Superman II

Man of Steel's trailer was awesome. I loved it. But the movie itself is actually absurd.

(My friend Walter reminded me that the trailer for Pearl Harbor was good, too.)

And it isn't just that Superman is rather a boring character (he is) or that the plot doesn't actually get started until at least halfway into the movie. I think it may be that Zack Snyder doesn't really know what he's doing. (Obviously a Michael Bay fan, Snyder one-ups Bay's falling skyscrapers in Transformers 3 by including at least three falling skyscrapers in Man of Steel.) Snyder alternates between explosion-filled setpieces and sententious scenes about "doing the right thing", and this is, basically, all he's got for us. In fact, somehow the movie manages to be about 90% exposition.

The sententiousness is provided by Russell Crowe and Kevin Costner – and more often than not only the sonorous tones of their voices (both fine in the movie, even though their characters are absurdly crafted). The content of this sententiousness is Snyder's usual generic mix of USAmerican patriotism, love of violence, Christian imagery, and pro-militarism. Yay America! Fun game: try to count the number of American flags in Man of Steel. Yay Jesus! Kal-El tells the militarized U.S. government that he is thirty-three years old. Since Henry Cavill was only twenty-nine during filming, it seems a rather blatant reference to the age of Jesus Christ when he was crucified. Yay military power! There are no democratically elected leaders in the movie; only fascist dictators and military leaders. But adolescent Clark, while getting picked on but refusing to punch the bully in the face, is reading (for pleasure, apparently) Plato's Republic. Some people, Man of Steel says, ought to have more power than most. It's okay if someone has a great amount of power as long as it's the right man who has the power. It's okay to break laws made by the majority, as long as you know you are doing the right thing. This is, of course – like Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises (Nolan was a co-writer on Man of Steel) – an apologia for dictatorship, increased government authority, and (not to be alarmist but) the police state.

It sounds like what I really object to in Man of Steel is its politics, but it's the movie that is bad: the politics are only incidental. Still, there are lots of cool things in the movie. Because it is setpiece after setpiece, I really didn't get bored until the last half hour of the movie (and I prefer a movie with this much action to a snorer like The Avengers, where I just kept waiting for a setpiece.) The art direction is Alien-inspired and looks really, really cool. If Amy Adams is miscast as Lois Lane (someone with less "pluck" and more gravitas would have been my choice), it was nice to see Clark and Lois as grown-ups as opposed to the teenagers who played the pair in Bryan Singer's Superman reboot from 2006. And Henry Cavill is just... so... pretty. Even more than he was when he was in his early twenties. I mean, his face is perfect. He's not so much sexy as he is adonic.

Still, the movie is almost not worth watching. And that's Zack Snyder's fault. Because while Snyder knows how to blow things up and create a visually enticing setpiece, he simply has no idea how to have any fun.

Anonymous.

So tonight my friend Julie and I watched Anonymous together. She's in New York and I'm in Florida, but we synchronized our watches so that we could text-message each other through the movie and make the whole thing more bearable. And, I have to say, it worked.

I'm not sure how much of this - if any of it - is funny, but we had a good time. A kind of double live-blog of Roland Emmerich's latest film:

Aaron: The ultimate expressions of humanity in the English language?
Julie: Our shakespeare. Our.
Aaron: This opening is stolen from Branagh's Henry V.
Julie: This art direction is stolen from Man in the Iron Mask circa 1998.
Aaron: Hahahahaha.
Julie: Well, naturally. Shakespeare stole everything, so that is fitting.
Julie: If I was in the audience, I'd be asking for my money back.
Aaron: Miss Jacobi is acting!
Julie: With a capital A.

Aaron: I suppose this is how The Globe burned down...
Aaron: Yep.
Julie: Ahahahahahahahaha.

Julie: We're only 7 minutes in and it already doesn't make sense.
Aaron: And it's jumped times twice.
Julie: I'm not sure if the drinking will help or hinder us.
Aaron: Hinder. Definitely.
Julie: Oh well. Absolutely necessary.

Julie: Is his hair crimped?
Aaron: Haha. I hope so.
Aaron: I love this guy's hair.
Julie: He could be in an 80s hair-band.

