ReelThoughts

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July 1, 2005 (Friday):

The Halftime Top 10 View

The "accepted" time of the year for Top 10 lists is the end of December, but the half-way mark is as good a point as any to give a snapshot of where things stand with most of the summer's big movies already on screens. As I list my mid-year Top 10, keep a couple of things in mind: (1) I didn't give this as much thought as I do my December 31 list, (2) the order of "surviving" titles could shuffle between now and the end of the year as I re-see and digest them, and (3) only the first three titles on the list are virtual locks to reach the end-of-the-year Top 10. A good fall/winter season of movies will wipe the other seven out.

#1: 3-Iron - Unquestionably the most haunting movie thus far, 3-Iron also offers the most food for thought. I had to see it a second time to refine my opinion of what happens during the final 30 minutes. A beautiful and compelling film, this is the best picture I have seen during 2005's first six months. However, it will be disappointing if it ends up on top in December, since it would have placed around #6 on the 2004 list.

#2: Downfall - A frightening portait of Hitler's final days, this movie offers the most striking screen portrait of the genocidal dictator to date (played by Bruno Ganz). Although this is at times almost unbearable to watch, it's movie-making at its finest.

#3: Sin City - The most visually arresting movie to date, Sin City represents tremendous adult fun. It's smart, fast-paced, and always a treat for the eye.

#4: Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith - George Lucas didn't save the best for last, but the final piece in his space opera puzzle comes closer to the level of the original trilogy's opening chapters than anything since. Operatically tragic, this movie will send most Star Wars fans home to the DVD player and A New Hope. Those who take jabs at the film are probably looking for something to criticize.

#5: Mad Hot Ballroom - Who would have thought that a simple documentary about New York elementary school students learning ballroom dancing could be so charming and irresistable? There's a lot more here than meets the eye, and this is a much better film than the 2005 Oscar winner, Born into Brothels.

#6: Batman Begins - The best of the Batman movies, and trailing only Superman and The Incredibles for the title of "Best Superhero Feature." Can't wait to see more of Christian Bale as the Caped Crusader.

#7: Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room - This year's most terrifying horror film is not only a true story, but a documentary. This is why people don't trust big businesses.

#8: My Summer of Love - A startling examination of love, sex, friendship, co-dependency, and religion. The pacing is a little off, but that's more than made up for by a trio of top-notch performances and the atmosphere, which the audience soaks up. Plus, the film offers a surprise or two, although the plot twists are gradually revealed rather than sprung upon us.

#9: The Jacket - This vanished without a trace after spending a week in theaters. The Jacket is one of the year's most intriguing sci-fi thrillers. As time travel stories go, this one is handled well, never getting bogged down in details while simply allowing the story to unspool across several time lines. It reminds me of The Butterfly Effect, and received about the same lamentable response at the box office.

#10: Crash - I changed my mind big-time on this after seeing it a second time. A forceful statement about the state of race relations in America today, Crash offers a view that is simultaneously hopeful and depressing. My main complaint is no longer the coincidences, but the fact that the movie isn't at least 30 minutes longer. These characters deserve more screen time.

July 3, 2005 (Sunday):

But First a Word from Our Sponsor...

Like a dog to its vomit, I keep coming back to rants about the same pet peeves. Maybe it's because I spend so little time at general admission multiplex movies, but it's tough to surpress a wince of outrage every time a commercial appears on screen. I haven't yet been numbed into submission.

Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad if the ads didn't look like crap. These are clearly made-for-TV spots that have been blown up to a size at which they were never intended to be shown. It's bad enough to be part of a captive audience for this sort of hucksterism, but even worse when it's hard to figure out what's being hawked because the visual quality is so poor.

The final tally of material before War of the Worlds: five commercials and four previews. The movie started about 10 minutes late, which I suppose is good. I routinely arrive 15 minutes late for showings at another theater, and I don't think I have ever missed a second of the actual movie.

There is one thing to consider, though. Adult admission at the theater I attended last Wednesday is $5.50. All things considered, that's pretty cheap for a first-run movie in an auditorium that's relatively modern (decent sight lines, stadium seating, comfortable seats, few noticeable projection problems). One can almost justify the inclusion of several ads if it's a means of keeping ticket prices down. Personally, I would be willing to pay a $1 or $2 surcharge to keep the commercials at bay.

But there are plenty of theaters that charge $9 or $10 for an adult admission and still have commercials. Those are top-of-the-line prices for a less-than-ideal movie experience. I believe that price should be related to quality. If I go to a theater and spend $10 to see a movie, I expect to be getting something clearly better than what I get at my $5.50 local multiplex. More than likely, however, I'm getting something worse.

I have heard exhibitors argue that they show commericals as a way to avoid raising ticket prices. I can believe that of the $5.50 theater, but it sounds like a lie when voiced by AMC, which consistently has the highest prices on the block. But all of this is belied by the situation at the small Ritz chain (three venues in Philadelphia and one in Voorhees, NJ), which charges $9 for night adult admissions ($6.75 for matinees) and has no commercials. Not one. I spoke to a Ritz manager about this and his response was straightforward: "We don't want or need them. Sure, they would make some extra money, but why alienate customers? Even if it wasn't a matter of protecting the integrity of the movie-going experience and maintaining our reputation, the loss in revenue from losing customers would probably exceed what we would get paid to show [commercials]."

Sounds sensible to me. I wonder if and when other theater managers are going to understand this. Or if they won't care until chains start going under because no one's going to the movies any more...

July 5, 2005 (Tuesday):

Format War

I remember the last big format war: Beta versus VHS. It's the thing that kept my parents from buying a VCR until the path forward was clear. It kept the video recording industry from exploding until 1985, when VCRs could have become big three or four years earlier. But who was going to spend $400 on a machine that could become almost instantly obsolete if its format lost the war? (A friend's father bought a Betamax machine in 1983, gambling that Beta, as the superior video format, would emerge victorious. By 1987, his player was scrap and he had to purchase a VHS recorder.)

