At last, a comic book superhero movie where I don't have to say "It's good, but..." or "It's good, except..."
It's good. Yay!
My first Festival movie of the year was George A. Romero's Diary of the Dead. I saw it with 5 friends; all of us have seen (and are fans of) Romero's previous Dead movies. Four of us hated it, the other two liked it.
Count me as liking it. I think I watched it differently to everyone else, though. I'm pretty sure most of the others took it a bit more literally than I did; where they saw preaching, I saw mocking satire.
I think I really need to watch it again to find out what I thought of it.
There's a party at mine on Saturday 19 July. It was going to be flatwarming for one flatmate and a farewell for another flatmate. Now it looks like the farewell is postponed (indefinitely, I hope), so we can call it a double flatwarming.
So: if you know where I live, and I haven't recently stabbed you in the throat with a broken bottle, and you're going to be in my city on the night, you're welcome to come along.
In the meantime...
Popular wisdom seems to hold that 'cunt' is the most offensive curse word in the English language. I'd argue that it's beaten hands-down by 'rape'.
A couple of years ago, a complete stranger accosted me in the middle of the road, and said "Rapist! Are you going to Cannibal Corpse?"
It had a much stronger impact than if he'd said "Cunt!" or "Motherfucker!" or "Shit stained undies!" or whatever. It also made me say (not out loud, for he was not a small man) "Argh, get the fuck away from me!"
I'm not sure what my point is. Any ideas?
This list is true for today only, of course.
Best song: Hey by the Pixies.
Worst song: These Words by Natasha Bedingfield.
Best movie: Casablanca.
Worst movie: Superchick.
Best holiday: Nelson, 2003.
Worst holiday: Dunedin, 2003.
Best band I hate: Les Zeppelin.
Worst band I love: Killer Barbies.
Best gig: DJ Krush, 2008.
Worst gig: I'd better not say, she might read it.
Best food: Pizza.
Worst food: Pizza.
And so on into infinity.
There ain't nothing of interest going on in my life, despite some amusing rumours caused by an insignificant change in my Facebook profile, but I have been watching quite a few movies.
Control is a biopic of Joy Division singer Ian Curtis based on the book by his wife Deborah. It's a pretty good, if straightforward, account that entertains without digging to deep. Acting is fine, movie looks ok in fairly bland black & white. It was pretty good overall; maybe if you love Joy Division you'll get more excited than I did.
Waitress is a pretty original and very entertaining comedy about a pregnant woman who has an affair and bakes some pies. It's the first (and sadly the last) movie to be written & directed by talented actor Adrienne Shelley, who also appears in a supporting role. The script is clever and unpredictable, the cast (including Keri Russell, Nathan Fillion and Andy Griffith) is great, and it all looks cool. Highly recommended.
Grindhouse was quite fun. It consists of two imitation '70s exploitation movies linked with fake ads & trailers as if it were a vintage double feature. Creative use is made of print damage and other imperfections, especially in the vastly superior first movie on the bill.
Planet Terror was definitely the pick of the two movies, offering a breakneck pace, endless fun scenes and ideas, good performances and as much OTT splattery gore as an early Peter Jackson movie.
Death Proof was disappointing, quite tedious and lacking in pace, character, story or good acting. However it did rally for a bravura finale that showed off some remarkable stunt work from Zoe Bell. Kurt Russell was also fun.
The trailers were cool, my favourite being Rob Zombie's Werewolf Women of the SS and Edgar Wright's Don't.
Overall it offered a pretty good facsimile of a '70s trash double feature, with more entertainment value than most thanks to PT's great showing. Full marks for writer/director Robert Rodriguez, but Death Proof helmer Quentin Tarantino has made his worst movie yet.
Planet Terror kind of makes it a must see, but is also available on its own. The last half hour of Death Proof makes up for the rest of the movie. Somewhat recommended.
Mr. Brooks was original and highly entertaining. The premise is that Kevin Costner is a serial killer and that William Hurt is the sadistic alter ego/multiple personality who talks to him when it's time to think about killing. Scenes of Costner as a respected businessman and loved husband & father, which would play as cheesy sentiment in another movie, are darkly funny here.
Costner and Hurt are both excellent, and the supporting cast does well (even Demi Moore as the tough cop on Mr. Brooks's trail). The story wraps together a lot of disparate threads into what could have been a convoluted mess but which the filmmakers manage to work into a mostly coherent whole.
A serial killer movie has to go a long way to really impress me. This one did. It's no classic, but it has consistent fun ideas and goes to a couple of places other movies would not. Heartily recommended.
Thanks to friends who have helped, some without knowing. Particularly D. and S., neither of whom read this blog. Warm fuzzies.