When the three-minute trailer for the "Dead Island" video game hit the internet a few days ago, it was to near universal acclaim. The trailer features no game footage and none of the main characters, but rather a computer-animated scene from the game's zombie-infested universe. It's essentially a three-minute short made to sell the "Dead Island" concept, portraying the graphic death of a little girl and her parents when they fall victim to a zombie attack. With a Christopher Nolan-style structure that intercuts pieces of footage that are running backwards and forwards from the same timeline, the short is unusually cinematic and effective. Immediately, rumors began swirling that Hollywood was ready to pounce on the rights to the game in order to turn "Dead Island" into a film.
These rumors proved to be wildly overblown, but considering that Michael Bay's Platinum Dunes just acquired the rights to something called "Zombies vs. Robots," it's understandable why so many industry watchers pegged "Dead Island" as a desirable property. Having watched the trailer a few times now and reading up on what the game actually entails, I don't think there's really anything special about the "Dead Island" concept that would be worth the effort to acquire. The game follows people stuck on an island with zombies, more or less the same idea behind the proposed sequel to Zack Snyder's remake of "Dawn of the Dead," which happened to end with its survivors stuck on an island with zombies. Plans to pick up the story from there never panned out, and the next film in the series, "Day of the Dead," dropped the continuity entirely and started over.
Credit for the excellence of the "Dead Island" trailer should really go to its director, Stuart Aitkin, and the creative team from Axis Animation. Having sat through a lot of crummy, sub-par game animation, I know it takes a lot of effort to make realistic CGI human characters like this seem compelling. I think it only works here because the trailer is short, there is no dialogue, and the narrative gimmick hasn't been applied to zombies before. If the characters were required to do more than run around in a slow-motion panic, and get themselves eaten, I think they'd hit Uncanny Valley territory very quickly. Notably, the opening shot of the dead girl is really the only time we have a close-up of any character's face for more than a second or two, and the CGI graphics are actually very helpful in making the kid look all dead-eyed, stiff, and lifeless.
If the "Dead Island" trailer is proof of anything, it's that Stuart Aitkin might deserve a shot at directing something bigger - maybe a full length animated feature or the next live-action installment of the "28 Days" franchise. Maybe Michael Bay could use some help with pitting zombies against robots. Unfortunately, much as I wish that things were different, I think a straight animated adaptation is out. By all indications, mainstream audiences are not ready for dark animated horror films after the abysmal performances of "Beowulf" and "9." Animation is one of the few ways you could get iffy content like graphic child murder on the big screen without a major fuss, but I doubt enough horror fans would show up for literal cartoon violence to make it profitable. But if it were filmed in live action, the material would have to be compromised.
I certainly don't mean to disparage the trailer, but I've seen a lot of people jumping to conclusions about why it worked as well as it did and the kind of potential it has to be parlayed into future projects. I think it makes a wonderful short, but I have serious doubts as to whether you could stretch out these three minutes of slickly presented footage into a feature film. The visuals are impressive, but this is because they're well directed, not because they're particularly distinctive or well animated. The story it tells is touching, but only because of the interesting way it's being told. We haven't even seen the "Dead Island" game yet, and there's nothing to indicate that it's going to be any different than any other zombie game that's already on the market. The trailer did what it was supposed to and put the title on everyone's radar, but that I'm not convinced that we're looking at the hot new horror franchise here in any medium.
On the other hand, "Zombies vs. Robots"?! Michael Bay, have you no shame?
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
"Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior" Liveblog
And now, because I really have no interest in writing up a full review for this show and yet I still feel the need to convey my frustrations, here I am liveblogging the second episode of "Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior."
10:00 PM - Opening murder scene flashback, where unnamed male and female voices trade cliched pervert/victim dialogue, and fail to be as creepy or as pervy as probably intended.
10:02 PM - Forrest Whitaker shows up on a motorcycle, because motorcycles are shorthand for badass.
10:04 PM - Was that a title sequence? Damn, blink and you miss them these days.
10:08 PM - Back from commercial. Note the lack of the usual "Criminal Minds" opening pretentious quote, which ensures a higher chance of the viewer mistaking this for any other generic CBS crime drama.
10:10 PM - To be on this team, you need to have a degree in snark. Bonus points for being able to rattle off gadget statistics like a Fry's Electronics savant.
10:11 PM - Forrest Whitaker emulates Bill Shatner in a desperate attempt to make the dialogue sound competent.
10:12 PM - Was Garcia's head caught in a blender? Full of carrot juice?
10:14 PM - This whole "stone-cold killer" label is really undercut by the droning narration. Are the actors paid more if they don't emote? They just sound bored.
10:18 PM - Let's review our leads - Sam Cooper (Forrest Whitaker), Beth Griffith (Janeane Garofalo), Bald Guy (Michael Kelly), British Accent (Matt Ryan), Blonde ("TRON Legacy" hottie, Beau Garrett), and Garcia (Kristen Vangness). I shudder to think what would happen if Garcia weren't here.
10:20 PM - Cue the twenty-year old actress trying to pass herself off as a high-school age stabbing victim.
10:24 PM - Cue the standard impassioned mother speech. The daughter's supposed to be fourteen? No, really?
10:30 PM - If this unsub is so smart, maybe he shouldn't be provoking the armed Feds.
10:33 PM - I'm guessing the killer is either a split personality or it's a
Svengali/Stockholm situation. Whitaker goes for Svengali.
10:36 PM - Oh, NOW he wants counsel present.
10:38 PM - Need an exposition and backstory dump? Call Garcia. I know she's supposed to be a hacker genius, but they're just going to have to come out and admit that she's secretly made of magic.
10:40 PM - "I need to be alone with my client." Bow chica wow wow.
10:41 PM - Wouldn't that just be the most wonderful excuse? A charismatic criminal mastermind made me sleep with all those other men! I had no control over my actions!
10:43 PM - I love how mentally unstable emotional basket-cases can somehow flip a switch in their heads to go all iceberg in order to pull off complicated criminal schemes complete with misdirection and disguises.
10:48 PM - I approve of Adrien Brody's Stella Artois commercial.
10:50 PM - I'd buy this scenario so much more if the woman being controlled wasn't so obviously a photogenic actress who looks like she just walked out of a salon instead of a mental institution. This is why I always liked the original "Law & Order." Their criminals usually have the decency to look like hell. And their Svengali would be so much more convincing if he wasn't MADE OF HAM.