The electronics industry has not learned its lesson. Or maybe those who remember the mid-'80s are no longer working in the industry. But it appears we're about to go through the same thing with high def DVDs. As Yogi Berra is often quoted as saying, "It's déjà vu all over again."

For those who haven't been keeping up, here are some of the basics. There are two incompatible formats being developed for high def DVD. The first type is called Blu-ray, and has the support of most of the major electronics corporations, including heavyweights Sony, Panasonic, Philips, JVC, and Sharp. The second camp, wedded to something named (appropriately enough) HD-DVD, includes Toshiba, NEC, and Sanyo. Studios have also divided down the middle, with Disney, Columbia/TriStar, Fox, and MGM aligning behind BR; and Paramount, Warner Brothers, New Line/HBO, and Universal siding with HD-DVD. On the computer front, Dell and HP are for BR; Microsoft has tentatively fallen on the HD-DVD side. (Although no one doubts that Bill Gates, who loves to be on the winning side, will jump ship if he becomes convinced he's backing the wrong format.)

Technically, BR is superior, offering 50 GB of storage on a double layer disc. HD-DVD offers only 30 GB, although there has been talk of using a triple layer disc, which would boost the storage up to 45 GB (but introduce potential problems). From a cost perspective, the word is that HD-DVDs will likely be slightly cheaper (probably on the order of a couple of dollars per disc), since the current DVD manufacturing equipment can eaily be converted to make HD-DVDs. Blu-ray requires a complete overhaul in the manufacturing process.

HD-DVD plans to have players on store shelves before Christmas, and to begin shipping titles in the November/December time frame. Initial offerings will include the likes of Braveheart, Forrest Gump, The Polar Express, Batman Begins, Apollo 13, the three Harry Potters, the LOTR trilogy, and one of the Star Trek movies.

Plans for the BR deployment are more nebulous, with the "most likely" date being 1Q06, but delays until next spring are possible. No titles have officially been released, but you can bet that the six Star Wars movies will feature prominently in the catalog. (Rumors have it that Fox is lobbying George Lucas to make the "un-enhanced" versions of the original trilogy available as extras on the BR discs as a marketing ploy.) The ace up BR's sleeve is that Sony's Playstation 3 uses BR, and gaming units currently make up a large portion of DVD players bought and sold. So even if customers are undecided on a format for their high def DVDs, they may end up with BR by default because they want a Playstation 3.

The cons are obvious. Until there is a unified standard, if you want all of the titles, you'll have to buy two players - one HD-DVD and one BR. Until a winner emerges, there will not be mass acceptance of high def DVD. Everyone will be content to wait (as they did with Beta/VHS), relying on their standard DVDs to keep their movie collection up-to-date. (By the way, both HD-DVD and BR are backwards-compatible, meaning that they will play all standard DVDs.) And, once there is only one left standing, those who bought titles in the losing format will have to re-buy them.

There are some pros, although they are outweighed by the negatives. Nevertheless, the initial competition and need for an edge will result in underpriced machines and titles (at least initially). Had there been a unified format, the players likely would have started around $1000. As a result of a war, they'll probably be closer to half that. And it's unlikely that high def movies will sell for more than standard DVDs. There will be massive pressure from both the Sony camp and the Toshiba camp to get consumers to commit.

A format war could end quickly or it could go on for a long time. The marketplace will make the determination. Several summits have been held attempting to reach a compromise, but cooler heads have not prevailed (at least not yet). I'm undecided how I'm going to proceed. Likely, after a short period of fence-sitting, I'll take the plunge and hedge my bets. Or maybe someone will make a dual-format player - one that will accept both BR and HD-DVD. (It will likely be damn expensive, though.)

Do I have a gut feeling which format will win? Yes, although even the most knowledgable pundits admit it's too close to call. But I think BR will prevail. Despite having Microsoft as a backer and getting the early jump, HD-DVD's technical limitations will be its partial undoing. And with so many electronics corporations backing BR, it's hard to believe Toshiba is going to prevail. But the PS3 will seal the deal. It's on the horizon and greatly coveted by gamers, and it will make BR widely available. Even an HD-DVD X-Box 2 won't be able to trump this.

Considering how tightly contested this battle is, however, I reserve the right to change my opinion in six months.

July 8, 2005 (Friday):

Censorship by Any Other Name...

For those of us who write movie reviews, there's a phrase we all know: "review embargo." In layman's terms, this means that reviews are not supposed to appear on a website until the day the movie opens. Studios like to employ embargoes because it limits negative reviews from circulating before the movie has been released. The punishment for breaking an embago can range from a slap on the wrist to being banned from future screening's of a studio's films.

Studios will often turn a blind eye when a critic breaks an embargo with a positive review. Write something glowing about a film, and the studio wants it out there - the earlier, the better. Write something negative, and there will be a nasty-gram sitting in the e-mail in-box.

To me, embargoes are too much like censorship - a studio trying to control information flow. Their argument - and there is some validity to it, is that they have the right to control who sees a review before its release date, and if you don't want to play the game, you have to wait until it opens. Still... information flow control, allowing the good out but not the bad - doesn't sound like freedom of the press, does it?

When I first started writing reviews on-line, there was no such thing as an "embargo." There wasn't a need. Reviewers at that time wrote for dailies, weeklies, or monthlies. They saw a movie, wrote the review, and submitted it to their editor. It was published when it would garner the most attention. Enter the Internet. On-line critics like me would see a movie, write the review, and post it - all within 24 hours, sometimes weeks before a movie was in theaters. As the number of on-liners expanded, the studios went into damage control mode. The embargo was born.

My policy is to tread carefully around embargoes. I am bothered by the concept for two reasons. The first is philosophical. I don't like information flow control. It may not technically be censorship, but a skunk by any other name would smell as rank. [Note: this argument refers to completed versions of films, not pre-release versions. It's unfair to write a review of something that isn't in its final form.] The second reason is practical. "Early" reviews generate more traffic. If I was getting paid by the hit, waiting to post a review until the day of release could cost me valuable revenue.

