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If you were born in the 80's, chances are good that you watched The Neverending Story. And you probably loved it. Now... this may be a case of telling someone telling you not to look down, only to have you look down as a direct result of them telling you... but I'm telling you now, if you have good memories of watching the film as a child, do yourself a favor and never watch it again as an adult.
I made that mistake myself during my time as an undergrad. Everyone knows that one of the greatest perks of dorm life is the easy access to countless movies in neighboring collections. I was making one of my frequent weekend rounds for something to watch when I stumbled upon this "gem" from the good old days. I think my exact response upon finding a copy was "Holy crap! I loved that movie! May I borrow this?"
92 minutes later, I wished I had a time machine... if only to have had the opportunity to go back in time to punch past-me in the face. Hindsight is cruel that way. After two more extremely painful viewings (years later, I might add... you have to give a guy time to recover), I have condensed the bad, so that you don't have to sit through it yourself. (Call it a community service)
Problem 1: Pacing. Or should I say... paaaaacccciiiiiing. Can you say slow? I bet you can't say it as slowly as this movie can. This isn't even Blade Runner slow. This is like 2001: A Space Odyssey slow... or maybe Star Trek: The Motion Picture slow. People talk slow, people move slow, nothing happens quickly. Yes, it was a less rushed era. But it doesn't hold up in today's attention deficit society. Am I still on Problem 1? I've already lost interest.
Problem 2: Acting. In that, it has none. Watching children act on screen is usually painful enough. But there are two of them in this film (three if you count the princess). Both horrifically bad. Noah Hathaway (playing Atreyu) is at least passably painful in his role, but Barret Oliver as Bastian... this guy gives Jake Lloyd a run for his money... and yes, that's a dis. To both of them.
The issue is that these kids have nothing to play against, and, as you'd expect, they overact their pants off. Atreyu loses his horse Artax in the Swamps of Sadness. An emotionally heavy scene, yes. But it happens about half a second after you're introduced to these characters. The raw emotion comes off as really awkward. Bastian is even worse off. 90% of his scenes are reaction shots to events that aren't happening anywhere near him... which is what happens when you steal a book, ditch class, and hide away in a school attic by yourself. His ridiculously overwrought exclamations to no one in particular are nothing short of face-palm inducing. And I have the red palm on my forehead to prove it.
Problem 3: Extremely jarring editing, super-cheese 80's music, and head-scratchingly bad effects. Let's get the editing out of the way first. The film cuts (often) in the middle of crescendos to a completely new scene. Let me repeat that. The music cuts in the middle with the shot! That's not bad editing, that's a mistake. Here's what it feels like to watch this stuff: Imagine you're in the shower, innocently shampooing your hair, whistling an old Beatles song... and a freaking catapult launches you stark naked out your bathroom window and inexplicably into a fiery volcano. Yeah. That's what these cuts are like. As for the synth-heavy music, I suppose you'll have to forgive that... the 80's definitely left its mark on this film. And that's not a compliment.
The effects are all over the board. Some of the practical effects work great, but the rear screen projection and optical effects are pretty sloppy. In some cases, painted backdrops abruptly end within frame, creating distinct lines between locations and props. Canvas set extensions have wrinkles and stretch marks in them for crying out loud. Shame on you Wolfgang Peterson. You've done so much better.
Problem 4: Creepy factor. And this film's got it in spades. What's with the naked statues? Isn't this a children's movie? If anything, it would have gone over better with female sphynx statues sans nipples. Ah the good old days of inconsistent censoring.
But the real gold mine is Falkor, the luck dragon. Or, as I'd call him, Pedophile-dog-creepy-dragon-thingy. Seriously. Falkor is like a dirty old man with a dog's head and pink sequined pimp feux furs. He saves Atreyu in an amazing bit of deus ex machina, after which we see Atreyu waking up from a coma snuggled up next to him (which begs the question of how long this coma cuddle went on for, and begs us not to ask the question of why there was cuddling in the first place). Falkor tells Atreyu that he (verbatim) "loves children" (really), and winks at him multiple times (really). He then asks Atreyu to scratch him behind the ears, like you would a dog, and the look of intense, tongue waggling satisfaction on his face... well, let's just say that I cringed so hard I thought my face would cave in. Falkor's Art Director was probably aiming for cute and endearing. I think he ended up with alarmingly sleazy.