10:52 PM - Janeane Garofalo's very good at being an aggressive lady-cop. It's too bad that she doesn't have much to work with here. Would it be too much to ask for to get her a personality beyond righteous sarcastic? Or at least some better zingers?
10:55 PM - Put away the Gregorian chanting! Too much! Too much! You know, that death scene might have actually been effective if it weren't so oversold. With a score like that, I was expecting her head to split open and start spewing CGI bats.
10:57 PM - Was Whitaker's scene with the reverend supposed to be character development? Closure? Were the vague Biblical references and taunting from the B-grade psycho wannabe something that actually needed a visit with religious counsel?
10:58 PM - Oh, I was wrong. They closed with a Haruki Murakami quote. Which really had nothing to do with this week's plot. Natch.
Here endeth the liveblog. And any urge I have to watch any further installments of "Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior." Good night.
10:00 PM - Opening murder scene flashback, where unnamed male and female voices trade cliched pervert/victim dialogue, and fail to be as creepy or as pervy as probably intended.
10:02 PM - Forrest Whitaker shows up on a motorcycle, because motorcycles are shorthand for badass.
10:04 PM - Was that a title sequence? Damn, blink and you miss them these days.
10:08 PM - Back from commercial. Note the lack of the usual "Criminal Minds" opening pretentious quote, which ensures a higher chance of the viewer mistaking this for any other generic CBS crime drama.
10:10 PM - To be on this team, you need to have a degree in snark. Bonus points for being able to rattle off gadget statistics like a Fry's Electronics savant.
10:11 PM - Forrest Whitaker emulates Bill Shatner in a desperate attempt to make the dialogue sound competent.
10:12 PM - Was Garcia's head caught in a blender? Full of carrot juice?
10:14 PM - This whole "stone-cold killer" label is really undercut by the droning narration. Are the actors paid more if they don't emote? They just sound bored.
10:18 PM - Let's review our leads - Sam Cooper (Forrest Whitaker), Beth Griffith (Janeane Garofalo), Bald Guy (Michael Kelly), British Accent (Matt Ryan), Blonde ("TRON Legacy" hottie, Beau Garrett), and Garcia (Kristen Vangness). I shudder to think what would happen if Garcia weren't here.
10:20 PM - Cue the twenty-year old actress trying to pass herself off as a high-school age stabbing victim.
10:24 PM - Cue the standard impassioned mother speech. The daughter's supposed to be fourteen? No, really?
10:30 PM - If this unsub is so smart, maybe he shouldn't be provoking the armed Feds.
10:33 PM - I'm guessing the killer is either a split personality or it's a
Svengali/Stockholm situation. Whitaker goes for Svengali.
10:36 PM - Oh, NOW he wants counsel present.
10:38 PM - Need an exposition and backstory dump? Call Garcia. I know she's supposed to be a hacker genius, but they're just going to have to come out and admit that she's secretly made of magic.
10:40 PM - "I need to be alone with my client." Bow chica wow wow.
10:41 PM - Wouldn't that just be the most wonderful excuse? A charismatic criminal mastermind made me sleep with all those other men! I had no control over my actions!
10:43 PM - I love how mentally unstable emotional basket-cases can somehow flip a switch in their heads to go all iceberg in order to pull off complicated criminal schemes complete with misdirection and disguises.
10:48 PM - I approve of Adrien Brody's Stella Artois commercial.
10:50 PM - I'd buy this scenario so much more if the woman being controlled wasn't so obviously a photogenic actress who looks like she just walked out of a salon instead of a mental institution. This is why I always liked the original "Law & Order." Their criminals usually have the decency to look like hell. And their Svengali would be so much more convincing if he wasn't MADE OF HAM.
10:52 PM - Janeane Garofalo's very good at being an aggressive lady-cop. It's too bad that she doesn't have much to work with here. Would it be too much to ask for to get her a personality beyond righteous sarcastic? Or at least some better zingers?
10:55 PM - Put away the Gregorian chanting! Too much! Too much! You know, that death scene might have actually been effective if it weren't so oversold. With a score like that, I was expecting her head to split open and start spewing CGI bats.
10:57 PM - Was Whitaker's scene with the reverend supposed to be character development? Closure? Were the vague Biblical references and taunting from the B-grade psycho wannabe something that actually needed a visit with religious counsel?
10:58 PM - Oh, I was wrong. They closed with a Haruki Murakami quote. Which really had nothing to do with this week's plot. Natch.
Here endeth the liveblog. And any urge I have to watch any further installments of "Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior." Good night.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Ways to Shine Up the Oscar Telecast
On Sunday comes the king of all award shows, the Academy Awards. Its ratings have dropped over the years, and many people have pointed to the show's length and format as potential culprits. The Oscars usually run in excess of three hours, and its bylaws require that every competitive award it gives out be included in the televised broadcast, something the Grammys and Tonys don't have to worry about. The MTV Movie Awards, by comparison, scarcely run two hours, though MTV's video awards ceremonies and many other kudocasts rival Oscar's running times. In recent years, various producers have tried to make the show faster, leaner, and more appealing to younger audiences. Best Song performances have been cut to save time, but on Sunday they're staging a comeback. Montages were all the rage in 2010, but in 2011 they're out. We've seen experiments with different presentation options, scripted segments, pre-recorded videos, monologues, and all manner of wacky set designs. Some have come out better than others. And of course, like any random passerby, I have my own suggestions.
Cut down the number of presenters. I know that the Oscars are supposed to be a prime opportunity for stargazing, but there's no reason why you need different presenters for every single award, clip package, tribute, memorium, nominee spotlight, and to introduce Academy president Tom Sherak and the accountants. Every time you have a new presenter you need a new introduction, a new bit, and have to wait for that acknowledging round of applause. In some cases an introduction of a presenter can be longer than the presenter's actual appearance. Better to shift some of those duties to the hosts and the announcers instead of bombarding us with cameos by every bankable star in the Hollywood. Quality counts more than quantity. Fewer presenters also means that the ones who do get picked for the honor will have more time to actually do something memorable onstage. Besides, the endless Oscar red carpet preshows give audiences plenty of stargazing opportunities already.
Show, don't tell. Some Oscar telecasts have turned themselves into mini-film schools, explaining what certain categories are meant to honor, especially the more obscure technical ones like "Sound Editing." The categories for Best Shorts came under fire recently, and some suggested that they ought to be eliminated. This led to an Oscar telecast segment with familiar directors explaining why the categories were important and should be kept. It was a nice gesture, but highlights a key problem I have with the approach. I used to anticipate seeing the Animated Shorts category every year, because they would show brief clips of the nominees. In many recent broadcasts these have been eliminated, along with clips from other smaller categories, taking away the only chance for the national audience to see a couple of seconds of what's actually being nominated. The Oscars seem terrified of simply letting the work speak for itself, which is a shame. I'd rather look at the costume designs, production artwork, and special effects reels for a few moments more instead of listening to a presenter awkwardly try to convince us why these categories are worth our time.
