The Brewhaha on... "Dragonball: Evolution"

 “Everybody at school treats me like I’m nothing, Grandpa. […] Sometimes, they push me so hard, I want to…explode.”
-Goku, not as himself

“Hey!  Goku, right?”
Chi-Chi, summing up this movie

“This movie is a sin against God.  All fifteen or so of them.”
-Me, summing up this movie and DBZ’s deities

“Dragonball Evolution!  Next on F/X!”
-F/X, making my day

Most of my reviews aren’t actually this long.  If it’s something like “The Secret of NIMH,” “Death at a Funeral,” “Citizen Kane,” or any of my dad’s “special” DVD’s…you know, films which clearly have some level of work put into them…it gets maybe two pages (Microsoft Word).  If it’s something I can look up on Wikipedia and get the general gist of?  Three pages.  If it’s something I’m a fan of, like “Bleach,” the EVA movies, or the acclaimed “How-To Guide On Preparing Photo Frames For Your Home,” it gets five pages, maybe more, clocking in as one of my longest reviews.  (The exception, of course, was “The Watchmen,” to which I gave a lukewarm “If it’s your thing, do what you wanna do…”)

“Dragon Ball,” along with its various spinoffs, sequels, and other media over the years, is a unique beast, though.   It’s something which started off as a simple, almost infantile gag manga (albeit with some “adult” material thrown in) written and drawn by now-richer-than-God-and-Bill-Gates-combined Akira Toriyama, and soon became one of the most influential action series out there (for given values of “action” or “character development” or “anything other than heavily-muscled Bobble Heads talking trash about each other while making the ground beneath them blow up”). 

Even here in the States, its influence on pop culture has been noted by fans and professionals alike.   So it should come as no surprise that when trailers and ads for a live-action Dragon Ball movie first surfaced here in the U.S., fans went apeshit.  Personally, when I first saw the previews, I wasn’t receptive to the idea.  “Dragon Ball Z” isn’t exactly an artistic venture, but as excruciatingly loooooonnng as its arcs were, I didn’t feel like a two-hour movie would cover any new ground.  (Just see any of the original direct-to-video movies based on the cartoon continuity, or lack thereof.  For instance, a fellow by the name of Lord Slug…)  Besides, “loooooooonnng” and “two-hour movie,” as many fans picked up, are quite mutually exclusive.  Two hours just isn’t going to cut it.

I didn’t see it.   Others did.  Those suckers realized they’d been had.  “Dragonball:  Evolution” has since been savaged as one of the worst adaptations.  Of anything.  Ever.  This film is a key proof that live-action and animation are mutually exclusive, and that Western filmmakers should never be allowed anywhere near production of an anime adaptation.  It’s a black hole of anything resembling talent, effort, or respect for animation, filmmaking, or character.  Any good which comes in contact with this film is negated and warped into a twisted Bizarro of its former self.

This is what I’ve heard, anyway.  But how does one know a movie is really that bad?  Well, either through a stroke of luck or a really twisted Christmas ratings ploy centered around bile fascination, I discovered ten minutes before the fact that this movie was going to be airing on F/X.  I grabbed my bag of Cheetos, set aside my meetings for the afternoon, and got my laptop out to do a real-time review of the film as I went along.

So how bad could one movie be?   Much less a martial arts movie based on a manga and anime all but marketed toward kids?  Sure, it’s probably stupid, ineptly produced, and a terrible Dragon Ball adaptation, but it’s not like it’s harmful or actually bad for you.

Little did I know…

The film starts with a voice-over narration detailing an ancient tale of…Pee-colo?   I’m sorry, who is “Pee-colo”?  And he got sealed away?  For two thousand years?  Namekians don’t live that long.

So after a seizure-inducing opening credits (I think I missed the first five minutes, and bit off my tongue), we see this kid who can stand on two very thin high-rise strings, and safely somersault on them.  He also kicked a man who was standing on these two strings, so he was basically standing on one string with one foot.  He’s a God damn super martial artist already, regardless of fans’ complaints about “emo” Goku.  Why, again, isn’t this guy getting laid?

It turns out it’s little Goku’s eighteenth birthday, and because this wouldn’t actually be a Dragon Ball movie without the title artifacts, Grandpa Gohan caps off their training exercise by giving him the four-star ball, their family’s keepsake since the first issue of the manga.

“The Dragon Balls, when collected together, will grant you one perfect wish.”  Remember that at the end.  Remember that once the good guys collect the Dragon Balls (as they always do in the real series), they can get one “perfect wish.”  Apparently they don’t even have the restrictions of the actual Dragon Balls, such as, say, only one “Get Out of the Afterlife Free” card.  Remember that at the end of the movie.

The scene (the second one) up at the high school, where a guy crashes into Goku and wrecks his bike, is also demonstrative of what is wrong with this movie.   I get the feeling a shitload of fans saw emo-Goku, stood up, and left the theater altogether.  I also love the move with the hood.  “Ha ha, he looks like he’s going to cry.”

“Geek-O”?  For Chrissake, the guy isn’t even Asian.  He looks like he should be a main character on “Life of an American Teenager” or “Dawson’s Creek” or “Wannabe Asians:  Extreme Edition.”

And theeeennnn…an airship.   Guy with a glowing energy ball in his hand.  He blows up a town.  Anonymous hot chick and her little sister.  They’re running through a burning…village. 

Now there is a chick with cleavage and red tights.   There’s even a little “window,” just like Powergirl.  I’m guessing cleavage girl is Mai (Pilaf’s female bodyguard from the first story arc) and the village chick is…just someone.  Piccolo shows up for the split second before the commercial break, and for that split second, he doesn’t look bad.  His face, I mean.

I hate to even mention Dragon Ball Z and Scott Pilgrim in the same breath, but if they’d gotten the deranged minds behind the latter to produce this movie, it might have been a pretty good adaptation.   Most fans are acquainted with the Saiyans and power levels and stuff, but before the “Z” portion, there was just Dragon Ball.  Toriyama was a gag writer, and Dragon Ball was originally a slapstick take on wuxia films, before transitioning to a genuine action spectacle and then to the planet-scale epic we all know.  To properly adapt Dragon Ball at all, the movie would have started off as an absolutely surreal experience for at least the first act (not unlike the clusterfuck that was “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” but with talking animals and slapstick violence instead of…whatever the hell I was seeing in Scott Pilgrim…).

Aaaaand…solar eclipse.   Goku’s in science class.  Checking out a girl.  We go from Piccolo…I’m sorry, “Pee-colo”…blowing up whole towns and trying to collect artifacts of doom…to astronomy class and high school angst.

In addition, why the hell is Goku telling his high school teacher about the Namekians?  My guess was that King Piccolo was something of common knowledge, if incredibly ancient and therefore more of a legend than anything, but even in this warped movie-verse, that seems like the equivalent of telling your math teacher that two plus two equals Jesus. 

The original Goku gets a lot of flak for being the first “idiot hero,” but the fact of the matter is that he was just uneducated.   He didn’t have a context for things like that (though this gets better as he grows up).  Meanwhile, “Geek-O” here, despite being a supposedly well-adjusted (if anti-social and emo) member of society, thinks bringing up the Dragon Ball equivalent of Satan is a good idea to score points in the classroom and start a conversation and win the girl and not at all get beaten up by the background characters.