Part of my dislike comes from having restrictions slapped on me after I had operated for years in total freedom. Embargoes are stifling. Sometimes I play by the rules - if a publicist specifically asks me to hold a review, I will do so out of professional curtesy. Otherwise, I use my own judgment about when to post it. If it's a postive review for a company that has a lenient attitude toward embargos, it goes up immediately. If it's a negative review for a company that's a stickler, it goes up close to (or on) the day of release. Everything else is in between. So, when I say that my review of Wedding Crashers won't be available until 7/13 even though I have already written it, that makes a loud statement about what I think of the movie - and how the studio might react if the review went up earlier.

I have been banned before (although never for breaking embargoes), and it may happen again. It's an annoyance, but it sometimes has to be endured. I'm not brash enough to flagrantly disregard all embargoes. My aim is not to generate as much ill-will within the studios as possible. But there are gray areas to be exploited. So I play the game, but using my interpretation the rules.

So the next time a review is "late," you know what's going on. Either that, or I missed the screening and had to see it on my own. That happens, too.

July 9, 2005 (Saturday):

Guilty Pleasures Part II

If you conduct an on-line search for one particular word, you will get an amazing array of responses. It's the "Orginal Hypertex Project." It's a language and translation wizard. It's a swingers club in Manchester. It's an undersea adventure company. It's Charles Foster Kane's fortress. It's Kubla Khan's pleasure dome. And it's a 1980 film starring Olivia Newton-John and Gene Kelly. For the purposes of this column, it's to the last one that I refer. The word is "Xanadu."

"Cheesy" doesn't even begin to describe this motion picture, which was once voted in some poll as the worst musical of all time. (Obvious hyperbole - the participants couldn't have seen Zero Patience.) To say that the movie has not aged well is to understate matters. It is marooned in the 1970s. Even when it was released in 1980, it seemed outdated. Yet that's part of its perverse charm.

Xanadu cannot be watched with anything resembling a serious mindset. Enjoy it for its garishness. Enjoy it for its silliness. Enjoy it for the soundtrack (the product of John Farrar and ELO). But, most of all, enjoy it for Olivia Newton-John. She may not be the greatest actress of her generation, but she's gorgeous, and she has a great singing voice. Watching her in this, her second best-known role (after Grease), it's almost possible to believe that she is a Muse sent by Zeus.

Not to forget Gene Kelly... Some have lamented that this represents Kelly's farewell to feature films. (After Xanadu, he appeared in only a couple of TV mini-series.) But the venerable song-and-dance man "got" the movie. It was a throwback to his bread-and-butter - an attempt to re-create '50s musicals in the early '80s (a marriage between disco and retro). Not a good one, to be sure, but it gave Kelly an opportunity to do what he was best at, even at age 68. It always brings a smile to my face to see him show a few moves, even amidst all the corniness.

I have heard that Xanadu is popular in the gay culture, which doesn't surprise me. The film has the kind of flair that would make it a hit among those who delight in kitsch. It also appeals to those with a soft spot for really bad movies. The acting (especially by Andy Gibb-lookalike Michael Beck) is awful, the storyline is too moronic to be called trite, and the set decorations appear to have been designed by someone who was experiencing and LSD flashback. Yet, there's fun to be had for anyone who likes the music (which I do). This is, after all, a musical, and the stench of ripe cheese can be set aside if it offers pleasure to the palate.

Xanadu bombed at the box office - deservedly and expectedly so. But the soundtrack soared. Of its ten tracks, two ("Magic" and "Xanadu") were hits. Two more ("Suddenly" and "Don't Walk Away") got significant airplay. In my experience, it's almost unheard of for a movie soundtrack to dominate radio airwaves long after the film has been buried.

Xanadu was not embraced until long after its initial disgrace, although no one has ever given it credit as being more than it is. As with King Kong, I would not label this as a "good" movie, but I own the DVD and enjoy watching it. As guilty pleasures go, this is among the guiltiest. Until now, I was a closet Xanadu aficionado, but now that it's out in the open, I have no choice but to own up to it. But I have no plans to write a formal review. On my review scale, it would get a recommendation - three stars out of four - and I can't quite bring myself to do that. My credibilty, such as it is, would be seriously damaged.

July 10, 2005 (Sunday):

Postscript for The Price of the Crown

Spoilers follow...

This may be written for only a couple of hundred people, but for those of you who hung in there for all 36 days (actually 35, since I posted the final two chapters at the same time), here are some of my thoughts on the book I wrote 15 years ago.

What works? The magic system, without question. In fact, it is unique enough that I am cannibalizing it for my next fantasy series. One is allowed to copy off oneself. The politics, especially in the early chapters. Sor's first marriage - he is allowed to wed his true love, even if the marriage is doomed (and I always appreciated Joi as a character, even if she was underused). Chapter 24 (the double murder). I think it's haunting and brutally shocking. Sor's "final solution" and his confrontation with Wil - that they don't engage in the expected pyrotechnic battle. Some will feel cheated by this, no doubt, but I think it works. And I like the bitterseet nature of the finale - Sor (my favorite character) steeped in melancholy while Wil gets the girl and the happy ending.

What doesn't work? Some of the romantic scenes are too cute. Keeping Sor out of sight for six chapters when I introduce Wil. Some of the dialogue is cheesy. At times, Wil's motivations seem strained. Section 5 (Loss of Focus) is a mess. The idea was to develop a murder mystery within the main story, but, in retrospect, it didn't work. I don't dislike everything that goes on during those six chapters, but the red herrings are annoying.

What changed? There were two significant alterations from how things were initially sketched out. Originally, only Sye was supposed to die at the end of Chapter 24. Joi would regain her health and stand by her man during his investigation into his mother's death. Sor would never have married Lis. Joi would have died after being shot by an arrow during Vas' execution, and this would have triggered Sor's genocidal attack on the nobles. After I decided to kill Joi at the end of Chapter 24 to allow the Sor/Lis marriage and to "spice up" the murder mystery, I had to give Joi's "part" to Gea. At no time, however, did I consider having Joi live to the last page.

