Dude, Where's My Car?

Grr! I've failed! 4 weeks in and I've missed the deadline. I think thats a pretty good effort...
Note to self: plan better in advance for busy weekends.
Note to self #2: next weekend is also very busy.

So, I watched a bunch of movies this past week, some crap ones and some amazing ones, and some in between. My film class watched Indy Jones, but I think I'll have to take a rain check on writing about it - possibly do a post on the entire trilogy (the originals). The film I really wanna talk about today is Dude, Where's My Car.

This movie is... not a masterpiece. To say the least. But it is interesting, in a bizarre sort of way. I've never taken pot, but I get the feeling that if I did, life would kinda be like this film. I've heard it described as a gross-out comedy, but it really isn't. I've also heard it compared to Waynes World, which might be more apt (I haven't seen that movie for too long). It's basically a friendly, dumb, trip out tale of some dudes being dudes.


The plot revolves around Jesse and Chester. They live together, possibly with another dude who lives in the closet and only comes out once a day to pee in the pot plant. Theres pretty much no point in including his one scene in the movie. They wake up to find that after a night of partying, their fridge is full of pudding, they've trashed their twin girlfriends' house, and Jesses car is missing. Also, aliens are involved. If you haven't seen this movie, and this premise entertained you at least mildly, then it's probably worth your time to watch it, so long as you're with the right group. If reading this made you groan, you will hate the experience.

SPOILERS FOLLOW, but I'll try not to ruin any of the gags.

For me, my inner wannabe-film-critic was in a constant state of dissatisfied mumbling about consistency, character, plot development, bad writing, bad acting and bad effects. But, I managed to tune out of that part of my mind, and come along for the ride. There are things to appreciate in this film.

Lets start with some basic pretentious film interpretation: This movie puts you into the mind of its characters. By the end of this film, you could well be disappointed by its blatant regression to the cliche: "It was all just a dream... OR WAS IT?". But of course, we know it was all a dream. We sane people watching this film know that the things that play out in this film are utterly ridiculous, and given that the main characters are established as stoners, theres a good chance that none of it is real, and they're high as a kite the whole film. It's the kind of nonsense you might expect these two to talk about, and imagine are happening, in the car on their way to meet their girlfriends. But it's more than that; the film gives you a sense of what it's like to be these characters, while they're on their trip. Theres a kind of naive warm-heartedness with which they approach every obstacle in their path. When they get arrested and threatened by police, the pair act innocent until one of the cops recognises them. When said cop accidentally impounds their car and has it sold, they laugh it off and hop along on their quest to retrieve it. The two leads do play an excellent and charismatic bromance, that really conveys the sense of dumb fun that the movie requires of you to enjoy it.

I actually love how it starts out with an almost-realism about it, before it goes completely wacky. The real crazy stuff gets introduced slowly, and built upon, until it climaxes in an orgy of ridiculousness, thats so laughably lame you can't help but smile at it. The film is about escapism; going along for a ride, without fear or rationality, just pure dumb fun. If you do plan to watch it, check you're brain at the door,  bring some friends with you, and just be dumb together.

The Wedding Of River Song (and Doctor Who Series 6)

I'm going to start out with a short review of this episode, then add a spoiler tag before I talk about the series as a whole. I'm also going to go ahead and bump up my word limit a bit. Since we're talking about a TV series that is at least 10 times the length of an average film, I'll assume it's reasonable to devote double my normal words to it.

To set the scene: I am not quite old enough to be a long time fan of Dr Who, but as a child I did watch bits and pieces of the old series as they were rebroadcast. I tuned in at the start of the new series, and was quite dazzled by the newness of it. I wasn't a mad fan though, and although I watched most of the following series, I wasn't hooked and I didn't follow that closely.
What got my attention was Steven Moffat (who, in my mind, always seems to be spelt 'Stephen'. Weird.) Both for his excellent contributions to the Dr Who series, and for his other stuff. I didn't see much of Coupling, but Sherlock was brilliant. So when I found out he was to be show-runner, I started to give it some attention. His first full series was probably the best of the bunch... until this one came along. That said, there's plenty of holes to plot and nits to pick, so I'll get stuck straight in.

The Wedding of River Song is one of the most confusing experiences I've had watching a TV show. All those weeks of building up suspense, and showing those crazy ads (WHOA, pterodactyls? in Dr Who?), and they finally let us in to... whatever this world is. Everything is mushed together like some kind of living history museum where somebody's jumbled up all the facts just for fun.

It's a bit jarring, and strange, but it becomes clearer as it goes on, and I do find this episode to be very intriguing to consider as a series final. Usually there's more hype. There's more grandiose claims about the survival of the universe - there's more 'universe' shown to us to be in peril. Here the grand special effects serve the purpose of building up the world, rather than adding to the 'ultimate-ness' of the ending. Right up front, all the show and fluff merely sets the scene for what really boils down to a very convoluted answer to the question 'does the Doctor really die?'.

If you've watched Dr Who for any length of time, you should already know the answer to that.

