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?

The Brewhaha on..."Bleach Movie 4: Hell Chapter"

Yamamoto:  "It's all your fault, boy.  Because of you, the world will soon become hell."

Ichigo:  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I had no idea it was my fault.  I guess I shouldn't have asked the bad guys to BEAT ME UP, KIDNAP MY SISTER, AND TAKE HER TO HELL!!!"

-The heroes of our story...

"Alright this movie was AQWESOME ICHIGO KICKED SO MHYCH ASSWHERE ARE THE ESPADA I THOUGHOUT THE ESPADA WOULLD BE IN THIS MOIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111111""""
-tHE The typical fan's reaction

"Despite having the most hype of the four movies, it has gotten a mixed response from both Japanese and English-Speaking fans. Unlike the last three, which focused more on Character Development, this one was more action-oriented at the cost of a few jarring instances of Character Derailment."
-The TV Tropes entry on this movie

"Who are these fans and where can I find them?"
-Me, upon reading the TV Tropes entry


"Bleach" is an animal all its own, one of several anime series poised to take Dragon Ball's place as the longest-running shonen series ever.  It's a franchise which has spawned over 450 chapters of material (so far), a 300+ episode anime, a wealth of fans, seven musicals, and four movies, the last of which I plan on reviewing here.

It's also become one of the most controversial subjects as far as fans are concerned.  Drawn and written by "acclaimed" manga artist Tite Kubo, Bleach was first published in 2001, and after a few years it became a breakout hit in Japan, and later here in America.  Since then, it's starting sucking.  Hard.  To sum it up in so many words, Bleach is the heartwarming tale of a teenage delinquent named Ichigo who gains the power of a Shinigami, otherwise known as a "death god."  After a short (twenty episodes is considered "short" in Japan) introductory arc, Ichigo teams up with a five-to-seven man band of likewise superpowered individuals to participate in an escalating series of battles for his friends and the fate of...I dunno.  The world?  The afterlife?  A career in modeling?  Who knows?

Along with Dragon Ball Z, which has already become a household title here in the West, Bleach has been instructive in how an action-driven series can go so horribly wrong.  Fights become an arms race of power levels and special attacks, but as the physical stakes increase, the story itself has suffered.  Bleach has spent nearly half of its published life in the middle of a "war" story against the same antagonists.  Any individual battle between two combatants can take up to several weeks to finish (Bleach is a weekly series), and any one issue of Bleach will consist of reaction shots for ten pages, followed by one or two actual attacks; the sum of all these has been nearly five years of almost no plot development.  The anime itself has suffered, trying to pad out a twenty-minute episode based on twenty pages of reaction shots and characters staring at each other.

Since then, Kubo has spent the past year trying to bring the manga back to basics.  Ichigo has been (mostly) depowered, forced to face a group of relatively street-level antagonists in an effort to regain his powers.  The action takes place in the realm of us mere mortals once more, giving the impression that it's down-to-earth (although enlisting the aid of the other Shinigami may have ultimately rendered this moot).

The sum of these two elements is what makes up the fourth and latest movie, "Jingoku-Hen," or "Hell Chapter"--which tries so halfheartedly to reconcile the basics of the manga with the nonstop battles the series has ultimately become.  It doesn't help that, of all of the movies, it was endlessly hyped and billed as a fiery (pun intended), thrilling action movie, but for all of this it could have actually been a good movie.  Those two things don't have to be mutually exclusive (see "The Dark Knight," "Iron Man," "Goldeneye," etc.).

This blending of Bleach classic and Bleach/Dragonball Z could have been done well, and the juxtaposition of the two could have been much smoother.  The first minute and a half is a sort of action prologue, which shows Ulquiorra and a Hollowed-out Ichigo beating the crap out of each other.  It's smooth, it's brisk, it's well-animated, and it's exciting, something that few of the so-called battles in the series can boast anymore.  It also sets the tone for the movie:  it's going to be dark, it's going to be pitch-black, and you will see Hollow Ichigo before this movie is over...

Then, after the opening, we get Bleach Classic.  It looks like it's lifted wholesale from the first episode.  In fact, a buddy of mine (the same buddy who gave me those Bleach DVD's to begin with) thought it was the first episode ("Aw, not these guys again...").  This isn't a callback, it's blatant self-plagiarism.  That shouldn't even be possible.

The fight scenes are actually pretty good.  I wouldn't call them great, but they allow for a smooth back-and-forth between opponents, and they don't suffer from Kubo's usual trademarks, which usually involve one guy winning ridiculously easily while talking to the other guy about how ridiculously easily he's won (usually by having a stronger aura than the other guy).  Plus, since it's a movie, the fight scenes eventually have to...y'know, end?  It probably helps that the bad guys in this movie are from hell, and are therefore just "different," rather than just being outright stronger or weaker than the other characters.

