5th Monday Ugh: Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen

Actual movie quote: "I am directly beneath the enemy scrotum!"

It's a fifth Monday, and you know what that means, don't you? It means instead of reviewing some great work (as is heavily implied by the name of the blog), I will instead be addressing something which affects us all: bad movies. Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen is my least favorite film. (And, yes, I've talked about this once before.) I'm not saying it is the worst movie ever made, I'm saying that I personally despise it with such tremendous passion that these feelings have come all the way around again, and I find it bizarrely irresistible. Drake Lloyd, director of the 1990 horror b-movie Troll 2, once said something to the effect of, "Having people tell me this is the worst movie they've ever seen is the same as them saying it's the best movie they've ever seen." Obviously, I don't think Transformers 2 is so bad that it has magically become the best film ever made, but I must concede, when I'm in the mood to be angry, I enjoy watching Transformers 2.

Typically on this blog, I try to organize my thoughts in a way that makes sense and is accessible to the reader, but I'm going to make an exception today. :) Bay expects his audience to sit through complete confusion, and he's incredibly rich. Perhaps lack of cohesion is precisely what this blog needs to propel it forward to absolute fame. So here is my rant, which should be read aloud and with as much gusto as you can gather:

There are THREE scenes in which something is humping something else. Two are dogs ("No dominating Franky!"), and one is a small robot. One of these humping scenes is a brief breakaway shot entirely unconnected to any other action or dialogue in the film. It hopes only to appease our appetite for random stimuli. 

I have seen this movie a number of times, but only in searching
for these images have I learned this little lady is apparently
named, "Alice." Good to know.

I watched in wonder and disgust, mouth slightly agape, as the two-and-a-half hour long juggernaut of a film lumbered on from one incomprehensible scene to another. The plot is about as easy to follow as Primer, but instead of showing confidence in our intelligence, the film seeks to destroy it. 

Shia's mom acts like a mental patient, but we don't know why. At Princeton (you know, the party school where everyone dresses like they just stepped off the cover of the Cosmopolitan, and no one cares about grades) she eats compacted green cubes out of bag with a marijuana sticker on it, insisting that they are normal brownies, despite her family's pleas that she stop. She then promptly tells three or four passing girls that her son's cherry was recently popped. This gem is followed by her tackling someone playing frisbee for some reason, but we are not sure why, since random violence is not a well know symptom of digesting pot. Twice during the film robots fart for our entertainment. Not one girl in the entire movie seems to weigh over a hundred-and-ten-pounds, and everyone of them has the same kind of clothes and wears their hair down. 

Robots fight, but we have no understanding of who they are or what they are doing. We cut away to a robot orbiting earth several times, but why? We cut away to some other planet where robots talk to each other about "waiting" to initiate a "plan," but we don't know where it is, or who is talking, or why. The "plan" is formless and without point A or point B. Did they end up "waiting?" Who knows! 

Let's see: Breasts? Check. Shia looking maybe not so smart? Check.
Random machinery? Check. Now just throw in someone screaming
a word or phrase repeatedly, something humping something else, and
some kind of indecipherable action, and you've got yourself the perfect
Transformers 2 tableau.

The sun is apparently going to be blown up at some point, and the only way to stop it is to bring another robot back to life, but the connection is lost to us. Some objects can bring some robots back to life, but not others. Some of these objects cannot be used without a human visiting Robot Heaven or someplace, where robots say that they are testing him. Also, they can control matter from beyond the grave sometimes. Robots have Brooklyn accents, English accents, "Gangster" accents, but we don't know why. Some of the robots are very, very stupid, but there is no explanation as to WHY ANYTHING IS HAPPENING. There are two robots named "Skids" and "Mudflap" who are insulting caricatures of African American "gangstas," that would be more at home in a closet white supremacist movie fifty years ago. 

Apparently, though they are super-advanced robots, they cannot read, nor can they think. Many robots fight in the desert, but we don't know why. They fight in a forest, in a city, near a beach, in suburbia. We don't know why. We are expected to not ask questions. Megan Fox wants to leave Shia Labeouf's character, but then she stays with him, then she wants to leave him, yet she wishes he would tell her he loves her, which he--despite being patently obsessed with her--has apparently never done. 