Oh, and he gels his hair.   That’s…kinda Goku…if Goku was a cast member on “The Jersey Shore.” 

Of course, the way he “lets” his background high school antagonists instigate a fight, I’m surprised he hasn’t broken his promise not to fight already.   If you’ve seen the previews, you remember how Geek-O let the school bully tear up his own car through “Deadly Dodging”?  The scene right before that is our hero essentially telling him, “Bring it, bitch.”   He then shows off his mad dodging skillz while basically provoking his school bullies, keeping to the letter of his ceasefire agreement with Grandpa Gohan while all but violating its spirit.  I know the girl was there, and I like showing off for the ladies as much as the next guy, but you can’t tell me this is the first time our hero’s been stupid enough to do something like that.

Piccolo…I mean, Pee-colo…shows up, kills Grandpa Gohan, destroys house.   End scene.  (As far as Dragon Ball is concerned, thirty seconds is probably the record for shortest fight ever…)  Geek-O touches the Dragon Ball (insert dirty joke here) and somehow senses that Piccolo is back, including knowing what he looks like (barring some bullshit about Geek-O’s destiny and a possible connection to Kami himself, that is not how the Dragon Balls work).  Grandpa Gohan spouts off some expository bullshit, and then is the dead. 

Geek-O mourns him, and the fried crab that was supposed to be for supper.   He takes out the iconic orange uniform associated with the real Goku (alas, you shall be missed), and Bulma some chick with a blue highlight tries to shoot him.  Apparently, she has a Ph. D and wants to use the Dragon Balls for unlimited energy.  Geek-O introduces himself, not at all wincing at the fact that her last name is “Briefs.”  Geek-O offers to be her “big guns” in pursuing the Dragon Balls, even though she has a fucking gun and a Ph. D in Dragon-Ball-gathering or whatever. 

The two now set off on her (Transformer!) motorcycle to track down the great Master Roshi via pay phone.   As the chick with the blue highlight looks in the phone book, Geek-O spells out “M-A-S…”, presumably trying to tell her his evening pastime.  He proceeds to not be attracted to her, even though she…exists.  And is willing to give him the time of day.

Cut to the residence of one Master Roshi, who, as an older character and still generally the same goofball martial artist and mentor from the manga, is one of the few saving graces of this film.   Thinking Geek-O and his platonic female friend are trying to rob him, he attacks them.  The chick with the blue highlight, being the only girl in the film so far, stops them from fighting long enough for our not-Goku to reveal that he’s Gohan 1.0’s student, and for Roshi to decide that they’re all good people. 

From about 45:00 on (counting commercials), I missed a chunk of the movie because my mom showed up rambling about a relative in an accident or some such thing.  I don’t know why the hell she wouldn’t just let me “enjoy” my movie.  This is “Dragonball:  Evolution” we’re talking about, the greatest threat to the sanctity of Dragon Ball’s existence since the abomination that is GT.  You’ve gotta keep these things in perspective.  I think I missed “Pee-colo” getting a Dragon Ball or something.

So after the next commercial break, I get to see a sweaty Chi Chi token love interest (played by the finest cast member of “The Real World:  San Diego”) participating in a desert martial arts tournament.  I guess it was supposed to show that she was into martial arts and “deep” and sexy and “right” for our hero, even though there’s this one super-smart hot chick who’s traveling with him and is willing to give him some response other than indifference.  For his part, Geek-O acts like a nerd in front of Chi-Chi Token Love Interest while all but quipping back and forth with the girl who just tried to kill him.

After about a minute, we move on to a car ride.   The previous scene with Token Love Interest lasts two minutes.  This movie has fucking A.D.D.  It reminds me of when I was younger and I had a different best friend, and he would always want to channel-surf whenever DBZ switched to a commercial break.  That’s what this damn movie feels like.

They fall in a hole which wasn’t there before, which just seems like lazy editing or something but is actually courtesy of a mysterious blonde-haired Asian desert bandit who, by process of elimination, must be Yamcha.   Yamcha Blonde-Haired Asian proceeds to ham it up while gloating over them.  Chick With Blue Highlight argues with Blonde-Haired Asian, setting up what passes in a “Dragon Ball” film produced by Fox as (intentional) sexual tension.  It turns out Bul…I mean, the Chick With Blue Highlight…has another strand of blue hair.  So I shall name her Chick With Two Blue Highlights.

Pee-colo senses that Master Roshi is training Geek-O, so he hooks himself to an overly-futuristic-looking chair to extract his Namekian blood.   This creates a…monster, I guess.  In the manga, King Piccolo (not to be confused with the eternal badass that is his son, Piccolo) used to create eggs out of his mouth which would hatch into demonic minions, back when Toriyama hadn’t made up his mind on Piccolo’s origins or the presence of aliens in the series or even the general direction of the manga Piccolo’s full powers and heritage hadn’t been revealed yet.  Showing him playing the hen to his various little chickens would have been accurate to the manga, but would have probably been cartoonish and over-the-top and wouldn’t translate well to film without the guiding hand of Peter Jackson.

If you compare King Piccolo’s very first appearance (in Master Roshi’s flashback, seen on the “King Piccolo” page on the Dragon Ball Wiki (*edit:  picture is right here if you go Google images)) to later pictures of Namekians, or even pictures of a rejuvenated King Piccolo at the time, you'll notice a difference.   King Piccolo was the first bona fide villain (unless you’re willing to count a certain Communist pig), but he was still a cartoonish one.  So it’s hard to reconcile the maniacal, pointy-eared green man from “Dragon Ball” Classic with Spike’s poetic, almost methodical take on the character.  Admittedly, it’s probably the one thing from the manga that’s taken halfway seriously at all.

So Geek-O and the gang are in some sort of strange lava world.   I think they just “dug” there while I wasn’t looking.  Geek-O has to fight off some…things (which may or may not be Pee-colo’s minions), then cross the rocks atop the pool of lava.  This does nothing to disprove my belief that shonen was invented exclusively for video games.

Mai (the Red Chick With the Cleavage Window) appears out of fucking nowhere and tries to punch out Geek-O.   True to the plague of DBZ storytelling known as power levels, the punch does absolutely nothing to Geek-O while he knocks her thirty feet away.  After collecting the Dragon Ball, they hastily exit the world of lava back the way they came.

Despite trying to collect the Dragon Balls and avert the end of the world as we know it, Geek-O still has time to come to Chi-Chi’s Token Love Interest’s martial arts tournament and cheer her on.  Meanwhile, Chick With Two Blue Highlights and Blonde-Haired Asian exchange vaguely romantic dialogue.  “I never thought I’d enjoy talking to you.”  Meanwhile, The Brewsky laments that two human beings who just met each other would talk like that.  Your Mom asks The Brewsky if he’s watching “Dawson’s Creek.”  The Brewsky responds, “NO, this is supposed to be GODDAMNED DRAGON BALL Z!!!”