It's when the action slows down that you start noticing things.  Like the fact that these guys from hell can just pop into our world whenever they want, even though they're supposedly looking for "freedom" from hell.  Or the one scene where Ichigo and Kokuto are traveling down some stairs, and Ichigo falls...somehow, and he tries to get back up, and Kokuto helps him up, and he's all like, "Let's go now, and forget this pointless twenty seconds of film ever happened."

Or the fact that a lot of the scenes in this movie are borrowed wholesale from the main series itself: you have the first scene in the series movie, Ichigo and his family's back-and-forth, and Rukia's "I-stick-the-sword-through-your-head" gambit during her main fight scene.  It's like they knew that this was just going to be a big old dumb action movie, and decided to give us just that while skimping on everything else. 

Nowhere is this more evident than the obligatory "boring talkie-talkie" scene between the hero and his "supervisor."  In the Yamamoto-Ichigo cop routine quoted above, Yamamoto calls out our hero for being a cowboy cop.  This scene is done to death in just about any movie where the hero is a loose cannon cop/FBI agent/U.S. soldier/bakery chef; the idea is that the authority figure is trying to minimize the damage our hero has caused, such as...I dunno, using his signature attack to BLOW OPEN THE HELLGATE AND UNLEASH HELL ITSELF ON THE WORLD!!!

Yamamoto makes a persuasive argument, considering this is the fabric of two worlds we're talking about.  But what he also forgets is that he, and his squadrons of Shinigami in general, can be overly bureaucratic when it comes to enforcing the rules of the Soul Society, and at one point, they tried to kill Ichigo and his friends upon enforcing said rules.  So Ichigo says "That was my sister they kidnapped!  You wanted me to just leave her there?!  She's my family!  You think a Shinigami can just look the other way when one of his own is in trouble?!  Well, I quit!  You can take this badge and shove it...."

Oh, wait, I forgot, Ichigo doesn't say anything.  Because power levels are all that matter in this series, and because Yamamoto has the highest power level in the series (with the possible exception of the main villain), and because Ichigo is all yelled-out from the last scene, and because he's a complete tool.  Why doesn't Ichigo say what we're thinking?  For that matter, if Yamamoto or any of Ichigo's mentors are so tough, why don't they go in there and take care of business?

For those of you who don't follow Bleach, what you need to understand is that Ichigo is one of those angsty, "down-to-earth" heroes who still has enough of that "idiot hero" in him to keep him from thinking things through.  He didn't used to be this bad before his inner Hollow (the...thing at the beginning of the movie) got out of control.  It might be an intentional piece of characterization in the movie; for my fellow Bleach fans out there, consider the "Deicide" arc in the main series, which takes place just after the events in the prologue and where we see him at his lowest point, and where he needs one final bout of training to break him out of his funk (and get his power level over 9000 at last).

A down-to-earth hero isn't a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination.  In the beginning, I think Kubo set out to write Ichigo as a character we could relate to.  But the thing about the shonen genre which Bleach is set in is that it's popularized the idea of an "idiot hero" who doesn't know what he's getting into, but faces it nonetheless.  At its best, any shonen manga or cartoon will give us a sort of "everyman," an audience surrogate who overcomes all obstacles in his path and climbs his way to the top through sheer, dogged determination; the ideal idiot hero will do this because he doesn't know any better.

Kubo tried to give us this.  Unfortunately, he also tried to deconstruct the ideas within the shonen genre, while still cussedly sticking to shonen conventions such as escalating power levels and unbeatable foes.  Halfway through the series, Ichigo's possible love interest Orihime is kidnapped; the bad guys basically did this to get his "attention" and lure him to his death.  Since he's an idiot, he falls for this hook, line, and sinker, rather than actually listening to the otherworldly beings around him, which is admirable, but in this series turns out to be futile.  From that point on, the latter half of the series is devoted to showing us just how much of an idiot Ichigo is, how weak he is against the real bad guys, and how much he just sucks in general.  (Plus, as many fans will tell you, he's doing all of this for some chick.)

At Ichigo's best, we think he's pretty badass, and in this movie I've somehow stopped discussing, he is.  At his worst, though, we wonder why he's the main character at all.  (It seems as though Spider-Man has the same problem.)  Just ask a fan who their favorite character in the series is.  Then ask them who their second favorite is.  Then just keep going like this until you reach around the fifties or sixties or thereabouts.

These problems with the main character aren't quite as prevalent in the movie, but for anyone familiar with the series, there's still a bitter aftertaste.  It doesn't help that the plot of this movie is a rehash of the infamous Hueco Mundo plot, which I've basically just discussed.  For the purposes of the film, though, it helps that the bad guys explicitly tell Ichigo that they need him alive, and they need the power of his Hollow (in the series, this sort of justification for Ichigo's continued existence was an afterthought, even if Orihime was around to heal him). 