Initially, Sor was going to lose his sanity during the last chapter. After his confrontation with Wil, he would have returned to the palace and fallen into a catatonic state. His "half" of Chapter 36 would have represented his deranged point-of-view - an imaginary world he had created living side-by-side with his beloved queen. Ultimately, though, it didn't work. (I actually wrote it this way and was so dissatisfied that I deleted the entire section.) Plus, it compromised a key element of the second book, which I was beginning to plan out as I wrote the concluding chapters of the first one.

If I decided to re-work it? Sections 1 through 4 wouldn't change much, although Joi's role would be expanded. I would have liked her death to have had more impact. I felt it, because I'm the writer, but I'm not sure the readers know her well enough. And Gea would have an expanded role earlier, as Joi's confidant. Section 5 would be changed around significantly. It would be about Sor's investigation into the murder and his recognition of Vas' betrayal, but I wouldn't try to hide the truth from the reader. I would also eliminate Wil's attack at Bur's mansion, because it's extraneous. In fact, I would probably combine Sections 5 and 6 into one, because they're a little long winded.

If you liked Sor, the ending is downbeat, and that's part of why I wrote a sequel. I thought he deserved another look, albeit later in life. Whether or not I post that book will depend on whether I get enough e-mails requesting it. At this point, I don't have a good sense whether there's a desire to see more. So feel free to e-mail me with your opinions - good, bad, or indifferent. A line or two is just as good as several paragraphs. (Thanks to those of you - seven thus far - who have already done so.) And be sure to let me know whether you want to see The Price of Magic in August.

July 14, 2005 (Thursday):

Ramdom Mid-July Musings

As a critic, sometimes I think it's good idea to take off the month of August. The dog days, indeed. What can one say when the biggest cinematic event of the month is the release of The Dukes of Hazzard? Hollywood's cannibalization of their small-screen past has become sickening. I am now awaiting movie versions of soap operas.

The Price of Magic will be posted beginning on August 1 and concluding on August 31. It's 34 chapters, so that means doubling up on three days (likely August 1, 2, and 31). Thanks to those who sent e-mails about The Price of the Crown. If I didn't reply, don't take it personally. I read every one of them, and took all of the contstrutive criticism in the vein it was intended. More on The Price of Magic in an introduction I will post here on either July 31 or August 1. Overall, I think the story is weaker, but the conclusion is stronger.

Another reason to hate the PG-13 rating... Published reports say that Scarlett Johansson wanted to be topless during her sex scene in The Island. (She didn't like the bra she had been given.) Director Michael Bay nixed the idea because he didn't want to run afoul of the MPAA. What he should have done is obvious: film the scene with Johansson topless, then carefully edit out any nude "peeks" in the cutting room, preserving the PG-13 rating. The unedited version could have been released on an unrated DVD extended edition. More money all around. Surprisingly, greed didn't win out on this one.

Speaking of salacious topics, I received an e-mail from someone with a mild complaint that the sex scenes in The Price of the Crown were too explicit. This surprised me, since they were intended to be tame. I am capable of writing a graphic sex scene, and it isn't anything like what appears in that book. Perhaps he was expecting the coyness of David Eddings, whose approach to romance is cute the first time or two, then grows tiresome (like much of Eddings).

I can't figure out the popularity of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. I disliked the film as a child and am no more fond of it now that I'm an adult. I think the appeal must have something with the idea of all that candy. But the movie itself isn't good (except as a trigger for nostalgia), especially when compared with the new, more faithful version. Give me cheesy stuff like King Kong and Xanadu any day.

The drop-off in ReelThoughts posts is a direct result of added outdoor work (mowing the lawn, whacking weeds, trimming shrubs, and vacuuming the pool bottom) and spending more hours working on my day job. This kind of thing is cyclical, so there will be peaks and valleys in ReelThoughts frequency, but it will not go back into hibernation again.

I'm wondering if there's going to be a record attendance at this year's Toronto Film Festival. I typically make my plane and hotel reservations in early July. This year, the hotel I have stayed in for the last seven years was booked. So I ended up reserving a room at a place that's a lot closer to the theaters, but also about $50 more per night. I can afford it, but I was surprised to discover that it's already becoming difficult to find a room. (The first three hotels I tried were booked solid for the entire week.)

Speaking of hotels, I marvel at how a simple change can make life easier. When I first started covering film festivals (1997), it was a pain in the neck to get anything posted. It required that I temporarily subscribe to a dial-up service with a local number in Ontario (usually Compuserve), then set everything up before leaving. Half the time, I had a problem upon arrival, and the transfer rate usually sucked. These days, most hotels have broadband available, which makes things quicker and more convenient. Any time I plan to bring my laptop, I make sure beforehand that I'm staying someplace that can offer this high-speed service. (The only recent hotel I stayed in that didn't offer broadband was in Bermuda, but I didn't bring a computer with me on my honeymoon.)

Tomorrow, I'll have something to write about the sudden increase in the popularity of theatrical documentaries.

July 15, 2005 (Friday):

Rise of the Docs

If you are a documentary lover, this is as close to heaven as it gets this side of a film festival. A few years ago, documentaries were few and far between. Even in art house theaters, only the occasional high profile effort like Hoop Dreams or Roger and Me would stay around for more than a week. In the last year or two, however, screens (especially in art houses) have become glutted by this form of motion picture. It probably started with Michael Moore's overhyped and not-all-that-good Fahrenheit 9/11 (which many, including me, would argue is more propeganda than documentary), but it didn't stop there. In 2004 and 2005 combined, more than a dozen high-profile documentaries will reach movie theaters, and some will even attain the lofty goal of playing in multiplexes. They include: Touching the Void, Supersize Me, Born into Brothels, Mad Hot Ballroom, Deep Blue, Enron, Inside Deep Throat, March of the Penguins, Murderball, My Date with Drew, and Grizzly Man.

