Brad's Week In Dork! (8/31/14-9/6/14)

I'm pretty much all recovered from my Wisdom Tooth surgery.  A little jaw tension, a slight ache.  Saw the doc on Friday, and he told me I didn't have to worry about the other one until next year...unless infection or pain flares up.  Fingers crossed.  Sooooo - good news!  I guess.  This week was a whole heap of random.  On Sunday & Monday, I was pretty much still feeling the aftershocks from the surgery so I  just hopped from one film to the next on VOD, enjoying life from the couch.  No rhyme or reason, just what looked interesting in the moment.  It did lead me down a rabbit whole of Errrol Morris documentaries that I was not expecting.  Enjoyed all three, and will definitely seek out others.  I dragged myself out of the apartment on Tuesday, for an Alamo 100 screening of Singin' in the Rain & I went back for more with JAWS on Thursday.  As Matt said in his Week in Dork, nothing like seeing a classic on the big screen to make you fully appreciate the craft of storytelling.  Still, the big event of the week was the Baltimore Comic Con.  It might not have the big deal celebrities like San Diego or the endless array of Wizard Worlds, but if you're actually into comics there is no better place to be.  Great way to finish off the week.

Fading Gigolo:  Who doesn't love John Turturro?  From Barton Fink to Transformers, whenever the man is on screen I'm entertained.  His directorial efforts have left me a little cold, but they're always interesting in their subject matter.  Fading Gigolo is no different.  After his psychiatrist says too much, Woody Allen encourages Turturro to whore himself out for a three way.  Business booms from there, and Turturro's florist quickly finds himself knee deep in.....money.  Of course, simple sex is never simple.  The subplot of a jewish widow suffering crippling grief takes over the film, distracting from the cartoonish antics of Sharon Stone & Sofia Vergara's sexual predators.  Solid performances from Turturro, Allen, and Liev Schreiber, but Fading Gigolo is ultimately the kind of film you watch once.

Cuban Fury:  When I see Nick Frost why do I always ask, "Where's Simon Pegg?" but the same is not true when it's just Pegg on screen?  Nick Frost is certainly talented.  The man makes me laugh, but he always seems like half a double act.  Maybe it's simply that Frost is not always part of the cleverest of projects.  Cuban Fury is decent.  The story of a onetime salsa prodigy returning to the sport in an effort to win true love is chuckle-worthy and cute.  It's not ground breaking.  Chris O'Dowd being regulated to office douche bag is certainly disappointing.  Ian McShane as the salsa coach gets some laughs, but the film could have done more with him (a complaint often associated with McShane movies - ALWAYS MORE MCSHANE!!).  You could do worse than Cuban Fury, but it's no Edgar Wright film....a very tough, and probably cruel comparison.  Still.

Rage:  "Who did it?  WHO DID IT!?!!  WHODIDITWHODIDITWHODIDIT WHODIDITGWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  Oh Nicolas Cage, you so crazy.  Except you really aren't these days.  The above quote is a five second scream almost worthy of yesteryear.  Almost.  I'm not going to use this space to continue the narrative of Nic Cage's disappointing direct-to-dvd downfall, but I don't mind lamenting for a bit.  Season of a Witch, I miss you - never mind Con Air, The Rock, and Adaptation.  Rage could have been a kickass revenger in which Cage brutalizes the bastards responsible for his daughter's murder.  Unfortunately, the film is a boring collection of scenes pretending to be hardcore.  Embarrassingly dull.  Can the upcoming Left Behind prove a return to that mega-acting glory?  I'm always the optimist.

The Thin Blue Line:  In 1976, Randall Adams was convicted and sentenced to death for the shooting death of patrolman Robert Wood.  Errol Morris' documentary, through dramatic reenactments and various interviews with the people surrounding the trial, makes a strong, and ultimately convincing case for Adams' innocence.  How did Adams end up behind bars?  Bad timing?  Poor decisions?  The terrifying morality behind the Texas judicial system?  Yeah, that last one.  The Paradise Lost of its day, thanks to The Thin Blue Line Adams was eventually released from prison.  Should be required viewing for all Americans.