In my humble opinion, his power-up at the end of the movie (unless you've seen the trailer, I guess I've spoiled you) actually made more sense than his final power-up in the series.  In the series, he just goes through three or so months of unforeshadowed training, and suddenly he can do it.  In the movie, they go through the trouble of showing you that hell somehow affects his unique biology, causing his Hollow powers to flare up (and if he can absorb spirit particles, why not?).  Both cases are anti-climactic, but in the movie's case, it at least makes sense.

The movie's villains are basically filler villains we'll never see again, which means they range from being cardboard cutouts and/or camp gay (re:  a purple-haired bishonen and a fat guy who attacks you with giant kisses) to fleshed-out, three-dimensional characters (albeit characters who still have to be put down like Old Yeller, eventually).  For all the faults with the movie, they nailed Kokuto.  He's got a cool design, he has great fight scenes, he's well-acted, he's badass, and he's an anti villain without being too sympathetic (anyone who's seen the trailers knows they spoiled the freaking ending).  There's a reason you don't recruit someone from hell to be on your team.

This brings us to hell itself.  Considering Bleach is a series about gods of freaking death, and considering the amount of time they've spent fighting bad guys (for given values of "bad"), hell has never really come up (Hueco Mundo kinda counts, but you can still come and go at will as long as you're not worried about Shinigami exorcising your soul).  Considering Bleach is a series about gods of freaking death, they've always played death fairly straight; it's based on a reincarnation cycle, where all souls go back and forth between our world and Soul Society, with two abberations:  the Hollows (souls who stick around here for a bit too long) and those who wind up in hell, which is what happens when you've done something so bad that the reincarnation cycle won't even touch you. 

The "sinners" inside hell can apparently make brief jaunts to the world of the living, but they have to wear masks or something over their faces, or else the "Hell's Will" drags them back inside.  Their face either has to be covered completely, or...not.  Either they have to do that, or they don't.  The group at the beginning needs their masks, but Kokuto only has his face partially covered.  Why?  (idk lol) 

It's a world of badly-rendered CGI blocks and kaiju are apparently the enforcers of hell (the Hell's Will), but it's still pretty damn scary.  The sick part is that you can die in hell, but you just come back right afterward, so "death" isn't really death in hell.  And this can happen so many times until you eventually just break, and stop bothering to fight (Himura Kenshin's good friend Shishio would be disgusted with these schmucks).  Why all these poor people can't travel to our world like the villains can is beyond me, although that's probably why Kubo withdrew his name from this movie (evidently even he has standards). 

The CGI blocks are on the first level of hell, with a vast ocean and sky in the second level below that, a dark realm with oceans of acid on the third level, and finally Dante's Inferno and/or the Mustafar system from "Revenge of the Sith" on the fourth level, which is where the bad guys are.  The actual sinners mostly stay on the first level of hell (again, with the exception of the bad guys, who are just that cool) and they won't attack you, but Hell's Will...shall attack you, and if you're just visiting hell and you die, you become a sinner and you're trapped in hell, even though you didn't actually...sin at all, hence the misleading name.  So you have to go through all these levels and avoid getting killed and if you press A + X + Y + A + A you can go Bankai for five seconds but if you press that combo + X + O + Z and then bang on your console five times you can stay in Bankai indefinitely and you fight this guy with swords of fire who shoots fire at you but you can Triple Jump and do your Finishing Combo from the third game which you should have loaded using the Jump Pak and finish off fire guy but watch out 'cuz there's a surprise bonus boss and he'll shank you if you're not careful!

So...TL;DR?

Obviously I'm a fan of Bleach, more or less.  It has potential, and some pretty good ideas.  It also has some terrible flaws, namely in its main character, and in its execution of its potential ideas, along with its general idea of what an action series should be.  The Hell Chapter is meant to satisfy fans more than anything, but even in the case of many fans, it begs the questions:  Why is any of this happening?  Why are these characters doing these things?  Why on earth does Ichigo look like a KISS reject?  It's like a lozenge to quell the bitter aftertaste of Bleach in general, but after two hours, you'll still feel it all over again.

It sounds like a cool video game, though.

Note:  The Brewsky kinda quit for...most of the fall.  Also, this page has no backgrounds.  See you in twenty.

The Brewhaha on..."Thor" (2011)

“Oh, no…this is Earth, isn’t it?”
-Thor, who clearly has no love for “Midgard”

“The standards for comic book superhero movies have been established by ‘Superman,’ ‘The Dark Knight,’ ‘Spider-Man 2’ and ‘Iron Man.’ […] Consider even the comparable villains (Lex Luthor, the Joker, Doc Ock and Obadiah Stane). Memories of all four come instantly to mind. Will you be thinking of Loki six minutes after this movie is over?”

