large (QuickTime)

Prognosis: Negative. Gil, I have no clue what this movie is about.

I mean, I tried watching the trailer. I did. I watched it twice even. However, one of the things that I don’t get is that this seems to be DEMOLITION MAN 2: THE MOLE PEOPLE. You’ve got people living under the ground on what looks like a soundstage that is supposed to look like people are living under ground. Secondly, the concept is a arbitrarily goofy.

One of the first things that we read, big ups to you for not using a voice over, is that in order to save the human race an underground lair (commonly known as a nerd’s basement in their parents’ house) was built but that’s not really the goofy idea. You say that it was only supposed to last only 200 years. I guess I’m really stuck on the “only” part of that 200 years. Why only 200 years? What about 201 years? Would that be too long? What about 199 years? Would that be too soon for people to come out of? And why are they down there in the first place? And what the fuck is up with those dudes with flashlights running around at the beginning of the trailer? Is this a nuclear winter sort of thing?

The point is here, for those paying attention, is that you do not start a trailer by having to make me, the viewer, guess the back story. Obviously you have one and I am sure you’ll fill me in but you making me work, dude, and I don’t like that when it comes to my trailers.

After you’ve basically spun me around like those ‘tards you see in between quarters at basketball games who have to spin their foreheads on bats then try to dizzily shoot some hoops much to the delight of everyone in the audience I am trying to piece together the narrative once you tell me this place exists. OK, so you have a briefcase that was counting down 200 years until it went to zero, I think I follow you this far, it opened up, I know that, but some girl thinks it might be Armageddon and you have this treasure map looking thing which is in tatters. Oh, someone drags their hands in some water like in TRON; I loved that movie. They drink water like it’s energy and I’ve never forgotten that whenever I’m really thirsty and I chug a nice tall glass of agua.

So, you have some idiot girl having access to this really important thing, you have Bill Murray looking like this is going to pay for his beach house in the Hamptons, he doesn’t even say anything, then you have these kids, a la Scooby Doo, trying to fix/run away from a busted generator.

Gil, what is up with this movie, man? Is this is a kids film, an adventure yarn, some kind of flick where it’s all about finding replacement parts for this machine? See, again, this isn’t a good thing. Confusing me is easy, but I can guarantee a lot of other people who are smarter than I would have the same concerns here.

I will say that I hear the word escape being used a lot by some kids. Now, I don’t want to be some rain on your parade but is it just these kids who are trying to escape or are you going to doom all the other adults in this who have no clue what these whipper snappers are up to? One of the logical conclusions I have about the film is that if these kids escape the city of Ember, who is going to take care of them once they get to the outside and, if this city is doomed, then am I to believe that there is going to be wholesale death and destruction for everyone else? That doesn’t sound like much fun, Gil.

And, much like WAR OF THE WORLDS, I am a bit concerned over the human brake system, Tim Robbins. I like the guy but did you see WAR OF THE WORLDS? I mean, the movie was cruising down the filmic freeway doing 55 and then all of a sudden, THUD, my face was in the windshield. I hope what I see here isn’t really representational because I’m more than a little concerned by the lameness of how he’s used here.

BURN AFTER READING (2008)

Director: Joel and Ethan Coen
Cast: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Frances McDormand, John Malkovich, Tilda Swinton
Release:
September 12, 2008
Synopsis: A dark spy-comedy from Academy Award winners Joel and Ethan Coen. An ousted CIA official’s (Academy Award nominee John Malkovich) memoir accidentally falls into the hands of two unwise gym employees intent on exploiting their find.

View Trailer:
* Medium (YouTube)

Prognosis: Positive. If push came to shove, I would assert that some lexicographers would state “shit” is a bon mot that is on par with “fuck” as a word which, when properly used, accentuates clever witticisms; a lot would depend, I would think, on execution.

Lots of the time, most of the time actually, these words are just background noise in an otherwise common parlance we all partake in when we banter back and forth with other people. Now, when Brad Pitt uses a word like “shit” in a sentence written by the Coens it takes on a whole new level of hilarity.

I love this trailer because of Brad Pitt’s use of “shit.”

Now, it’s not the only thing I dig about this preview because, frankly, it knows how to work; whoever cut this thing to make it red band has obviously been reading this column and has said to themselves, “I wonder what Chris thinks about people who abuse the power of the Red Band.” And, for those late to the game, I abhor senseless swearing as a means to achieve Red Band status, even though I will personally delight in shots of ladies in their undergoods, this is also a shameless attempt to try and convince people you are “teh” awesome and that you’re really hardcore. That said, this trailer delicately chooses its moments in order to achieve its Red Band designation.