Singin' In The Rain:  I've watched the film twice now, and I still agree with my Cinematic Resolution assessment, it's absolutely a "joyous outpouring" of cinema.  Gene Kelly is a tap dancing man's man - something I didn't even know was possible until I saw Singin' In The Rain.  Jean Hagen's blonde dimwit is a tad too obvious at times, and I never quite understood her romantic roadblock.  But, thankfully, the love triangle is not the showpiece, as Singin in the Rain is rather a rollicking tour through Hollywood's early history.  Like The Artist, Gene Kelly is not willing to let modernity roll him over, and thanks to a little nudging from partners Debbie Reynolds & Donald O'Connor, he invents a new style of storytelling.  I'd probably rank Singin' in the Rain as my third favorite musical, right behind The Blues Brothers & West Side Story.  Hard to beat a Mission from God & Shakespeare.

Tabloid:  Another Eroll Morris doc, but maybe not such the essential viewing for the American populace.  Let's see if I can give the content it's proper justice - In 1977, beauty queen Joyce McKinney was arrested in England for kidnapping Mormon Missionary Kirk Anderson & holding him prisoner in a Devon cottage where she chained him to a bed & forced intercourse.  They had been a one-time couple, and McKinney claimed that the Mormon Church had brainwashed her beloved.  Once the tabloid papers got their claws into the story, they uncovered that McKinney was a former S&M model, sometimes prostitute, who often used her sexual wiles to conquer the minds of men.  Or is McKinney a simple victim of love gone sour?  Also, what does this have to do with dog cloning???  It's a damn strange story, and who knows what really went down in '77, but Morris details a fascinating story.  These days McKinney regrets taking part in the documentary, saying that Morris misrepresented her side of the story, but it's hard to argue with the words coming out of her mouth.  Tabloid is bonkers all around.

The Unknown Known:  Who knows why, but for some reason Donald Rumsfeld agreed to be interrogated by Errol Morris.  I certainly see what Morris had to gain, but what did Rumsfeld?  That question is never really answered.  Well, the former Secretary of Defense certainly doesn't take a beating?  He can dish it better than he can take it.  And Morris does not come across as the Liberal Shining Knight.  I'm not a terribly political person.  The game has never interested me - disturbed me, scared me more like it.  The Unknown Known picks over some of the most disturbing history in modern America, filtered through Rumsfeld's participation.  He defends in some cases.  He questions in others.  He sometimes shrugs when the words are simply not there.  How will the Bush Jr administration go down in history's annals?  Time will tell - The Unknown Known is not the revelation some will want.

JAWS:  I love this film.  Sometimes it's hard to keep talking about the films you love.  How many ways can I say that Steven Speilberg's Jaws is one of The Great Films?  This is the second time I've seen the film on the big screen.  It's a whole different experience when Bruce stretches his 25 feet across the entire width of your vision.  It's genuinely AWEsome.  I've seen the film a hundred times, and you'd think there would be nothing new to see.  This go-around, instead of focusing on the genius of Robert Shaw's shark killer, I attached myself to Roy Scheider in a way that's never happened before.  The scene where his son mimics his movements around the dinner table - "Give me a kiss." "Why?" "Cuz I need it."  Just crushing.  I'm an emotional guy, I cry all the time at the movies, but this was the first time I teared up during Jaws.  I cherish the way Chief Brody can never finish a meal, that fear bubbling in his stomach.  And the way Brody pushes through that fear, eventually delivering him to that ship's mast, a rifle in his hand, and a final quip on his lips - "Smile you son of a bitch."  This film spawned forth an infinite spew of knockoffs, but what the wannabes never understood was that Jaws is not about the big beastie.  Jaws is all about character.  How these three very disparate men come together to tackle their own demons.  Brody, the failed New York cop fighting through fear to protect family & home.  Hooper, the rich kid oceanographer making a name for himself through a passion for fish.Quint, the emotionally wrecked sailor, killing sharks as revenge for all those sailors lost at sea.  I love Orca as much as the next guy, but it's just not Jaws.