The extra bits are fun though. It's great to see more of the Silence, even though they're far better suited to the eerie bits of the Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon two-parter. References to past Dr Who, from this season and others, and from other material as well (the Dickens reference was particularly clever, both referencing Who lore, and reinforcing the strangeness of the world). Interactions between characters are entertaining, and while the resolution is a little questionable, the focus on character and engaging story are a welcome break from the bloated end-of-reality-time-space-everything-disaster stories seen in seasons past.

SPOILERS, FROM THIS POINT ON (FOR THE ENTIRE 6TH SERIES)

Let's get to that resolution, shall we?

All that extra storytelling explains what? The Tessalecta impersonated the Doctor, and was shot by River in Utah. I've been uncertain throughout the whole series about how satisfyingly they would be able to pull off the Doctors' escape from apparent death. All in all, I am still uncertain about this conclusion. It's easy to say it's a cop out - just a man in a robot suit, not very surprising or interesting. It makes me wonder why the Doctor even had to be on the beach then? To control the robot so it acted like him I suppose, but at one point he also says that 'Time demanded that I be on that beach at that moment'. Makes me wonder who this Time person is and how he controls everything in the universe? (There doesn't seem to exist a God in Dr Who canon, except for the Doctor of course). Seriously, why does he have to be there? What is a 'fixed point in time'? How is one created? How does one know when one happens? How can free will interfere if it is 'fixed'?

Brushing that aside, this conclusion has some pretty intriguing implications for the series. The Doctor has been seen as a messianic figure a few times more than once in the past 6 series. He's travelled everywhere across parallel dimensions and alternate galaxies, has conquered foes that threatened to destroy existence itself, has had dozens upon dozens of inspiring speeches said about him... and just generally, it seems, the universe relies on him way too much. I thought this show started out as being about a simple traveller who went places?

I digress: implications! With the universe believing the Doctor to be dead and gone, what shall he do now? Obviously theres a whole lot of questions still to be answered, about the fields of Trenzelor, and the fall of the eleventh (the eleventh Doctor, perhaps?). But for the Doctor, this will mean a chance to just kick back and relax with the whole 'saving the universe every other weekend' thing. Perhaps for the show this will mean a return to simple, small-scale stories. Perhaps, like this year, they will be driven by the characters (All of which were great, by the way). I hope they take this opportunity to really delve into the Doctors' character; what makes him tick?

The fact that the question is the first, the oldest, and is hidden in plain sight, and is in fact the very title of the show perhaps points to a highly self-reflexive season next year. Maybe the Doctor will realise that he is the very reason that this universe exists - that everything around him was invented for him by screenwriters and novelists, and his entire life, all he's ever known is in fact a television show broadcast to millions worldwide! Man, if only that were Tru.

Maybe all this hype is around the reveal of his name. I hope not. That would be dumb.

Other loose ends continue to hang. Madame Kovarian was only killed in the aborted timeline; she and the rest of the Silence still loom in the distance. I think series five never got round to explaining why the Tardis blew up. Considering this series was all about how the Doctor both escapes death and the attention of the universe, perhaps that's something he might now wish to follow up on. Maybe he did follow up on it in the 200 years of his timeline that transpired. That seems like an awful lot, doesn't it? Lots of gaps that could be filled in.

It's hard to say what the next series will bring along, but there's plenty of ways it could go, and although it could slide down a dangerously canon-crushing (or worse, uninteresting) path, there is potential here for something amazing, and I look forward to tuning in next year!

The Lightbulb Conspiracy

Once upon a time..... products were made to last. Then, at the beginning of the 1920s, a group of businessmen were struck by the following insight: 'A product that refuses to wear out is a tragedy of business'. Thus, Planned Obsolescence was born...

Ok, this one's a bit obscure. I finally got around to watching a few short films from a festival that my friend gave to me. This one was an hour long - not what I expected when I sat down for a few minutes of down time, but I resolved to watch the beginning. To my surprise, it was thoroughly engaging and insightful, breakdown of the driving forces and dark secrets behind the capitalist economy that runs our society (or, at any rate, mine).

The documentary begins with an ordinary Barcelonan man trying to print something with his Epson. But the printer isn't working! Best get a new one, all the technology shops say. A part in it needs replacing, but to do so would cost more than it's worth. As the man embarks on a quest to restore his printer to functionality - a printer with not a thing wrong with it other than a full ink overflow - the film explores the origins and effects of Planned Obsolescence.

You may not have heard of Planned Obsolescence, but if you live in a developed society, you most definitely would have experienced it. It's the concept of every thing that you purchase having an "expiry date". Even though it could be designed to last for longer, it has been intentionally built to break after a certain period, to encourage consumers to buy a new one. Another definition given to us is the "desire on the part of the consumer to own something a little newer, a little sooner than is necessary..." The film explains that it all began with the first mass-market light bulbs, when the leading manufacturers got together and agreed that the limit for a light bulbs life span should be universally set at 1000 hours (prior to this, 2500+ hours had been achieved). This meant that the customers would be forced to purchase a new bulb more often, making them more money.

