Snickety-Snick, Snickety-Sucked

 

When the first X-Men movie came out, I wasn't completely blown over by it, but I was happy enough - Brian Singer had brought the characters to life. It was too much of an introduction movie for me to be completely happy about it, the same way I felt about the first Spiderman movie. And like the Spiderman franchise, I was VERY happy with the second installment. And like Spidey again, I was unsure about the third part - a bit overblown, with additional characters added in for the sake of pleasing the fanboys though adding nothing to the plot.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting with Wolverine's solo outing, but I didn't expect this.

The movie opened adequately enough, with a nod to the Origins book itself, and went on to a very cool montage showing how Logan and Creed fought pretty much every war America's been involved in.

And then, just like that, it all gradually nosedives.

Now, don't even get me started on the writing. There are so many characters added in for no fucking reason whatsoever, half of which were inspired by the past few years of X-Men comics and stuck in as if to satiate the needs of us comic geeks whilst at the same time showing how 'cool' their powers are, but are they really required? Last I checked, the movie was called 'X-Men Origins: Wolverine'. Just concentrate on fucking Logan and his relationship with Creed. Instead, we rush through Wolverine's entire story, using the moments in his life to jump from plot point to plot point in order to show sequences with a bunch of different mutants.

Seriously, why? Why is Scott Summers and Emma Frost even in this picture? Why have the Weapon XI storyline? Weapon XI is frickin' Deadpool?! I wasn't too sure about Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool, even though I think the dude's great in anything he does and sure enough, the second we meet him we get a taste of that trademark smart-aleck banter that he can do with his eyes closed, but then he dissapears for the length of the movie until the end, where they've stitched the character's mouth shut and turned Deadpool into the ultimate Mortal Kombat character - Sub Zero's looks, Baraka's blades and the teleportation powers of the other dude besides Rayden with a wok on his head. Then there's Agent Zero - a very cool character from the Morrison run of 'New X-Men' now reduced to Stryker's lackey. Joy.

The most obvious pointless inclusion award has to go to Gambit, though. What a goddamn pointless exercise. There is absolutely no reason, no fucking reason at all, for Gambit to be in the picture. He has one cool fight sequence and helps bring up some exposition before bringing Wolverine to the third act. Fucking why?! It's blatantly obvious the only reason the dude's in there is because everybody's been complaining about how Gambit hasn't been in the movies considering that he's the coolest character of the comics after Wolverine himself and Taylor Kitsch plays it well, but this is what we get? This is all we get?

And it's not any of the actors fault. Most of the casts' characterization of these comic book legends are pretty spot-on, especially Liev Schrieber as Victor Creed. The bad memory of lumbering WWE champion Tyler Mane as Sabretooth is completely removed with Liev's performance and simple make-up as compared to Mane's fluffy boa ensemble. But here's the sad fact - Tyler Mane got the movie with the better script. Liev's stuck with some insanely dumb lines, as is everyone in the cast, and everybody tries to do the best with what they have but what they have ain't much. Not all the performances are great - why is there a Black Eyed Pea in the movie? Why not cast Fergie in the movie while you're at it? - but overall everyone tries their darndest to make the lines work.

Sorry, guys - they just don't.

But let's face facts. It's meant to be a big Hollywood movie, right? We're not supposed to expect a decent script, are we? No. I'll tell you what we're meant to expect - big, cool, action set pieces.

So why, oh God why, is the CGI so fucking horrendous?

Apart from the claws coming in and out, most of the time in the X-Men movies Wolvie's claws are props attached to him. Not here, no. 80% of the time his claws are computer graphics as he fights in a CGI-enhanced background together with other CGI effects and CGI bullets and CGI mattes...

...and it was so utterly beyond crap we weren't even pissed in the cinema. We were laughing our fucking asses off.