As our hero begins training with Master Roshi, the old hermit states that in order to master the legendary Kamehameha wave, you must control all of your bodily units, channel some shit, and rip off “Avatar:  The Last Airbender” (which, as many fans can tell you, got its own shitty live-action movie not long ago).  Token Love Interest shows up and tries to motivate him (is that what the kids call it these days?) with a relatively shonen-like training exercise.  Somehow, Token Love Interest knows a thing or two about airbending ki manipulation, and about unleashing the protagonist’s power via first base.

But then Fake! Love Interest comes in to challenge her rep, and the two different love interests have a somewhat fanservice-laiden fight.   After Geek-O makes a complete mockery of everything Goku might have accomplished in the same situation, he winds up in the world of the dead or a nerd coma or something.  Contrary to what fans have known about the afterlife for years, the “next dimension” manifests as a farmside conversation with Grandpa Gohan and looks like someone poured blue Kool-Aid all over the film frames.  Master Roshi does…something which is admittedly awesome as far as martial arts techniques are concerned…to revive Geek-O.  (If only the real Roshi had taught the gang that technique when the Saiyans came to Earth…)

After the next commercial break, they say they have to get to Pee-colo before the eclipse.   Something to do with the Oozaru, I guess.  Pee-colo says he’s gon’ smack some bitches up for trapping him inside a Hot Pocket for the last two thousand years.  He’s busy harnessing the power of the Dragon Balls when Geek-O and the others attack from a flying car (about fucking time they showed a flying car). 

Master Roshi starts things off with a ki blast, showing Pee-colo just who representin’.  As the monster moves to deal with his latest guests, Geek-O weakly states that he will defeat him, gather the Dragon Balls, slay the Jabber-Wocky and free Narnia.  However, Pee-colo reveals that Geek-O is “Oozaru” reincarnated or something, and as the eclipse begins Geek-O transforms into...some kind of Wolf Man. 

Why the hell is the “Oozaru” a fucking Wolf Man who jumps around and bursts through walls rather than…than a fucking Oozaru?  Why am I not convinced that this Wolf Man is the same world-destroying monstrosity that Geek-O has been seeing off and on in stock footage glimpses of a possible future through the Dragon Balls?  If Geek-…if Goku is supposed to be “Oozaru,” what the hell does that make the other Saiyans?  Or did the anime-illiterate twelve-year-old who wrote this vile excrement and his doting parents not have the Saiyans in their notes when they pitched this movie to the fine people in charge at Fox?

The sick part is that, in rough drafts of the film, it was supposed to look more like Captain Ginyu after getting attacked by a car wash than anything a Saiyan would transform into.  So the Wolf Man was actually an improvement over what they originally came up with.

Master Roshi initiates the Mafuba/Evil Containment Wave, which is doomed to fail (as any fan can tell you).   Blonde-Haired Asian tells Chick With Two Blue Highlights to “Run…RUN!!!” 

…just as Wolf Man comes barging through the nearby wall like the Kool-Aid Man, knocking out Blonde-Haired Asian for the rest of the movie.   Okay, not really; he does get back up at one point to remind you that he’s still alive.  It figures:  in any medium, Yamcha is useless.

Chick With Two Blue Highlights proceeds to fight Mai, proving that Geek-O should be tapping that.   In a series of events I don’t feel like recalling, Chick With Two Blue Highlights defeats Mai, who claims that though she has fallen today, she will be back to get Chick With Two Blue Highlights and “your little dog too!”

Wolf Man/Kool Aid Man/Oozaru is depowered, and digi-devolves back into Geek-O just as Master Roshi dies.   The hero and villain exchange powerful attacks, flying into the sky in a weak special-effects-filled parody of what would pass for a fight in Dragon Ball Z.  After a lame, shonen-protagonist monologue clearly written by the twelve-year-old kid, Geek-O proceeds to end the fight by firing a Kamehameha, clashing with Pee-colo’s ki attack, stopping his Kamehameha just as Pee-colo’s attack meets with him…diving up through Pee-colo’s clearly lethal attack, drifting up from the attack in Piccolo’s general direction while magically turning the legendary Kamehameha wave back on like a damn light switch, and then killing Piccolo…  (As I like to call it, the Toaster in a Bath Kamehameha Wave, which sounds alarmingly appropriate for this movie…)

So now that this film has irreparably damaged Piccolo, Goku, the Kamehameha, and the “Dragon Ball” mythos all in one final stroke, our heroes realize that Master Roshi is now the dead.   Gathering his Dragon Balls (insert trans-species joke here), Geek-O summons the Eternal Dragon, supporting my hypothesis that Justin Chatwin cannot and should not be relied on to give loud, hot-blooded speeches.  (Kamina would be disappointed.  Yes, even the dub version…)  He uses the power of the Dragon Balls to revive Master Roshi, who tells him how much the Blue Kool-Aid afterlife sucked.

Geek-O tells the others that he has one more thing to do.   Since the movie’s about over, he goes to meet Token Love Interest, literally apologizing to her for punching her out (‘cuz otherwise, this emo knockoff of Goku would have seemed like a complete dick).  Token Love Interest tells him it’s no big deal in the same breath that she challenges him to a martial arts fight to the death.  This supposed fight takes place offscreen, leaving the things goddamn Chi-Chi has accomplished in the movie at one win in a tournament, one win by default against Mai, and getting knocked the fuck out by her own supposed boyfriend.  Who is supposed to be “Goku.”

Directed by James Wong

Screenplay by Ben Ramsey
Based Loosely on the “Dragon Ball” manga by AKIRA TORIYAMA if some twelve-year-old kid took someone’s “Dragon Ball” manga collection and ran it through a blender, picking out a hundred random panels and then watching a random assortment of episodes from the Ocean Dub

If you look up “Dragon Ball,” they say Toriyama loosely based the initial chapters on “Journey to the West,” one of the Four Great Classics of Chinese literature (re: Wikipedia).  Now, some Fox exec can say that his brainchild, “Dragonball:  Evolution,” was loosely based on “Dragon Ball.”  (There’s a place in HFIL for that exec.)  As a fun martial arts movie marketed toward children -5 years old and under, this film might work.  As a piece of filmmaking even remotely connected to its source material, it fails on nearly every level.  My best guess is that the execs in charge took one look at the main characters in the actual series, and then tried to make them as unlikable and different from their original characterizations as possible.  They most likely did this with the consultation of their twelve-year-old writer and storyboarder.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer.  And it turns out, they actually did the “dragon balls” joke in the first issue of the manga.  Seriously, Goku says, “Aw, you find a poor dragon and…?”

The Brewhaha on... "Bowfinger"

“What?  He doesn’t need to act.  We’re just gonna have him running around screaming things at people.  That’s all an action movie is.”