-Roger Ebert

“I completely see how Thor could be a really fun character in an Avengers movie. With Downey Man cracking jokes he doesn’t get and feeling competitive with Hulk on strength and Black Widow wanting to get into his armor, he can be a lot of fun. And this film was not painful to watch… but it was no pleasure.”
-David Poland, Movie City News

“Thor, however preposterous, is never quite stupid—which, given the prevailing norms of contemporary action filmmaking, is a notable accomplishment. Hemsworth (an Australian import best know to American audiences for his role as Kirk's doomed dad in Star Trek) brings a dose of wit and charm to the lead role; Hiddleston underplays Loki nicely; and Portman, Skarsgard, Hopkins, and Dennings deliver their customary talents.”
-Christopher Orr, The Atlantic

The underlying premise behind “The Mighty Thor” when he was first created by Stan Lee and his mad geniuses at Marvel was the concept of a Superman-type character, a literal god sent to Earth.  He’s stronger than Iron Man, stronger than the Hulk, and definitely stronger than that wuss who webslings from building to building.  This is the basic appeal of Thor.  That, and the fact that he’s a goddamn Viking.

As noted in my Green Lantern review, though, there are thinkers and there are doers.  The mighty Thor is camped resolutely in the latter, impulsive and all but eager to unleash the full, unrivaled fury of his nigh-titanic hammer Mjolnir on any unwary enough to usurp ownership of the treasured postcards Odin has claimed from his journeys to the lower realms (Pittsburgh, St. Louis, really anywhere but Jersey), much less the kingly barbecue and deep fat fryer set kept in the hallowed halls of Asgard and used only to celebrate those foes, great and endless, vanquished in single combat when the Odinson should decide to “take it outside.”

But when, against the protests of his friends and family, Thor takes it outside one time too many, his father, who has vanquished multitudes of enemies throughout the nine realms and has aged into a wiser and more benevolent king of realms over the passing of the millennia, deems it necessary to strip his mightiest son of the hallowed Mjolnir, revoke his divine status, and banish him to the lower realm of Midgard, or what the mere “mortals” of that realm refer to as “Earth.”

It is at this point, this pivotal first glimpse his new life beyond the halls of Asgard, when the film starts, and it is indeed at this point when Thor, guardian of Asgard, son of Odin, keeper of the hammer Mjolnir, and battle-hardened conqueror of all who should set their unworthy eyes in his general direction, is struck by what the mortals refer to as a “car.”  Struck and fell not once, but twice, but not thrice, for the car would have learned its lesson the second time.  He is then also struck by the tazer of the fair wench riding in the car, but even this brief defeat was foreseen some time ago, for it was in the previews and thus all over the televisions of Midgard.

The greatest folly of the film, however, is the folly of its own personal superman, its mighty Norse star himself.  For as prudent as Thor’s downfall and exile to the realm of men is, so inevitable is the son of Odin’s eventual return.  The hallowed Mjolnir, nary Thor’s banishment and humbling spell of earthly existence, is still Thor’s birthright, a kingly armament which ravages all opposing armies and puts the finest weapons of the realms to shame—a weapon which Thor is destined to one day wield again.  How does a supposed filmmaker, a mere bard of the mortal realm, properly challenge a god?  What serial villains, what fevered imaginings of Midgard, could pose an appropriate antagonist for the mighty Thor himself?

Apparently, the finite, scrambling mortal minds of Midgard have deemed Loki, the trickster god himself, the villain proper for the great chronicle of Thor.   As well as a giant robot.  And…SHIELD. 

Why is SHIELD anywhere near this movie?  Am I the only one who remembers when SHIELD was confined as neatly as possible to the epilogue?  Why does every Marvel movie have to be a tie-in to all of the others?  “Iron Man” was the one to start this nonsense, and it was awesome when Nick Fury made his spoiler alert cameo, but since then, for some reason they can’t just make a Marvel movie that’s decent in its own right; it always has to be a tie-in to the damn Avengers.  Hell, Captain America is explicitly titled “The First Avenger.”  (To be fair, though, Loki sports the damn fine suit during the interrogation scene…)

Like any great tale, though, the legend of Thor is a clean, epic, and above all cautionary tale taken from the camp of the doers, the heroes who, if faced with Ragnarok, would rather die with Odin than serve under the devil, knowing little of caution and all of courage.  With every great hero, there exists between them and Valhalla not only the monsters without, but also the demons within—hubris, pride, bluntness, the lion who forgets to look before he leaps.  The Greeks had Odysseus, the Vikings had Thor, the Americans have Dr. House.  The film in question, in this tradition, represents Thor’s journey not simply to overcome the trickster god, but also to banish his hubris, recklessness, and blind willingness to start fights, just as Odin once banished him from Asgard.

