Author: Witney

Benjamin Meade’s “Bazaare Bizarre” is a documentary film about the Missouri serial killer Bob Berdella, who kidnapped, raped, and murdered anywhere from six to 48 young men in the mid-to-late 1980s. Berdella was a horrifying criminal. He looked like a particularly sleazy version of John Goodman’s character from “The Big Lebowski.” He would cruise around in a van, pick up young male prostitutes, and then drug them, tie them to a bed or into a bathtub, and subject them to all manner of sexual horrors. He would inject their throats with Drāno to make them mute. He would caulk their ears shut. He would take pictures. He kept a detailed log of his actions, complete with a twisted shorthand. He would then kill them, and put their dismembered bodies in trash bags out by the curb. Some he would bury in the woods. Some he would bury in his basement. He got away with this for years. His reign of terror ended when one of his victims, a kid named Chris Bryson, was able to escape from his prison by burning through his ropes with a pilfered cigarette lighter. He was found running madly through the streets, streaked with blood, wearing a dog collar and leash.

 

Berdella was arrested and taken to court. He felt no remorse for his crimes, and claimed that the local police were to blame for allowing him to continue killing. He was convicted for six deaths, and was sent to prison where he promptly died of a heart attack. Many lament his passing, as he was sure to eventually tell where more of his victims were buried.

This is a sad and violent story, but I’m not sure in “Bazaar Bizarre” is the film to tell it. “Bazaar Bizarre,” you see, was put out by Troma Team International, that infamous New Jersey-based production company, marked by their open acceptance and gleeful promotion of the weirdest and silliest gore films you can imagine; Troma, and their head honcho, the charismatic Lloyd Kaufman, are responsible for “The Toxic Avenger,” “Terror Firmer,” “Poultreygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead,” and hundreds of others. So it’s kind of bizarre to see a reportedly frank documentary coming from their wacky stable.

 

On the one hand,”Bazaar Bizarre” is hosted by famed crime author James Ellroy, who wrote seminal L.A.-based crime works like The Black Dahlia, Brown’s Requiem, and L.A. Confidential. Ellroy’s presence lends weight and pedigree to our story; surely he knows a thing or two about serial killers. But on the other hand, the film is punctuated by weird, dank (and incredibly long) re-enactments of the crimes, including sensational gore-splattered slaughters, and campy, fake-looking cannibalism scenes. It’s unclear if “Bazaar Bizarre” wanted to be a dark cautionary fable, or a wacky Mondo-like crime-fest.

What’s more, “Bazaar Bizarre” (a title taken from Berdella’s swap-meet curio booth, where he would sell doomy knickknacks and homemade chili), contains numerous musical numbers performed by a band called Demon Dogs. They would sing inappropriately aggrandizing and strangely silly songs about Berdella’s crimes. They wore long cloaks, and looked like that band of dumb, mopey, wrestling-obsessed clods you used to stay away from in high school, but all grown up. It’s one thing when a local DJ sings a spoof song about Berdella on AM radio (which actually happened), as it is a tasteless-yet-funny song on topical events. It’s another thing entirely when some group of death-shrouded hipsters sing rubber phantom songs about a local boogieman.

 

It’s when these musical numbers are unspooling that you being to get a sense of what “Bazaare Bizarre’s” actual MO is: This is a film for Unhappy Mutants. The kids who lionize serial killers, and memorize details of their crimes to repeat them in casual conversation. The kids who have Mayhem posters on their walls. The kids who wear black every day, and threaten to beat you up, before they go home and re-watch their “Faces of Death” videos. The kids who own exotic knives and swords. This is a movie for them.

Despite the presence of Ellroy, and the actual documentary footage of Berdella himself at his inquest, as an interview with his one surviving victim, despite the comment that serial killers need to be looked out for, and sequestered from humanity where they can get help, despite the tragedy of the deaths and the horror of the crimes, this is a film that, at the end of the day, is celebrating death in a wholly unwholesome fashion.