-Steve Martin, as himself

"Martin the writer plants some wicked barbs in Hollywood's rear end about creative financing of movies and hoarding of profits, the art of the deal, hipper-than-thou attitudes and exploitation. When Bowfinger rounds up migrant workers as his crew, some viewers are going to be shocked, but they need to ride it out. Martin gives it a neat spin."
-Bob Graham, The San Francisco Chronicle

"Bowfinger sustains a level of mild amusement throughout. It's no small thing but no big deal either. The best routine may be the extended punchline—an elaborate bit of fake kung fu that underlines the movie's vaudeville dependence on ethnic stereotypes, even as it allows Martin to revisit his past with a bit of physical comedy at once nostalgic and mean-spirited."
-J. Hoberman, The Village Voice

"Oh, that's right.  How did I forget about the Kung Fu ending?"
-Me, on the above quote

A buddy of mine (the same buddy who’s quickly becoming my own personal enforced meme) asks me if I’ve ever heard of “Bowfinger.”   I tell him no.  He asks me if I’ve ever seen it.  I tell him I wouldn’t know whether or not I’ve seen it, because it sounds like a comedy, and I lurk on Comedy Central whenever I have the day off.  Within the first few minutes, I realize I had seen it before.  It stars Steve Martin as the title character.  With a ponytail.  (For the first few minutes, anyway…)

It’s a movie about a guy who wants to make a movie, but they have to pretend it’s not a movie.   (So yeah, it’s a bit meta…)  Along the way, there was a Tom Cruise expy who believed he was talking to aliens threatening to expose himself going insane.  I believe it was Eddie Murphy’s first “family-friendly” role.

It’s a very broad concept—an insane director and his ragtag actors, cinematographers, and illegal immigrants (all of which may or may not be mutually exclusive) have to put together a movie, legal and financial constraints be damned.  It feels like a film along the lines of “Tommy Boy,” where the main character in question has to save something, or accomplish something, or kill so and so, and the protagonists race against the running time as shit slowly but surely comes together for the film’s resolution.  (My best guess is this is how movies are actually financed anymore…)  I saw this movie a couple weeks ago, before our college got out on winter break.  I haven’t seen it or looked it up since, so I’m going mostly by recollection.

As far as comedies go, it invokes memories of “The Other Guys” (which I’m hoping to screen for my family on New Year’s Eve).   The latter movie is also something of a subversive take on filmmaking, but it has a certain cinematic feel to it, invoking a latter-day buddy cop movie while deconstructing and poking fun at the archetypal characters it presents to us (while still feeling “mainstream” enough that I’m hoping to screen it for my family).  “Bowfinger” is ten years older, but unfortunately hindsight does not reflect well on it.  It literally feels like a movie I would have watched when I was ten years old, but this is not necessarily a good thing.

Part of my reservations for this movie comes from its tone.   The main character is not a likable guy—he’s the epitome of the unsympathetic comedy protagonist, though, an archetype which has thrived throughout history—but the movie doesn’t want us to dwell on that.  It’s a very plot-oriented affair—see “shit comes together” above—so we don’t really have much time to get acquainted with the characters.  Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy get the most focus and carry the film, with a host of supporting characters and illegal immigrants (see “this is how movies are financed” above) behind them.

I wasn’t too sure about the purpose of the Eddie Murphy look-alike.   My best guess is that he was a “subtle” (nudge nudge, wink wink@!) nod to the fact that he can apparently play five different characters at once; this film would have been made after the Nutty Professor movies, but before the abyss of filmmaking known as “Norbitt.”  It was also a dig at how casting is often based on appearance rather than acting skill (see his first scene with the main female).  Still, it was difficult not to be uncomfortable with how he was used, even if Bowfinger himself had second thoughts afterward.

The film is 99% farce and .001% inspirational flick.  Frankly, though, the .001% took me out of the film.   Bowfinger will stop at nothing to get his movie made—except for that one part where he does.  Evidently he’s willing to smuggle in immigrants, have sex with the lead actress, and all but commit fraud while ruining a man’s life, but he will absolutely not use a lead actor without his consent…

Except that’s the premise of the movie.  That’s what he does to one character, but not to another.  It would be inconsistent, except sometimes even directors develop consciences (in most cases, this is a breach of contract).  Let’s face it, Eddie Murphy #2 is so pathetic, it’s not worthy trying to abuse his trust.  Eddie Murphy #1, on the other hand, is Tom Cruise…

It’s to Steve Martin’s credit that he can be one of the slimiest producers put to film while still juggling a conscience.  It’s when we see Bowfinger that we see the heart of the film, but the movie itself tries to develop a heart in its last act.  It just doesn’t sell, though.  His target of choice is a paranoid scientologist who thinks he hears voices telling him to expose himself to cheerleaders, and Bowfinger is still twice the madman his lead “actor” is.  It has the makings of a black comedy, but the movie doesn’t really make up its mind on that one.

Unfortunately, it’s less than the sum of its parts, but for this there are still some good scenes.  My personal favorite is the blink-and-miss-it confrontation between Bowfinger and the lead female.  “How can we ever work together again?”  “Yes, we can.”  “Yes.  Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

To summarize, 99% of the movie is an excellent movie and a jaundiced portrayal of Hollywood in general.  The remaining 1% leaves me thinking, "Oh, great, they just drove a man insane."  It's a great movie with a less-than-great ending.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer.  And he has declared war on Happy Holidays.  See his new documentary, "The War On Christmas."

The Brewhaha on..."Death at a Funeral"

Rock:  “Who is this in the coffin, ‘cuz that’s not my father.”
Kevin Hart:  “Are you sure?”
Rock:  “Are you asking me if I’m sure I know what my father looks like?”
Kevin Hart:  “Well, people make mistakes in time of grief…”
Rock:  “Look at the damn body!”
Kevin Hart:  *Looks at Asian man in the coffin*
Rock:  “You know what my father looks like.”
-The opening scene

 “The ability of many of the actors […] to build up the tempo and energy levels with their inimitable exuberance’s was muzzled by failed attempts to build serious character identities. The only scene in which the audience noticeably reacted to their efforts to extracts some belly laughs came in the depressingly derivative poo jokes, and it some of Uncle Russell’s (Danny Glover) more insulting outbursts.”
-Michael Edwards, WhatCulture.com

“Tracy Morgan's whining man-child routine, which proved too much as the lead in the recent Cop Out, works perfectly here in smaller doses. Morgan has a part in the movie's best scene [spoiler redacted] while another character looks on and screams ‘How does [redacted physical comedy] happen?’  Indeed, but it's just one example of how a quality performance ensures that even complete gross-out humour is handled with skill.”
-Alex Zane, The Sun

It was only recently that I was introduced to the 2007 film “Death at a Funeral,” a macabre but not altogether dark British comedy about death.  At a funeral.  Lots of crazy stuff happens, but they learn a bit about themselves and their family as a whole.  For an overseas affair, and especially something given to us by the British, it’s a very broad comedy, a tone which comes with its own strengths and weaknesses.

The main strength of a broad comedy such as this is that it’s something which is meant to appeal to a mainstream audience, or at the least, it has audience-friendly elements.  These same elements, however, can potentially break a film if they are in excess.  There’s some elements in both the original film and the 2010 film starring Chris Rock (which will more or less be the focus of this review) which I should have hated—the subplot where the new guy is high on acid for the whole funeral, the subplot involving the gay midget, the subplot where the put-upon brother of the family has to help the wheelchair-bound patriarch on the toilet, etc.