Why the suddden influx of documentaries? Some might attribute it to the lack of non-fiction ideas, but that's too facile an answer. Sure, Hollywood is creatively bankrupt, but there are plenty of interesting and edgy motion pictures on the fringe. My personal belief is that there's a link to the so-called "Reality TV" genre. People are infatuated with watching non-scriped television. And documentaries, for the most part, are the cinematic equivalent.

Comparisons aren't as farfetched as they may seem. Movies like Supersize Me and My Date with Drew appeal to a "hip" kind of viewer - one who is more interested in being teased than educated. Enron offers a 60 Minutes-like investigation into corporate corruption. Mad Hot Ballroom and Murderball are sports (of sorts). And March of the Penguins and Deep Blue take the Discovery Channel/National Geographic route.

For the most part, theatrical documentaries are put together with greater care than their TV counterparts, but they may not have higher production values. An episode of The Amazing Race costs more than all of Born into Brothels. With documentaries, visuals are often beside the point (although not in the case of "nature" films). But, as with all movies - fiction or non-fiction - the material has to be involving.

The biggest problem for theaters running documentaries used to be how to get movie-goers into the seats. Mainstream viewers had two taboo words: "subtitles" and "documentary." Not too long ago, only adventurous film-lovers would dare either. Now, thanks at least in part to the popularity of television's sleaziest flavor of programming, people are no longer intimidated by the concept of a "reality motion picture."

July 16, 2005 (Saturday):

Harry Potter and the Chocolate Factory

When Warner Brothers determined the opening date of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, they carefully examined the release schedule and decided this was the best weekend to put it into theaters. The only other "major" is the R-rated Wedding Crashers, and that's aimed at a less family-friendly audience. With Fantastic Four fading in the rear-view mirror and The Bad News Bears yet to come, this is supposed to be Charlie's weekend. Or is it? Because, for all of their planning, the studio heads at Warner Brother's forgot about Harry Potter.

This could be the first time ever that the release of a book will have a major impact on the box office. Between 12:01 Saturday morning and 11:59 Saturday night, millions of copies will have been sold. My local Barnes & Noble handled hundreds of pre-orders, with about 400 people showing at midnight to pick up their copies. In terms of anticipated events for pre-teens and teenagers, the arrival of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is right up there with the opening of Revenge of the Sith.

Admittedly, not everyone who buys the book today will stay home all weekend and read. But a sizeable percentage will. If one million kids decline Charlie and Johnny in favor of Harry, that would mean a $7 million fall-off in overall box office. That's big enough to be noticed. In the long run, maybe Tim Burton's dark candyland tale won't be impacted. Perhaps the kids will see it next weekend, or wait until it's out on DVD. But it's not hard to imagine that Charlie's numbers will be deflated. I wonder if the Weekend Warrior took that into consideration when he made his predictions. (The other half of Charlie's audience - those who are prodded by Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory-driven nostalgia - will not be impacted.)

For me, the book to buy in 2005 is P.D. James' The Lighthouse, which is due out in November. James is a best-selling author, but I doubt I'll be able to loiter outside of a bookstore until 12:01 to nab an early copy. It's probably a good thing that I can't, though, since I wouldn't get any sleep that night. If my current age was 12, I would have been at that Barnes & Noble at midnight last night, and would probably still be reading this morning. (My perusal of Mr. Potter's adventures took me through book three. For the rest, I'll wait for the movies.)

The most refreshing thing about the success of the Harry Potter series is the way it has brought the joy of reading into the lives of this planet's younger citizens. Pop culture today values flash, bang, and pizzaz - loud music, Internet chat rooms, and video games. But, because of J.K. Rowling's magical cast, we can be assured that the art of reading - of curling up in a chair with a book and getting lost in another world for a few hours - is not lost. So here's to Harry Potter, and if Tim Burton and Johnny Depp have to take it on the chin, so be it.

July 25, 2005 (Monday):

The Two R's

There's an example of the MPAA's unfairness and irrationality on display in theaters for everyone to see. If you believe that using the ratings is a reasonable way to determine the moral suitability of a film, this may cause you to re-think your position.

Both Murderball and The Devil's Rejects opened this past weekend. For the purposes of this article, I'll put cinematic quality aside. Instead, I'll stick to content; specifically, how the MPAA views content. Both movies were given an R-rating. Murderball is a documentary that includes some profanity (in conversations between real people) and descriptions of how quadriplegics have sex (with some non-graphic visual material that contains brief nudity). The Devil's Rejects includes graphic violence, gore, and bloodletting; torture (in sexual and non-sexual situations); full frontal nudity; frequent profanity; necrophilia; and various other perversions. Yet the MPAA saw fit to afix the same classification on both films.

Consider Murderball first. This movie should have been given a PG-13. Unfortunately, the MPAA has an inflexible (and unfathomable) one "fuck" rule. Use "fuck" or a variation of the word more than once, and it's an instant R. (I have just given this column an R-rating. Anyone under 17 who is reading, please make sure you have the permission of a parent or guardian to continue. I don't want to be accused of corrupting a minor.) Also, any depiction of sexual activity that includes nudity cannot be allowed in something rated PG-13. The context, unfortunately, doesn't mean anything to the MPAA. And when context is considered in the case of Murderball, it's not hard to make a case that the film is acceptable to be shown to teenage viewers. Granted, the content is probably too strong for pre-teens, but any high school student who wants to see a documentary about quadriplegics playing rugby should have that opportunity avialable to them. They shouldn't have to ask a parent to accomplany them to a theater or wait for the film to arrive on DVD. (Or, I might add, look on-line for a pirated version of the film.) Giving Murderball an R is an injustice.

