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wilko_3000
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Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001)
Only the very clever could ever be this stupid
Things explode. Sexy women gyrate in PVC catsuits. There are erection jokes. Fart jokes. Sewage jokes. Characters swear and shout. Dozens of celebrities appear to grin and gurn and say "look ma! I'm appearing in a hip and trendy film!" Some of them get beaten up.
Yeah, this is a fun film. Of Smith's four preceding New Jersey movies (Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy and Dogma) its tone is most similar to Mallrats: cartoonish action, bright colours and adolescent humour. Like that film, it's rambling and plotless. Unlike that film, it never really stops being entertaining long enough for the audience to notice.
Jay and Silent Bob are drug dealers who hang around outside a New Jersey convenience store. In Chasing Amy their likenesses were used in a gross-out comic book for which they wound up recieving royalty payments. On discovering that a film is to be made of the now-defunct comic, they decide to head for Hollywood and stop the movie's production. On the way, they meet a super-intelligent ape being chased by an idiot ranger (a plot recycled from Smith's "Chasing Dogma" comic book), a band of sexy jewel thieves and virtually every major character from Smith's preceding films.
The only problem is that Smith has come to rely too much on fourth-wall bashing and post-modern reference gags rather than on the witty observations and conversations that got him noticed in the first place. Characters from the previous New Jersey movies rely on their catchphrases for cheap laughs even when there's no applicable context (why are we supposed to laugh at the "pretzel" quote in the comic book shop? Smith knows we watch his films, we know he watches his films. Where's the joke here?) and the "look out at the audience" joke is used <i>twice</i> for crying out loud. This is the swansong for Smith's NJ movies, so one might expect a little bit of referencing - but does there really have to be this much? Ben Affleck plays about three hundred characters during the couse of this movie - including himself.
But I'm being too anal. This is a good, silly movie. If you like Smith's other films then you'll no doubt be renting this. If you haven't seen them it's best to check them out in order. And if you hate them, why are you reading this comment at all?
Kaubôi bibappu: Cowboy Bebop (1998)
Every good movie you've ever seen in one show.
Cowboy Bebop is a truly post-modern show. Not in the tired "Scream" sense of self-awareness, but in its willingness to mix genres and blur boundaries. At the most basic level it's a Space Western. But Bebop is not content to be merely that, so there are added dashes of film noir, gothic horror, creature-feature, black comedy, screwball comedy, spy action, crime, romance, tragedy, action, philosophy, science, spirituality, fatalism, optimism, buddy-buddy stories, slapstick humour, parody-- just about every type of tale under the sun appears in some shape or form during Bebop's run. It's a show where each episode really is different from the last. Were it not for the recurring characters, it would be hard to believe that the brightly-coloured blaxploitation parody "Mushroom Samba" could possibly come from the same series as the bleakly violent "Real Folk Blues".
The world that the series inhabits is distinctly post-modern, too; space ships fly through hyperspace gates, but once on the ground their pilots fight with twentieth-century handguns. Scenic bays would look for all the world like they were taken from modern-day Japan were they not dwarfed by Jupiter, the enormous gas giant looming in the sky like some enormous benevolent god.
And the music - tribal drums and chants give way to electronic pulses that give way to jazz sax and trumpets that give way to rock guitars that give way to blues harmonicas... composer Yoko Kanno faultlessly turns her hand to an eclectc selection of genres and instruments, ably backed up by her band, "Seatbelts".
All of which sounds terribly impressive, but why on Earth should you watch it? Because, buddy, it's one of the finest television shows ever made.
I have to admit I'm not a big anime fan. Most anime that makes it over here seems to be either about schoolgirls with supernatural powers who battle evil, or adolescent boys who - for some convoluted reason - wind up having to pilot big giant robots. And whilst I'm assured that shows such as Escaflowne (schoolgirls and magic) and Evangelion (boys and robots) are actually rather good, they completely fail to get my blood pumping.
Enter Bebop. Ultra cool Spike, grumpy strategist Jet, trigger-happy Faye, nutball Ed and intelligent dog Ein are as far away from the usual brats and bots anime as you can possibly get. Their motivation, too, is far from the usual anime fare. These guys aren't bounty hunters because they want to fight crime and keep the peace - all they want is a wad of cash, and bounty hunting seems like the best place to make big money fast. Although they will do the right thing when pressed, they rarely forget their true motivation - and if they do, their perpetual lack of food will soon remind them. Life isn't easy, and when you're a bounty hunter it's even harder.
Not that the crew of the spaceship Bebop are one-note characters. As the series progresses, our initial assumptions about the characters are overturned. At first Spike appears to be the cliched laid-back slacker (who just happens to be a mean jeet-kun-do fighter), but we then learn of his fall from the criminal underworld and of a loss that killed him emotionally. Jet's the obvious gruff authority figure, until we realise that he actually cares for the crew of the Bebop as if they were his kids (and seems to have dabbled in pot and psychadelic drugs when he was a teenager). Faye's the usual feisty stand-offish female lead but only because her amazingly tragic past makes her push away friends for fear that she'll become attached to them. Ed's just some nutty kid until we meet her crazy father and realise that it could well be her deprived childhood that sent her over the edge. And Ein? Well sometimes it's hard being a super intelligent Welsh Corgi on a ship where nobody appreciates you, you know?