With these elements, though, the original version balanced this out with a very understated tone and ensemble.  The cinematography and camerawork contributes to a very “indie” feel where the camera is kept static and the plot is allowed to play out before us.  And these characters, as broken and flawed as they are, are still sympathetic; for all of their faults, they are still family.  This film is a plot-driven piece, but what we see is a realistic (if potentially doomed) funeral unfolding before our eyes, and the characters interacting the only way they know how.

This isn’t the case with the 2010 film.  Right away, you can see the differences—and not just in the computer-generated prologue.  The conversation quoted above between Chris Rock’s character (who for all intents and purposes is basically the protagonist) and Kevin Hart (of Comedy Central fame, playing the lead funeral rep) is the establishing moment for the American version.  Perhaps the British version wasn’t “subtle” per se, but by contrast the remake hits you with all the finesse of a sledgehammer.  For anyone who’s only seen the previews, I doubt this is news (and judging by that link, they give away most of the best jokes and plot points).

For me, it seems a movie like this helps me understand just what the earlier version did right (much in the same way that a trash pulp romance novel can theoretically teach you how not to write).  The remake does nothing new; instead it hits the exact same scenes, the exact same subplots, and most of the same lines (depending on whether or not the actors are ad-libbing).  At times it felt like I was watching the “Watchmen” (pun unintended) all over again, except the film version of Alan Moore’s magnum opus at least had the decency to come up with an ending that made sense.  (The fact that Chris Rock basically ends the film quipping “R. Kelly used the same car service,” did not make me feel any more secure in the movie’s ending, even though he evidently took the seldom-used tactic of trying to joke about statutory…)

As another means of showing just how irrelevant this film was, consider “Watchmen,” which was first penned in the 80’s and ended up redefining the superhero genre for a generation.  Twenty-something years later, the film came out.  Looking back, I have to admit I felt somewhat numb watching the film for the first time, because Moore and Gibbons had hit the exact same plot points and scenes that I was now watching.  It felt like a two-hour rehash, more than anything.

Still, consider that “Watchmen” was over two decades in the making; regardless of what you actually think of the movie, fans were probably anticipating it for years (or not, considering comic books graphic novels don’t necessarily translate well to film).  By contrast, the original “Death at a Funeral” isn’t even five fucking years old yet.  One wonders what the need was for a remake of a film not three years old at the time.

Oddly enough, if we look at it as a remake, it’s decent, probably a result of its blind adherence to the plot of the original film.  The characters are cartoonishly distorted beyond the originals, though, almost as if I’m reading a fanfic of the original film.  Martin Lawrence is the writer who has become estranged from his family, but because the original character may or may not have been a nice guy, Lawrence’s take becomes a pseudo-antagonist (and possibly a future felon, depending on how the ending turns out).  The mother is more or less the same character, but frankly I didn’t like the way she was played; she just had to be.  So.  God.  Damned.  Melo.  Dramatic.

Frankly, I’ve always thought the weakest subplot was the in-law who wound up accidentally taking a hit of acid and/or hallucinogen and/or a magic yellow submarine.  Yes, he provides some of the best scenes, yes, he has some of the best lines, and yes, he provides a welcome diversion (in more ways than one) during the film’s climax, but his whole subplot could have been easily averted if the fiancé had thought to spirit him out to the car and away to the nearest hospital or clinic.  Keeping him at the funeral for the sake of the plot could not have been beneficial to his long-term health.

A buddy of mine (the same buddy who recommended “Pontypool,” “Neon Genesis Evangelion,” “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” and “2 Girls, 1 Cup” “What Women Want”) argued that the weakest subplot was the fiancé’s ex trying to get her back, most likely because it was so forgettable.  I would disagree—on the “weakest,” not the “forgettable” part—at least for the original.  I like Luke Wilson’s turn as the character—it’s the same basic character, but something about a Wilson brother being willing to play a complete and utter dick after Owen tried to sell himself as the perfect “wedding crasher” for women the world over…something about it brings a sense of justice into the world.  It doth warm mine heart.

The best scene in this movie, oddly enough, was the Uncle Russell scene.  For those of you who have seen it already, you’ll know what I’m talking about.  It reeks of toilet humor, but that’s probably the best part:  even with a movie as stupid as this, the scene is so well-done it’s almost palpable.  Again, I usually don’t go for humor like that, but it’s the rare instance where the remake actually underplays something and allows the scene itself to sink in, rather than just going “lol lets do this again and again and again.”  In the original it was an okay scene, but in the remake it’s well-done by comparison with the rest of the film.  Even Tracy Morgan’s constant scene-stealing is a well-deserved course of action in this case. 

For all of the flaws in the remake, I can’t quite bring myself to totally hate it.  It’s much like the original version which had elements I should have hated.  The 2010 version adds several moments which should have been worse, but it doesn’t take itself too seriously, which is all you can ask from a movie like this.  And judging from conversations I’ve had with my relatives, there is, in fact, an audience for this.  A possibly brain-dead American audience, but an audience nonetheless.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer who just barely missed the week-long mark.  CONGRAT-congratulations.  That's a new record.

The Brewhaha on..."Neon Genesis Evangelion"

Misato:  “Can we really do this?”
Gendo:  “Of course.  Unless we defeat the Angels, we have no future.”
Fuyutsuki:  “Ikari, are you absolutely certain?”
Gendo:  *smirks*
Misato:  “EVA Launch!”
Shinji:  *screams like chicken with its head cut off*
Misato:  “Shinji…don’t get killed out there.”
-And then the first episode ends.

“Did…did the menu options just ask me why I exist? At 0:19, the menu options questioned my existence.  I…I’m afraid to watch this movie. It's not even a horror movie and this thing's freaking me out. Hell, it's the damn DVD MENU and it's freaking me out!”
-A YouTube commenter, summing up the EVA movies movie

“I love that this movie was a huge release in Japan because it violates virtually every rule of traditional film storytelling. The main character is an utter failure at almost every turn, most of the characters are dead by the halfway point, and linear narrative is totally abandoned in the second half for something much more interesting. When I make films, I frequently take a similar approach as Eva, using the trappings of genre to tell a story about a character’s psychological makeup.”
-Patrick, Thoughts on Stuff

“Finally, do you have some message for the fans?”
Kazuya Tsurumaki:  “Don't drag the past around.  Find the next thing that interests you.”
“Does that mean not becoming fixated on ‘Evangelion’?”
Kazuya Tsurumaki: “Yes.  It's always better to let something that has finished end.”
-­EvaOtaku.com

A couple of reviews back, I focused my attention on “Bleach,” noting how it would attempt to deconstruct the idea of a shonen-type hero.  About a decade before, “Neon Genesis Evangelion” would become legendary as the deconstruction of the hero; frankly it should have been called “Deconstruction:  The Animated Series.”  Nowadays, if you see an animated series (especially one from Japan) trying to create noticeably flawed, neurotic pre-teen anti-heroes, showcasing battles against increasingly logic-defying monsters from nowhere, and/or depicting an “instrumentality” plot where a visionary villain tries to become one with, and supercede, all of humanity and as a result force the heroes to contemplate their lives, it’s likely (but not necessarily) taking its cues from NGE.  Preferably, at least two of the three criteria should be met.