On the other hand, the decision to award an R to The Devil's Rejects is no less baffling. If ever a movie deserved an NC-17, this is it. It's a morally repugnant movie that violates every bound of decency. The idea that kids under 17 can get in to see this boggles the mind. (Frankly, I don't know many people over 17 who would want to subject themselves to the ordeal, but that's another matter.) The content presented by Rob Zombie is not appropriate to be seen by anyone under the age of consent. That's not censorship; it's common sense. Giving The Devil's Rejects an R is a crime. (I assume, albeit without evidence, that studio politicking had a lot to do with the film avoiding an NC-17.)

It's clear to me that a system that awards Murderball and The Devil's Rejects the same ratings classification is broken beyond repair. How can parents make an informed decision about what their children are seeing if the system is so unhelpful. Yes, I know that descriptors are now available to explain why something is rated R, but those few words don't take context into account. "Nudity" is different when it's a brief glimpse excerpted from a training video for quadriplegics hoping to resume a sex life as opposed to a woman who is being tortured and humiliated.

This is not a call to arms to disband the current ratings system. Rather, it's a warning that the labels advertised by the MPAA should be investigated. Relying on that brand of alphabet soup could get you scalded.

July 26, 2005 (Tuesday):

Sequels and Backwards (In)Compatability

Now that seemingly every third motion picture is a sequel, the question has to be asked: How does a subsequent installment of a movie series impact the viewer's impressions of what has gone before? It's a tricky question, and not one that many movie-makers are considering as they rush to get their product out the door.

Admittedly, there are some instances when it doesn't matter. A bad second Miss Congeniality isn't going to cause a revisionist perspective of the original. Ditto for Meet the Fockers and Legally Blonde 2. That's because there's no real love for these "franchises." They are disposable entertainment. Half the people in theaters for the second installments don't remember much about the first.

But what about movie series that have serious, built-in fan bases where sequels matter because their content becomes "canon?" If the sequel is good, there are no complaints. But what if the sequel is bad, and, worse, what if it does damage to established characters and/or storylines? Here are some examples.

After its release, Alien was considered to be a modern science fiction/horror classic. Fans approached the sequel, Aliens, with trepidation, but it turned out that James Cameron fashioned a second installment that was as good as, if not better than, Ridley Scott's original. Then came Alien 3. Not only was it a bad movie, but it killed off Newt and Hicks, two characters who gave Aliens its emotional punch. Worse still, they were eliminated "off screen," and ended up DOA. Alien Resurrection compounded the situation by giving us another dud and erasing Ripley's death, and Alien Vs. Predator completed the cycle, reducing a once-beloved franchise into a laughingstock. For those who have seen movies #3, #4, and #5, is it possible to re-watch #1 and especially #2 in the same light? Of course not. In this case, bad sequels have diminished, however slightly, good originals.

Similar arguments can be made for the fourth installments of the Batman and Superman franchises. Enduring Superman IV: The Quest for Peace steals away the good will generated by the first two Superman movies. (The third installment wallows in mediocrity - it's neither good nor bad, and isn't memorable.) For those who have seen the entire Superman saga, it's hard to watch the first two episodes without at least subconsciously recognizing what's lurking out there at the end of the line. And you can't pretend it doesn't exist, since the proof is on the celluloid.

In Star Trek II, Spock dies. In 1982, this was an emotional moment - the first time a major Trek character shuffled off this mortal coil. Two years later, the Vulcan returned. Star Trek III wasn't a bad motion picture, but it diminished the impact of its predecessor's ending. In 1982, it was "Spock is dead!" After 1984, it was, "Okay, he's dead, but he'll be back in the next movie."

The there's the issue of Kirk's ignominous passing in Star Trek: Generations, and he doesn't come back. It's arguably the most pathetic death scene ever endured by a long-running character, and it's easy to understand why some old guard Star Trek fans abandoned the movie series after this. Is it possible to watch any of Kirk's old adventures without thinking of how it will all end for him?

Many Star Wars fans hate the prequels. If you think they are inferior, have they limited your enjoyment of the original trilogy? Does the Ewan McGregor Obi-Wan take something away from the Alec Guiness version? Is it possible to view Darth Vader in the same way in Episode IV?

The upside of a sequel is that it gives us an opportunity to revisit familiar characters and watch the next steps of an ongoing adventure. But there's a downside to this. Sequels that are badly written, ill conceived, and/or made exclusively for financial reasons can result in a diminution of an entire series. Sometimes, it's better not to know what happens next, because, once you have seen it, you may wish you hadn't.

July 27, 2005 (Wednesday):

Up Your Shaft, and Other Kind Wishes

Generally speaking, I am amused by hate mail. Sometimes, it's banal - along the lines of: "You suck. You wouldnt know a good movie if it bit you on the ass." (Real e-mail from a couple of days ago.) Those are boring and are punished for their lack of entertainment value by immediate deletion. But there are some really creative hate mails. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten any recently. Too bad, because reading them are almost as enjoyable as panning an awful film.

I have noticed a trend about hate mails concerning my review of The Devil's Rejects. They all appear to have been written by illiterates. This leads me to draw some harsh conclusions about the film's fan base. Here's an example: "i have a hard time understanding your review on the devil's reject. did you actually watch the film before you criticized it? for a man that's obviously not a fan of horror it makes you're opinion completely biased. normally i wouldn't care but then i saw your review of hustle and flow and i was just really annoyed that you gave that movie 3 stars." And another: "could you do me a favor and tell me when they say otis is spaldings kid you fuck tard they never say because hes not so dont comment on shit you dont know i thought you kind of people were supposed to be smart try some research before you open your stupid mouth"

At least the first person (female, based upon her name) used punctuation, although not always correctly. The second e-mailer didn't bother with that. Apparently, there are a lot of keyboards out there without SHIFT keys. (I know, I know... it could be a cell phone, but that's no excuse for sloppiness or laziness.)