Wayne's World:  Man, I used to love this movie so much.  I might not have watched it as much as Jaws, but I've seen it a few dozen times or so.  But I have not bothered with Wayne & Garth in several years.  Just one of those movies that floated out to sea.  Friday afternoon, I played a little game of Netflix Roulette & suddenly I was "Party On."  It's a cute film, but it's also completely rooted in my teen years.  I can't disassociate it from my teenager brain, nostalgia lost.  Rob Lowe, there's no better sleaze.

Double Indemnity:  "I'm rotten to the heart."  When most hear Film Noir most think Double Indemnity. With good reason.  It's a hateful bastard of a film.  Fred MacMurray is an insurance investigator who falls for Barbara Stanwyck's Femme Fatale, and agrees to bump off her husband in exchange for sex & money.  The guy's a dope.  The dame's a demon.  They deserve each other.  Billy Wilder is much beloved in Hollywood; he made every kind of movie, but his best were the ugly ones.  Double Indemnity & Ace in the Hole sizzle with mean, cold, rage fueled dialog.  Immoral men and women damning themselves with every word.  I love it.  If I took any issue with Double Indemnity it's that Barbara Stanwyck has never worked for me as a Fatale.  I've never understood her allure, how she pulled MacMurray's dope into her web?  Switch her out with Gloria Graham or Veronica Lake, and I get it, but Stanwyck is an off-putting creature.  The film though, is delightfully nasty.

Baltimore Comic Con:  There were not a lot of new faces in the crowd of Comic Book creators this year.  Sure, they're were some big guns (Greg Capullo, Francesco Francavilla, Eric Powell, Jim Starlin, etc), but they're regulars at this point and there was no need to wait in any lines.  I spent the majority of Saturday snapping photos of cosplayers and diving deep into the dealer's room.  I brought less money this year than I've ever had before, but thanks to $5 Trades, 50% off tables, and dealers willing to haggle, I walked away with more comics than any previous Balticon.  My favorite get was the X-Statix Omnibus which retailed for $125, but I scooped it up for $49.  I also grabbed volume 1 of Matt Fraction's Invincible Iron Man, Superman - Secret Origin, Walt Simonson's Thor, a few Shazam classics, and a treasure edition of Jack Kirby's 2001 A Space Odyssey.  Comics, man.  That's what it's all about.  Time & money deemed only one day for Baltimore this year, but I had as much fun as I've ever had.  Still, it would have been nice to sit in on some panels.  Next year, next year.

--Brad

Brad's Week In Dork! (8/26/12-9/1/12)

My Coen Brothers Marathon started off strong, but once I got my hands on Boardwalk Empire everything ground to a halt.  I took two days to devour that show and it felt like the perfect lead into Miller's Crossing which will start off my next Week In Dork.  Part of me is disappointed that I didn't complete the marathon, but the other part is also excited to have stretched it out over three weeks.  I have no doubt in my mind now that my favorite director in cinema is The Coen Brothers.  Their films are strange cocktails of humor and horror.  I watch something like Fargo and I'm struck by its sad, pathetic characters as well as Marge, the eternal optimist confused by the horrors committed by her misguided neighbors.  And I'm in awe of the laughs it steals from shower curtains and woodchippers.  Wonderful, demented stuff.

MOVIES OF THE WEEK!

Masters of the Universe:  Okay, I know what you're thinking--this is a crap film that totally gets the He-Man mythos wrong...but who cares about the He-Man mythos? Not me. Just sit back and enjoy the absolute sillyness. Oscar nominee Frank Langella as Skeletor! The Dolph as He-Man! Has there ever been a better match up?!?!?! And Courteney Cox at her horrible best! Sure, the kid in me is still disappointed that Billy Barty's Gwildor is just a lameass version of Orko (shut up haters!) and Eternia gets the shaft for cheapie 1980s backlots, but once you embrace the ridiculousness, Masters of the Universe is a craptastic wannabe franchise gem.