And as befitting a Viking tale worthy of a god, like the plains spreading and growing in the spring thaw, a genesis of fine hair shall proclaim itself upon your chest.  The hot rush of battle, the cool malice of steel, the father’s love for his son, the son’s desire for wenches, the world-shattering clashes between gods, and the soothing power of the drink that must come afterward.  If you are a baby, a mere child in the ways of love, war, power, family, the many desires, sins, and vices of men and gods alike, you shall walk away that much closer to being a man.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer, a man among men.  Many claim to be his equal, but...wait, is it "be" his equal or "be-eth" his equal?  I knew I shouldn't have droppeth out of school...

The Brewhaha on... "Horrible Bosses"

“I’m sorry.  I had no idea…”  *bursts out laughing*  “…that you called your grandmother ‘gam gam’!  I’m sorry…you didn’t get to say good-bye to gam gam!!!”

-Kevin Spacey, as himself

“The would-be assassins’ hopelessly bungling efforts produce a steady supply of laughs, though the jokes are often extremely rude and crude and the meandering plot doesn’t make the most of the film’s set-up. […]  Fortunately, the actors rise above the script.  Day’s shrieky performance is irritating, admittedly, but Bateman underplays beautifully and Spacey, Farrell and Anniston totally nail their despicable characters.”
-Jason Best, What’s On TV (U.K.)

 

“One by-product of a recession is that it traps people in jobs they don’t like under bosses they can’t stand, so the idea behind the comedy should have been timely and cathartic.  But here the script constantly sacrifices wit, heart and plausibility in pursuit of cheap laughs and filthy banter.”

-Chris Tookey, DailyMail.com

“Look at how crazy is the craziness we are doing for you. Isn’t it crazy? the movie shouts, and the more it does, the less you’ll laugh. This thing has a ‘The Hangover’ hangover.”

-Kyle Smith, The New York Post

Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikis, and…that guy from “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”…star alongside their opposites in Colin Farrell, Jennifer Aniston, and Kevin Spacey, the title characters of the black comedy “Horrible Bosses.”  Specifically, the title cartoon characters.

We, as moviegoers, don’t ask much of our movies—well, besides decent casting and acting, proper direction, consistent characterization and tone, coherent cinematography and editing, and plausible writing and plot-building.  As well as gratuitous action pieces, precise and thrilling fight choreography, and attractive, over-feminized love interests placed in threatening situations while gradually losing all but the absolutely essential articles of clothing.  (The use of rambling, pseudo-philosophical monologues is also a plus as far as film critics go.  On a related note, I’m seriously looking forward to the new Dark Knight movie.)

The one thing viewers (well, at the least the viewer writing this) yearn for, though, is that a movie doesn’t stray too far from its basic premise, the strength of many an “indie” film given to us by the Judd Apatow school of filmmaking.  “Juno” gives an interesting exploration of teen pregnancy, “(500) Days of Summer” is a questioning look at romance, and “Scott Pilgrim,” as completely ridiculous as it is, shows us just how annoying a 22-year-old slacker can really be, and how much you want to punch him in the face.

By contrast, while “Horrible Bosses” is an interesting look at what can happen when three beleaguered employees are pushed too far by their abusive, apathetic, or just plain amoral bosses, it’s not really the interesting look at such a situation.  It’s a black comedy, it’s just not the black comedy I was hoping it would be.  Even with Charlie and his two Jasons at the helm, these otherwise excellent leading men just can’t salvage the script, which is basically “American Pie” meets “Nine to Five,” or if not the latter, then at least some mid-season story from “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” where the gang tries to off Frank or one of the other regular characters.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m simply tone-deaf when it comes to movie trailers.  When it comes to something like the upcoming “Cowboys and Aliens,” I can tell right away that it’s not going to be a typical cowboy movie, nor is it going to be a typical sci-fi movie (though with the onslaught of Hollywood aliens ever since Independence Day roared through theaters, one can never be sure).

But with something like…that one movie I must never speak of again…it was impossible for me to tell that there would be…ugh…romance to go along with the explosive spy action.  With this film, it should’ve been far easier to bridge the gap between my own expectations and what this movie would be:  the whole “gam gam” exchange, the scene where Charlie is trying to give Spacey the Heimlich maneuver, the prison interrogation where Bateman confesses to not being a good street racer—all of these were in the trailer, and should have been dead giveaways that this movie was going to be a bit too light on the “black” in “black comedy.”

The casting alone should have been another dead giveaway; Bateman and Charlie have built up cult followings over the years through their respective comedies of errors, “Arrested Development” and the above-mentioned “It’s Always Sunny.”  What the studio has given us is less a comedy involving murder and more simply a comedy of errors.  Charlie’s character is a reflection of this, in that he’s essentially the same character he plays in “It’s Always Sunny,” which is to say, a stammering, hopeless, somewhat well-meaning idiot.  And Bateman is essentially the same character he played in “Arrested Development,” which is to say, a condescending, wisecracking “generic” guy, and possibly the only sane character in the entire film.  And Sudeikis…I don’t even know.  He was in SNL, wasn’t he?