Although at first the film seems to finger-point at the big businesses and corporations behind this seemingly sinister suggestion, it isn't afraid to examine the issue more thoroughly, and delve deeper into what the concept meant for the industrialized world. In America, it was the adoption of Planned Obsolescence on a broader scale - from cars to fridges to stockings - that revitalised the economy, and pulled them out of the great depression. In East Germany and other socialist states, the hardy made-to-last products that suited the communist economy couldn't hold up in a capitalist market, where spending drives growth, and growth is the ultimate objective. 100 000 hour bulbs now only exist in museums. Ultimately, it is society that is to blame, and every individual that takes part in it.

What comes to mind is a quote I learnt from Civilization IV, which baffled me when I first heard it:
"The bureaucracy must expand to meet the needs of the expanding bureaucracy"

In a fascinating and poignant final segment, the movie then follows massive shipping containers of 'broken' technology out of America and accross the ocean into third-world Africa. There we see a society whose home has become a waste dump for our excess; the more we grow, the more these people must strive.

In sum: the film is challenging, and engaging, and if you didn't zone out when I mentioned capitalist economy (or even if you did, and you skipped to the end to read the summary), look for a chance to check it out. It's shorter than a full length movie, but will make you think harder. And if there's any hope of getting ourselves out of this rut, it's going to take a lot of thinking...

The Shining

So, it's 2 minutes to midnight on Saturday night... If I start writing now it still counts as on time, right? :)

This week I didn't watch any movies that I was desperate to relive. Instead, because my film class is focussed on Horror movies this week, I watched The Shining. In fact, I watched it twice. The first time was supposed to be in class, but I skipped class that day, and watched it alone, at night instead.

Crap, that was a bad idea. Didn't sleep well at all - had visions all night of creepy twins, and a river of blood... I have to say that this is one of the most unpleasant experiences I've had watching a movie, while at the same time it is such an admirably well-made film. The absolute highlight for me was that cascade of blood; possibly the most arresting image I've ever seen on the screen. I had seen it before, on youtube, but in the context of the film it's used to great effect, and it never seems to get old, or less disturbing, no matter how many times it's shown.

In fact, I thought I'd show it to my girlfriend - she loves horror movies - to see if she thought it was as incredible as I did. The moment she saw it she said "We're watching this. Now." So, I sat through this disturbing flick a second time in the same week. It's amazing that even when you know what's coming, the movie is powerful enough to keep you as unsettled as the first watch. Redrum is now our catchphrase.

HERE ONWARDS BE SPOILERS!!

Taking a cue from the Slashfilmcast (probably my favourite movie podcast), I just threw that tag up there to let you know: I'm going to talk about the ending, and other plot details of the film, so if you haven't seen it, read no further. Mind you, I read the plot summary of The Shining on wikipedia years ago; It's not the twists of plot that gets to you, it's the heavy, heavy atmosphere.

One other moment that sticks out for me is when Jack starts screaming in his sleep, and awakes frantic. He looks genuinely frightened as he describes the horrible things he did in his nightmare to his wife. I'm not a father, but having a baby sister, and being a committed boyfriend, I can empathise with the kind of terror that would strike a father at the thought of losing his mind and striking out against the people that depend on you to protect them. I see this scene as a rare moment of sanity for Jack, on his slippery slope into madness, when he suddenly realises that the visions he's seeing are horrible, and desperately seeks a reprieve in his ever-commited wife.

Now, the movie does imply (very definitely in the extended version) that Jack is not a great father; an alcoholic and abusive man, who doesn't care for his family, despite Wendy's incessant loyalty. It's this checkered past in their relationship that makes her turn on him in his time of need, accusing him, quite reasonably, of injuring Danny. Although it is a sad moment of misunderstanding, and perhaps Jack wouldn't have gone quite so mad if she'd stuck with him in that moment (he then proceeds, frustrated, to get an invisible drink from the imaginary bartender; his first vision that ultimately leads to his rampage), in a way it is his own fault, for the way he's treated them in the past.

If you're like me, and wondering what the hell was up with all that craziness at the end (like the visions that Wendy sees, and the motivation behind the ghosts), the book is much less ambiguous, and from what I gathered from Wikipedia, it goes thus:

The Overlook hotel is in fact a psychic entity itself. When Danny arrives, it seeks to obtain his psychic power by killing him. It sends him visions, trying to break him, but he defends himself through his split personality - Tony is like the psychic aspect of himself. Failing that, the hotel attacks Jack, playing off his flaws, to drive him to do it's bidding, i.e., go mad and kill his family (namely Danny). When Halloran is murdered, the hotel absorbs his psychic power, which allows Wendy to see the 'ghosts'.

In sum, the film is a masterpiece, with some harrowing and unsettling imagery and music (Oh the music!), wrapped up in a plot that's both simple and subtly ambiguous. It could be read any number of ways, and the themes in it are powerful, and worth dwelling upon. I've only really offered a taste of the potential for reading this movie, but I guess that's the point of only writing snippets.
800 words. Too many. I'm off to bed.
Redrum.