Stop rushing. There's nothing that makes an award ceremony feel overlong than the people on stage trying to hurry their way through material and the orchestra being on a hair-trigger, ready to go off at the slightest sign of an acceptance speech that may go longer than twenty seconds. By all means, be jerks and cut people off in the name of expediency, but every time the music swells the audience is left straining to hear the poor recipient, and unconsciously expecting something climactic to happen. Maybe the orchestra cues could be replaced with the flashing light system from political debates. Or Charlie Rose calling time once they hit the limit. Or semaphore signals. And if the show is running long, for pete's sake, pretend that nothing is wrong. That extra five or ten minutes will go by a lot faster if the host doesn't suddenly stop quipping, and the presenters aren't rushing around like headless chickens. Some of those poor actresses simply can't move very fast in the getups they wear on Oscar night, and I'm always worried someone is going to take a spill. And then the show is just going to be longer, isn't it?
Loosen up a little. I'm all for tradition and I'm all for preserving Oscar's legacy of good taste and Hollywood elegance, but there's no reason why the atmosphere has to be so stuffy and self-important so often. An award show should be entertaining, be it through pageantry or jokes or just sheer star wattage. Instead of trying to micromanage the time it takes to hand out the awards, why not just insert a few more purely frivolous segments to keep the show's momentum going? Add a halftime show, like the similarly lengthy Superbowl uses to break things up. This doesn't necessarily mean song numbers and dance routines. Pretaped comedy segments, mashups, running jokes and parodies have worked in the past. There's no reason why the fun stuff has to be confined to the opening number, and they may work better if interspersed throughout the show. If montages are out, send Tina Fey and Will Ferrell on stage to re-enact the year's best moments in comedy. Or have the nominated directors quickly remake each other's films on the fly for laughs. Offer to have professional award recipients fill in for those winners who are too overwhelmed to talk coherently. With all this talent in the room, why not use it?
Finally, if the Academy Awards producers want to pander to the Internet generation, they should take a little inspiration from their target audience. Right now enterprising Youtube remixers and vidders do a better job of presenting the nominated material in ways we haven't seen before. Everyone's familiar with the same few clips of "The King's Speech" and "The Social Network" by this point. I know I'm sick to death of Jesse Eisenberg's "Do I have your full attention?" scene. Instead, when spotlighting "The Social Network," why not intercut his takedown with one of Colin Firth's stuttering fits as King George VI? Why not recruit the actors and shoot a quick alternate ending that reveals Facebook was the product of an "Inception" job by Leonardo DiCaprio? It's silly, sure, but it's the kind of material that keeps the audience on its toes and boredom at bay. One of my favorite Oscar skits in recent years was Seth Rogen and James Franco, as their marijuana-loving "Pineapple Express" characters, watching and commenting on the 2008 nominated films. At one point they convince celebrated cinematographer Janusz Kaminski (with his Oscars in tow!) to join them on the couch. The Academy could stand to poke more fun at itself, and a little irreverence never hurt anybody.
Or they could always hire Ricky Gervais to host. And duck.
Cut down the number of presenters. I know that the Oscars are supposed to be a prime opportunity for stargazing, but there's no reason why you need different presenters for every single award, clip package, tribute, memorium, nominee spotlight, and to introduce Academy president Tom Sherak and the accountants. Every time you have a new presenter you need a new introduction, a new bit, and have to wait for that acknowledging round of applause. In some cases an introduction of a presenter can be longer than the presenter's actual appearance. Better to shift some of those duties to the hosts and the announcers instead of bombarding us with cameos by every bankable star in the Hollywood. Quality counts more than quantity. Fewer presenters also means that the ones who do get picked for the honor will have more time to actually do something memorable onstage. Besides, the endless Oscar red carpet preshows give audiences plenty of stargazing opportunities already.
Show, don't tell. Some Oscar telecasts have turned themselves into mini-film schools, explaining what certain categories are meant to honor, especially the more obscure technical ones like "Sound Editing." The categories for Best Shorts came under fire recently, and some suggested that they ought to be eliminated. This led to an Oscar telecast segment with familiar directors explaining why the categories were important and should be kept. It was a nice gesture, but highlights a key problem I have with the approach. I used to anticipate seeing the Animated Shorts category every year, because they would show brief clips of the nominees. In many recent broadcasts these have been eliminated, along with clips from other smaller categories, taking away the only chance for the national audience to see a couple of seconds of what's actually being nominated. The Oscars seem terrified of simply letting the work speak for itself, which is a shame. I'd rather look at the costume designs, production artwork, and special effects reels for a few moments more instead of listening to a presenter awkwardly try to convince us why these categories are worth our time.
Stop rushing. There's nothing that makes an award ceremony feel overlong than the people on stage trying to hurry their way through material and the orchestra being on a hair-trigger, ready to go off at the slightest sign of an acceptance speech that may go longer than twenty seconds. By all means, be jerks and cut people off in the name of expediency, but every time the music swells the audience is left straining to hear the poor recipient, and unconsciously expecting something climactic to happen. Maybe the orchestra cues could be replaced with the flashing light system from political debates. Or Charlie Rose calling time once they hit the limit. Or semaphore signals. And if the show is running long, for pete's sake, pretend that nothing is wrong. That extra five or ten minutes will go by a lot faster if the host doesn't suddenly stop quipping, and the presenters aren't rushing around like headless chickens. Some of those poor actresses simply can't move very fast in the getups they wear on Oscar night, and I'm always worried someone is going to take a spill. And then the show is just going to be longer, isn't it?
Loosen up a little. I'm all for tradition and I'm all for preserving Oscar's legacy of good taste and Hollywood elegance, but there's no reason why the atmosphere has to be so stuffy and self-important so often. An award show should be entertaining, be it through pageantry or jokes or just sheer star wattage. Instead of trying to micromanage the time it takes to hand out the awards, why not just insert a few more purely frivolous segments to keep the show's momentum going? Add a halftime show, like the similarly lengthy Superbowl uses to break things up. This doesn't necessarily mean song numbers and dance routines. Pretaped comedy segments, mashups, running jokes and parodies have worked in the past. There's no reason why the fun stuff has to be confined to the opening number, and they may work better if interspersed throughout the show. If montages are out, send Tina Fey and Will Ferrell on stage to re-enact the year's best moments in comedy. Or have the nominated directors quickly remake each other's films on the fly for laughs. Offer to have professional award recipients fill in for those winners who are too overwhelmed to talk coherently. With all this talent in the room, why not use it?