The characters talk rapidly, unintelligibly, repeating any line they can as often as possible. The subtitles assure as that the garbled mess we are hearing is actually made up of words. These are lines such as, "Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!", "You're my son! You're my son! You're my son!", "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" and my personal favorite, "Stand up against the wall! Stand up against the wall! Stand up against the wall! Stand up against the wall!" Shia befriends a young man who is exactly like him in every way we can assess. The Rifftrax beg the pointed question "Doesn't this movie already have a Shia Labeouf?" 

See Shia. She Shia run. Run Shia, run.

The evil robots, whom I originally tried to keep track of by remembering that they are the ones who aren't colorful, become more colorful as the movie progresses, obliterating all hope of being distinguished. People make jokes, but we don't understand them. A professor acts godlike, Shia freaks out because he either touched something or saw something or read something, he says that Einstein was wrong, then leaves class. Do I even need to tell you that we don't know why he does this? 

We hope that by wishing as hard as we can we will be able to banish Rainn Wilson, Tom Kenny, John Turturro, and Scott McNiel from this mockery of film, but when we open our eyes, they are still in it. It goes from bad, to worse, to inexcusable, to unbelievable. You might wonder, out of all this (and so much that I have failed to mention), what was the worst thing about the movie? It's success. I bid you adieu, with the humble plea that Michael Bay's future funding be divided out equally among Shane Carruth, Joss Whedon, and Jared and Jerusha Hess.

-MA 4.29.13


PS - Can I just add this? The ENTIRE third film is devoted to creating some nonsense called a "space bridge," yet "Iron Hide" makes one in the second movie NO PROBLEM. Where are the quality assurance people??

By Reason of Insanity - Stevens (Novel)

May I first off just say, "thank you" to everyone who reads this blog? Honestly, I have no idea who most of you are, but it makes me very happy to have readers who (based on the stats Blogger gives me) seem to be more-or-less consistent. As I have said, I started this blog as much for the love of writing as anything else. I typically write fiction, so I thought it would be a good idea to have a non-fiction outlet as well. I've always tried to have the attitude that I don't actually care if people read what I'm writing, because it really is an intellectual exercise for me to "stay sharp", but I'm not going to pretend it doesn't do my heart good to know that there are people out there that like what I write. Don't be afraid to comment, by the way, that lets me know you care. (Does that sound desperate?)

That being said, let us move on to today's review: By Reason of Insanity (1979). I wish I could claim to be cool enough to have known about Shane Stevens before reading about him in the back of Stephen King's odd novel The Dark Half. I guess I could claim that, but it would be a lie. Stevens' books enjoyed some popularity when they were written, then they were largely forgotten until King gave a shout-out to Stevens by naming a sort-of character in The Dark Half after someone in Dead City. After that, three of the titles (Dead City, By Reason of Insanity, and The Anvil Chorus) were reprinted for public consumption. I'm indebted to King for doing this, but it's sad that it needed to be done at all; Stevens is one of the finest novelists of which I am aware, and I feel he deserves much more recognition than he has.

His earlier books are harder to find. I've seen used paperback copies of Rat Pack selling on Amazon for upwards of $80. Recently I lucked out and acquired a copy of Go Down Dead for about $15, but mostly the books available to readers these days are those mentioned above as being reprinted. I know, I know, I haven't even touched on Insanity, but I'm getting there. I have one last item of interest before the novel itself: my perception of Stevens' career.

I have read four of his novels and have found the following to be true:

 If my arbitrary number system confuses you, let's say "200" would be considered "an uncommonly good book," while "500" would be somewhere in the neighborhood of "wow, this book seriously changed me." I can't stress enough how blown away I was by Insanity, nor can I express fully my disappointment and confusion in reading The Anvil Chorus. Chorus was Stevens last book. He's still alive, btw, but I don't know why he stopped writing. Perhaps he gave everything he had in Insanity, which would explain why The Anvil Chorus (while incredibly well written) is ultimately meaningless and nigh-unreadable. I may be exaggerating slightly by awarding it a "0", but I think you get the idea. Whatever the reason, let us consider Insanity to be his magnum opus, and effectively his spiritual last novel.