Aaron: Everything is brown in this film.
Julie: "Earth tones," A-ron. Earth tones.
Aaron: Sepia, methinks.
Aaron: Oh thank Jesus, some color.
Julie: Haha.


Aaron: Vanessa!!!! Love her.
Julie: Is she a butterfly?
Aaron: A walking Christmas Tree, I believe one historian called her.
Julie: Did men wear blue eyeshadow back in the day?
Aaron: And today.
Julie: True.
Julie: More time changes!
Aaron: What the hell?
Julie: When are we??
Aaron: The 1570s???
Julie: Is this baby Willy?
Aaron: Baby Edward De Vere, naturally.
Julie: Shit. I'm already drunk.
Aaron: Back to 1602?
Aaron: Actually I can't tell when this is supposed to be.
Julie: I have no idea either

Aaron: Cobblers are artists. How dare they! Ask Jimmy Choo.
Julie: HAHAHA!

Aaron: But why does he look so bored?
Julie: Rhys? Because he IS boring?
Aaron: These outdoor shots are terribly fake-looking.
Julie: Yeah, it's pretty terrible
Aaron: I need more rum. What is this scene of villainy in one-dimension.
Aaron: Time shift. Yet again!
Julie: No beauty! No art! Tyrant!
Aaron: Hahaha.
Aaron: This ugly little twerp! The film hates him.

Aaron: This Shakespeare actor is hot.
Aaron: I'm into it.
Julie: That's the rum talking

Aaron: This makeup is good! I think that's David Thewlis under all that old age.
Julie: Again, the rum.
Aaron: Hahaha.
Julie: Do I know him?
Julie: (You're right. IMDb)
Aaron: Lupin.

Aaron: "My poems are my soul"?
Aaron: Such clichés.
Julie: I've stopped listening. Just looking at the pretty boys. Time for more beer.
Aaron: Mozart's Requiem during the wedding?
Aaron: Stolen from Shekhar Kapur's Elizabeth. This movie is all copies of other things.
Julie: Did you expect something else?
Aaron: I expected it to be a little more subtle. But I am a fool. It's Roland Emmerich.
Julie: I mean, the screenwriter wrote Legend of the Guardians. That owl movie.
Aaron: Hahaha.

Aaron: The Shakespearean acting is so bad!
Julie: I like the white sparkly outfit though.
Aaron: Ooo me too. Good call.
Aaron: More fake exterior shots!
Julie: His hair is scaring me.
Aaron: I'm having a feeling. Henry V is good!
Julie: Feelings! Those are not allowed here.
Aaron: i.e. rum.
Julie: HAHA

Aaron: Vidal Sassoon is back.
Julie: Hahahahahahahahahaha
Julie: That crimped hair! It kills me. Actually, it's like tiny spiral curls. I'm so intrigued.
Julie: Uh oh. Rhys is confused/angry?
Aaron: I love it.
Aaron: This is so fucking bad.
Julie: Ooooo angry.
Aaron: "Voice you have no voice."
Aaron: Ben Jonson? Seriously? He's a wonderful writer.

Julie: What is that top?
Aaron: Chanel.
Julie: Tim Burton?
Aaron: Yes. That's perfect. Burton.
Julie: "You're... Writing again!"
Aaron: You're listening again! Haha.
Aaron: "The voices I can't stop them!"
Julie: The voices! They're speaking to him!

Julie: Don't you wish Spielberg's goose would come out right about now? I need some comic relief.
Aaron: It was a duck.
Julie: Goose.

Aaron: Who's this chick?
Julie: Hahaha. I have no idea.
Aaron: Fake exterior shot #465
Julie: Haha. Glad you're keeping count for us.

Julie: Why are we arresting them again?
Aaron: They had sex, I think.

Aaron: Little boy is adorbs.
Julie: He has some nicely wind-swept hair.
Aaron: Indeed.
Aaron: This is way more confusing than Tinker Tailor.
Julie: Yes, but only because it's unintentional. This should not be a difficult story to follow. What was Roland smoking?
Aaron: These exteriors kill me.