Finally, if the Academy Awards producers want to pander to the Internet generation, they should take a little inspiration from their target audience. Right now enterprising Youtube remixers and vidders do a better job of presenting the nominated material in ways we haven't seen before. Everyone's familiar with the same few clips of "The King's Speech" and "The Social Network" by this point. I know I'm sick to death of Jesse Eisenberg's "Do I have your full attention?" scene. Instead, when spotlighting "The Social Network," why not intercut his takedown with one of Colin Firth's stuttering fits as King George VI? Why not recruit the actors and shoot a quick alternate ending that reveals Facebook was the product of an "Inception" job by Leonardo DiCaprio? It's silly, sure, but it's the kind of material that keeps the audience on its toes and boredom at bay. One of my favorite Oscar skits in recent years was Seth Rogen and James Franco, as their marijuana-loving "Pineapple Express" characters, watching and commenting on the 2008 nominated films. At one point they convince celebrated cinematographer Janusz Kaminski (with his Oscars in tow!) to join them on the couch. The Academy could stand to poke more fun at itself, and a little irreverence never hurt anybody.
Or they could always hire Ricky Gervais to host. And duck.
Monday, February 21, 2011
What Would a Lady Gaga Movie Look Like?
I love Lady Gaga. Not personally, not for her music, and not really for her performances either. I just adore her presence in the media, the attitude with which she cheerfully makes a spectacle of herself before anyone else tries to do it for her.
Madonna should have waited before Frenching Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera back at the 2003 MTV Music Awards, as her real successor didn't show up until 2009. Oh, Britney played with sexual identities and Christina's disastrous outfits had everyone's attention, but next to Lady Gaga, the self-dubbed Culture Monster, their titillations look positively timorous. Did you see the "Alejandro" music video? And the "Paparazzi" live performance where she simulated her own death onstage ? And the outfits - ohmigod, the outfits. She's a walking art installation, rotating between the provocative and the bizarre. Well, except when she's being carried around town in a giant egg. With her penchant for stunts, Gaga leads the media around by the nose and makes them like it. That's my kind of pop icon.
However, all divas inevitably travel certain paths in the course of their careers, and one of the usual stops is a feature film. Britney did "Crossroads," Mariah did "Glitter," Christina did "Burlesque," and of course Madonna, Cher, and Whitney Houston actually became bona fide actresses, briefly, in the early 90s. Lady Gaga has reached a certain standing in the pop culture firmament that would seem to compel her to tackle the silver screen next, if only to keep up with the likes of Justin Bieber. But how would you best translate the persona of Lady Gaga into movie form? Do you have a behind-the-scenes documentary like Michael Jackson's "This is It"? A biopic/concert film like "Never Say Never"? Or maybe turn one of her albums into a full blown musical, like Pink Floyd's "The Wall." She could even leaver her mark on the formula that most of her contemporaries have tried: the old small-town-girl-becomes-a-big-city-star plot.
Gaga's persona is strongly dependent on visuals, collages of image references and borrowed iconography from dozens of different sources, many of them already cinematic. Quentin Tarantino even loaned her the Pussy Wagon from "Kill Bill" for her "Telephone" music video. A feature film feels like the logical evolution of what she's already been doing. This is not to say that I'm in any hurry to see Lady Gaga turned into another commercial brand for Hollywood to exploit. Quite the opposite. I honestly think that she could create interesting films by taking the same approach to movies that she has with music and fashion. By pushing the common tropes of the music-film genres to their extremes, she could do what Joaquin Phoenix didn't didn't quite manage with "I'm Still Here," and make a movie that satirizes and illuminates the celebrity experience.
I've long wanted an "American Idiot" movie because the album provided such a wonderful snapshot of post-9/11 American alienation, and I'd love to see a Lady Gaga immortalize the Internet-celebrity age, where it's not enough to simply be a popular star. One must be self-aware, self-satirical, and self-deconstructing in order to survive the media gauntlet with soul and sanity intact. In a "60 Minutes" interview last week, Gaga acknowledged to Anderson Cooper that she was well aware that her audience was waiting to savor her tumble from grace and then cheer for a subsequent resurrection. Lady Gaga may not be interested in having in a full-blown celebrity meltdown in real life, but a film could be one way of exploring the meta-narrative that she's created for herself without suffering the personal damage that other pop starlets like Miley Cyrus have weathered recently.
Then again, an acting career could also be a good alternative to Lady Gaga for Stephani Germanotta if she gets tired of being a pop star one day. Other musicians like Mandy Moore, Jennifer Lopez, and Justin Timberlake have gone back and forth between acting and music. It's common for music stars to leave their stage personas behind when trying to break into Hollywood. On the other hand, it seems like such a shame not to take advantage of a media creature as vibrant and interesting as Lady Gaga. I wish others like Madonna hadn't been so quick to abandon their Material Girl selves in front of the cameras. Some of my favorite screen turns by musicians have been variants on their stage personalities, like Mick Jagger in "Performance," Whitney Houston in "The Bodyguard," and David Bowie - who is incapable of being anything but David Bowie - in just about everything.
Whatever Lady Gaga decides to do with regard to Hollywood, I hope she'll stick around for a while in some form or another. She may just be another incarnation of Madonna, but I think we always need a Madonna of some sort in the popular culture. When she went away, she left a void that hadn't been filled until now. And I missed her. It's so good to have a real provocateur around again.
Madonna should have waited before Frenching Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera back at the 2003 MTV Music Awards, as her real successor didn't show up until 2009. Oh, Britney played with sexual identities and Christina's disastrous outfits had everyone's attention, but next to Lady Gaga, the self-dubbed Culture Monster, their titillations look positively timorous. Did you see the "Alejandro" music video? And the "Paparazzi" live performance where she simulated her own death onstage ? And the outfits - ohmigod, the outfits. She's a walking art installation, rotating between the provocative and the bizarre. Well, except when she's being carried around town in a giant egg. With her penchant for stunts, Gaga leads the media around by the nose and makes them like it. That's my kind of pop icon.