The basic rule of CGI has always been that as time passes, each new CGI movie makes the older CGI movies look crap in comparison (except for Terminator 2 - the CGI in that movie hasn't dated one bit) but this was just terrible. Wolverine's claws are now shinier, longer and faker than ever before. I think I would have enjoyed the movie more if I bought the bootleg DVD that was making the rounds for the past two weeks with the unfinished CGI because then I could just imagine how good it could have been. Have programmers gotten lazy? Have all the good ones been bought over by the Transformers post-production team? What the fuck is going on, godammit!?

I swear, Hollywood, I'm hurt. Hurt beyond recognition. Every movie I've gone to in the cinema this year has been either dissapointing, infuriating or just plain shit. And what's more, thanks to this run of crap Kitty now thinks I'm a jinx when it comes to watching movies in the cinema because every movie I've taken her to since we've started dating has been so utterly beyond salvation. None of the smaller movies make it on the big screen here, Hollywood, only your big-ass franchises, and every single one has sucked balls. The only movie that came out in the cinemas here that I enjoyed was 'Slumdog Millionaire', and I watched that on DVD because I didn't think it was coming out (although I discovered from Col. Kurtz that it was censored pretty heavily, so I'm glad I watched it on the small screen). 'The Wrestler' didn't come out in cinemas here, I had to buy the DVD too. I doubt 'The Brothers Bloom' will be on the big screen here either. Or 'Inglorious Basterds'. Or 'Drag Me To Hell', 'Crank 2', 'Downloading Nancy', 'Paper Heart', 'Public Enemies', 'Facing Ali' or 'Soul Power'.

Instead, we get 'Streetfighter: Legend of Chun Li' and fucking 'Dragonball Evolution'.

My last hopes are left on 'Star Trek', 'Transformers' and 'Terminator: Salvation' as far as big budget movies go. I might go check out the lattest Potter flick or 'Angels & Demons' and I hope 'The Taking of Pelham 123', 'Coraline' and 'Where the Wild Things Are' come out here.

But if Trek, Transformers or Terminator suck, that's it. No more. I shall not step into a local cinema for a while. This is too fucking much. What is going on, Hollywood? Is the recession that depressing that you've forgotten how to entertain? I don't expect you to make me think, or make me marvel at how brilliantly crafted a plot is. I only expect you to entertain me for two hours. To make my popcorn worthwhile and give me the opportunity to discuss the movie with my friends at length. I am sick of stepping out of the cinema shell-shocked.

Do something. Please. Because right now the only movies I want to see I can only get bootlegged, and you have only yourself to blame.

Welcome to the Industry

I went for a film related meeting the other day and was introduced to someone in The Industry. She spoke at great length about how she could get the hook-up on any sponsor we needed for a film, full of confidence to the point of pomposity and not a trace of sincerity in her voice. After 3 minutes of listening to this woman speak I quietly SMS-ed my colleague at the table:

"Why am i getting the impression this woman talks a lot of cock?"

That's what it sounded like - cock. Tons of it. My ears were in an auditory sausage fest being slapped about by pre-cum glistening floppy phaluses. She rambled on and on with such superiority, every sentence somehow ending with a less than obvious hint of how incredible she was at her job. Not a trace of humility nor honesty. In the words of a Star Wars character about to step into the unknown, I had a bad feeling about this.

Welcome to The Industry.

A while back I went to a private event for some people in The Industry where I met one of the Big Wigs. I asked him how business was. He told me that after the failure of their slightly more 'intelligent' releases (and by 'intelligent', I mean by his standards) and bigger budget productions he was told by Big Wigs bigger than him that he is not to accept any pitches that were interesting, intelligent, original or different. They were to stick with slapstick comedies because that's what (they believe) the public wants and that's what (they believe) will help them recuperate their losses. Apparently going back to these 'intelligent' releases and figuring out what was wrong with them in order to make them work is not an option.