For the new viewer who has heard about it but may have been scared off, it’s important to note that while it’s a radically subversive show, it’s not an altogether dark one.  I think of the Nostalgia Critic’s Doug Walker’s review of his favorite episodes of “Batman:  The Animated Series,” where he stressed that while it was a dark show, it wasn’t a forced sense of darkness, and there were enough other elements to balance out the darkness.  This is my general view of NGE as well, at least for the first half.  While there are some angsty moments and while there are some macabre moments where the actual “heroic” work is concerned, it still plays out like a typical tale of boy meets girl, boy meets another girl, boy meets a vaguely maternal figure who he may or may not be attracted to, and boy tries to get the attention of his estranged, morally ambiguous father, all while piloting a robot…-looking…thing.  With fins.

Rumor has it that Hideaki Anno had just come off the lifelong bender of the ages and was suffering from depression at the time, and upon creating the show (which may have been cathartic to someone going through therapy), he ended up discovering the nasty underbelly of the EVA fandom.  Coming to some unsavory (if not altogether false) conclusions about fans in general, his tenure in the latter half of the series was most likely an attempt to challenge them, if not just piss them off.  This is what happens when you force a tweeked-out manic-depressive to interact with his “fans” (as I cleverly form quotation marks with my fingers).

Much ado has been made about the two endings of the series.  The ending shown in the original broadcast is basically a sort of vision quest, an open-ended series of sounds and animation (or a sheer lack thereof) meant to evoke a therapy session.  The ending as shown in the infamous follow-up movie “End of Evangelion” is more plot-oriented and ostensibly grounded in what passes for the show as reality, but if anything it’s even more confusing and showcases some of the most disturbing imagery ever conceived by man (plus they eventually cut back to the vision quest).

Both of the endings have been the constant subject of interpretation for years.  My thematic view is, as many would suspect, the typical coming-of-age story, with an emphasis on the hedgehog dilemma as mentioned in the show.  We keep apart from each other in order to keep from hurting ourselves and others.  Eventually, though, we must form connections with each other if we are to survive.  The typical fan presumably rejects this notion, instead choosing to close himself off within his own world.

From the perspective of the plot, I’m willing to acknowledge that the endings…happened.  (The first movie, on the other hand, was never made, and has never even existed as a gleam in Anno’s eye.)  However, as plot developments, they don’t exactly make for good cinema.  Personally, if I were to choose, I prefer the original TV ending over “End of Evangelion,” because the final episodes acknowledge that their supposed ending is a cop-out, and the movie version demonstrates that some things are probably best left to the viewer’s imagination.

Again, though, it’s important to stress that while all hell basically breaks loose (or if not that, then the exact opposite), this only occurs at the end of the show.  For the first half (‘til episode 16 or so) it’s a fairly run-of-the-mill mecha anime, if slightly darker in its implications.  The Shinji we grow to know over the course of the series is an unassertive, unassuming sort of character, but for all of his flaws he’s really just a scared fourteen-year-old kid.  In fact, this is probably why the end of the series has become so infamous; our audience surrogate is warped beyond recognition into some sort of glorified misanthrope for the purpose of making a point to fans.  Many fans may have taken the insult, but my guess is that many others just saw that Shinji had become too “whiny,” “weak,” and “crazy” to do anything useful.  (Which, again, was probably the point.)

Asuka is an interesting case; while she’s not the most likable character, she is a sympathetic one.  She’s a contrast to Shinji in that while he’s a timid character with sporadic yet conspicuous bouts of bravery, she tends to be the overconfident, almost abrasive member of the group.  With her presence comes a sitcom-like tone to the show where Shinji is the main character and Asuka is effectively the belligerent female opposite.  I wasn’t sure about her at first, but it’s interesting to see someone who questions the main character and refuses to let him dictate (if passively) the terms of their relationship.  She understands that while he is supposedly the hero, he’s also a flat-out nerd, the NGE reflection of what happens when a Shinji (whether in a show or in real life) meets girl.  It also says something about her role in the show that the two times she ends up thoroughly beaten, the mood takes a turn for the worse.

Rei.  Rei, Rei, Rei.  What else is there to say besides the sick, sick fucks who have all but fetishized her?  I can almost understand it, until I remember that her general character arc is possibly the most visceral of anything in the series.  (Plus, y’know, she’s fourteen!!!)  The “giant naked Rei” from the movie (which is prominently plastered on the Wiki page for the movie) was probably a response to this phenomenon among fans, but again, there were probably many fans who didn’t take the insult and just registered it as “OMG GIANT NAKED REIZ OMG!!!”

Speaking of fetishization, Misato’s probably my favorite character.  Besides her role as the acting head of NERV and the secondary protagonist, she’s also the only one trying to unravel the overall plot while the EVA pilots are dealing with the on-screen battles.  As a character, she also has relatable flaws (her father issues, her inability to open up, her overall laziness and love of beer) while not letting them control her life.  It might be a result of her potential conflict, but it seems like whatever problems she has are relatively underplayed and shown in a realistic light, while the other main characters are almost contractually obligated to WHAT IS THE MEANING OF MY EXISTENCE? in an increasingly overblown fashion.

And, as a guy and a fan, I’m just going to come out and say she’s the hottest of the regular cast.  Usually it’s the crazy ones, but she’s probably the most psychologically-healthy person in the series.  That might have something to do with it.

It’s impossible to know where the conflict in the series actually comes from.  On the one hand, we have Gendo, who is essentially to the various female characters what night is to day.  Where Shinji can feel some human comfort in Rei, Asuka, and especially Misato, Gendo is the source of much of their misery, whether by accident or design on his part.  We know little of his goals, and even if we can discern that much, we know nothing of the man himself.  Is he a savior, a monster, an anti-hero, or just an emotionally-stunted little man? 

At the same time, the Angels are the strange, otherworldly, incomprehensible dragons of the twenty-first century, designed to challenge, best, and if necessary break the characters.  At times they’re simple challenges to overcome, but toward the series end they have graduated into the anthropomorphic personifications of humanity’s demons; if this is a deconstruction, the characters will and must be deconstructed by the finale.

Beyond the various interactions between these characters, we have the action, or otherwise NGE wouldn’t have lured its fans.  The fights aren’t always the best, but that’s probably the point; you either avoid a fight, end it as soon as possible, or watch Tokyo-3 get laid to waste.  The action varies from long-range combat to pure fisticuffs to diving into a volcano.  When they do get close and personal, though, it’s pure brutality, the equivalent of the Daniel Craig 007 knocking his first kill into the bathroom wall.  Beyond this, the animation is decent (if not great) for 1996, blowing just about anything besides the DCAU out of the water (though again, I say, the “sheer lack thereof”…).