However, all divas inevitably travel certain paths in the course of their careers, and one of the usual stops is a feature film. Britney did "Crossroads," Mariah did "Glitter," Christina did "Burlesque," and of course Madonna, Cher, and Whitney Houston actually became bona fide actresses, briefly, in the early 90s. Lady Gaga has reached a certain standing in the pop culture firmament that would seem to compel her to tackle the silver screen next, if only to keep up with the likes of Justin Bieber. But how would you best translate the persona of Lady Gaga into movie form? Do you have a behind-the-scenes documentary like Michael Jackson's "This is It"? A biopic/concert film like "Never Say Never"? Or maybe turn one of her albums into a full blown musical, like Pink Floyd's "The Wall." She could even leaver her mark on the formula that most of her contemporaries have tried: the old small-town-girl-becomes-a-big-city-star plot.
Gaga's persona is strongly dependent on visuals, collages of image references and borrowed iconography from dozens of different sources, many of them already cinematic. Quentin Tarantino even loaned her the Pussy Wagon from "Kill Bill" for her "Telephone" music video. A feature film feels like the logical evolution of what she's already been doing. This is not to say that I'm in any hurry to see Lady Gaga turned into another commercial brand for Hollywood to exploit. Quite the opposite. I honestly think that she could create interesting films by taking the same approach to movies that she has with music and fashion. By pushing the common tropes of the music-film genres to their extremes, she could do what Joaquin Phoenix didn't didn't quite manage with "I'm Still Here," and make a movie that satirizes and illuminates the celebrity experience.
I've long wanted an "American Idiot" movie because the album provided such a wonderful snapshot of post-9/11 American alienation, and I'd love to see a Lady Gaga immortalize the Internet-celebrity age, where it's not enough to simply be a popular star. One must be self-aware, self-satirical, and self-deconstructing in order to survive the media gauntlet with soul and sanity intact. In a "60 Minutes" interview last week, Gaga acknowledged to Anderson Cooper that she was well aware that her audience was waiting to savor her tumble from grace and then cheer for a subsequent resurrection. Lady Gaga may not be interested in having in a full-blown celebrity meltdown in real life, but a film could be one way of exploring the meta-narrative that she's created for herself without suffering the personal damage that other pop starlets like Miley Cyrus have weathered recently.
Then again, an acting career could also be a good alternative to Lady Gaga for Stephani Germanotta if she gets tired of being a pop star one day. Other musicians like Mandy Moore, Jennifer Lopez, and Justin Timberlake have gone back and forth between acting and music. It's common for music stars to leave their stage personas behind when trying to break into Hollywood. On the other hand, it seems like such a shame not to take advantage of a media creature as vibrant and interesting as Lady Gaga. I wish others like Madonna hadn't been so quick to abandon their Material Girl selves in front of the cameras. Some of my favorite screen turns by musicians have been variants on their stage personalities, like Mick Jagger in "Performance," Whitney Houston in "The Bodyguard," and David Bowie - who is incapable of being anything but David Bowie - in just about everything.
Whatever Lady Gaga decides to do with regard to Hollywood, I hope she'll stick around for a while in some form or another. She may just be another incarnation of Madonna, but I think we always need a Madonna of some sort in the popular culture. When she went away, she left a void that hadn't been filled until now. And I missed her. It's so good to have a real provocateur around again.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Confessions of an Audio Commentary Freak
The first time I watched "The French Connection," I thought it was a fine 70s thriller with a great chase scene toward the end, but I didn't understand why it was considered to be such a classic. So once the movie was over, I watched it again with director William Friedkin's commentary track, which clued me in on masses of historical and cultural context that helped me to better appreciate and enjoy the film. Much as I like saying that I'm pretensions movie fan, I have to admit that there are a lot important films that have gone over my head upon initial viewing, and left me confused and adrift. Sometimes a fangirl needs a little help, and I acknowledge that I wouldn't have warmed up to many beloved titles if it weren't for available supplementary material like Critereon essays, Wikipedia plot summaries, and audio commentary tracks. Commentaries are especially near and dear to my hear. I love listening to them, and I've actually bought and rented DVDs of films just to be able to access them.
Why do I enjoy them so? I think this stems from a love of meta and a fascination with the filmmaking process. The "making of" documentaries often packaged with a film are usually fun, but often too slick and superficial. I like commentaries better because they're more unfiltered, and if someone is talking for the entire length of a feature, there's a greater chance that they'll say something honest or useful or interesting, even if it's by accident. Documentaries will pick out the most memorable incidents and trivia from the production of the film, but you tend to get a better sense of what the day-to-day experience was like, listening to the creative personnel chatter about difficult shoots or scheduling problems or what it was like to work with so-and-so.
Not everyone is cut out for commentaries. Some directors are absolutely miserable raconteurs and some actors can't refrain from speaking in sound-bites. I often find a more technically-minded director like Bryan Singer less interesting to listen to than a producer who had to go do battle in order to secure the financing for the picture, or an editor with insights into how and why the visual storytelling works. I wish there were a wider selection of commentaries you could get for a film. And heck, just because Steven Spielberg and Christopher Nolan don't like doing them doesn't mean that their pictures should go without commentaries entirely. I'd gladly fork over a few dollars for an iTunes download of a commentary track by the writer, or cinematographer, or art director, or makeup artist, or composer for certain films. The "Lord of the Rings" folks had the right idea, giving us four tracks apiece for the Extended Edition DVDs.
However, my favorites are the analytical commentaries by historians, academics, and critics, which tend to pop up more often on older titles. I really enjoy other people's enjoyment of films, sometimes more than the films themselves. It's one of of the reasons why I like award shows and tribute programs so much. I get a lot of vicarious thrills through other cineaste's geek-outs, and an outsider who had nothing to do with the production of a film will often be better at articulating why a movie had such impact or achieved such artistic excellence. Or failed to. One of my favorite extras for the "Matrix" sequels was the audio tracks by a pair of critics who lambasted the movies. Sometimes you don't even need a professional. Those free alternative commentaries recorded by amateurs floating around on the Internet can be fun too, though you often get what you pay for.
And then there are the commentaries where people get creative. "Shaun of the Dead" had a zombies-only track, "Tropic Thunder" and "This is Spinal Tap" had actors staying in character throughout, and the "Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog" DVD comes with "Commentary: The Musical." Some of my favorite commentaries come from creative types who seem intent on ignoring the content they're supposed to commenting on. Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer of "The Venture Bros." are famous for having highly entertaining conversations during their audio commentaries that have nothing to do with "The Venture Bros." And of course there's Rifftrax, which carries on in the grand tradition of "Mystery Science Theater 3000," offering audio tracks full of sublime mockery to accompany Hollywood's worst crimes against cinema.