When he spoke of indie films, he already had in his mind a perceived notion of what an indie film looked like (beautifully composed shots of silence between two underacting individuals) and what kind of plot an indie film has (any plot that the public wouldn't understand that may or may not deal with something political, racial or sexual). He spoke about how they were the ones that were raking in the box office but regardless, he wouldn't invest in one. After that another Big Wig friend complained about the lack of women at the event and asked him to call some of those young and desperate female extras to come over to 'spice things up'.

Welcome to The Industry.

Two years ago I went to a film premiere in the hope of broadening my contact base in The Industry. The producer said a few words before the film rolled and compared it to a known American director in the genre they claimed they were filming in. After the first reel I was seething. By the second reel I was desperately trying not to fall asleep considering the director's wife was sat next to me but to no avail - it was the first time I ever fell asleep in a cinema. The horror I was watching on screen was so abysmal and terrifyingly crap that my brain refused to take in any more of it.

When I went out for a cigarette after the screening with an actor friend of mine from The Industry, we were joined by another from The Industry that my actor friend knew. I listened to them talk about the movie, wondering what they would say about it. Their eyes said what I was feeling all along - "this movie is beyond shit and showing it to the public should be punishable by death".

Instead, they talked about how local audiences, in particular 'regular folk', would like it. And the saddest part was they weren't wrong - the movie made decent bank in the box office.

Welcome to The Industry.

This is The Industry where I've been making my living for the past year. I have seen wave after wave of terrible actresses who get bigger and bigger roles based solely on their perceived beauty. I have seen countless producers who claim to know their shit when in reality they couldn't connect two Lego bricks together without an instruction booklet, a video tutorial and someone next to them telling them exactly how to do it in single syllable words. I have shot page after page of scripts so disturbingly terrible one wonders what kind of retarded monkey boy signed off the check to pay these hacks. I have pitched my ass off and later discover that apparently I'm too young to be a director. I have had my scripts either rejected for being too intelligent or rewritten to the point that I wonder if it's even ethical to have my name on the cover and where the fuck is the local screenwriters guild to protect me during instances like this in the first place. I have had my award winning feature film referred to as a 'short film' more times than I'd care to remember because apparently if it's not shot on film it's not a feature regardless of how long it is. I have seen fights escalate on set to the point of blood spilled and I have worked with some of the most irresponsible jackasses in the world.
I have seen all this and plenty more and I welcome it with open arms.

I can't imagine doing anything else. I'm making flicks and shooting shows and writing scripts and playing psychos on screen. Do I seriously want to go back to nine-to-five, shirt-and-tie, memos, faxes and pointless abbreviations?

The crap gets to me, it really does, but fuck it. I welcome it, arms wide as a whores thighs at port during shore leave.

And do you know why?

Because I'm keeping all these experiences and I'm remembering every single one. And one day I'm gonna make a film about all this so don't get on my ass if the mirror shines a little too bright because, like they say, "siapa makan cili dialah rasa pedas" ("whoever eats the chilli tastes the spice").

Keep on acting like jackasses, bitches. You'll get yours one day, and I'll get mine.

Knowing Me, Knowing Poo

Dear God. What can be said about this movie that hasn't already been said about anal bleaching? Painful to the bum, completely un-needed but somehow it's a big thing.

There has been, in the history of cinema so far, no other movie that has caused my innards to want to burst out from my body and strangle its creators than 'Knowing'.

Some would retort: "Come on, it couldn't have been as bad as Batman & Robin! Or Indy 4!" Well, to that I tell you this. Batman & Robin was shit from the first two minutes of film. I stayed in the cinema to see whether it could get any better and was sadly mistaken. Even the close-up of Alicia Silverstone's bum couldn't make it better, but from the moment the movie started, it was shit. And Indy 4 is bad predominantly because it has three other well made movies to live up to and just flat out couldn't.