O Brothers, Where Art Thou?:  "It's a fool who looks for logic in the chambers of his own heart." In this Homeric odyssey, George Clooney's Dapper Dan motormouth leads a couple of chain gang dolts across the South, defending his honor as a husband against seductress sirens, a frog crushing Cyclops, the Ku Klux Klan, and a mirror eyed Devil. Steeped in the very best of the Coen Brothers' visual style (& DP partner Roger Deakins), O Brother Where Art Thou is a musical epic that firmly established Clooney as a bonafide star.

Terror Is A Man:  I don't know if terror is a man or a cat man, but I do know that this movie is boooooooring. A sorry adaptation of The Island of Dr. Moreau, the only thing really noteworthy about this flick is its attempt at William Castle-like showmanship with its turnaway bell & raw surgical meat splicing...and according to the excellent documentary Machete Maidens Unleashed, Terror is a Man was the birth of the Philippines exploitation movement. Cool. Sure. But such notes not a good movie make, and when all is said and done this is just a snoozefest with a couple of bright Cat Mummy moments.

The Big Lebowski:  "Yer not dealing with morons here." Yep. I'm sure of it. The Big Lebowski is the perfect companion film to The Coen's A Serious Man. Bot films feature a frustrated lead battling the stupidity of outside forces but where Michael Stuhlbarg's physics professor succumbs to their horrors, The Dude abides cuz he simply understands that sometimes you eat the bear and sometimes the bear eats you. Strikes and gutters, man. Jeff Bridges's The Dude is the Great American Protagonist who finds himself stuck in the mirk of noir all on account of a rug. Millionaires, Bunnies, Porno Kingpins - none were prepared for his impenetrable zen cool.

Fargo:  At once hilarious and depressing, Fargo is the movie that introduced me to the demented genius of the Coen Brothers as well as a lot of other film geeks out there. William H Macy, at his most utterly pathetic, hires crooks Steve Buscemi (he's funny lookin' in a general sorta way) and Peter Stormare ("Pancakes House") to kidnap his wife so he can pay off some serious debts with his father-in-law's ransom money. Blood spills rather quickly and Frances McDormand's pregnant midwestern police chief connects the rather obvious dots. Absolutely brilliant performances from all the players, and I would argue that all four have yet to top the work done in Fargo (well, Buscemi might have peaked on Boardwalk Empire but that could also be my HBO high talking). And, again, you can't celebrate the Coens without acknowledge the magnificence of cinematographer Roger Deakins and composer Carter Burwell - they paint this film in sadness.

The Hudsucker Proxy:  "But I got big ideas." Whether we knew it or not, The Coen's had been building towards this It's A Wonderful Life screwball comedy in each of their previous four films. It just took their partnership with Crimewave's Sam Raimi to push them over the edge of nudge-nudge and into the WINK-WINK. And for the most part it works, but for me their outside meta eye keeps the emotion distant and I never quite connect with either the success or the worries of Tim Robbins' bumbling Hudsucker president. The film never crests beyond its homage, it never transforms into A Coen Brothers Film. The Hudsucker Proxy is a lot like the mimicry of Intolerable Cruelty: I recognize the cleverness and the craft on display and acknowledge it with a smile, but the film never excites me the way a Big Lebowski or even Burn After Reading does. Still, damn sharp writing.

Barton Fink:  "LOOK UPON ME! I'LL SHOW YOU THE LIFE OF THE MIND!!!!!" Probably the most perfect Coen Brothers film. No, not my favorite. But if you want to experience the purest notion of their beautifully odd imagination than look no further. John Turturro is a Broadway darling playwright who ventures into the Hell that is Hollywood in search of meaning and money. There he finds John Mahoney's drunk demon writer, John Goodman's fiery insurance salesman, and a nightmare motel room dripping wet potent wallpaper. And it all has something to do with the beach and a hefty brown box. Madness. By the climax you'll be scratching your head, trolling the internet for answers, and ultimately confused for life. Not only will you not forget Barton Fink, you'll think of it often. A great film to revisit.  But maybe not if you're a wannabe writer.  Not VF.