But not every episode is deathly serious - the character development is mixed in perfectly with humour (both light and dark), fistfights, shoot-outs, car chases, aerial fights, space battles and some of the lushest animation you'll see in an animated TV series. And all of this spread over only 26 episodes.
Yes, many people espouse the old "leave 'em wanting more" line, but so few of them actually do it; Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the perfect example of a series that spends three or four years being top-notch TV then freefalls due to apparent apathy from both the cast and writers. Bebop avoids this by wrapping every dangling plot thread up in just one season of television. And after the final jaw-dropping episode it's quite clear that the series is most definitely over.
Never before or since have I seen a series of such astonishing variety, intelligence and style. Ten out of ten.
Natural Born Killers (1994)
Tiresome, overwraught garbage with a largely solid cast.
How on earth Stone can be regarded as a worthy director after this drivel is beyond me. Perhaps people are tricked into adoration by Stone's hyperactive camerawork. 8mm, 16mm, animation-- they're all deployed without rhyme or reason, except perhaps that Stone is suffering from ADHD and can't bear to have one medium on the screen for longer than five minutes at a time. Why does the waitress at the start of the movie get shot in black and white, with a big freeze-frame and operatic scream? What does that MEAN? A film student could go crazy trying to analyse this mess.
In fact, the only one of Stone's ideas that actually works on either a satirical or purely visual level is the sit-com section, where Mallory's sexually abusive father (Rodney Dangerfield, in a genius spot of casting) is treated to laughter and acceptance, rather than derision, from the canned audience. But that, too, is heavy-handed and plays on for far too long.
The most depressing thing about the entire film is that there really IS a solid, interesting satirical point to be made about the relationship between criminals and the media, and had this film embraced it fully, it could have been a genuine classic. As it is, it's a showreel for indulgent, mindless direction.
If you want to watch a movie which satirises the relationship between a serial killer and the media more successfully (and also manages to be funny!) rent Man Bites Dog.
Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones (2002)
Send in the clones...
Sitting in that darkened cinema, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a cup of cola in the other, I desperately tried to hold onto the bitterness and cynicism that the awful billion-dollar-toy advert of Episode I had hammered into my brain. But it was no good. John Williams' score sent those delightful shivers of nostalgia up my spine and by the time the familiar yellow scroller had faded into distant space I was lost in a heady mist of fanboy love.
Sadly, it was not to last. After a brief set-up, we got our first glimpse of Anakin mk. 2. No longer the irritatingly chirpy Jake Lloyd, our Vader-in-making had transformed into the charisma vortex that is the supremely untalented Hayden Christensen. Consistently out-acted by the logs of wood burning in the fireside scene, Christensen walks around with an expression that says nothing more than "I am concentrating very hard on remembering my next cue". In fact, he's so dismal he even sucks the life out of the usually lively Ewan MacGregor, who seems like he's become as disillusioned with Lucas as the rest of us. Portman manages moderately well, and as Mace Windu, Samuel L. Jackson does the usual badass schtick that we've seen him do in everything else. Even Christopher Lee seems stripped of his menace, possibly because most of his scenes consist of acting against green-screen - a tricky thing for even the most experienced of actors.
The direction, too, is lame. Some action scenes (such as the hover-vehicle chase through a futuristic city right at the start) go on too long and become a tiresome showreel for ILM's CGI department, whilst others are cut horribly short (most notably the Obi-Wan/Jango Fett battle scene, something us fanboys were drooling over before the movie). The battle scenes just fling computer animation all over the place and hope the audience will be suitably impressed, though the effect is rather like setting all your fireworks off at once - big bangs and lots of colour, but nothing to focus on.
The pacing of the film is woeful too. The romance scenes take up too much screen time - something that wouldn't be quite so bad if the two leads didn't have the chemistry and electricity of wet cement - whilst the potential catharsis of Anakin's slaughter of a Sand People village happens off camera! Unbelievably during this last bit, we're treated to all the other characters talking about how something <i>really really interesting</i> is happening offscreen. Show not tell, Lucas! Even the lousiest director knows that.
So many bad things, so few words to say it in: Watto returns, except as an unbelievably offensive Jewish stereotype (big nose, long white hair, a black Rabbi hat). 3-CPO and R2 wander through the film, serving no purpose at all. The dialogue is ATROCIOUS and the jokes are worse. If CGI is so great these days why is it so obvious?
Good things? Few and depressingly far between. The "death sticks" scene worked pretty well, the floaty thin white aliens were gorgeous and watching Yoda kick all kinds of arse made his battle scene with Christopher Lee the single most satisfying Star Wars moment of all time. Ever. Ever, ever, ever. But the brilliance of that last part (the only truly great bit in Episode II) only highlights the ham-fisted, amateurish trash that is the rest of the movie.
I think the worst part of Epsiode II is that it confirms that Lucas really is just a hack. Without a Kaufman or a Kasdan to do all the hard work or a Spielberg to pick up the directorial slack, Lucas is just a big stupid kid telling big stupid stories. If Episode II were some other sci-fi franchise, I would regard it merely as an unbearably awful film. But as it's another step in Lucas' ongoing mission to destroy both his own legend and the Star Wars universe, I can only give it my utter contempt.