Bummer news for fans of Nick Park’s droll claymation creations (of which I am one, even though I haven’t gotten around to seeing the new Wallace and Gromit feature yet): the Aardman Animations studio in Bristol, England, has been utterly destroyed by fire. Casualties included the sets, props, and models from all three Wallace and Gromit shorts (A Grand Day Out, The Wrong Trousers, and A Close Shave), as well as from Park’s Oscar-winning Creature Comforts series and the company’s first feature-length release, Chicken Run. Items from the Wallace and Gromit movie that was just released this past weekend, The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, were unharmed.
Film Studies
Movie Review: Serenity
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don’t care, I’m still free
You can’t take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain’t comin’ back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can’t take the sky from me
There’s no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can’t take the sky from me…
–Opening theme from Firefly
Writer Joss Whedon reportedly pitched his television series Firefly as “the anti-Star Trek,” so it’s interesting to note that the show has followed a similar path as that classic series: unloved by network executives and cancelled before its time, Firefly, like Star Trek before it, spawned a fanatically loyal cult following that clamored for the show’s return, which it did this weekend in the form of a Whedon-directed feature film, Serenity. The difference between Firefly and Star Trek, however, is that Trek ran three seasons in its original incarnation; it held a sizable presence in the collective pop-cultural memory even before years of syndication made it into a household name. Firefly, by contrast, lasted a mere ten episodes before it was canned, and only 14 episodes were actually filmed.
Think about that. Most series that fail to run a complete season (usually 22 episodes these days) vanish without a trace, quickly forgotten by a fickle viewing public. But this show, which didn’t even make it half a season, somehow garnered enough attention after its death to come back on the Big Screen. Even if you don’t give a womp-rat’s exhaust port about cultish science-fiction media properties, that’s got to impress you because it’s so mind-bogglingly unlikely.
There’ll Be No One to Stop Us This Time…
Media critic Jaime J. Weinman maintains a pretty interesting blog called Something Old, Nothing New, on which he writes about the films, TV shows, theater, and music that interest him personally. As the title of the blog suggests, the focus is primarily on properties that are best described as “vintage.” (That means most of what this guy likes was made before you were born, kids.)
Today Jaime is discussing Alfred Hitchcock’s artistic decline following Psycho, the film for which he’s probably best known today, at least among the general, non-cinemaholic public. Jaime draws an interesting parallel between “Hitch” and The Great Flanneled One, George Lucas, pointing out that both men, upon achieving great power and autonomy in the wake of monstrous success, started making really bad creative decisions.
It’s a point I agree with. I’ve long maintained that there’s nothing wrong with the Star Wars prequels that couldn’t have been solved with an simple rewrite, or if someone had been willing to tell Uncle George, “That’s not such a good idea…”, or even to ask the simple question, “Why?” But no one dared do that because he is… George Lucas. And who is George Lucas? Contrary to the hysterical griping of disappointed ex-fanboys, he is not a talentless hack nor is he an evil money-grubber who’s more interested in the merchandising than the story. What he is, is a guy who thinks he doesn’t have to answer to anyone anymore. He thinks he did his part for king and country and now he doesn’t need to explain himself. I don’t blame him; if I was in his position, I wouldn’t want to be questioned either. The man reshaped the way movies are made, for God’s sake. But then so did Hitchcock in his day. And the same thing happened to his films that have happened to George’s. Go read Jaime to learn more…
[UPDATE: Interesting. Jaime has added an afterthought to his own post since I wrote this, downplaying the independence angle that caught my interest in the first place. Maybe Hitch was just getting old and suffering from a lack of confidence, he suggests. Maybe so… and maybe that applies to GL as well. Hard to say, I guess, without knowing the man. In any event, it’s still an interesting post and worth your time if you can spare it.]
Sartre Was an Optimist
A few days ago, the Significant Other and myself saw the new movie Lord of War, a thought-provoking drama about the world of illicit arms trading (that’s gunrunning, for you folks who favor more direct language). Through the experience of seeing this movie, we learned two very important things, neither of which has much to do with gunrunning.
The first is that Sean Means, the Salt Lake Tribune film critic who called this well-made, intelligent movie “morally bankrupt” before giving it a rating of “no stars” — a worse rating than he gave The Dukes of Hazzard, by the way — is an idiot.
And the second thing we learned is that most of the other people sharing the theater with us were idiots, too.
Is This The Best We Can Do for Movie Stars?