'Knowing' is bad because for three quarters of the film it's actually good. Sure, the CGI looks like the product of a first year student in animation, and if it was, that student should be applauded and his or her skills nurtured but no, this was a Hollywood film at a time where CGI has come a long way since the Nintendo 64 looking graphics of 'Species'. Regardless of this fact, the story still grips because it kicks off with an interesting premise and keeps building up on it: a series of numbers are found in a time capsule, each group of numbers signifying the date of an event that will cause the death of a number of people, the amount of people that will die and the coordinates of the location where the event will take place - 9/11, hurricane Katrina, etc, all leading up to present day. Three dates are of the future, and it's up to Nicolas Cage to figure out whether or not he can stop these events from happening and what it all has to do with him.

The kicker? The last date signifies the end of the world.

Sounds interesting, right? Pretty good so far. And whilst many in the world may not like the Cage-meister, he's done a lot of good movies such as 'Leaving Las Vegas' and 'Adaptation as well as flicks that I dig even though some may think they're wrong and cheesy like 'Con Air'.

Fuck you. The 'bunny in the box' moment is a landmark in action cinema.

Since it's a Hollywood Cage flick, certain things are required, such as running...

...and doing the classic Cage pose.

But as far as I'm concerned, that's ok. The bad CGI is ok. The story gripped me and Kitty and I assume Col. Kurtz/Papa Bear was at least mildly interested. Hell, even the fact that the projectionist fucked up causing the screen to blur a bit in the middle didn't bug me after a while even though we came to watch the movie specifically to see how a flick shot on the RED camera looked like blown up to 35mm. It didn't bug me because the story seemed very, very interesting. Especially when you pepper the flick with the random strangeness of creepy blonde trenchcoat guys.

The guys were reminscent of the director's previous work, 'Dark City'. Yes, that's right, ladies and gents, it's directed by Alex Proyas, who also brought us 'The Crow'. How could this movie be bad?

Wait for it.

As the movie progresses and heads to the end of the world, questions started popping up in the movie that, for a moment, I thought was the basis of the whole flick: "can one man change his destiny, or the destiny of others? Is the future set in stone? Is there a purpose to existence, to life?"

If it dealt with these questions, I wouldn't be writing this post.

The movie continues and it really looks like there's no way Cage can save the planet, which makes it even more interesting: by the third act, the key to saving the world should have popped up already, but it doesn't - earth will go boom, nothing you can do. There's a solar flare coming and we're more fucked than a brontosaurus looking up in the sky and said, "damn, that's a big rock coming towards us".

(Before any dinosaur experts say anything, let me be the first to admit that I cannot for the life of me remember what species of dinosaur existed when they went extinct. I don't know the periods except for cretaceous and only because it sounds cool.)

Now, before I continue, let me say this: THIS IS A BIG SPOILER. If you really want to see the movie and don't want to know what the big twist is, read something else because the twist is the reason I'm writing this in the first place, to warn the world of its coming so that no one need never experience the horrors I experienced at three o' clock in the morning in a poorly proejcted cinema. If you really want to experience it yourself, close this and go buy a ticket but I'm warning you. This movie is the fucking video from 'The Ring'.

Still with me? Very good. So yeah: the world's gonna end. No hope in sight. Meanwhile, Cage's son and the daughter of this girl Cage meets at some point but gets runover by a truck are being called by some unknown force tied to the blonde trenchcoat mafia that's been acting all spooky. Cage follows them. The kids say they've been chosen to follow them to safety. Cage looks up in his trademark Cage way...

...to discover a spaceship above him.

That's right. A fucking spaceship. From numerology and determinism to fucking Close Encounters. Close Encounters was about aliens, for fucks sake. Where the fuck did these guys come from?

But are they really aliens? God only knows, and that statement couldn't be more true, because that spaceship looks like some kind of futuristic star and the blonde guys turn into glowing aliens, humanoid shapes... with futuristic glowing angel wings.

Yes, you read that right.

The kids bring a rabbit each with them, because the aliens/angels said they could. One rabbit each. I wonder if the boy picked a male and the girl picked a female. I wonder, indeed.

Then the 'aliens' fly off as Nicolas Cage stirkes a pose:

Now, by this point I was ready to leave the cinema, as was Kitty and Col. Kurtz, but something inside us was curious to see how much more worse it could be.