The same, thankfully, can’t be said of our antagonists, with some exception; as a president of sales who is despicable in every sense of the word, Spacey is at least channeling the now-overquoted nemesis of Superman in his latest role.  Meanwhile, Aniston, having left behind that one show all of my female friends keep referencing (besides Buffy) long ago, embraces her role as Nurse Nymphomaniac to an increasingly stammering Charlie, threatening to ruin his engagement to his would-be fiancé unless he has sex with her.  Rounding out the trio of bad bosses is one bald-cap-boasting Colin Farrell, who plays a coke fiend who abuses his new power as the company owner for…basically drugs, sex, and rock and roll (in other words, the Vince Neil approach). 

Completing the main cast is Jamie Foxx, who appears in a couple of scenes as a “murder consultant,” an ex-con who gives the protagonists advice on how to kill their bosses and how not to discriminate against individuals such as himself based on race.  Malcolm X he is not, though; he instead functions as a reminder of what happens when you walk into the first bar you find and try to find a hit man on the cheap.

The plot is the typical Hollywood fare, and the characters are written as such, dumbed down for the lowest common denominator.  Even before the halfway point of the movie, there are telltale signs of how much the story eventually spirals out of any semblance of control, tone, writing, or meaning:  for instance, Aniston’s character trying to mount Charlie in the middle of the exam room (the dentist’s office), Farrell’s character closing his office blinds and having an orgy in the middle of work, Sudeikis’s character shoving his genitalia into a pie.  (Okay, that last one might be from a different movie, but he might as well have…)  All of this typical Hollywood fare spirals into typical Hollywood hijinks, and then abruptly transitions into a typical Hollywood ending just when it seems like the story’s starting to resonate with its potential premise.

The end result is a movie that, while neither excellent nor horrible, is just ridiculously, absolutely, gratuitously typical.  An otherwise okay beginning transitions into an aimless hour or so, and then shifts abruptly into a near-incoherent and implausible ending; the sum of these parts is a lukewarm movie.  If nothing else, the actors, creators, and producers are clearly aiming for a darker version of “Hangover,” when all they’ve really given us is Hangover-lite.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer.  And some day, I am going to kill him.  Or I will hire someone to kill him.  (Just kidding.  Okay, not really.)

The Brewhaha on..."Deathly Hallows Part 2" + "Transformers 3"

"This is a masterful and worthy final chapter in the best franchises ever put to film."
-Richard Roeper, on that first movie

"Tone is for single-purpose machines. Consistency is for Decepticons. Michael Bay's ideal movie shifts from action movie to teen comedy to political drama with the same well-lubricated ease that his cars become men."
-Charlie Jane Anders, io9.com, on that second movie

"What the hell have you been doing all summer?"
-A buddy of mine

This summer definitely hasn’t been short on blockbusters.  Having opted to lock myself in the closet of my local movie theatre for the past few months in order to avoid paying for tickets (you know how expensive they are lately?), I can safely say I’ve caught my fair share of the latest films.

For starters, the Part 1 I reviewed before the turn of the year has promised the long-awaited finale to the Harry Potter series (with all the related trailers, merchandising, and fans camping out for days before the midnight premiere).  7/15 serves for many an antithesis and antidote to 9/11, recipients are turning out in droves with invitations to Voldemort’s funeral, those first eight notes to the Harry Potter theme will be ringing in my ears for the next year.  The other day I saw the top ten Harry Potter quotes on the back of a passerby’s shirt; the famous “Not my daughter, you bitch!” line was only number eight.

I can only assume the film I ended up seeing on 7/18 (because I didn’t feel like camping out the night before 7/15) was fairly faithful to the book, with some exception.  For instance, with every “Not my daughter, etc.,” there should have been an “M-word” thrown in.  This racial epithet in question was left out of the film version in an ill-advised attempt to avoid offending the “Muggle” crowd, while arguably detracting from the character arc of a certain fan favorite.

Plus, unlike many fans, I came out (or rather, was dragged kicking and screaming out) of the theater not necessarily hating the epilogue.  It served as a nice coda to the series, establishing the characters we’ve come to grow up with as adult wizards in their own right while introducing us to a new generation of wizards not unlike the main trio back in “The Sorcerer’s Stone.”  It was almost as if the whole world was starting fresh again after the war against Voldemort.  (Personally, I’m looking forward to the ninth movie, in which Harry Potter treats his kid to Chuck E. Cheese.)

The war itself was handled like anything else in Hollywood—namely, with a lot of flash and noise.  If there’s a spell for sound and fury, this film pulled it off.  Harry Potter and co. have been on the lam for most of their seventh year, but their quest for the Horcruxes, picking up where they left off in Deathly Hallows Part 1, soon takes them back to Hogwarts, where one of the teachers randomly chases off the new, EEEVIIIILLL headmaster Snape.  (Why McGonagall waits for the better part of a year before doing anything is beyond me, though I suppose the EEEEEEVVVVIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLL Lord Voldemort being BAAAACCCKKK might have a lot to do with it.)