I used to watch films over and over again as a kid, and now it's harder to justify doing this when there are so many good films around that I haven't seen yet. Because they provide a different experience, audio commentaries make it a little easier to convince myself to revisit the great movies, and the not-so-great ones, and that episode of "The Simpsons" where they go to Duff Gardens. I suspect that the day that they start offering audio commentaries on Netflix or Hulu or Amazon to play over streaming media, it will be the day I say goodbye to physical media entirely.
But for now, it's off to the DVD player, to see if David Lynch's audio commentary will explain what the hell was going on in "Eraserhead."
Why do I enjoy them so? I think this stems from a love of meta and a fascination with the filmmaking process. The "making of" documentaries often packaged with a film are usually fun, but often too slick and superficial. I like commentaries better because they're more unfiltered, and if someone is talking for the entire length of a feature, there's a greater chance that they'll say something honest or useful or interesting, even if it's by accident. Documentaries will pick out the most memorable incidents and trivia from the production of the film, but you tend to get a better sense of what the day-to-day experience was like, listening to the creative personnel chatter about difficult shoots or scheduling problems or what it was like to work with so-and-so.
Not everyone is cut out for commentaries. Some directors are absolutely miserable raconteurs and some actors can't refrain from speaking in sound-bites. I often find a more technically-minded director like Bryan Singer less interesting to listen to than a producer who had to go do battle in order to secure the financing for the picture, or an editor with insights into how and why the visual storytelling works. I wish there were a wider selection of commentaries you could get for a film. And heck, just because Steven Spielberg and Christopher Nolan don't like doing them doesn't mean that their pictures should go without commentaries entirely. I'd gladly fork over a few dollars for an iTunes download of a commentary track by the writer, or cinematographer, or art director, or makeup artist, or composer for certain films. The "Lord of the Rings" folks had the right idea, giving us four tracks apiece for the Extended Edition DVDs.
However, my favorites are the analytical commentaries by historians, academics, and critics, which tend to pop up more often on older titles. I really enjoy other people's enjoyment of films, sometimes more than the films themselves. It's one of of the reasons why I like award shows and tribute programs so much. I get a lot of vicarious thrills through other cineaste's geek-outs, and an outsider who had nothing to do with the production of a film will often be better at articulating why a movie had such impact or achieved such artistic excellence. Or failed to. One of my favorite extras for the "Matrix" sequels was the audio tracks by a pair of critics who lambasted the movies. Sometimes you don't even need a professional. Those free alternative commentaries recorded by amateurs floating around on the Internet can be fun too, though you often get what you pay for.
And then there are the commentaries where people get creative. "Shaun of the Dead" had a zombies-only track, "Tropic Thunder" and "This is Spinal Tap" had actors staying in character throughout, and the "Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog" DVD comes with "Commentary: The Musical." Some of my favorite commentaries come from creative types who seem intent on ignoring the content they're supposed to commenting on. Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer of "The Venture Bros." are famous for having highly entertaining conversations during their audio commentaries that have nothing to do with "The Venture Bros." And of course there's Rifftrax, which carries on in the grand tradition of "Mystery Science Theater 3000," offering audio tracks full of sublime mockery to accompany Hollywood's worst crimes against cinema.
I used to watch films over and over again as a kid, and now it's harder to justify doing this when there are so many good films around that I haven't seen yet. Because they provide a different experience, audio commentaries make it a little easier to convince myself to revisit the great movies, and the not-so-great ones, and that episode of "The Simpsons" where they go to Duff Gardens. I suspect that the day that they start offering audio commentaries on Netflix or Hulu or Amazon to play over streaming media, it will be the day I say goodbye to physical media entirely.
But for now, it's off to the DVD player, to see if David Lynch's audio commentary will explain what the hell was going on in "Eraserhead."
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Self, Suck it Up and Watch These Movies
Following up to the previous post about the prevalence of the immature male hero in our modern cinema, I thought it was a good time to write-up a post on the 2010 films that I've formed an irrational mental block against seeing. This happens to me every year. I end up with one or two critically acclaimed titles that I really ought to watch if I want to make any claim at being comprehensive about my pretentious movie viewing choices, and yet I find myself deeply biased against them for no good reason. Last year, it was "The Road," the post-apocalypse survival film that wasn't nearly as gory or upsetting as I had built it up in my mind to be. This year, I've got two films up for the honor: "Greenberg" and "Cyrus."
"Greenberg" is Noah Baumbach's melancholy indie comedy about a graying Gen-Xer named Roger Greenberg (Ben Stiller), who has to confront the fact that he is a louse far past his prime. "Cyrus" is about John (John C. Reilly) and Molly (Marisa Tomei) starting a relationship, except that John finds his attempts at romance are constantly hampered by Molly's clingy adult son Cyrus (Jonah Hill), who has never left home and is very protective of his mother's affections. Now I like Noah Baumbach's dark comedies and domestic dramas just fine, and I've heard plenty of good things about the Duplass brothers who directed "Cyrus." Both movies have solid, though not spectacular critical notices. Nonetheless, I find myself repelled. Give me the misery of "Blue Valentine" or "Biutiful." Sit me down with the "Carlos" mini-series. Anything but these two films!
But why? My first thought is that it's the actors. I've never been a fan of Ben Stiller's Frat Pack humor, found "Reality Bites" an overrated piece of hooey, and deplore his insistence on playing oblivious morons in movies like "Zoolander" and "Dodgeball." Yet I have to give him full credit for "Tropic Thunder," and he's fine when he's not appearing in his own material. He used to be a dependable romantic comedy lead in the likes of "Keeping the Faith" and "There's Something About Mary." And then there's John C. Reilly, who I like in his dramatic roles, but every time he goes for comedy, it's something like "Step Brothers" or "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story." As for Jonah Hill - well let me put it this way. I have a relative who has a lot in common with the guys that Hill usually plays - he's a grown man who seems stuck in adolescence, is socially inept, underacheiving, unmotivated, and self-deluding to the point where his parents are worried he may have mental problems. I feel bad for him every time I see him, and I don't find characters like this funny. I barely find them watchable.