Honestly, I'm sure it was made with good intentions. I'll give it the benefit of a doubt. I'm sure Falkor was written with nothing but innocence. But seriously... that freaking Dragon's a pervert. As my friend Dan (a full grown adult, I might add) said while watching a few of Falkor's scenes: "Whaaaah! I'm gonna have nightmares!" Me too Dan. Me too.
As for a general blanket statement on the whole film, I'll admit, this was probably groundbreaking stuff back in the day. And you can't fault it for trying. If anything, it's vivid. Like... if hallucinogenic mushrooms could take LSD, vivid. And as such, it stuck in the collective psyche's of a generation of impressionable children, myself included. But to watch it again as an adult, you'll find yourself smiling... but for all the wrong reasons. You have to laugh at it, because it's the only way to stop yourself from jamming something sharp in your eye. If you have good memories of watching it, do yourself a favor and let those memories rest in peace. The Neverending Story demands to be blissfully forgotten. And if remembered... to be remembered fondly only in hazy recollections and pop culture throwback humor.
Everyone loves a good George Lucas bashing right? I'm really no exception to that rule. I rant about it enough in real life, so it only seemed fitting to write up an article about it.
Given that many of us watch the Original Trilogy through coke-bottle-thick rose colored glasses, I still think the OT is pretty groundbreaking. At the end of the day, I have to stand up and attest to the life-changing cinema experience that those three movies represent... all the while acknowledging that they are, still, imperfect.
The New Trilogy takes the old trilogy's imperfections, stuffs them in a moldy potato sack, drop kicks the sack into a barrel of cacti, then sets it ablaze using a combination of napalm and scalding apple pie filling. Oh yeah... then it takes it all out again and smears itself with the molten mess, and proclaims itself to be the most beautiful butterfly. Where to even start with how it went wrong? Others could give you a novel. I've got my own list.
Problem 1: George wrote it. Not only do you get a movie that dumbs itself down to kids, I think it actually made kids who watched it dumber. Yeah, I'm talking to you Episode One. Rumor has it that his kid was responsible for some of the character names. If true, George only made the mistake of accepting said terrible names. And you know what? I kind of hope the rumor's true. Because for a grown man to have thought up Count Dooku, Mace Windu, Qui Gon Jinn (which, honestly, sounds like a kind of fried dumpling) and Jar Jar Binks... well, that's just embarrassing.
Problem 2: Jake Lloyd as Young Anakin. I swear, the only time I saw him in anything good was an Oreo commercial way back when. I know he's supposed to turn evil, but I wanted to punch him in the face (or... as a last resort, my own face) halfway through Episode One. Watching him try and act was more evil than I could take. Talk about the dark side.
Problem 3: Jar Jar Binks. Yikes. Need I say more?
Problem 4: R2D2 far more technologically advanced in the NT versus the OT. R2 always was a bit of dues ex machine. You'd be able to get out of any jam too if you had a galactic swiss army knife following you around. But the NT took it way too far.
Problem 5: Wasted Talent. You've got Liam Neeson, Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor, Hayden Christensen, Christopher Lee and Sam "The Man" Jackson for crying out loud! How hard do you have to try before you're able to ruin the abilities of every single one of these A-List stars?
Problem 6: Too much CG. Would it kill you, George, to have busted out a plastic suit from the old days? The last thing I want to see is a real actor's head superimposed on a CG trooper. I can't even call it laziness, because head replacement/tracking is infinitely more difficult than getting a dude into a costume. No, the operative phrase here is more along the lines of "stunned exasperation."
Problem 7: Midichlorians? Oh come on. This is just sad. J.J. Abrams knows a thing or two about the power of mystery, which is to say that sometimes, not knowing (or never knowing) is a far more powerful thing than the explanation. The Force was crazy cool when we had no idea what it was. Microscopic thingamajigs in the bloodstream (that, sadly, also sound like some kind of pool cleaning detergent)? Great. The Force has been demoted to a hereditary medical condition.
Problem 8: Messing with success. At the very least, it would have been nice if the badness of the NT was put under quarantine, with the OT being allowed visits on the weekends, but only through double glass shields. But alas, no. George had to spread Problem 6 into the OT, resulting in jarring CG and... get this... a full character replacement from David Prowse to Hayden Christiansen at the end of The Return of the Jedi. What? How does that make any sense? The spirits are locked in visually at the ages they were at death right? Some say that Anakin's spirit is young because that's the last time he was good. But wasn't he good just before he died?
I'm not a hardcore Star Wars fan (I tend to lean towards science fiction, as opposed to science fantasy), but I'm really scratching my head at some of this. Is there something I missed? Or does it really not make any sense?