So, is NGE…worth it?  Well, I like to think the show has an above-average start, nothing great, but definitely watchable.  But then I AM NOT WORTH YOUR TIME.  BUT I AM THE ME THAT IS IN YOU.  IF YOU DIE, MY EXISTENCE BECOMES VOID.  I AM NOTHING.  I HAVE NOTHING.  EXCEPT THE YOU THAT IS IN ME AND THE ME THAT IS IN YOU.  INSERT OTHER PSYCHOBABBLE HERE.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer who is constantly questioning whether he’s truly “enthusiastic” or CONGRATULATIONS!  YOU MADE IT TO THE END OF THE REVIEW! 

The Brewhaha on..."Edge of Apocalypse"

“As the long-running host of Crisis Point, […] it was his job to help push the agenda forward while giving the impression that he was unbiased.  […]  Last week’s show had gone smoothly.  The truckers had been marginalized exactly as the White House wanted.  Both of Matt’s guests, a leftwing journalist and a liberal strategist had, of course, been personally picked by [the President’s] press secretary…”
-p. 134, as narrated by some reporter we’ll never see again

“The belief that the United States should be unencumbered by international obligations of any kind is a core aspect of this book. It’s obvious fan-service for the intended readership which has been nurtured on a steady diet of American exceptionalism for years.  So, without further ado, let’s see what gives Joshua Jordan the right to decide for himself whether or not he’ll obey a Congressional subpoena…”
-ApocalypseReview’s blog (apparently Fred Clark’s not the only one who can do a page-by-page review of LaHaye’s books)

“Tim LaHaye fans will definitely want to pick this one up, as its ending leaves no doubt that further Joshua Jordan adventures will follow. Dedicated techno-thriller fans may find frustrating subtle errors in technology and stretches in plausibility, but anyone looking for a clean, suspenseful novel will enjoy Edge of Apocalypse.”
-James R. Hannibal, New York Journal of Books

For some reason, I bought this book.  (Secretly, I’m a glutton for punishment.)  I wish I had known before picking it up at all that someone else was reviewing it.  Page by page by agonizing page.  If I had known that, I would’ve saved about five bucks.

For my fellow Slacktivites out there (I’ve been lurking for the past year or two), thanks to nearly a decade of page-by-page reviews given to us by Fred Clark, we all know L&J, the infamous pair of LaHaye and Jenkins, and how nauseating, how outright evil their “Left Behind” books are, not just in terms of their theology, but also in terms of just how much they violate the basic rules of writing (rule no. 1:  Get a damn editor!).  LaHaye has rehashed and milked his “Left Behind” concept, and the series in general, for every last wretched cent he can get from his suckers fans, but it probably helps this book by leaps and bounds that his cowriter (re:  the guy who actually has to write the book) bothered to do some research beforehand. 

From a technical standpoint, it’s not a bad book, if somewhat needlessly padded out over four hundred pages when it could have literally been written in half the length.  It helps a lot that LaHaye tapped Craig Parshall, whose past work apparently includes half a dozen legal fiction novels.  It also helps leaps and bounds that this book focuses more on the down-to-earth aspects of the end times scenario LaHaye has concocted. 

It goes back-and-forth between the POV’s of various characters, taking a mostly macroscopic view of the potential disaster awaiting the U.S.  We go from Joshua Jordan, weapons designer and the main protagonist of the story, to his strained relationship with his college-age son, to the ruthless mercenary sent to retrieve his designs, to the federal agent trying to capture said mercenary, to the vice president herself, one Jessica Tulrude.  (I’m guessing LaHaye came up with many of the names.  Subtlety is not his strong suit.)

Like I said, though, this book could have literally been written in half the length.  Why?  Because every time LaHaye and his minion (whether it's Jenkins or someone else) write a book, it always has to be spaced out like this.  Presumably, this is so those poor readers out there with bad eyes can differentiate between lines of the text.

Even with this in mind, though, there’s so much damn padding.  This was a problem with “Left Behind,” and it will probably be a problem with this series too.  There’s a subplot involving Debbie, a friend of Jordan’s family, which frankly could have been excised without any trouble at all.  From a character perspective, it’s probably meant to establish that Jordan’s wife is more caring and better at dealing with people than Jordan (plus, Debbie was apparently the wife of “Fort,” an associate of Jordan and a member of Jordan’s personal ensemble).  It was also probably a metaphor for how we, as human beings, become dependent on earthly things which distract us and ultimately prevent us from being closer to God.  It still seemed like an unnecessary tangent, though.

The A-plot of the book starts off with a sort of action “prologue” (gee, this sounds familiar); following a near-miss with an American naval plane, the Koreans launch a pair of missiles at the U.S., specifically New York City.  You’d never see Koreans trying to attack us via some out-of-the-way spot like Memphis, Tennessee (perhaps they know better, considering the King lives there and all…).  Luckily, high-tech weapons specialist Joshua Jordan (who, as a side note, was probably beaten up every day after school until he changed his name or started designing weapons, whichever came first) uses a missile defense system called “Return-to-Sender” (RTS) to avert the catastrophe.  The missiles are reprogrammed and diverted back to the Korean base from whence they came, killing those responsible for launching the attack.

Brought ever closer to World War III, this series of background chapters ends with one Pastor Campbell trying to scare us into Christ.  After listing off a series of signs such as earthquakes, “drought and pestilence,” and “worldwide conflict”—all of which have been conveniently offscreen at this point—he warns the congregation—and by extension, us—to come to Jesus before it’s too late.  Already, I’m not sure which approach is better; in this novel, we’re apparently in the middle of an international crisis, but I’m not sure it’s an “end times”-worthy scenario, which makes the whole book seem lukewarm in contrast to the first chapters of “Left Behind,” which was quick to depict the presence of supernatural forces.  There’s no question that a missile crisis is scary, but again, it’s not “end of the world” scary.

The book then skips ahead two weeks, and in the eighth chapter we join one Agent John Gallagher, a member of an elite federal counterterrorism unit, as he narrates the aftereffects of the attack.  The U.S. President at this time, one Virgil Corland, has apparently become bogged down by “indecision” following the attack, despite the fact that America basically caught a pair of missiles and threw them right back where they came.  It’s revealed near the end of the book that “R & D has been pretty much halted with President Corland’s edict against any ‘exotic new missile defense systems’,” which seemed like an afterthought on the part of the authors to put the U.S. in a more vulnerable position, and made me think that maybe their book president should stop being so “political” and just all-around failing at life.  Still, it’s an understandable position; no one wants to be the President who may have started World War III, even if it was in self-defense.

The book goes on to show Jordan’s congressional hearing over the legality of the defense system.  Here we have another infodump on the possible future of the U.S.; one Senator Hewbright discusses the ramifications of various “disastrous treaties” with the U.N., including the “United Nations Covenant of Tolerance and Human Rights that, I’m ashamed to say, the United States Senate also ratified.” (p. 64)  There’s another passage (p. 119) where a U.S. marshall laments the presence of a U.N. Human Rights division based in California, thinking to himself, What was happening to America?  It’s a telling piece of characterization for both of these chraracters, but probably a characterization choice which reflects badly on the author’s viewpoints rather than anything intentional.