So, I saw the movie Wedding Crashers over the weekend. It was likable enough, if not quite deserving of the critical praise that’s been heaped upon it. I suspect folks are making a big deal out of this one because it’s the first film of its type in a very long time that appeals to grown-up sensibilities, rather than pandering to the mid-teen demographic. In other words, it’s an R-rated comedy about 30-something guys that happily admits to being what it is instead of compromising itself down to a PG-13 that’s too hard-core for kids and too wimpy for adults, as so many others have done in recent years. In that respect, the movie was quite refreshing, and I personally enjoyed seeing the aging-but-still-beautiful Jane Seymour and the aging-but-still-uber cool Christopher Walken in memorable supporting roles.
The movie did leave me with one big, nagging question, though: what is the deal with Owen Wilson?
The Greatest Cartoon Ever! Well, One of Them, Anyhow…
If you’re one of those readers who obsessively catalogs all my various likes and dislikes as expressed here on the blog — and you know who you are — let me state for the record that I think the greatest short-form animated films of all time are the classic Looney Tunes cartoons produced by Warner Brothers from the 1930s through the 1960s. You know, the stuff we used to watch on the old Bugs Bunny-Road Runner Show on Saturday mornings.
I Made Love to a Screaming Brain!
Pop quiz: who’s the coolest actor working in the film industry today? I’m thinking of someone who has appeared in both blockbusters and art-house movies, a journeyman actor who both headlines and does small character roles, a man who commands a legion of die-hard fans, and who is the very definition of “suave.”
Am I referring to Sean Connery? Nah, I said someone who’s still working today, and all the signs indicate that Sir Sean has retired. Harrison Ford? Hasn’t worked in several years, apparently content to spend his days playing Rescue Ranger in his helicopter. Tom Cruise? Please… the word “suave” hardly applies to someone who publicly abuses a sofa in the name of mid-life-crisis/publicity-stunt love. No, the person I have in mind is someone you could actually imagine yourself hanging out with, a regular guy who just happens to have landed a job a whole lot of people think they want (but would probably hate if they got it), and who has managed, somehow, against all odds, to forge a decades-long career in an industry that is finished with most people within a couple of years.
I’m talking about the one and only… Bruce Campbell.
Bennion’s Most Memorable Movie Quotes
No list-by-committee like the AFI’s Top 100 Whatevers is going to completely reflect any one person’s individual tastes. Given that this here blog-thingie lets me write about any damn thing I want to, I thought I’d supplement the previous entry with some of my own personal favorite movie quotes that didn’t make the “official” list. I present them in no particular order…
AFI’s Top 100 Movie Quotes
I don’t how this slipped past me, but it seems the American Film Institute has released another of those “Top 100 Something-or-other” lists, specifically (as the title of this post indicates) the 100 Greatest Movie Quotes of All Time.
This particular list is a good one, conversationally speaking, because it’s a subject that most everyone is qualified to comment on. Everybody seems has a favorite line from something, and it seems to me that trying to stump one another with obscure bits of dialogue has replaced charades as the most popular form of party entertainment in our culture today, at least in the circles in which I run.
I’m going to spare myself the trouble of retyping and/or reformatting the list, so you may want to go have a look at it on your own. Come back here when you’re finished, I’ll be waiting with a few thoughts…
Are you back? Great, then let’s discuss…
Terribly Amusing Zombie-related Item
Long-time readers may recall my fondness for the movie Shaun of the Dead, which was one of my top-five favorite films last year. Or, at least, it would’ve been, if I’d ever gotten around to compiling a top-five list. What can I say? Procrastination is my greatest vice.
Anyhow, I’m not generally a big fan of zombie movies, but Shaun was an amazing little feat of filmmaking — it stayed faithful to all the zombie-movie tropes while also subverting them for the purposes of humor and character development. It was a smart and entertaining love letter from its creators to the genre that it was spoofing. Now the creator of that genre is thanking the creators of Shaun in a very wonderful way. Here’s the relevant paragraph from an LA Times interview with George Romero, writer/director of the seminal zombie film Night of the Living Dead and the upcoming Land of the Dead (which opens Friday, if that’s your thing):
There were the pilgrimages of fans trekking to Toronto last winter for the freezing, all-nights “Land” shoot to fulfill lifelong dreams of being a Romero zombie. Two of those were Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg, who created last year’s respectful zombie spoof “Shaun of the Dead,” which Romero loved. “They’re the zombies at the photo booth,” tips Romero to their cameo in the film. “They shot their own little film [while] on set, and it’s going to be on the DVD.”
For the record, Simon Pegg played the title character in Shaun of the Dead and co-wrote the film with director Wright.
I just love this kind of intertextual stuff — in-jokes, homages, tributes, and “guest appearances” almost always make me smile. They’re like a wink-and-a-nod to the informed viewer (or reader, in the case of novels) that acknowledges the whole wide body of material out there and reminds us that it all relates on some level or other. I know this sort of thing bothers some people, but I think it’s fun. Almost fun enough to consider seeing Land of the Dead just for that half-second glimpse of my old buddy Shaun…