TV OF THE WEEK!

Boardwalk Empire Season 2:  Man.  The first season was rough.  It was good.  But brutal.  And that was nothing.  The second season of HBO's prohibition gangster drama strips away as much of the good and cheery qualities of its characters as possible.  Sure, some of these guys are charismatic.  Steve Buscemi can make anyone lovable, but his puppet master Nucky Thompson is a duplicitous asshole and by the final episode you'll see him for the true scum that he is.  And love it.  These are James Ellroy-like monster protagonists.  Michael Shannon's G-Men descends deeper into his own personal hell and I'm not sure where they can take the character in the third season.  Frankly, I have no idea where any of these plot lines are going to end up.  Season 2's climax felt like a series climax.  It's over. But, nope, we got more horror coming.

COMICS OF THE WEEK!

Rasl - Books 1 & 2:  I've been avoiding this book for a couple of years now.  Jeff Smith's Bone is one of the greatest comic book series ever written.  It's an epic that mixes Lord of the Rings style fantasy with Walt Disney sensibilities.  And it's absolutely beautiful.  So when I heard that Smith's next saga was going to be an adult sci-fi adventure involving dimension hopping, art theft, lizard men, and Native American folklore I was more than a bit skeptical.  Not to mention the fact that it has taken Smith two years to produce 15 issues and this book probably won't be completed until 2025.  And this is still just a taste of the series and Smith's really the only person who knows where this story is going, but I'm definitely along for the ride.  I love the folklore/science mix, and the callbacks to Tesla, Einstein, WWI, & WWII is just historical gravy that I love to sop.  And Smith is an amazing cartoonist and no one does black & white like him.

The Sixth Gun #24:  All right, I'm all caught up on singles!  Becky & Drake make their way to Fort Treadwell but run across a nasty blizzard and giant Winter Wolves.  Just when you think The Sixth Gun can't get any weirder-gulp-Game of Thrones ain't got nothing on these beasties.  Plus, General Hume's zombie corpse screams maggots and threats of his family line.  Just a fun really weird western.

BPRD Hell on Earth -The Return of the Master #1:  A mysterious dark figure arrives in Scotland.  Fennix joins with the BPRD in Colorodo.  The Zinco Corporation prepares for the next wave of Hell on Earth terror.  And the Russian Director Nichayko continues to taunt the bottled vampire girl in his office.  It's all set up as Mike Mignola & John Arcudi build to the 100th issue in the series; there appears to be no hope for the world and I seriously appreciate how unrelenting this book has become.

Winter Soldier #9:  Ed Brubaker has announced his exit from this book and the Marvel Universe in general, and he can't leave fast enough as far as I'm concerned.  I love the man.  His Fatale is still the best damn book on the stands.  But he's lost his feeling for the super hero books and reading Winter Soldier is sad and painful.  Brubaker's Cap was once a glorious thing but reading it now is depressing.  It's not awful.  But it's also just not very good.  I've been reading his arc for years and I'm going to see it through but once he's off so am I.

DORK FIELD TRIP OF THE WEEK!

Patton Oswalt at the Arlington Cinema 'n' Drafthouse:  On Saturday night The Wife, our friend Lindsey, and myself drove out to Arlington to see Oswalt on stage at the Cinema 'n' Drafhouse.  This was my first time at this venue and it did not disappoint.  Definitely dug the rolling cushion chairs, the John Wayne BBQ burgers, and the general do-it-yourself atmosphere.  We weren't in the front row, but we had some pretty good seats off to the side with a great line on Patton.  He started his bit off with some ok "I Don't Want To Be Morbidly Obese" jokes but quickly segued into that geek humor we've all come to crave.  But my favorite moment of the show was when he did the crowd work.  It's so cool to see him pull conversation from the audience and incorporate it into his bit.  And the fans eat it up, especially all the local boy flavor Oswalt peppered into his comedy.  Every time he mentioned Sterling or Fuck Loudon County Snow Days the crowd hollered with glee.  Me included.

--Brad