 

It’s bizarre.

Coming up in May, Ryan Reynolds will be playing The Green Lantern, a jet pilot who becomes possessed by a piece of alien jewelry. Or something. I don’t really follow The Green Lantern. The film version of the comic, however, is poised to be an enormous hit, finally giving the passionate scores of Green Lantern fans something to geek out about, and mainstream superhero junkies something new to look forward to.

 

It’s also the first time Ryan Reynolds has opened a film. He’s had leading roles before, (“The Nines,” “Buried,” “Definitely, Maybe”), but they were either in small-budget indie films with small distribution deals, or disposable rom-com fluff. He’s been in big-budget superhero action films as well (“Wolverine,” “Blade Trinity”), but he was always a second-tier player. I’ve always admired Ryan Reynolds, going back as far as his appearance on “The X-Files,” so it pleases me that this actor, who has spend the bulk of his career being the funniest and most watchable thing in bad movies, is finally getting his due.

 

Sadly, for every Ryan Reynolds, there are hundreds of perfectly funny, intense, serious thespians in the world who never get their due. Actors who work frequently, and are always a delight to see in films, but who never manage to get the enormous Hollywood success they so deserve (some would say over their A-list peers). The people who make your face light up, but who never seem to land the big prestige pictures and/or action blockbusters they have worked so hard to earn. The list of these performers is endless (as would be its counterpart; actors who should be less famous than they are), but this week, for Geekscape, I have compiled the following list of hugely talented actors, masters of their craft, who have received consistent work over the years, but who have never quite hit the big time (at least, not yet), much to the chagrin of their fans.

 

Let’s give these actors their due.

Clifton Collins, Jr.

Clifton Collins, Jr. first started working in TV on shows like “Freddy’s Nightmares” and “The Flash.” I first noticed him way back in 1992, when I saw him in Stuart Gordon’s underrated sci-fi prison film “Fortress.” His dark eyes and intense glare add weight to any scene he’s in, and he has a guarded gregariousness onscreen that make the viewer want to talk to him, albeit cautiously. He’s played soldiers (most notably in “Tigerland”), vatos, and gangsters. He showed up in “Traffic,” if you recall. He played Perry Smith in “Capote,” and, I would say matched Robert Blake’s intensity, if not his operatic tragedy. He even had a supporting role in the recent “Star Trek” movie as a Romulan, so he even has some genre cred.

 

My favorite role of his was probably the beleaguered shop-owner in “Sunshine Cleaning.” He had a weirdness that was initially off-putting, and a shyness that was human and appealing. He has played threatening tough guys and soulful warriors. He possesses the same scary/vulnerable quality as Willem Dafoe. I’m convinced he can do any role he is assigned, and I would love to see him in a leading role.

 

Orlando Jones

Orlando Jones is one of the funnier actors I’ve seen. I remember his monologues from “MadTV” (and yes, I did briefly watch “MadTV”), and taping them, and re-watching them, and loving every second of his screentime. He was frank and sarcastic. His comedy was of a piece with Bill Murray; that is to say, he would project a slight wink of self-awareness that made his line-reading all the funnier. He eventually (and some might say wisely) left “MadTV” to act in movies, and, for a while, was landing small roles in high-profile films like “Magnolia,” the remake of “Bedazzled,” and Barry Levinson’s “Liberty Heights.”

 

He was especially notable, oddly enough, in the remake of “The Time Machine,” where he played a huffy hologram, eager to share his knowledge with people, and impatient when they indulged in pop-culture fantasy. He even had a bittersweet story arc later in the film. Sadly, Jones never took off as a leading man, having only opened the film “Double Take” alongside Eddie Griffin. Once again, he gave his all to the material, but the film itself was not very good. This is a man who is dedicated, and I have seen his talent shining through his string of B films and supporting television.

 

For some reason, I picture him as a noir detective. Let’s get that going.