Then, as the main characters start trying to whittle away at old Voldy’s horcruxes, the film slowly rises to a climax, and then backs off of that climax, and then races back to try and retrace its steps, and then realizes it’s forgotten something back at the office, and then there’s some sort of…thing…snake?...phoenix?...giant spell made of fire our heroes have to outrun outfly, all while saving that one blond kid I grew to hate over the course of the series.  Then, as the film reaches its climax again, it’s had a few beers by now, so it stops and just starts pulling donuts in the parking lot, so you can’t tell which way it’s headed.

My point being, the life of a boy wizard is unbelievably awesome.  Depending on whether you’ve read the book or not, you may either share this view, or you may be waiting for Harry Potter to just jump in the fridge and wait for the nukes to go off.  Our boy wizard peeks back out long enough to watch Snape’s life flash before his eyes, and then the film, drinking some coffee to get itself “buzzed,” starts roaring toward the climax, a hundred miles an hour, and ends up ramming the fridge into a gas station.  Located next to a bus full of nuns.  Next to an orphanage.  My point is, there’s never a dull moment.

Speaking of dull moments, Molly Weasley got maybe two people in my theater (including myself) to clap for her.  That’s sad, isn’t it?  Neville Longbottom got a round of applause out of the right half of the theater, but Molly “Not My Daughter You Bitch” Weasley gets two people.  To be fair, Neville did take out a horcrux, and Mrs. Weasley…never really got that much focus in the movies anyway…

Another new movie I was looking forward to is Transformers 3.  I’ve seen the first, and while it makes for an okay action movie and an okay (if somewhat implausible) sci-fi movie, it probably isn’t the best Transformers movie, in that there’s too much focus on the humans and not enough on those giant robots they’re all either running away from, making friends with, or trying to blow up.

My comment about nuking the fridge comes to mind when referring to the second movie, in that Michael Bay went out of his way not just to nuke the fridge, but to try and nuke the sun.  I remember something about an old guy-type Transformer, wizened and hunched over, with a beard made out of little aluminum tendrils, but unlike the other two movies, I never saw “Revenge of the Fallen” in the theater, so I was actually spending most of that movie doing homework, checking my emails, and messing around on the all-consuming black hole that is TV Tropes.

“Transformers 3:  Dark of the Moon” was a back-to-basics approach in that it was an okay action movie and an okay (if somewhat implausible) sci-fi movie, but also not the best Transformers movie, in that there is too much focus on the humans and not enough on those giant robots that just got captured offscreen.  Also, Megatron is a punk in this one.  He is an absolute blight on movie villains everywhere, and every time he was onscreen, I either felt pity for the poor soul, or I just wanted to facepalm.  (Seriously, the Beast Wars version of Megatron would be disappointed.  Yeeesss…)

Where Megatron himself is lacking, though, the other Transformers have much more distinct motivations in this film, and the backstory (including the actual presence of Cybertron) seems more fleshed-out this time.  Mind you, even Optimus wasn’t someone I really felt like rooting for when it was all said and done, and all this film really did for me was reinforce the stereotype that machines will destroy us all in the future, but it introduced us to Transformers beyond “good guys” and “bad guys.”  Like big (i.e., car-sized) Transformers and the little ones Sam Witwicky’s been keeping with him for some reason.

Speaking of Witwicky, he’s kind of the hero.  He has some plot about a new girlfriend, and not being able to get a job, and there’s also this other guy he’s jealous of, but let’s face it, you’re not going to see movies like this for those meatbag human characters.  You came to see the robots.

The nice thing about Transformers 3 is that there’s at least an A-plot.  Mind you, the same thing could probably be said about the second one too, but the latest edition is quick to tie in the exploits of us meatbags (what with that whole “moon landing” we all make such a big deal about) with the war between the Cybertronians (or the Transformers, as us meatbags call them).  And while it still fulfills its role as a straightforward action movie, especially with a climax that just keeps dragging and dragging and dragging for upwards of the last hour, there are much darker undertones to this tale of boy meets city-destroying robots.  I know this because some characters died, some other characters betrayed the rest of the characters, and because Michael Bay said so.

A question to filmmakers, though:  What is the big deal about 3-D?  The trailers and commercials make better use of the 3-D technology than Michael Bay did.  Sure, the little CGI mascot demonstrating how our $3 glasses work just jumps off the screen, but the most we get out of Transformers is a little explosive debris headed our way.  Why so stingy with the visual effects?  If robots are destroying our world, I want to be able to feel like my fragile human form is about to perish at the might of headache-inducing action sequences.

Note:  The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer.  He’s a cool guy.  Eh’s engaged to a girl at the local theater, and doesn’t afraid of anything.