Aaron: Who is Vidal Sassoon?
Julie: Hahahahahaha
Aaron: Is that his kid? Or is the other one his kid?
Aaron: Or both?
Julie: I don't know, but Rhys seems to know him
Aaron: They're both his sons, I think.
Julie: Words. Words.
Julie: Bastards? Who is he married to?
Aaron: The sister of the twerp who is now advising QEI.
Julie: OMG. So confused.

Julie: What. Is. She. wearing.
Julie: Have we been in the Rose yet? Or does Roland think the only theater in London was the Globe.

Julie: Ooo that art direction.
Aaron: Fucking fake exteriors.
Aaron: Where's John Fletcher?
Julie: Who?
Aaron: Who!?!?!
Julie: I was being ironic. Calm the fuck down, A-ron. Hahaha.
Aaron: Haha.

Aaron: Love Will's costume!
Aaron: Well QEI's costume is insanely weird.
Julie: Why are we rioting?
Julie: What the hell is going on?
Aaron: Words, Julie. Words.
Julie: Ha.
Aaron: This is such nonsense.
Julie: OMG these deaths are amazing. Play the melodrama, girl!

Julie: That head piece!
Aaron: I liked it.
Julie: Of course you did.
Aaron: I love a headpiece.
Aaron: She's like a 17th century Cher.
Julie: LOL
Julie: Is this exposition?
Aaron: No: act three monologues.
Julie: Emote!
Aaron: Why is he crying?
Aaron: The hunchback, I mean.
Julie: That was his moment! Let him have it!

Julie: Snow!
Julie: Nice fur.
Aaron: The first pretty exterior in the film.
Aaron: And then we're back to fake ones. That lake!
Julie: Truth.
Aaron: Thank god that wife of his explained this plot sequence because I was confused.

Julie: Those are some intense sleeves.
Aaron: They're like a duvet!

Julie: How is that old man still alive?
Aaron: Yeah. Hello continuity.
Aaron: He died!

Julie: Oh dear. That was dramatic.
Aaron: That was good. I liked that bit of writing.
Julie: That is the rum.
Aaron: Is Derek Jacobi gonna come back, too?
Julie: I hope so. Him and Mark Rylance. They'll do an epilogue.
Aaron: Tenors are singing. Should I be having a feeling?
Julie: Of disgust?
Aaron: They made King James I into a big old queen. (At least that's historically accurate)
Julie: Obvi Roland likes his queens.
Julie: Is that Mark?
Aaron: Yes!
Julie: In the white costume we like.
Julie: Yay!
Aaron: Yay!

Immortality?

I got exactly what I expected from Immortals. Well... that might be a little too kind.

Let's do a little math. For me, Immortals breaks down like this:

Immortals > Alexander (what isn't?)

Immortals < The Fall

Immortals > 300

Immortals = Troy

I liked Immortals well enough. It was exciting and for the most part quite enjoyable as a film. Immortals is also über-violent. Like, crazy violent. And I have to say after the milquetoast Rum Diary that I really was pleased to see violence have an actual effect on bodies in space. I find PG-13 violence in movies quite offensive. But Immortals is insanely violent, actually. Bodies are smashed to bits and there were times while watching this film when my friend George and I cringed and crossed our legs and covered our eyes and all the rest of the horrible reactions people tend to have while watching truly grotesque violence on screen.

The most important thing to note about Immortals, if you ask me, is the costumes. I really hope designer Eiko Ishioka (Tarsem's usual designer) gets recognized by the Academy for her stunning work. I also want to note the performance by Luke Evans as Zeus. Evans was in the Musketeers movie earlier this fall, as well, and he is less interesting there, but in Immortals, he is fascinating. His Zeus is a tortured, troubled figure filled with equal parts hope and regret, and Evans manages to convey all of this wearing next to nothing and spouting inane dialogue.