Jeff Fahey

Jeff Fahey is the man Eric Roberts should have been. Ruggedly handsome, occasionally slimy, occasionally innocent, soulfully intense, and a lot more talented, Fahey has been lurking in my subconsciousness ever since he played the innocent-simpleton-turned-horrible-psychic-psychopath in 1992’s “The Lawnmower Man.” The film itself is rather ridiculous, but Fahey proved, beyond a doubt, that he was able to juggle various disparate notes with equal aplomb. He was sweet and dumb one instant, grew confidence, became casual and conversational, and even pulled off being a cold-eyed killer very well. He played similar notes in the serial-killer’s-arm-possesses-man film “Body Parts” the year previous.

 

If you were like me, you saw a lot of B-movie in the 1990s, so you probably noticed Fahey in films like “White Hunter, Black Heart,” “Darkman III,” and “Epicenter.” I remember being delighted when he played the lead role in a little chapie thriller called “The Sketch Artist,” where he played the title policeman, who suspected that his girlfriend is a criminal. This is a true professional who, unlike many of his peers, brought his A game to every one of his projects, despite the material. He recently had a notable role in Robert Rodriguez’ “Machete.” Perhaps this will get him closer to the challenging lead role he’s been pointing to.

Piper Perabo

Piper Perabo recently landed a regular role in the TV series “Covert Affairs” which means her career may be on an uptick, but I feel she should have been a star much earlier. In “Lost and Delirious,” a queer drama from Canada, she played a lesbian schoolgirl as a wounded animal, enraged that the object of her affection was spurning her. She was playful at first, and slowly became passionately psychotic. The film was a mite dreary, but her energy was notable. She is probably best known, for playing the mousy-gal-turned-foxy-bar-maven in the infamous “Coyote Ugly,” which is not a good film, but one in which she shone above the others. I was impressed, also, with her work in the underrated film version of “The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle,” where she was cute and energetic and darned funny.

 

She’s cropped up in bit parts here and there. She played the spurned wife in “The Prestige,” the eldest daughter in the “Cheaper by the Dozen” films, and the human character in “Beverly Hills Chihuahua.” Like any true professional, though, she brought real human qualities to her roles, despite her amount of screentime, proving that old adage that there are no small roles, just small actors. Her smile is dazzling, and her willingness to sell her part is rarely matched. Here’s another actress looking for a good meaty biopic role. It’s a task she is equal to. Cast her as a tortured comedienne. She’d do well.

 

Matthew Lillard

Everyone remembers Lillard from back in 1996, as he was the maniacal, goofy best friend in Wes Craven’s now-seminal “Scream.” Those who bothered to research him further would have also discovered his wonderful performance as a suburban rebel in Salt Lake City in the indie hit “SLC Punk!” He’s an actor who seems constantly on the edge of cracking up, which gives his lines a funny edge, but also a weird, grounded reality that is difficult to explain. He is funny. Very funny, actually. Even when he shows up in bit parts in “Summer Catch” or “Wing Commander,” you’re ready to giggle along with him. You may not be with the film, but when Lillard is on screen, you’re kind of on his side. His off-the-cuff puckishness and easy mad grin make him incredibly watchable.

 

He also got a lot of attention for playing shaggy in the live-action “Scooby-Doo” feature films. Many (myself included) questioned the need for “Scooby-Doo” feature films, and, by all accounts, they were pretty bad, but Lillard did not just play the live-action version of a cartoon character; he embodied it. Aside from “SLC Punk!,” Lillard has played the leading role in the recent release “Spooner,” which did not receive too much acclaim. Lillard deserves more chances, as his manic talent cannot go untapped.

 

Kevin J. O’Connor

Seriously, watch “Lord of Illusions.” Kevin J. O’Connor plays the tortured ex-cult-member-turned-powerful-stage-magician Swann in more subtle ways than you’d expect from a fleshy middling mid-’90s horror flick. He seems panicked and distracted. His worry is what drives the film; even more than Scott Bakula’s miscalculated tough guy antics. Now watch “There Will Be Blood,” and see how similar qualities as the lost Plainview brother was the only thing lending any sort of real humanity to an otherwise emotionally cold film. Now watch the 1999 version of “The Mummy.” See how he’s actually just as talented as a sniveling weasel. Now watch “Amistad.” A clunky film full of neat stuff, notably, O’Connor as a put-upon missionary.