If I were reading a LaHaye book for the first time, I would be wondering right now if there was something I’m missing in a covenant for “tolerance and human rights,” something “bad” I should know about.  As it is, it’s still a very confusing view on international relations in general and the U.N. in particular, but not a surprising one.  LaHaye’s views on international relations are far too strange for me to describe in detail, but suffice to say, foreign countries in general—and the U.N. in particular—are not to be trusted.  The book includes many instances of the words “globalist” and “internationalist” and “dirty Commie hippie-ist [sic].”  As far as LaHaye and the other John Birchers are concerned, “human rights” is nothing but a moniker the U.N. operates under in order to take over the world.

With this apparent international conspiracy to erode the sovereignty of our nation in mind…the protagonist’s mind…somehow?...Jordan is asked by Congress to hand over the specifications for the RTS system.  Naturally…Jordan refuses.  He thinks that handing his specs over would make the system vulnerable to foreign intelligence. 

Which brings us to Atta Zimler, also known as the “Albanian” (in the same tradition as Heroes’ “The Haitian” and “The German” and “The Black Guy Who Uses Your Fear To Make Him Strong”).  It’s almost a hundred pages in, and it strikes me how well-written, how well-constructed, this book actually is (at least compared to L&J’s efforts).  The transition to Zimler’s intro, and the assassination he carries out over the next ten pages, are nearly cinematic in tone.  Frankly, it wouldn’t be out of place in a movie (probably not a unique phenomenon in novels nowadays considering this is 2011, but still). 

For those of you who have read my other reviews and my tendency to relish action movies, it probably goes without saying that this guy’s my favorite character.  Sure, he kills people and he’s a complete monster, but there’s something about him that’s so care-free while still being a complete badass (which I’m psychologically dispositioned to root for).  Compared to Jordan, who spends most of the book essentially hiding a God damn state defense secret from his own government, I’m going to side with the mercenary who gets to do cool, mercenary things (a proud tradition continued from the “Left Behind” series, where I sided with the guy who had the supernatural powers, the one-world government, and the cheesy outlandish accent in the movie).

The actual conflict of the book is driven by the government and Zimler’s respective efforts to get to Jordan and obtain the specs.  For the former, they issue a congressional order to Jordan to hand in the specs within forty-eight hours.  They have also spread a smear campaign against Jordan, accusing him of trying to extort money out of the government in exchange for use of the RTS specs.  It’s revealed that the government, and the Corland administration in particular, has been able to establish a media monopoly through the use of digital cable.  It’s a believable turn of events and use of the government’s power, but I can understand why many reviewers believe this is a politically-motivated book.

Obviously, Jordan…spends most of his time ducking the congressional order, while gathering some of his old war buddies to establish a new media network called Fox News AmeriNews, which is essentially the conservative counterpart to the Corland-dominated news.  With the use of their precious reporters (equipped with Allfones®, brought to you by MomCorp), they plan to tell the real, true story of just why Jordan…is hiding a state defense secret from his own government.  Again, yes, vaguely politically-motivated blah blah blah, but this whole sorry conflict could have been avoided if Jordan and co. weren’t so damn fearful of the boogeyman that is foreign relations.

This overall conflict should make Jordan feel cornered.  But that’s not the case; for all of this, he still has some friends in high places, or otherwise AmeriNews wouldn’t even be possible.  This is a theme that Parshall touches on…nay, he brings it up again and again, practically preaching it to us via Pastor Campbell, the obligatory clergyman for this series.  And there is a sense that much of the conflict is actually out of the protagonist’s hands, particularly once Zimler makes his move for Jordan.  The main theme for the novel is one of helplessness, and that we must turn to God in the face of overwhelming circumstances.

Said God brings providence in the form of the so-called “Patriots,” a group of “powerfully connected Christian leaders.”  Their main representative is one Patrick McHenry, and it probably says something about the tone of the series, and LaHaye’s views of Christianity in general, that his supporting Christian character of choice is a mysterious, well-connected cipher who can command a small, anonymous crack SWAT team and who is all but kept in shadow during this first novel.  It also says something about the creative minds behind this book that all we really know about this character is taken from that blurb in the front cover that I just quoted.

In terms of its Christian themes, it’s probably average—not particularly well-written, but not overbearing either.  The sharp exception is the terrible dialogue during the golf scene between Jordan and Pastor Campbell a little over halfway through the book, which basically took me out of the scene.  (“If the tower has only one frequency, it doesn’t make much sense to say you don’t like that frequency and you’d rather have multiple options.”  “So, what’s the single frequency for God?” […] “The ultimate reason that Jesus came to earth was simple, but pretty mind-blowing…”) Again, my best guess is that this is par for the course as far as Christian novels are concerned, but I had to stop reading about halfway through that scene because I physically couldn’t stand it.

Jordan’s wife, Abigail, was tolerable, but not much more than that.  She juggled three hats, one could say:  the AmeriNews team lawyer, a mom and wife, and the token born-again Christian who tries to save Jordan’s soul.  As the lawyer, she had an excellent scene with one of the FCC chairs (and the typical scene where the woman laments the use of high heels).  As the mom, caring and a nice foil to Jordan.  As the Christian…I remember scribbling down “Shut up, shut up, shut up…” whenever she started talking about God.  (I’m starting to see how fans can actually hate a character…)

You also have the obligatory plot where Jordan is trying to reconnect with his son, Cal.  Out of most of the scenes, these were probably the strongest.  As a son who has a dad (two, actually, if you count the guy my mom’s with now), I can relate to these scenes.  And as a son whose gotten into fights with his parents (albeit the mom more than either of the two dads combined), I can relate to those scenes too.  Cal’s presence is meant to establish that Joshua Jordan is human; it accomplishes that, and not much else.  However, there is one interesting scene where Cal has to defend his dad’s case.

You’ve probably noticed that I’ve focused on the A-plot—the Zimler plot, the overall political scene, and Jordan’s efforts to protect the defense system.  The fact of the matter is that the book focuses on so many of the overt “global” aspects of the potential end times—with an emphasis on the AmeriNews deal and tracking Zimler—that many of the characters feel diluted as a result.  The Jordans, Zimler, and Agent Gallagher are all fairly well-developed (and Jessica Tulrude, even with as few scenes as she appeared in, will probably make a decent antagonist for the rest of the series), but the overall narrative is very plot-oriented, and there’s very little time to slow down and get to know all the new guys.  We don’t even know that much about Pastor Campbell, which is somewhat egregious considering this is a Christian book series and he ends up tagging along for the last quarter of the book.

This brings me to my final analysis:  It’s an average book.  There’s nothing that you really take away from it.  As a Christian fiction novel, it’s probably decent, but no more than that.  As a thriller, again, it’s decent, and only decent.  If you don’t believe in the end times or God, it won’t change your mind.  If you do believe in the end times or God, you’ll probably like it (and if you’re a Left Behind fan, it’ll definitely be a step up).  As the noughties counterpart to the first Left Behind novel, it’s technically constructed better, but its resolution lacks the punch that Nicolae Carpathia’s U.N. scene had.  It ends with something that would work in a straightforward action scene or even a movie, but as setup for the sequels in an end times series, it simply fails to lure you in.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer.  Have you contributed lately?  What is God’s plan, how has he reviewed your life?  Are you enthusiastic about giving your life over to the Lord?