I wonder about the ages of these respondents. Based on past experience, e-mails of this sort are written by kids between the ages of 12 and 16. That brings up the alarming possibility that there are children seeing this movie. Read my ReelThoughts of two days ago to learn my opinion about the too-lenient MPAA rating accorded to The Devil's Rejects. In theory, no one in this age group should have been able to see the movie (unless accompanied by a parent or guardian...), but the high percentage of sneak-ins makes the R a sham. The only time multiplexes pay attention to who's seeing what is when there's an NC-17 film. Then armed guards are posted and people looking like Rip Van Winkle have to provide ID. Would-be blockade-breakers are either shot on sight or forced to walk next door and sit through Bewitched.

Now I'm certain there are some intelligent fans of The Devil's Rejects out there who could write me a witty piece of hate mail. Go ahead, make my day. Tell me what you really think of me and my review, but do it in such a way that I'll pay attention rather than flush it. (Hint: using the phrase "fuck tard" is not a good start.) And you'll know you have gotten my attention if I return fire. But, when sending off epithets, leave my wife, mother, and cat out of it. They didn't see the movie, so they don't have an opinion.

By the way, although I ignored the first e-mail, I responded to the second one, primarily because I was in an ornery mood. (Seeing crap like Stealth will do that to a critic - I must remember never to answer e-mail after coming back from something that gets less than two stars.) For the record, here's what I wrote: "The official press notes state this [referring the family relationships in the film]. It's interesting that all of the negative comments I have received about the review appear to have been written by illiterates like yourself. Have you ever heard of punctuation or capitalization?"

Tomorrow: It's About Time.

July 29, 2005 (Friday):

The New "Who" (Part One)

The BBC Science Fiction TV series "Doctor Who" first came to the United States in 1978, fifteen years after its debut in the U.K. (There were isolated instances of the program being shown pre-'78, but that was the year when Time-Life purchased four seasons and packaged them for syndication.) From a global perspective, the late 1970s and early 1980s represented the height of the Doctor's popularity. Actors from the series (both past and present) were in demand at conventions, ratings were up, and PBS stations all across the United States were buying the episodes at an amazing pace.

By 1989, "Doctor Who" was dead - the victim of horrendous stories and a dwindling viewership that had lost all hope. It's almost painful to consider the quality of writing during the show's last five seasons. Even at its best, "Doctor Who" was cheesy, but it mixed in wit, intelligence, allegory, and human drama. Alas, from 1985-1989, the cheese had virtually nudged out everything else. (Yes, there were a few enjoyable stories during those last five short seasons, but a lot was unwatchable.)

But, like "Star Trek," cancellation couldn't keep "Doctor Who" down. After leaving the air in 1989, it continued to live on - in novels, comic books, and "audio adventures" (stories acted out on cassette and CD featuring many of the original actors). In 1995, a TV movie version of "Doctor Who" was announced, to be co-produced by the BBC and the U.S.'s FOX-TV. It was viewed as a potential pilot. If the ratings were sufficient, "Doctor Who" would be reborn for the 1996-97 TV season. However, the movie, shown on FOX in the middle of the 1995 May sweeps period, had an abysmal viewership, and the show returned to dormancy.

The 1996 TV movie suffered from an identity crisis. While it's true that it was not well written, that wasn't the primary reason why few watched it and fewer liked it. For die-hard "Doctor Who" fans, this wasn't their series. It was an "Americanized" hybrid that removed much of what made "Doctor Who" unique. For non-"Who" fans, it was a weird, British thing that didn't meet their expectations of what science fiction was supposed to be. But one important lesson was learned - if "Doctor Who" was ever to return, it would have to be a British series with a British flavor. And if the Americans didn't like it, too bad.

"Doctor Who" celebrated its 40th anniversary in November 2003 amidst growing rumors that the series would be returning. The official announcement came not long after. The new "Doctor Who" would be produced by BBC Wales under the auspices of Russell T. Davies (The "Queer as Folk" guy), and would debut in its home country in March 2005. Viewers in Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and a few other places bought and scheduled the show. But there was no United States outlet, and, at least to date, there are no plans to broadcast the new "Doctor Who" in the U.S.

It almost happened, but, as things are wont to do, the deal fell apart at the last minute. The Sci-Fi Channel was on board until they read the small print in the contract. Not only would they be buying the rights to the new 13 episodes, they would be buying the rights to all of the previous 26 seasons. But Sci-Fi didn't want that - they only wanted the new stuff, and didn't want to pay for something they didn't intend to use. The BBC would not relent, so there was no deal. The best chance U.S. audiences have to see "Doctor Who" on television probably rests with BBC America - but they cannot currently afford the program. (Yes, BBC America has to pay the BBC for programming, although I presume it's at a discount rate.)

Season One of the new "Doctor Who" was not viewed as a re-boot, but a modernized continuation of the series. Davies wanted to maintain the series' general continuity, although he was unconcerned about specifics. For reasons I will never quite understand, this irked some fans. Special effects, always the Doctor's beloved Achilles heel, were intended to be upgraded. The role of the companion was to change as well. In the original series, she had three functions: look attractive, scream as well as Fay Wray, and ask the Doctor for explanations. Now, she was intended to be on an equal footing with the Time Lord, a kind-of Buffy in Space. (In terms of things coming full circle, Buffy's creator, Joss Whedon, is an admitted "Doctor Who" fan, and occasionally borrowed elements from the original "Doctor Who" for "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." Now, Davies was returning the favor.)

Respected actor Christopher Eccleston was hired to play the Ninth Doctor and pop starlet-turned-actress Billie Piper signed to play the companion, Rose. The first season featured the return of the TARDIS (in its familiar blue Police Call Box shape), the sonic screwdriver, the Daleks (after a lengthy series of negotiations with the estate of their late creator, Terry Nation), and the familiar theme song (only slightly upgraded). After the airing of several episodes, "Doctor Who" was considered a hit, and the BBC renewed it for two more seasons. Then came the news that Eccleston was departing, to be replaced by David Tennant. Billie Piper would stay, although presumably for more money.