I don't like being overly negative, so I'll wrap this article up with a positive spin. Here are my grand ideas on how George could have made the most stunningly successful prequel trilogy the world has ever seen.
Major Fix 1: Take a page from Episodes 5 and 6, George. Don't direct it, and don't write it (at least not by yourself). Tell people with talent what your outline is, and leave the details in other peoples' capable hands. Stick to producing. It suits you better. Also, find a better casting director who won't hire snotty kids and give every single bad guy an embarrassingly stereotypical minority accent. Heck, that goes even for good guys with terrible accents (Jar Jar).
Major Fix 2: This is the big one. Don't use CG, and don't use visual effects. Yeah, that's right. Defy convention and make the prequels using the same optical effects that you used to create the OT. Crazy? Maybe. Boldly genius? Oh, absolutely. If fanboys stepped into the theater and saw three movies that looked even grungier and more gorilla-film-makery than the OT, they would have flipped their lids, guaranteed. It may have been tougher, and it may have been restrictive, but those restrictions make leaner, better movies. Unlimited excess and zero accountability make for seriously bloated fare. And nobody likes bloated movies... especially if they were a bit soulless to begin with.
And news flash. Han shot first.
Back when I was a kid, I used to love adventure games (still do, actually). This isn't to say that I don't still love them now, but they really don't make them like they used to. King's Quest, Space Quest, and Zork were among the more universally known entries, but there were some gems that slipped under the radar. And by "slipped under," I mean stealth-cloaked itself and completely bypassed mainstream social consciousness. It's a shame too. The people who've played games like Sam & Max Hit the Road and The Neverhood will swear by how amazing (and riotously funny) the experience was. Sadly, there are far too few people who can say that they were able to partake during the golden age of adventure gaming.
Before you get too settled, let me clarify that this isn't an article about gaming, but more tangentially, one about video game music. After I bought The Neverhood, I immediately internet ordered the soundtrack. It's worth noting that my grasp of the internet was so tenuous at that point in time (around 1996) that I can't even recall exactly how I accomplished that task. Regardless, the music that soon arrived at my door was like nothing I had ever heard before (well, aside from the hearing it during gameplay). I had just been smashed in the head by the musical stylings of Terry Taylor.
There's good music. There's appropriate music. Then there's music that makes the experience. Can you imagine Star Wars: A New Hope without John Williams' epic score? Or (more depressingly), Episode One? Yeah, I just threw up a little in my mouth too. Terry Taylor's music is that level of integral. Words honestly fail to capture what he does for the game... which, by the way, is flat out hilarious amidst its spartan use of dialogue.
At this point, there's not much else I can say about either the Neverhood or Terry Taylor that would do either justice. Some things, you just have to experience for yourself. But if you ever do get the chance to play the game or listen to the music, I'd highly recommend making the investment of time to do so.
If you're already familiar with animation auteur, Hayao Miyazaki (the director of the award winning films Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke) then consider yourself lucky. His work is magical and amazing to behold. But even die hard fans may not be versed in his early works. I want to throw some of the spotlight onto a golden oldie.
One of Miyazaki's earliest directorial efforts was the post-apocalyptic adventure tale, Mirai Shonen Konan, or alternately, Conan, The Boy in Future (in its official English title). Many hold this twenty-six episode series to be the greatest thing Miyazaki has ever created, and for good reason. The style, themes, characterizations, and trademarks that make Miyazaki's movies so indelibly his, all have their roots in this epic masterpiece. Everything from strong child protagonists and flying machines, to political and ecological themes was present and perfectly executed here.
I consider myself blessed to have been heavily exposed to the show from early childhood. Still, it wasn't until I was able to rewatch the series as an adult in its original Japanese (with English subtitles) that I was able to fully understand the plot and appreciate the genius. My childhood viewing was done to a stack of VHS tapes that were dubbed in Korean, which may have had a lot to do with my general lack of full comprehension.
Honestly, Miyazaki was so far ahead of the game back then (in 1978, no less) that it makes the competition of the time seem pitiful by comparison. And that's not just in animation fluidity, but in straight storytelling. Have you ever watched a show that you loved so much that when you got to the end, you felt like someone had hollowed you out? Have you ever felt the sadness of knowing that you would never see the characters develop further beyond the confines of their fictional universe? I felt that... and continue to feel it when I reminisce about this story.
So it's with intense fondness that I urge you to keep a lookout for this one. If you're a fan of the singular, rare, and beautiful in life, this is something you're going to want to see. Arigato gozaimashita, Hayao Miyazaki, the world owes you an unpayable debt.