By Reason of Insanity is a crime novel, as all of Stevens' books are. It focuses on the life of a fictitious serial killer, Thomas Bishop. I emphasize "fictitious" because it can be easy to forget that this is a novel and not a fictionalization of a historic account. The book is so brutal, so utterly real, that it seems unlikely to the reader that it didn't actually happen. Stevens has created a challenge with this book to filmmakers, novelists, and artists of any kind: just try to do better. I believe that challenge, while implied, is also meant to be explicit. (Is that even possible?) Stevens had a goal: to make the reader understand as fully as possible why some people believe they were made only to murder other people, with the added horror of realizing there is nothing on earth that will change such a person's opinion on the matter.

When I say this book is brutal, I'm not foolin'. This is not a book for the over-queasy or delicate. Not to say there is anything wrong with being sensitive, mind you, I'm simply stating if you are such a person, you may not want to read this book. If, on the other hand, criminal psychology and the logistics of serial killings is of interest to you, this book is the best fiction resource you're likely to find.

Years of research went into this novel, and the power of that research is realized. Dozens of well-developed characters (from politicians, to reporters, to mob bosses) are utilized to tell the story from a hundred different angles. Nothing, positively nothing, is left to the imagination. This is something most writers (myself included) would shy away from, and with good reason. But Stevens breaks this rule intentionally, and has the raw writing power to do it. My biggest complaint with the book is that it doesn't really have gender sensibility in mind. I don't believe it is meant to be overtly sexist (as if that were common), but I don't care for the general intelligence level of the female characters, which are uniformly unintelligent. This is not only offensive, but pulls me out of the reality Stevens has crafted with such care. But, no book is perfect. Except maybe Midnight Sun. But we'll get to that another day.

One thing about Stevens I appreciate is his lack of interest in glorifying evil. In all of his novels he is an exposer of evil, an expounder or evil, but never is he a defendant of it. By Reason of Insanity is harrowing, but it is also instructive. I recommend it to a certain type of person, as King has said, "unreservedly." Whether or not that means you is your call.

-MA 4.22.13

Black Sails in the Sunset - AFI (Album)

I'm a big AFI fan. I think I've seen them in concert now four or five times, although not within recent years. I was introduced to the band through a friend of mine before their "breakthrough" album Sing the Sorrow came out, and I remember being really happy that they made it big my senior year of high school. Their progression as a band is an interesting one; formed in '91 and releasing their first album in '95, their sound was much closer to early punk bands than to the gothic rock it would eventually become. I appreciate each of the band's albums for different reasons, but in the last year or two it's become obvious to me that I prefer one over any of the others: Black Sails in the Sunset, which debuted in '99. It is one of two "bridging" albums between their old and new style, I think that gives it a unique feeling and genuineness. Wow, is there really not a better form of "genuine" to end that sentence with? Genuinity? Whatever.

Sails is the kind of album that has hidden depth. I remember listening to it only sporadically growing up, opting instead to listen to The Art of Drowning and Sing the Sorrow. The recording quality of both albums was better than on Sails, and I could actually understand what Havok was singing. Now, however, I hear and feel an intense energy in Sails that I don't find elsewhere. It's true, at first many of the songs sound very similar to one another, and without looking up the lyrics you don't have a prayer of understanding the words, but to me there is something almost pretentiously good about Sails.

The lyrics are most powerful when in context of the songs. Here is one of the best tracks on the album, with lyrics included:

Open my eyes as I submerge and I won't deny what I've been since birth.
I'll die drowned by your standards.
Breathe in the life of the summer's death as the orange and red breathe their first breath,
So welcome as they're burning through.

We all begin to burn. Autumn's flame dances in my eyes
Set alight for all we've learned. My ashes falling.

My skin is singed but it heals my heart, and with glowing pride I'll wear my scars.
I'm honored by your hatred.
Leaves fall we arise again, and the end impending, it will begin.

So welcome as they're burning through.

We all begin to burn. Autumn's flame dances in my eyes
Set alight for all we've learned. My ashes falling.

Can you feel me? Go!
Ashes fall and I'm rising up again. Ashes fall.
Ashes fall. Ashes fall as we all arise.

  

I doubt if while they were recording the album the band knew how good it was going to be, and I have a suspicion that even if they were to try to duplicate the feeling and power of Sails now they wouldn't even get close. It's probably a good thing that they moved from this sound, and found new legs with Decemberunderground and Crash Love, because Sails does not need to be recreated. It is beautiful as it is, you just need to listen to it about a hundred times.