I know that "Greenberg" and "Cyrus" are both indie comedies that won't go for the cheap and easy laughs. They'll take the familiar screen personas of these actors and show the audience how they might actually function (or fail to) in the real world. One of my favorite films of the past decade did this with Adam Sandler, in Paul Thomas Anderson's "Punch-Drunk Love." Suddenly the frustration and repression and bursts of violence typical of a Sandler character became unexpectedly poignant when the cinema world he inhabited was no longer on his side. From the reviews I've read, I know this is what "Greenberg" will be trying with Ben Stiller, offering us a character portrait of a serial sarcastic in decline. The idea of the premise does appeal to me. However, every review I've read emphasizes how difficult it is to sit through the film, and how unrelentingly awkward and uncomfortable it becomes to watch the character of Roger Greenberg struggle to maintain his facade. I don't like watching people humiliate themselves, and it's bad enough when Stiller does it for big laughs in his mainstream comedies. Seeing him do this in a Baumbach film sounds downright painful.
"Cyrus" is a broader comedy that should be easier to get through, though the clips I've seen of John C. Reilly and Marisa Tomei singing karaoke together, and Jonah Hill's early confrontation scene with John C. Reilly leave me uneasy. It looks a little too close to other comedies that have gone for the lowest common denominator with similar premises. I can't get the images of "Step Brothers" out of my head, which featured John C. Reilly in full Idiot Manchild mode grappling with an equally lunkheaded Will Ferrell. Reilly and Jonah Hill fighting over the affections of Marissa Tomei could be similarly tedious if not handled right. I haven't seen any of the Duplass brothers' films, so I don't know what to expect. This is the kind of comedy I'd pass up in a second if it weren't for the recommendations I've been hearing.
I've resolved to watch both "Greenberg" and "Cyrus," and they're both on my list of the remaining gotta-see 2010 films I'm steadily working my way through. My worries about both films boil down to guilt by association and fear of the unknown, and I've got to get over this. I've missed too many good films by worrying over similar inconsequential things, and frankly there aren't enough good comedies these days that I can afford to pass up the ones that do come along, no matter how badly their content might make me wince. I might find the next "Punch-Drunk Love." I probably won't. But in any case, it's time to move these titles to the head of my Netflix queue.
"Greenberg" is Noah Baumbach's melancholy indie comedy about a graying Gen-Xer named Roger Greenberg (Ben Stiller), who has to confront the fact that he is a louse far past his prime. "Cyrus" is about John (John C. Reilly) and Molly (Marisa Tomei) starting a relationship, except that John finds his attempts at romance are constantly hampered by Molly's clingy adult son Cyrus (Jonah Hill), who has never left home and is very protective of his mother's affections. Now I like Noah Baumbach's dark comedies and domestic dramas just fine, and I've heard plenty of good things about the Duplass brothers who directed "Cyrus." Both movies have solid, though not spectacular critical notices. Nonetheless, I find myself repelled. Give me the misery of "Blue Valentine" or "Biutiful." Sit me down with the "Carlos" mini-series. Anything but these two films!
But why? My first thought is that it's the actors. I've never been a fan of Ben Stiller's Frat Pack humor, found "Reality Bites" an overrated piece of hooey, and deplore his insistence on playing oblivious morons in movies like "Zoolander" and "Dodgeball." Yet I have to give him full credit for "Tropic Thunder," and he's fine when he's not appearing in his own material. He used to be a dependable romantic comedy lead in the likes of "Keeping the Faith" and "There's Something About Mary." And then there's John C. Reilly, who I like in his dramatic roles, but every time he goes for comedy, it's something like "Step Brothers" or "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story." As for Jonah Hill - well let me put it this way. I have a relative who has a lot in common with the guys that Hill usually plays - he's a grown man who seems stuck in adolescence, is socially inept, underacheiving, unmotivated, and self-deluding to the point where his parents are worried he may have mental problems. I feel bad for him every time I see him, and I don't find characters like this funny. I barely find them watchable.
I know that "Greenberg" and "Cyrus" are both indie comedies that won't go for the cheap and easy laughs. They'll take the familiar screen personas of these actors and show the audience how they might actually function (or fail to) in the real world. One of my favorite films of the past decade did this with Adam Sandler, in Paul Thomas Anderson's "Punch-Drunk Love." Suddenly the frustration and repression and bursts of violence typical of a Sandler character became unexpectedly poignant when the cinema world he inhabited was no longer on his side. From the reviews I've read, I know this is what "Greenberg" will be trying with Ben Stiller, offering us a character portrait of a serial sarcastic in decline. The idea of the premise does appeal to me. However, every review I've read emphasizes how difficult it is to sit through the film, and how unrelentingly awkward and uncomfortable it becomes to watch the character of Roger Greenberg struggle to maintain his facade. I don't like watching people humiliate themselves, and it's bad enough when Stiller does it for big laughs in his mainstream comedies. Seeing him do this in a Baumbach film sounds downright painful.
"Cyrus" is a broader comedy that should be easier to get through, though the clips I've seen of John C. Reilly and Marisa Tomei singing karaoke together, and Jonah Hill's early confrontation scene with John C. Reilly leave me uneasy. It looks a little too close to other comedies that have gone for the lowest common denominator with similar premises. I can't get the images of "Step Brothers" out of my head, which featured John C. Reilly in full Idiot Manchild mode grappling with an equally lunkheaded Will Ferrell. Reilly and Jonah Hill fighting over the affections of Marissa Tomei could be similarly tedious if not handled right. I haven't seen any of the Duplass brothers' films, so I don't know what to expect. This is the kind of comedy I'd pass up in a second if it weren't for the recommendations I've been hearing.
I've resolved to watch both "Greenberg" and "Cyrus," and they're both on my list of the remaining gotta-see 2010 films I'm steadily working my way through. My worries about both films boil down to guilt by association and fear of the unknown, and I've got to get over this. I've missed too many good films by worrying over similar inconsequential things, and frankly there aren't enough good comedies these days that I can afford to pass up the ones that do come along, no matter how badly their content might make me wince. I might find the next "Punch-Drunk Love." I probably won't. But in any case, it's time to move these titles to the head of my Netflix queue.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Why Seth Rogen Does Not Make a Good Superhero
I want to do a more in-depth post-mortem on "The Green Hornet," which did not perform as well as Sony was hoping for. It's far from a box office disaster, but between the tepid reviews and so-so audience reactions, we're not going to see a sequel unless the overseas numbers are stratospheric. I've heard murmurs that this might be an early sign of superhero genre fatigue, or that "The Green Hornet" was simply too obscure a property to stand this kind of rebooting. However most reviewers, me included, singled out Seth Rogen as the biggest problem with the movie, both for his performance and the way he wrote the character of Britt Reid.