Somewhere, tucked away deep in the realm of Internet geekery is a brilliant, brilliant man by the name of Jonathan Coulton.
Jonathan used to be a computer programmer and a self-proclaimed "code monkey." But in 2005 he gave it all up and traded it in for shiny new career in Internet troubadourity. Most of his music is thematically tied to the best tenets of geek culture: zombies, video games, science fiction, evil overlords and the like. But what distinguishes Jonathan from the rest is his refreshingly original combination of musical style and lyrics. You wouldn't think that a song about a giant squid's lament over the ships it crushes could be both poignant and meaningful. It's a testament to Jonathan's abilities that his music, though thematically ridiculous, can actually be quite touching.
The musical business model is as unique as the artist. On the music section of his official website, you can listen to every song he's released so far, and download many of them for free. Most songs have three payment options ranging from none at all, to fixed price, and lastly, pay what you think it's worth. Thanks to avid (or is that rabid?) fans and solid word of mouth, Jonathan's Internet rock stardom is well on its way.
Personally, I was introduced to Jonathan's music through his contribution to the genius video game Portal (as was part of The Orange Box). The final credit song "Still Alive" was by far the funniest and most clever compositions I'd heard in a good long time. Possibly ever. After some Internet sleuthing, I discovered who the mind behind the music was and was subsequently pulled into the glory of Jonathan's genius. I guess you could say I've been a fan ever since.
My current favorite songs from his list: Skullcrusher Mountain, Code Monkey, Shop Vac, Drinking With You, Tom Cruise Crazy, and The Future Soon. Seriously. Go check them out.
So here's to Jonathan Coulton. Making geek culture cool... or at least a little less uncool, for those of us who just can't help ourselves.
Don't you love it when you find out about something cool all by yourself? It's better than being just a fan... it's like when you've read both the Lord of the Rings and the Silmarillion and written a senior thesis on the allegorical nature of both long before any of the movies even... uhm... of course, I would know nothing about that personally, seeing as that was a hypothetical situ...
Right... Freeze Ray. The point I was trying to make was that it's exciting when you get to share something cool with people that have no idea what on earth it is that you're trying to show them (and sometimes giving you that "I think this guys nuts" look). It's almost like a personal challenge to sell them on your newfound love in the twenty seconds you have before they leave... or spray you with mace.
My latest discovery is a band called No More Kings. Seriously, these guys are tight. And I don't mean just cool, they're musically tight. But let's just cruise straight past their talent. The thing that gets me about them is the originality of their lyrics and their hilariously genious pop culture themes.
Consider the topics of some of their songs: Sweep the Leg is about the first Karate Kid movie and has one of the best choruses ever. Michael (Jump In) is about the old school Knight Rider TV show's protagonist, Michael Knight... the cartoon music video is an absolutely gem... and you can watch it on their YouTube page, like, immediately. Leaving Lilliput is about Gulliver and the Lilliputians' Radio DJ. Zombie Me is about a guy who trips on his shoelaces, dies, and becomes a Zombie. Do I need to go on? Just go listen to the free tunes on their MySpace already.
It's official. I have never gone to such lengths to see a film in my entire life. Being both in the film production industry and an avid comic book fan, I've been well aware of both Batman Begins and The Dark Knight long before news about either films started leaking out to the general public. And as psyched as I was for Batman Begins, I was exponentially more so for The Dark Knight.
People have asked me just when I knew I had fallen in love with the world of Batman. The first time I was posed the question, my response came so quickly that it surprised even me. I recalled watching Batman the Animated Series as a child, and being scared silly by the Clayface Origin episodes, Feat of Clay Parts I and II. Particularly when Matt Hagen was melting into his Clayface form for the first time. But more than the just fear, I was affected profoundly by the incredible sadness and tragedy contained in the cartoon. It was akin to a moment of cinematic puberty, where I was transformed from a mere child watching silly shows to an honest-to-God film buff. It was the moment where I realized just how meaningful my "entertainment" could actually be.
That said, I was more than just excited to watch The Dark Knight. I was jumping out of my skin with anticipation. After purchasing tickets online at Fandango, I went to Universal Citywalk with five of my friends to line up at 5:30pm for the 11:00pm IMAX showing. That's right, we were waiting in line for the better part of five and a half hours. We really were the ultimate line waiting party: first in line, loaded to the gills with cookies, candy, three kinds of spam musubi, and three kinds of card games. The real icing on the cake, was a laptop, two splitters, three pairs of earphones (one ear for each person), and the Batman Begins DVD. We ended up watching most of it before The Dark Knight actually started. And you'd better believe the people behind us were envious of our obvious geek-coolness. Some people even took pictures. It was like fifteen minutes of uber-geek fame.