And boy, does it get worse.

As Cage drives off to see his estranged parents who he had a fight with for the longest time, he drives through a city in... well, mild chaos at best. I dunno about you, but if the sun's out of control and there's a heatwave and the world's gonna end the last thing I'm gonna do is light a fucking bonfire.

Somehow, Cage gets through the crowds by driving in slow-motion and doesn't get stopped at any point. He walks in and sees his sister, and hugs her. He then hugs his mother and finally, his father, who's a pastor. The father says, "this isn't the end, my son," and Cage replies,

"I know".

Then they all hug and the world burns.

Cut to wheat - it's the random planet the 'aliens' have dropped the kids off, except they've also decided to give them new clothes made out of hemp and look like something from a hippy commune. The children run through the wheat towards something. The camera pulls out to reveal what they run towards and it turns out to be...

...a big ass, biblical looking tree. That glows.

So, in a nutshell, when the world ends, don't worry - think of God and feel safe in the knowledge that you'll be with your loved ones once again in Heaven when Armegeddon comes a calling, and the chosen few will be taken by angels onto a bright star together with two of their favorite furry creatures whereupon they will be dropped off at the Garden of Eden dressed like nature-loving-pot-heads. After all that build up of tension, all that intrigue and wonder, after all that, do you really, honestly, expect me to rejoice when this, THIS is the fucking twist ending? This movie should've been called the fucking Rapture!

Now, don't get me wrong: I am not, in any way, shape or form, trying to diss the Christian religion in any of it's forms, be it Catholic, Protestant, Presbytarian, Methodist, Calivinist, Born Again or any other form. To me religion is a good thing in any shape or form as long as it is not taken to extreme or used for one's own agenda (which happens way too much and pretty much given religion in any form a bad name). There is nothing wrong with Christianity, nor is there anything wrong with putting Christianic symbolism or using a film as an allegory for one's own beliefs. Religion can be found as the subtext of so many films. Scorcese's works are obviously driven by his own Catholic beliefs. Alex Proyas himself has Christian symbolism in subtext in almost all his works (except maybe 'Garage Days'). There's nothing wrong with any of that.

But there is certainly something wrong with using it as your third act fucking twist, and there is something definitely wrong with being so obvious in one's supposed subtext that it feels like the filmmaker is literally trying to shove his belief system down the throats of the viewers.

Why not just make a fucking movie about the End of Days, about Armageddon? Sure, those titles are taken, but you could call it something else! Why not just make a movie about those chapters of the bible as opposed to trying to 'hide' it within a mainstream movie with the subtlety of a six foot seven rapist with his engorged 17 inch hard-on tapping you on the shoulder with one finger and pointing to his cock with the other and saying, "I am going to stick this in your butt against your will".

There's nothing wrong with biblical movies. Biblical movies have been around since the birth of cinema - Ben Hur, the Ten Commandments, The Passion of The Christ - and there's never been anything wrong with that, so why this monstrosity?

And you know what the worst part is, folks? It's three day weekend opening gross was USD$24.8 million. It's the number one box office hit of the weekend, out-doing the business of movies such as Watchmen, Coraline and Slumdog Millionaire. Don't believe me? Here's the link.

I don't know what to say about Hollywood now. I wouldn't complain so much if the other not-so-mainstream movies made it to our big screens in this country but they don't. I had to watch the Wrestler on DVD and I'm glad I watched Slumdog on DVD because I heard it was censored on the big screen. I want to watch a good movie in the cinema for once this year with Kitty and both times we've been thoroughly dissapointed.

I swear, if Wolverine or Star Trek suck I don't think I'll be going to the cinema again for a while.

When The Chips Are Down...

...you call forth the five second rule and say to yourself, "well, they're McDonalds chips anyway, they're already fucked up. Dropping them on the floor shouldn't make a difference". Too bad spilt french fries are the least of my concerns. If I could afford french fries, this would worry me. The fact that I can't worries me even more.