You've seen protagonists like Rogen's Britt Reid in other movies, the physically adult but mentally immature male specimen found in many a Judd Apatow film, perhaps best encapsulated by the work of Adam Sandler and Homer Simpson. They frequently act like jerks, shun all social graces, and make no effort to hide long lists of typical frathouse vices such as excessive drinking, partying, carousing, and minor criminal mischief. They are notably lacking in brain power, ranging in IQ from the Faulknerian Idiot Manchild to the mere Average Boob. Despite this, they're often genial, likable guys who mean well, and have just enough redeeming qualities to make good and get the girl in the end. There are many, many of these protagonists found in our modern comedies, and we've seen them successfully cross over to comedy-dramas like "Cyrus" and action films like "Transformers." Perhaps that's why it was inevitable that one of these very imperfect protagonists would end up in the middle of a superhero movie.
I liked "The Green Hornet," but I think it would have fared better as a straight comedy - say, a buddy cop project like "The Other Guys." Then Seth Rogen could have been as crass and moronic as he wanted, and nobody would have minded. The trouble is that "Green Hornet" was billed as a superhero film, and superhero films need heroes. What Rogen did, which was great for the comedic aspects of the film, was to turn Britt into a typical mook of a comedy protagonist, an unrestrained male id. However, because Rogen's take on the character never grew up and never changed, nobody bought him as a superhero and that part of the movie fell flat. It's no mystery why existing "Green Hornet" fans were not happy. Generations of kids looked up to and pretended to be Britt Reid. Sure, it was easy to poke fun at him as a square, and through modern eyes we can see all the racial issues with Kato and the gender issues with his secretary Lenore, but the Green Hornet was indisputably a hero. Rogen's version was not.
The immature comedy protagonist is inherently non-heroic. Viewers may sympathize with them, may feel affection for them, and may identify with them, but that's as far as it goes. We don't respect these characters, don't aspire to be these characters, and certainly don't idolize and hold them in high regard. Superheroes, as many have pointed out, are representations of our ideals. They are the larger-than-life equivalents of the gods and kings and warriors that have populated all mythological pantheons since the dawn of time. These days, they can be as flawed and complicated and human as you like, but they have to fit the classical hero archetype. Tony Stark may have been a boozer and a lout, but he had his change of heart (literally) and made good when it counted. Looking at the Superbowl trailers for the upcoming superhero summer showdown, "Thor" and "Captain America" are full of traditional hero imagery - Nordic badassery and rampant patriotism. It's corny, but it sends the right message.
"The Green Hornet" made no concessions toward the superhero-loving audience at all. Britt Reid becomes a competent crimefighter for the space of about a minute, but remains a mook at the end of the story who hasn't learned a thing. Maybe the film would have found more success if the focus had been on Kato, who does fit the hero profile, so the audience could have come through "The Green Hornet" with someone to root for. I can see why viewers got frustrated if they weren't clued into the satire and were waiting in vain for their hero character to show up. Part of me wishes that "The Green Hornet" would get a sequel, so Rogen and company could undo some of the damage to poor Britt Reid and make him a real superhero again, instead of just a pretender we're meant to laugh at. Part of me is just glad that they didn't target a character I care about.
On that note, if Jonah Hill or Zach Galifianakis so much as looks at the Flash funny, I will not hesitate to bring the full wrath of the Internet down upon their heads. And that's a promise.
You've seen protagonists like Rogen's Britt Reid in other movies, the physically adult but mentally immature male specimen found in many a Judd Apatow film, perhaps best encapsulated by the work of Adam Sandler and Homer Simpson. They frequently act like jerks, shun all social graces, and make no effort to hide long lists of typical frathouse vices such as excessive drinking, partying, carousing, and minor criminal mischief. They are notably lacking in brain power, ranging in IQ from the Faulknerian Idiot Manchild to the mere Average Boob. Despite this, they're often genial, likable guys who mean well, and have just enough redeeming qualities to make good and get the girl in the end. There are many, many of these protagonists found in our modern comedies, and we've seen them successfully cross over to comedy-dramas like "Cyrus" and action films like "Transformers." Perhaps that's why it was inevitable that one of these very imperfect protagonists would end up in the middle of a superhero movie.
I liked "The Green Hornet," but I think it would have fared better as a straight comedy - say, a buddy cop project like "The Other Guys." Then Seth Rogen could have been as crass and moronic as he wanted, and nobody would have minded. The trouble is that "Green Hornet" was billed as a superhero film, and superhero films need heroes. What Rogen did, which was great for the comedic aspects of the film, was to turn Britt into a typical mook of a comedy protagonist, an unrestrained male id. However, because Rogen's take on the character never grew up and never changed, nobody bought him as a superhero and that part of the movie fell flat. It's no mystery why existing "Green Hornet" fans were not happy. Generations of kids looked up to and pretended to be Britt Reid. Sure, it was easy to poke fun at him as a square, and through modern eyes we can see all the racial issues with Kato and the gender issues with his secretary Lenore, but the Green Hornet was indisputably a hero. Rogen's version was not.
The immature comedy protagonist is inherently non-heroic. Viewers may sympathize with them, may feel affection for them, and may identify with them, but that's as far as it goes. We don't respect these characters, don't aspire to be these characters, and certainly don't idolize and hold them in high regard. Superheroes, as many have pointed out, are representations of our ideals. They are the larger-than-life equivalents of the gods and kings and warriors that have populated all mythological pantheons since the dawn of time. These days, they can be as flawed and complicated and human as you like, but they have to fit the classical hero archetype. Tony Stark may have been a boozer and a lout, but he had his change of heart (literally) and made good when it counted. Looking at the Superbowl trailers for the upcoming superhero summer showdown, "Thor" and "Captain America" are full of traditional hero imagery - Nordic badassery and rampant patriotism. It's corny, but it sends the right message.
"The Green Hornet" made no concessions toward the superhero-loving audience at all. Britt Reid becomes a competent crimefighter for the space of about a minute, but remains a mook at the end of the story who hasn't learned a thing. Maybe the film would have found more success if the focus had been on Kato, who does fit the hero profile, so the audience could have come through "The Green Hornet" with someone to root for. I can see why viewers got frustrated if they weren't clued into the satire and were waiting in vain for their hero character to show up. Part of me wishes that "The Green Hornet" would get a sequel, so Rogen and company could undo some of the damage to poor Britt Reid and make him a real superhero again, instead of just a pretender we're meant to laugh at. Part of me is just glad that they didn't target a character I care about.
On that note, if Jonah Hill or Zach Galifianakis so much as looks at the Flash funny, I will not hesitate to bring the full wrath of the Internet down upon their heads. And that's a promise.
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