 

This is the guy you want in your film. Capable of just about any kind of role, possessed of those intense blue eyes, and natural professional gravity often unseen in genre actors in his peer group, O’Connor has managed to grab the eye whenever he’s on screen. “Lord of Illusions” is the closest thing he’s ever had to a leading role (the film is really his story), and he was equal to the task, managing to portray distracted and tortured without stooping to cheap melodramatic tricks. This is a man who, given the chance, could prove to be as diverse and as intense as someone like Philip Seymour Hoffman. He needs his “Half Nelson.”

 

Maria Bello

Maria Bello is pretty and easy; she approaches her roles with a naturalness and lack of affect that is at once disarming and friendly, and appealing in that standoffish girl-who-is-way-cooler-than-you way. Whenever I see a miscast female lead in a film (say Rachel McAdams in “Sherlock Holmes” or Gwyneth Paltrow in “Proof,”) I secretly re-cast the role with Maria Bello. In my mind, the woman can do no wrong. She has more than mere talent, she has that ineffable moxie that makes her seem like you want to hang out with her. Her small role in “Thank You for Smoking,” as the flip alcohol backer is proof of this. Her playful sexuality in “A History of Violence” stood above that film’s protracted maleness. Her wounded love in “The Cooler” played well with the immensely talented William H. Macy. She even played mysterious multiple roles, adding to the amazement of Paul Schrader’s underrated “Auto Focus.”

 

What’s more, she has a healthy view of her role as a sex object in many of her films, as proven in an interview segment from “This Film is Not Yet Rated,” where she was just as cool and as smart as any of her perfroemances. She’s the real deal.

 

As far as I can tell, Bello has only had one leading role, and it was in a little-seen tragedy called “Downloading Nancy,” about a woman who volunteers to be in an internet snuff film. I sadly have not seen it, but have been trying to track it down; I’m sure Bello’s powerful personality brings the film to the surface. Next, let’s cast her as a kick-ass sci-fi detective. For some reason, I can picture her slamming her boot into a alien’s throat.

 

Billy Zane

Listen to your friend Billy Zane.

 

His career started in seminal 1980s genre films “Back to the Future” and “Critters.” In 1995, he bit into the role of a demon incubus in the hysterical and energetic “Demon Knight.” In 1996, he played “The Phantom,” which is much maligned and, in my mind, underrated. In 1997, he played the melodramatic villain in “Titanic,” which doesn’t quite show the depth of his talent, but gave him worldwide exposure. In 1997, he was also in an odd incest-laced romance called “This World, The the Fireworks.” He’s played roles ranging from Mark Antony and Jack Kerouac, to flip and funny versions of himself.

 

Recently, he’s been in a string of cheesy B films which run from “BloodRayne” to “Chupacabra.” What Zane possesses, though, is a dark carnival cheer which elevates all of his films. He’s casual. He’s funny. Whether he’s a Roman ruler or an evil supernatural monster, he comes across as the cool guy you want to hang out with. He’s the friend you don’t want to piss off. He’s the leader you follow because he’s actually friendly and smart enough to lead. He’s like Claudius in Hamlet, capable of grievous crimes, but spends most of his time being charming and charismatic. He did manage to open a superhero film, but that was back before the ’00s superhero boom. Bring him back now. I’d rather see Zane’s flip intensity over whatever bland prettyboy they are casting as Captain America.