But, alas, it wasn't to be. Halfway through our showing, the fire alarm was pulled by some punk Joker-wannabe-anarchist. And after fifty minutes of waiting in the theater (in the midst of constant alarms and strobes), we were sent home in the early AM hours with re-admit passes, bleary eyes, and bruised spirits.
Disappointing as that was, the worst part was actually in trying to find another IMAX showing to go to. It's a real credit to how popular this film is (and continues to be), that it took me over a week to find another IMAX showing that wasn't already sold out. I was literally checking theaters every day for an acceptable seat somewhere.
Now, after finally completing the entire film, I can say that it is a masterpiece. And for the record, do yourself an enourmouse favor and watch it in IMAX. The clarity and majesty of the format will drop your jaw, I guarantee it.
In case you're wondering, I won't review the movie myself here, because there are people who are much better at that kind of thing (case in point, you can read my friend Justin Chang's review of TDK for Variety here), but I will say that Batman blew my brains out for sheer lack of awesome-related storage space in my head. I waited far longer to see it than most other people, due to incredibly crap circumstances, but even so, it was completely worth the wait. And I think I know exactly where I'll be using my IMAX re-admit passes... once the lines die down... if they ever die down.
Lastly, I'm incredibly excited for what this means for comic book movie-making in the future. Chris Nolan has proved that a solid comic book film, free of infamous studio tampering, can still be profitable. And, If anything, that it's the best way to handle things. More than any other effort before him, I feel that he has legitimized the genre as both an accepted art form, and as a solid investment. Not an easy task by any means. The comic nerd in my heart is leaping for joy at the thought of other serious adaptations of well known heroes in the future.
If you're a fan of original storytelling, character development, and sheer geek-geniusness, and don't already know who Joss Whedon is, then you really owe it to yourself to get out there and delve into one of his many fictional worlds.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which really sets the bar high for being seriously inversely proportional between the good of the show and the bad of the name, was a late find for me. But once I started to watch, I realized that under the cheesy, gooey, teenage antics, was a rich and savory pizza of complex themes, intelligent writing, social commentary and unpredictable turns. Oh, and a crust. There was crust underneath... like a pie (10 bonus points if you get the reference before finishing this article). I started season one of Buffy just to educate myself in the history of Joss Whedon's work. I ended season seven (and the following transition to graphic novel for season eight) completely hooked, adding unnecessary y's to words, and essentially ready to sign up for a Buffy fan club somewhere. Oh, and I pretty much wanted to talk like Xander all the time (and if you can ignore the geeky, you'll disover the beauty of a language Whedon-o-fied).
Finishing Buffy was one of the saddest days of my year, and I quickly had to move on to Angel to get my next dose. But really, I'm working backwards here in the Joss Whedon Chronology.
My first venture into Joss' world was pure happenstance. A cousin bought me Serenity as a gift. I watched it with no prior knowledge of what was to come. Two hours later, it was as if my entire world had changed. Like a man possessed, I purchased Firefly and watched (almost back to back) the entire box set... followed by a much more informed repeat viewing of Serenity.
What you have to love (and sometimes hate) about Joss is that he's fearless as a director and a writer. He never goes for the easy gag. He'll make you think he is, but you find that he was playing on your first impression to create a much better one. He'll kill off popular characters if it serves the story... he keeps you on your toes. You hate him for it, but you love the worlds he creates all the more because they feel real, fluid, alive, and true.
His latest offering was a three act online musical (yes, really) called Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Okay, maybe this one's a close second to Buffy in its name-strength-to-show-quality ratio... but I can't say I hate the name either. It's delightfully silly... and, true to Joss' greatest strength, walks the fine line between silliness and incredible depth effortlessly.
What I love most about Joss Whedon's work is that he bends genre conventions with every artistic endeavor. Serious human drama in a vampire hunting teenage action adventure? Check. Spaghetti Western in space? Check. A show about a lonely bad guy fighting with a sadistic hero over the girl of his dreams? Double Check. The guy is a genius. Joss's most two dimensional characters, often times, have more depth than leads in other shows.
My dad used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. If I had known who the heck Joss Whedon was when I was three, I probably would have had my answer.