A couple other thoughts. It's easy to object to the use of violence in a film. The standard logic here is that by giving us so much violence to see, we become desensitized to it, and violence seems to mean less to us. That may be true – probably is – but I think the horses have left the barn on this one. So it isn't violence per se to which I object here. What Immortals does that I find really troubling is the way that it justifies violent action by constantly utilizing ideological buzzwords like courage and freedom and honor and glory. For me, the mobilization of these words is much, much worse than representing grotesque violence onscreen. Words like courage and honor work to justify violence by behaving as though murder and rape and torture and brutality are equivalent to courage and honor and freedom and justice. If they are not equivalent (and they are not) Immortals behaves as though violence is the only way to achieve honor and the only method for demonstrating courage. To my mind, this ideological nonsense is infinitely more damaging than showing what happens to the human body when it is doused in alcohol and set on fire or when someone cuts his tongue out with a pair of rusty, ancient scissors.

Also: this movie is not The Fall. It is definitely a Tarsem Singh movie. It's gorgeous and feels like it takes place in the middle of nowhere even though we are constantly being told exactly where we are. But... well it just doesn't have the kind of emotional center that The Fall had. Instead, Immortals has beautiful costumes and gorgeous bodies and lots and lots of blood. I object to none of those things categorically, of course (I appreciate all of them, in fact), but at the center of Immortals there is no compelling relationship or powerful theme. In fact, there is not much at all at the center of Immortals.

Oh My

Has it really been a week since I posted? I must be busy...

But I'm not actually busy. I'm on Spring Break which means I'm trying to be busy but not actually achieving busy-ness. I will post today, I promise. I have two posts sitting in the back of my head just waiting to bring forth fruit (how Biblical I am today!)

Let me say a few things about 300, which I saw last night at midnight on a fluke. The audience for this thing was like nothing I've ever seen before. Nearly everyone there was a nerd. I have been to midnight showings of things before (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, The Phantom Menace--has there been anything else?), but the audience for this comic-book thing was unique. I didn't know men still wore long hair. What is that about? I apologize to anyone who reads this who has long hair and is a man. I don't think it looks horrible or anything, but can you explain why it is that you wear your hair long?
300 is very silly. It knows who its audience is and it plays to that. The men are in speedos the entire time, which I found to be giggle-inducing. They have huge muscular bodies that aren't really my type, so the speedos weren't so much hot as, well, silly. The film looks fabulous, of course, and this is supposed to be a film about style, so I didn't find its style irritating. The film is shot with a washed-out look and the scenery is really the sky. The sky and the earth are the main scenic elements in fact.
Pretty much everyone will see this movie, so there isn't really any reason to keep talking about it, but... the film got irritating in its third act when it became a film where words like "freedom" and "justice" got thrown around. "Freedom"? We're in ancient Sparta. They have slaves. The re-writing of history was inevitable with 300--they have a near-naked Xerxes and hideous creatures of all sorts--but certain things about Sparta seem to be re-written for ulterior purposes. The writer of the film (and the scribe of the graphic novel, no doubt) introduced two father-son narratives into the film. There is all this talk of fighting for sons and loving of sons, etc, etc. It's something that would've been completely unknown in Sparta--half the time they didn't even know who their sons were! And it's not the the father-son thing that bugs me. You know I love a good father-son narrative. But this is a film about war and battle and honor and justice and freedom and—dare I say it—Iraq. So of course the Spartans in the film have to have an American reason to fight—their sons—instead of a Spartan reason to fight.
Lena Headey, who plays the queen, is appropriately gorgeous and severe, and she gets most of the cool ancient lines like "Only Spartan women give birth to real men" and "Come back carrying your shield... or on it." The rest of the performances are overdone. Gerard Butler screams the entirety of the film. David Wenham, never a commanding personality, is his usual beautiful but sleep-inducing self. Rodrigo Santoro, looking like a drag queen (I assume it is intentional--we Westerners do like our Easterners to look feminine) has had his voice dubbed or re-recorded in a lower register or something. I didn't even recognize him.

But this is a film about style. The acting is unimportant. The battle sequences are fun, I guess. And the script is cute. Actually, that's the word that describes this film best for me: cute. I thought 300 was mostly cute. It looks harmless on the surface, too, but I bet once I start deconstructing the film in my head it's Iraq allegory will become clearer and its Orientalist sentiments will reveal themselves. Maybe I'll try not to think about that stuff and go back to thinking about men in speedos.