 

David Paymer

David Paymer is usually cast as the weaselly loser. In “Get Shorty,” he was the swindling dry-cleaner. In “State and Main” he was a sniveling industry wonk. In “Carpool,” his only leading role, he was a put-upon dad. This, I think, only stands as a testament to his ability to play to pathos very well. For some reason I see that translating to the role of Cassius in “Julius Caesar.” His film career has been relegated to “hey it’s that guy!’ roles, where you note him and like him, but never see him taking over for the dashing leading man. This is a pity, as I think he has the adult gravitas to pull of a huge dramatic tragedy. He is more than a whiny supporting man. He is the bottle of power waiting to be uncorked.

 

Paymer could be more than an action blockbuster, though. He could be a mob boss. He could play Shakespeare. Can you imagine How awesome he would be in an intense role like Iago? I think his thin voice and small stature, paired with his ease on screen and reputation as a sniveling sad-sack could play well to the mystery of violence lurking in Iago’s eyes. If it’s not intese you want, then cast him as a Shakespearean clown; his comic roles in “Crazy People,” and just about anything else proves his comic chops.

Ron Perlman

It may be unfair to mention Perlman on this list, as he has a string of high-profile films under his belt. He’s also the go-to guy for a legitimate superhero franchise, as he played the title character in Guillermo Del Toro’s “Hellboy” films. He’s also been in iconic cult video games and cartoons like “Conan,” “Batman,” “Teen Titans,” and “Fallout.” If you are a genre fan, you know about Ron Perlman, and you will be delighted to see him in anything (even if he is buried under pounds of makeup, as is so often the case). His deep voice and striking features are immediately recognizable, and his willingness to sell a role, no matter how silly, speaks to his bottomless professionalism.

 

But Perlman is, I feel, capable of much more. Sure, we can appreciate his soulful monosyllabic brute in “The City of Lost Children,” but how many if us were moved by his wonderful performance in “The Last Supper?” I’m willing to be it’s fewer. He is a bombastic actor, who acts from the ground up, light a mighty, charismatic titan. He can growl like a badass, but, just as well, he can cause you to weep with his quiet strength. His career stretches back to the 1970s, and he’s been working steadily ever since. His casting in “Hellboy” was a boon for him, and made him more recognizable than ever before. I, however, feel he should be in Oscar-caliber movies, where he is regularly winning awards, and nailing the dark roles in intense dramas. Let’s get this guy more work. Well, even more than he’s getting.

 

 

Witney Seibold watches way too many movies. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife and his crotchety attitude. You can read his reviews on his ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years, and hear his weekly podcast, “The B-Movies Podcast” with William Bibbiani over at Crave Online.

Neil Burger‘s “Limitless” is clearly a callow power fantasy for writers and students. It’s about a fellow who discovers a magical new drug that makes him smart and witty and driven, and one that allows him to suddenly be inspired and active enough to actually finish that book he’s been thinking about. As a writer, I can relate to this: how many times have I, or have any of us, felt that we had all the right ideas lurking in our skulls, but were lacking the gumption to actually get our writing assignments done? Don’t you wish you had a magic pill that made you… well, not “high,” but merely focused?

 

How “Limitless” actually deals with the realization of this fantasy is, sadly, a bit lacking. The hero of our story, general loser Eddie Morra (the bright-eyed sleaze Bradley Cooper) stumbles upon the magical drug NZT, and finds that he can access all his memories, and organize them into cogent thoughts. He finds that he can complete his book, and has the wherewithal to learn new languages, learn the piano, learn complicated mathematics, and recognize patterns in the stock market. He even has the drive to get some exercise, organize his apartment, and get a haircut (although his charming 5 o’clock shadow is always in place), and get back together with his charming and perpetually concerned ex-girlfriend (Abbie Cornish). What does he do with these gifts of manic energy and steel-trap intelligence? Why he does the dumbest things you could imagine.