-MA 04.16.13

The Reviews of Roger Ebert

As I'm sure almost everyone has heard by now, film critic Roger Ebert died this last week at the age of 70. About a month or so back I began wondering if something was wrong with his health since his site began featuring reviews by others with increasing frequency. Other writers (with more research power and time at their disposal) have already written about Ebert more completely than I could hope to. Instead of an in-depth look at his life and overarching influence, I'd like to simply tell you how his work has influenced me, and then point out a couple of my favorite Ebert reviews.

I have a list of potential "great works" which I wrote a few months back, they range from webcomics to songs to novels; "the reviews of Roger Ebert" is one of the items on that list. I realize it sounds cliche, but his reviews were actually a big part of why I decided to start this blog. The way he views movies with an active, critical mind drew me in and challenged me to do the same. I have read more than a thousand of his review articles over the last couple of years, even reading reviews for movies I never intend to see. He sees films quite differently from the way I do, and though it is not uncommon in the least for me to disagree with his opinion about a particular film or scene, I always appreciate what he brings to light. I am even able to read what he wrote about Gentleman Broncos without wanting to rejoice in his recent passing. I know, too soon.

RIP Roger Ebert, thank you for your insights.

-MA 4.9.2013

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The GWR "best of" Ebert:

North - "I hated this movie. Hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it. Hated every simpering stupid vacant audience-insulting moment of it. Hated the sensibility that thought anyone would like it. Hated the implied insult to the audience by its belief that anyone would be entertained by it." Note: The reason there are no stars displayed on the top of North's review is because it received no stars. 

Primer - "The movie delights me with its cocky confidence that the audience can keep up. 'Primer' is a film for nerds, geeks, brainiacs, Academic Decathlon winners, programmers, philosophers and the kinds of people who have made it this far into the review. It will surely be hated by those who 'go to the movies to be entertained' and embraced and debated by others, who will find it entertains the parts the others do not reach. It is maddening, fascinating and completely successful." This has been reviewed on GWR as well.

The Village - "Eventually the secret of Those, etc., is revealed. To call it an anticlimax would be an insult not only to climaxes but to prefixes. It's a crummy secret, about one step up the ladder of narrative originality from It Was All a Dream. It's so witless, in fact, that when we do discover the secret, we want to rewind the film so we don't know the secret anymore."

Beavis and Butt-Head - "It is impossible to feel any affection for B&B. They aren't lovable goofs, like Bill and Ted (of 'Excellent Adventure' fame). Judge has stripped them of all redeeming qualities. Why, then, did 'Beavis and Butt-Head Do America' hold my interest, and amuse and stimulate me--why was the movie so much fun? Because B&B represent an extreme version of people we see around us every day, and because the movie is radical and uncompromising: Having identified B&B as an extreme example of grunge, disaffection and cheerfully embraced ignorance, the movie is uncompromising in its detestation of them." This has been reviewed on GWR as well.

Baby Geniuses -  "Bad films are easy to make, but a film as unpleasant as 'Baby Geniuses'' achieves a kind of grandeur. And it proves something I've long suspected: Babies are cute only when they're being babies. When they're presented as miniature adults (on greeting cards, in TV commercials or especially in this movie), there is something so fundamentally wrong that our human instincts cry out in protest."

Battlefield Earth -  " 'Battlefield Earth' is like taking a bus trip with someone who has needed a bath for a long time. It's not merely bad; it's unpleasant in a hostile way. The visuals are grubby and drab. The characters are unkempt and have rotten teeth. Breathing tubes hang from their noses like ropes of snot. The soundtrack sounds like the boom mike is being slammed against the inside of a 55-gallon drum. The plot. . . .But let me catch my breath. This movie is awful in so many different ways."

unmarketabletalents

I don't have a review for this week. Oops! What I do have is news about another blog I have been working on that's quite different from this one:

http://unmarketabletalents.blogspot.com/

This is the sort of thing you might expect to see there.

It's where I will be posting my own art from now on: visual, written, and otherwise. As is stated on the top of the blog, the works there are create to provoke and inspire, so go there if you like those kinds of things.  I don't so much mean "inspire" like, "Oh man, I'm so inspired," as I mean something like, "Now I want to go make some kind of art of my own."

Also, any misspellings on the artworks are intentional. For some reason I like them. It updates every MWF.

MA 4.1.13

PS - No, this is not a practical joke.