Right from go, I like the setup. No voiceover, no cards, no context, nothing. The story is engaging enough that when you first see Brad wiggling a CD wrapped in a Day-Glo case in his fingers the back and forth between everyone in the room is not nearly Mamet quality but it’s funny. His first use of the word “shit” worries me that we’ve got some abuse of the Red Band designation; it almost feels ostentatious and exploitative.

Now, as we get further into this, Brad (who’s a – definitely looking older with the advent of HD and b – absolutely deserving of some respect with his oeuvre, easily balancing Malibu Beach House Payment quality work with things like this) and his lady hatching a plan to blackmail the author of these very high level memoirs is brilliant. It seems like the only way, you would think, to get Ma and Pa Middle America on board with this movie would be to help them out with a voiceover and some cards to explain things but the Coen’s marketing strategy here works as Pitt unleashes his second “shit” to excellent effect and tosses out a “dickwad” moments later for an encore. In fact, the totality of these events is nothing less than hilarious. Feel free to disagree but you’d be wrong if you did. Malkovich, as usual, is rock solid as the agent in question who fights, literally, to get the CD back. McDormand, as well, shines as she should.

Now, after we get past the initial blackmail situation we do enter some sticky territory. The narrative begins to confuse slightly so this obviously means a deduction of some points from the East German judge. If you go back and forth and listen real hard you probably could get what is going on, I think Clooney is schtupping Malkovich’s wife and Clooney, Goddamn his charisma, brilliantly pulls off a “back door” pun to great comedic effect, but after that there is a whole lot going on that is really confusing. Even the cut scenes manage to just befuddle even me in deciphering what in the hell is going on.

At one point I am glad J.K. Simmons, as the head of some clandestine government organization, steps in to tell Sledge Hammer himself (I loved, loved, loved that show), David Rasche, to report back as soon as this all makes sense. Exactly my point!

###

Worth Reviving

While talking to a fellow film fan/addict, at least a generation behind me, I discovered that as much as they loved the medium, they sorely lacked the experience of witnessing the films that blew my mind and opened a whole new doorway for the remarkable talents of today. An amusing anecdote; having mentioned, “Electra Glide in Blue” its amazing dramatic opening, its bent on the “Easy Rider” mythos and extolling Robert Blake’s performance, my friend interrupted me. “Robert Blake the killer?” bemused the young fiend, had no idea of the depth and range of Mr. Blake’s performances in such masterpieces as, “In Cold Blood” and “Electra Glide…”

That’s when it dawned on me. At least two generations have been nurtured on a stream of processed junk food celluloid that has been siphoned through an unstable era of video and dvd half-baked rental chains that have only been interested in bottom dollar cinema. Blockbuster and Hollywood Video lead the way of the demise of the revival houses. Homes to long lost forgotten movies that sometimes developed cult followings due to their obscure vision that set off minds like that of the two Davids (no – not the mutts from American Idol) – Lynch and Cronenberg. There was also the appreciation for storytelling inspiring the works of P.T. Anderson and the Coen brothers. Sometimes just downright exploitive fun tickled the guilty pleasures of Tarantino and Rodriguez spurring their imaginations. Add the chance to get reacquainted with classics such as Night of the Hunter and To Kill a Mockingbird and have one realize how good movies use to be.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a film snob. I got over my film school pretentiousness years ago. I loved Sin City, 300, and Knocked Up. I just find that there is a plethora of entertainment out there that has been virtually untapped by many and with just a little guidance I may be able to lead some of you to the Ark of the Covenant of celluloid. Originally, I had suggested to Chris naming this section “Worth Revisiting” but it made more sense calling it “Worth Reviving” with a nod to that lost realm of movie houses.

Now the sad part, what I’ll suggest to you dear reader will be hard to find in the GRCs (generic rental chains). Ask your local Blockbuster/Hollywood employee if they have an obscure title and they’ll either deliver the usual glazed look or robotically attend to their computer to check the inventory of the bland and mundane – more than likely telling you it’s unavailable or only to be had as a purchase at a ridiculous sum. Not true – buyer beware! Netflix has one of the most extensive libraries I have seen. I do not work for them nor am I a member. This is merely a fact that I must hail to whoever is behind them. They don’t have it all, but they have damn near 90% of it!

Now the decision of what I should use to premier this piece with. That’s easy since I just turned my film-loving 19-year-old nephew on to one of the greatest mind-altering films of the ‘70’s, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s, “El Topo”. My nephew not only ate it up, but also insisted on seeing everything else this genius had created.