Eccleston's one-and-done term is understandable. Davies wanted an internationally known, respected actor to re-launch the series, but it's not reasonable to assume that Eccleston would want to be lumbered with a nine-month-a-year TV job for more than a short period. Rumor has it that Davies wanted Tennant for the role from the beginning, but was savvy enough to recognize that it would be better to start with Eccleston for one year, then make the transition. If that's how it happened, I agree with the approach - as long as Tennant has been locked up for more than one year. It will be disconcerting to see a new Doctor every year.

Now, what did I think of the episodes? That's for Saturday…

July 30, 2005 (Saturday):

The New "Who" (Part Two)

Now to an episode-by-episode overview of the new "Doctor Who." As I see it, the 13-epidode season is divided into two sections: the setup (episodes 1-7) and the payoff (episodes 8-13). Most of the bad stuff and the least successful stories comes during the first half of the run. Just after the mid-point, the progam makes a turn for the better. Over the span of the first seven episodes, there is only one really solid story. Conversely, in the last six, there is only one sub-par entry, and that has an explosive final third.

The season opens with "Rose," a genial but confusing episode that not only introduces all of the characters, but has the Doctor facing his old enemies, the Autons. Coherence isn't a strong suit, but character interaction is. In 45 minutes, we get a sense of the strong chemistry between the Doctor and Rose, and are introduced to the new, slicker feel of "Doctor Who." The electronic score is ghastly, as are some of the attempts at humor, but, as a way to re-start the franchise, it succeeds more often than fails.

"The End of the World" offers viewers a look into the future. Lots of aliens in this one, and some excellent special effects. More fun interaction between the two leads, and a surprising revelation about the Doctor's past. The drawback is that there's not much of a story. The episode is forgettable but not unpleasant.

"The Unquiet Dead" is the new series' first real winner, a 19th century ghost story, guest starring Simon Callow as Charles Dickens. The episode gets everything right except perhaps the ending (which is a little too contrived) - excellent acting, pristine period detail, crisp dialogue, and a gothic atmosphere. "The Unquiet Dead" offers a glimpse of what "Doctor Who" can be at its best.

Unfortunately, the subsequent two-parter, "Aliens of London" and "World War III," shows what "Doctor Who" can be at its worst. About the only strengths of this overlong, too-silly story are the interactions between the Doctor and Rose (including a touching admission of affection and responsibliity by the Doctor). The aliens, despite being rendered in CGI, recall the man-in-a-rubber-suit days and very little about what happens during this 90-minute tale makes sense. The Slitheen will not go down in the annals of television history as one of the great "Doctor Who" monsters. Give me the Sea Devils any time.

The most anticipated episode of the season, aside from "Rose," was "Dalek," which brings back a single representative of the race that has tormented the Doctor since 1963. I found the episode to be disappointing. There are times when it's possible to de-mystify evil (Star Wars) and other times when it doesn't work. The Daleks should not be humanized, and the episode's attempts to do so cause it to strike a wrong chord. About the only thing worse than Darth Vader letting out a heart-wrenching cry is to hear a Dalek whining, "Help me!" Despite massive bloodshed, this episode is devoid of menace. Plus, it introduces Adam, a really annoying temporary sidekick.

The setup portion of the series ends with "The Long Game," another forgettable episode that takes place on a space station orbiting Earth in the distant future. The only thing memorable about "The Long Game" is that it ends with the Doctor dumping off the annoying Adam, who gets his just desserts.

Now, on to the good stuff... It starts with "Father's Day," a compelling story about the dangers and paradoxes of time travel. Yes, there are some flaws, but you have to be looking to find them. Besides, time travel is only a device here. This episode is about fathers and daughters, and one huge unresolved issue in Rose's life. It's also about the Doctor and Rose, and what the former is willing to sacrifice for the latter.

The best story of the season follows: the two-parter "The Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances." Written by "Coupling" creator Steven Moffat, this effort has everything: tension, humor, terror, and exhileration. It includes some of the best one-liners of the series, and keeps the viewer guessing where it's going next. The conclusion doesn't disappoint, nor does the new companion, the dashing Captain Jack Harkness, who joins the Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS. If you're interested in trying new "Who," this is the episode to start with. If "The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances" doesn't get you hooked, nothing will.

"Boom Town" brings back the Slitheen, but this is a different kind of episode from its predecessor. Like "Dalek," "Boom Town" is a meditation on ethics. The Doctor does some soul-searching in this story, and it reminds us that the best science fiction is often the allergorical kind. "Boom Town" is probably as good as it gets for any episode featuring the Slitheen.

Fans of reality TV may appreciate "Bad Wolf," but I found the first 30 minutes to be filler. I don't watch "Big Brother" or "The Weakest Link," so the in-jokes were lost on me. But, after a weak and meandering first two-thirds, this story kicks into high gear with an amazing final quarter-hour. We get to see how the Doctor really feels about Rose, and then the Daleks are back - lots of them - and not the wimpy kind that we encountered earlier in the season.

"The Parting of the Ways" has it all - great special effects, the Doctor playing the hero, Rose proving herself worthy (amazing acting by Billie Piper), all-out war with the Daleks, a race against time, the long-awaited lip-to-lip kiss between the Doctor and his companion, and the regneration of Christopher Eccleston to David Tennant. It's a winner of an episode, although I'll be the first to admit that parts of it don't hold together upon careful scrutiny. Still, the emotions it generates are real, and it's an excellent way to end a solid first season. Not since the death of Tom Baker's Doctor have I been this affected by a change of actor.

"Doctor Who" hasn't been this much fun since the early days of Peter Davison (say, 1982). The challenge now is for the producers to up the ante and give us more episodes like "The Doctor Dances" and fewer like "Aliens of London." Keep the sexual tension between Rose and the Doctor. It works. And bring back Captain Jack. I didn't like the guy at first, but, over the course of his five episodes, he grew on me.

I'll be back watching again in December for the holiday special, "The Christmas Invasion."

©2005 James Berardinelli