Just made it back from the premier of Pornography, a film that should have an LiveJournal credit line, given all the talent from our little digital backwater both in front of and behind the camera. The screening was packed, so much so that an extra screening has been added. So congrats David and Sean: it’s a thoughtful twisty thriller. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for the Q&A.
Around the house, much work was done, by me. The work desk is in better shape than it has been in months.
Upper West Side, New York City, 1974
About a year and a half ago, I wrote this about my personal experiences around fandom. It’s all come back up again with the release of that new film everyone is talking about.
I’ve seen it and it’s a big ole summer special effects film, carefully composed of the two things that adolescents seem most attuned to: taking righteous revenge, and things exploding.
And yet…
In the midst of all that there were times when I once again felt the warmth and excitement of spending time with these characters. Something I haven’t experienced in most of the recent iterations of the ST universe. I wanted to see what they were going to do next, how they were going to react to each other.
Trek has worked for so long because so many people have found so many different things in it. And the new film served for me not as a reboot or a reinvention but simply as a reintroduction to characters I’ve cared about at various times in my life. The Kirk/Spock/McCoy triad was one of the Sixties’ great groups, a band like the Beatles. Other members of the crew orbit them and may receive a certain amount of attention from time to time, but those three are the engine that drove the show. TNG tried to re engineer that into the dyad of Picard and Riker, with limited success. The new film returns them to center stage, and there is something relieving in seeing the characters divorced from the icons that the actors who have portrayed them have become. Yes, Kirk is a jerk regardless of whether Shatner is a jerk or not. And Spock is an adolescent egghead, faced with the constant dilemma of what emotions mean and how to manage them. And they need each other, and they need McCoy to remind them of that.
That was an uncomfortable idea for a young queer alien identified egghead to come to terms with: that there were certain times when I actually needed the cocky golden boy jerks I spent so much time despising and fearing. But I’m happy to have been reminded of it.
Note: There was a a lot of interesting commentary on my original post that didn’t make it to wordpress. It can be found here.
Two 3D Movies in two days! Last night a bunch of us went to see Coraline on the Upper West side. Given that it was the first night, an early evening show, and a big family neighborhood, the screening was surprisingly devoid of child fueled outbursts. There was one young lady behind us who was a little talkative, but really nothing too distressing.
And the film itself? I admit to being unable to do much evaluation because I am the target audience: I love animation, love stop motion animation, have been pretty impressed with Henry Selick’s other films, even Monkeybone, and love 3D photography. I was really pleased that there was no attempt to turn the story into a musical, that it made no attempt to be hip, that it was willing to be moody. So none to the current tricks that Movies employ to make sure that viewers are safely maneuvered from point to point with their lack of curiosity intact. There was even a subtle dig at digital culture (Coraline’s parents are “virtual” gardeners who spend their time behind computer screens and don’t like to get their hands dirty with real plants and mud).
So it’s got all the stuff I love, and none of the stuff I hate. If you’re like me, you’ll enjoy it, but I know I’m a niche market.
And I’m almost sorry that I saw it in 3D, because I know I’ll buy it when I can and I’m sure I’ll miss the added dimension. It took me back to when I used to sit at home as a kid and pore over my Viewmaster reels for hours, back when they were made by people building actual sets and photographing them. Between those and my family’s Stereoscope, entire afternoons would be lost as I lifted the viewer to my eyes over and over watching a world spring into depth from flat pieces of paper.
Felt a little “I don’t want the next two days” today, after my house guest left. There’s a alot of cleaning I could have done, but instead I crawled into bed and put on a movie that never fails to comfort me: My Man Godfrey. Carole Lombard is astonishing in it, managing to be annoying and charming all at the same time.
And SNAKES ON A PLANE is the best fucking movie I’ve seen in ages.
Lost of movies bill themselves as fun rides, and then waste my time and money with stupid Speilbergian uplift, irritating naturalist backstories or pretentious themes. This is one movie that totally gets it right – every thing that you wish would happen in a movie named Snakes on a Plane happens.Anything not essential to the Planebound Snakiness, doesn’t happen. It’s the apotheosis of B-Movie goodness. I’ve always said that I respect a hack, but only an unapolagetic one. If there is any justice in the world, it will make New Line piles of money.
Other people will tell you that they saw it and it wasn’t so great. THEY ARE LIARS.
If you haven’t planned on seeing it, change your plans.
One other good note, by doing this I found out the the AMC on 42nd street has matinee pricing, so we only paid $6.00 to see it!