El Topo launched the popularity of cult films, midnight movies and a surge in revival house attendance. This is very apropos since David Lynch (Blue Velvet, Mulholland Dr.) has just announced that he will be producing Jodorowsky’s next film. Lovers of the weird, unusual and taboo may wait with baited breath – your mind is about to explode and the remnants will need to be cleaned with a high powered wet/dry vac.

Even when Jodorowsky attempts a mainstream storyline (i.e. Santa Sangre), he pushes the envelope and freaks us out. The only one that comes close to his universe is Lynch himself and that’s downright scary. I have now seen all of his films and ready to be placed into an asylum. Seriously, I could not see any sane person sitting through an entire Jodorowsky festival – too hard for the mind and the stomach to digest. I suggest taking him in small doses – a viewing here and there – perhaps one month intervals. My 19-year-old daughter is a movie fanaddict and I have not been able to muster the courage to introduce her to his brand of metaphysical nightmare cinematic upheaval, but I have promised her a viewing of his socially dysfunctional horror story Santa Sangre during her next visit. So, without further ado…

El Topo

Unfortunately, my first viewing of this masterpiece of madness was not at a revival house. It was a legend that eluded me for years till a good friend in the late’80’s lent me a bootleg copy on VHS. Poor sound, graininess and a 25” RCA TV could not dampen the power of this man’s vision. I found myself rewinding back to scenes verifying what I was witnessing. I had not been this confused and mesmerized since my first viewing of 2001: a space odyssey. Not that they’re in the same genre, but possibly the same existential level, making one think and contemplate on what they are experiencing. That is probably the best way to describe this metaphysical western that has a cosmic mystic/master gunfighter face down four, just as unusual, rivals in order for him to reach self-enlightenment and a surreal resurrection. Confused yet?

You do not have to be a big western fan to appreciate this film. It goes beyond any kind of normal storytelling as the director/writer and star (Jodorowsky, himself) leads us onto a journey across vast deserts, encounters with bizarre characters portrayed by an array of deformed actors (dwarves, armless gunfighters), and what IMDB christens the “Definitive Cult Spaghetti Western.” Sounds too whacked out? Yes, this is one that could disturb and elicit all sorts of negative thoughts. But it could also have you realize how boring many films have been in the last ten years. This is a film you will be compelled to talk about once you have sat through an entire viewing. Okay, it is not for everyone, like my wife who prefers the Kate Hudson and Cameron Diaz Lite affairs.

At one time, I made the mistake of believing that film was transcendental. I thought a good film could be appreciated by all ages (as long as it was age appropriate). I learned at an early age that I was wrong – the hard way – when I took my grandparents to see Taxi Diver. The film eluded them. The movie and their grandson who insisted they see it repulsed them. Later, they urged me to seek therapy. The only therapy I needed was accepting that certain people could not see beyond the violence or dread of a brilliant piece of work.

Sorry to digress. El Topo means, “The Mole” and he is the lead gunfighter who travels with his young son and happens upon the massacre of a town. He saves a young woman and leaves his son in care of some monks. El Topo then joins the women on a mission to kill all four outrageously designed villains. He is then left alone, wounded in the desert and later taken away, semi-unconscious, by a mysterious sect of deformed people that hide him away in a secluded cavern. Years later he awakes and joins a dwarf woman who introduces him to a small town that is home to a weird religious cult and run by a ruthless sheriff. El Topo eventually builds a tunnel to help the cave dwellers escape.

To make things even weirder – ET’s son is now grown and is a monk in the town. Once the tunnel is completed, the story is brought to a violent and bloody crescendo. Poetic, surreal and original are just a few words describing the journey Jodorowsky takes us on. Please remember this is before the advent of CGI or any of the other preferred effects work that appears today. In fact, the blood and violence does not place the story in the backseat as so many others have. Instead, it is blended well and sits on a precipitous of madness that challenges the viewer and makes one think in a non-linear way. This is an experience well worth the visit if you can find it. Netflix does have it available, and for those more daring – it is available through Anchor Bay by way of a four-disc set, including Jodorowsky’s long lost short film that was recently discovered in a German attic in 2006. Once again, a warning, this is not for everyone. In fact, my grandparents are probably turning over in their graves, and if Jodorowsky was aware of it, he’d probably film that too.

Comments: 1 Comment

One Response to “Trailer Park: Sex”

  1. Jordan Says:

    While I was not a fan of the “Ember” trailer I have read the book (and it’s first sequel) and I quite enjoyed both of them.

    In the book though, it’s never quite clear to the protagonist what is going on until near the end. That the trailer reveals that the city is essentially a giant panic room baffles me.

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