The Brewhaha on..."Green Lantern"

“The one thing a Green Lantern is supposed to be is fearless.  That isn’t me…”
-Ryan Reynolds, as himself

“Is it possible that the comics franchise is inherently retrograde? Does the commitment to childish characters and mindless action prevent creativity, believability, intelligence? Hal Jordan’s magical ring of virtue, given to him by the intergalactic Green Lantern Corps is a talisman devolved from Wagner and Tolkien. […] The action stays superficial despite Campbell’s advance in the depiction of disaster as spectacle; disaster doesn’t just happen but is full of threat and, importantly, witnessed by many.”
-Armond White, New York Press

“Filled with unintentionally laughable characters, intergalactic gobbledygook, sudden pacing shifts and a hero whose superpower is downright cartoony, this latest comic adaptation makes something like ‘Spider-Man’ look both grounded and brilliant.  It's ‘Star Wars’ meets Tex Avery with blotches of feel-good therapy thrown in, garnished with light shows and destructo scenes.”

-Tom Long, Detroit News

“Overall, director Martin Campbell and his screenwriting quartet do a much better job with the film's Earth-based story lines - especially its gothic horror arc - than the portions set on Oa. Many of the effects are good, trippy fun, and the 3-D conversion is A-OK. But a movie that advocates the power of imagination might have tapped a bit more of the stuff itself.”
-Amy Biancolli, The Houston Chronicle

For something as potentially epic as a Green Lantern film, it’s sad to hear comparisons to the much-maligned “Daredevil” film.  There’s nothing particularly bad about the new “Green Lantern” starring Ryan Reynolds as the title character…but on the other hand, nothing particularly outstanding about it either.  It’s basically an unimaginative, by-the-numbers, CGI-filled superhero film.

"Green Lantern” was directed by Martin Campbell, who was at the helm for films such as “Casino Royale,” “Goldeneye,” and “The Mask of Zorro.”  On top of this, the screenplay was provided by nearly half a dozen writers.  So what could have gone wrong?

Well, if you asked me, and you asked my friends, not much, if anything at all.  Ryan Reynolds (not to be confused with his replacement in the 90’s, or the original one, or the black guy from “Justice League,” or the nearly 3,000 other Lanterns from all over the universe) gets his ring, gets the girl, creates a freaking machine gun out of pure willpower, and saves the day.   A couple of my friends went to see it in 3-D (which, even without the glasses, I could tell the filmmakers easily capitalized on) and were blown away.

The sad truth is that, for all of the glowing green cosmic power and emerald constructs at a Lantern’s disposal, and all the glowing green CGI at Hollywood’s disposal, “Green Lantern” never really boasts anything truly original or unique.

You might remember in my review for “Galaxy Quest” that I mentioned being “turned off” of anything sci-fi, specifically by one crazed Star Wars fan.  You see, every once in a while, you run into one of those Star Wars fans who will assure you that a Star Wars movie (or prequel, or game, or cartoon, or the endless list of EU novels) is “great” based on how much its characters throw around light sabers and Force powers.  When this friend in question decided to show me five…FIVE!!!…different endings for the Force Unleashed, I couldn’t have cared less about this secret Sith apprentice Vader has apparently had all this time.  In fact, I grew to hate the guy.  (And as they all say, hate leads to suffering…)

“Green Lantern’s” cardinal sin is much the same, in that they “Force”-feed us a Luke Skywalker-in-training-type character whose starting powerset alone would probably put the Super Friends themselves to shame.  There’s no tension when you basically have a magic “do-or-make-whatever-the-hell-I-want” button.

Comparisons to the original Skywalker aside, though, Ryan Reynolds is at least in that rare class of movie heroes (along with Iron Man, Superman, and possibly Spider-Man around the first hour or so) who seems to enjoy what he does.  The movie also benefits from the presence of fellow Lantern Sinestro (excellently portrayed by Mark Strong and himself not a great victim of the film’s overuse of CGI), no doubt a potential General Zod should a sequel ever come up.

I would agree with the general consensus that the Earth-based portions of the movie were the strongest, especially upon the introduction of a human villain, one Hector Hammond (who is played either by the guy from “Jarhead,” or Hyde from “That 70’s Show,” it was hard to tell).  One could argue he doesn’t necessarily make a great villain, but that’s probably the point; he’s basically the end result of an intellectual, introverted nervous wreck who ends up biting off more than he can chew, and he makes a disturbing contrast with the fratboy hijinks of Reynolds’s character—a contrast that doesn’t quite escape the attention of Hammond’s father (“Some people are thinkers, and some people are doers…”).

Other than that, though, there isn’t much to say about “Green Lantern” that can’t be said about lots of other superhero films, or other films in general.  Despite the conflict eventually degenerating into an almost embarrassing CGI-fest once Parallax finally shows up, the movie still manages to end on a high, if somewhat cheesy note.

Note:  The Brewksy is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer. 

He wants you to see this movie.