Yes, that's right, folks - today's post is about MONEY.

I have never been good with money. I just haven't. I'm shite with it. When I was in A-level college, away from my parents for the first time and planted into a boarding school on the border to Wales surrounded by wheat and sheep I found myself spending my monthly allowance within the first week and a half. It would always be the same routine: get money, spend it on CD's and junk food, packs of cigarettes and a few trips to the cinema, then by the middle of the week I wouldn't have so much money but the boarding school gave us food anyway so that was covered but still spent money on cigarettes, then by the end of the week I'd find myself sifting through the ashtray for cigarette butts with a bit of tobacco still left on it and empty out as many as I could onto a rolling paper to light up and smoke and by the time the next month came around and I had my allowance again I'd be so pissed at the fact that I had no money for the past two weeks I'd spend it all again in the first week and a half and the vicious cycle would continue.

This would carry on through to university. This time, food was no longer confirmed so the cycle would start with the first week eating out everyday, second week cooking at home, third week would consist of beans on toast and by the fourth week anything that appeared edible in the fridge would be fair game.

With a spending habit such as this, it probably wasn't the best idea to get not one, but two casino memberships. I wouldn't go often, but when I did go it would be painful. Every time you'd think you're gonna play it safe, then you think you're gonna double your dough, then you're just hoping for enough for the bus fare home.

(The plus side of having a casino membership was that the swankier one had complimentary drinks and sandwiches so in times of desperation I'd put my best suit on, sit somewhere as if watching the other players and waiting for a seat, order seven sandwiches and get the fuck out of dodge).

Thankfully, Genting doesn't allow my kind into the casino which is probably for the best, but when I got back to Malaysia the cycle simply continued and I find myself these days living pretty much hand-to-mouth: get a job, get the pay, buy my shit, run out of cash, hope another job comes before I have to do something drastic involving an ill-fitting dress, make up and a tube of KY.

Now, before anyone says it, let me just say it for you - yes, all things considered, in the grand scheme of things I'm still a lucky bastard because there are way more unfortunate people than me in the world when it comes to finances. Shit, forget the world, there are way more unfortunate people within a 5 km radius. And this is true and I know this and my lament at the situation is not some kind of "oh, no, I'm so poor, I've got no money, what am I gonna do?"

It's not like that. I'm still pretty sorted as far as things go. I've got my car, I've got a roof over my head and I have access to basic food stuffs. My utilities are paid up for now and I can still switch on my computer and go on-line and download things I shouldn't be downloading and watch Craig Ferguson vids on youtube till the cows come home. I know that I'm still very fortunate and very lucky and it's not what this post is about.
This post is about how I need to learn this whole discipline about saving and pretty damn soon, 'cos a cloud gon' come from the West before you know it. Shit's hitting the fan all over the world, America and Europe are fucked beyond compare and it's spreading and I need to be prepared. We all do.

See, my first instinct when I realized what my bank balance was, "shit, I need another project to bring in some cash or I'm fucked".

(And incidentally, I somehow went on to lose my debit card directly after that but considering my bank balance whoever finds it will only be able to use it to buy a Mars bar so it's not too bad).

Although it is true that I need more cash coming in, that's not the real problem. Jobs can be found (at least, for now) and I know I'll figure something out. No, the real problem is making sure I keep some of it aside.
It's a simple premise, isn't it? Just keep some of it aside, that's it. You get your money, put some of it on the side, voila, all is well. But I just don't. I flat out don't. I have a separate high interest savings account but I pretty much spent most of it during the Dark Days of Depression when I was out of a job and trying to make rent in a dodgy apartment in Subang. There's a bit left, but I don't want to touch it. I want to add to it, and it's been my intention to add to it ever since I got out of the Dark Days but I've never put a cent in since.

How messed up is that?

I hope I can change this habit of mine. In the meantime, something tells me I'm gonna be posting up another item for sale on Facebook.

I hope it's not my ass-virginity.