For one, he takes a loan from violent Russian criminal (Andrew Howard). This is dumb enough, but he also forgets to repay the man when he’s earned back his loan. This seems irresponsible for a man with an ultra-organized mind. He feels that he must use his intelligence for “better things,” but only thinks to go into stock trading. True, he can make millions, but he’s not actually helping anyone with that course of action. Eddie also finds that a mysterious tough guy has been following him, and clearly has a connection to the dead man (Johnny Whitowrth) who gave him the magic drug to begin with. Crippled by paranoia, Eddie begins carrying the drug with him at all times. Like all of it. In a special compartment he has sewn into his jacket. It’s no wonder, then, that his stash is stolen from him the first time he takes off his jacket. Eddie also ends up buying a panic-room-like apartment, reinforced by steel and miles above the New York streets, only to learn later that he gets no phone reception. Wouldn’t a super-smart fellow, who thinks of everything, think to have a land-line installed?

Also, Robert De Niro is in this movie, as the cutthroat shark stock-broker who takes Eddie under his wing. Eddie is seen as a go-getter and as a dandyish wünderkind, and is warned that he has the smarts and the know-how, but not the wisdom or the experience to actually relate to the business. Had Eddie’s hubris actually been a part of his downfall, than “Limitless” would have been a stronger film with a real message. Sadly, the film stays on Eddie’s side the entire time, allows him to takes drugs with few consequences, and all leads to an unintentionally hilarious scene in which he has to slurp drug-infused blood up off the floor.

 

And, since he gets away with it all (and I don’t think that’s much of a spoiler), “Limitless” turns into one of the most blatantly pro-drug films since “The Faculty” in 1997. Don’t worry kids. You can have all the ups and none of the downs. Sure there are dangerous criminals involved in taking drugs, but you’ll be o.k., provided you have some drugs in your system when they come to get you. Be sure not to run out. Here. Do a line. That Eddie’s powerful stock-borkerish persona looks like a slicked-back 1980s Wall St. cokehead sleaze doesn’t help matters.

 

I did like the way the film was photographed, though. It was an obvious trick, but I did like how, when Eddie was high, the film’s photography would change. The colors would turns from depressing greys and blues to bright reds and yellows. The lens would open, and the images would become clear and exciting. It did, for brief moments, make the high seem palpable to the audiences.

So I was up-and-down throughout “Limitless.” I enjoyed the fantasy aspects, and was impressed by certain technical tricks, but was turned off by the execution, the story, the main character, and the ultimate sloppy message. If you’re like me, you’ll be giving the film a ton of bad laughs.

 

I propose the following thesis: The geek lifestyle is a bridge, and not a destination. Allow me to elucidate:

 

I was recently, as is my want, discussing films with a friend. For the purposes of this essay, I shall call him Norman. Norman is an upbeat, tattooed young cove of about 21. He loves movies, and has seen all of the good geek standbys. He talked about “Army of Darkness,” “The Human Centipede,” and mentioned that he really loves old horror movies like “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” I intentionally failed to mention the fact that I was alive in 1984. I mentioned some recent films that I had really liked (“Rango” came up, and I mentioned my eagerness to see “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives”). It was then that he quickly demanded a list from me. He wanted to know my ten favorite movies of all time…

 

Now, I was born in 1978. I’m 32 years old as of this writing. I have been watching movies voraciously for most of my life, and I have been writing about them in some capacity (be in college newspaper, local rag, or online ‘blog) since 1996. I have seen thousands of films in my day. When I was 21, I probably could have given you a list of my ten favorite movies, but now I don’t think I have that talent anymore. At some point along the way, I lost my drive to stringently catalog the films I had seen in my mind. I no longer needed to adhere so closely to some immutable “greats.” I didn’t need to clump a group of ten together, and leave it there, untouched and untouchable, to act as a guidepost for my identity.

 

There is a tendency, I remember, in one’s geeky teen years, to not only collect the things you find great, but closely merge your identity with them. As a teen, I felt there was no better movie than “Army of Darkness.” It was an immutable fact. It was at the top. I quoted it relentlessly. As the years passed, though, and as I was exposed to more and more movies, I began to see “Army” as a great film, one that I will always feel nostalgia for, and will always enjoy watching, but one that would eventually be joined by good company. There was no longer a “top-10” list in my mind. There grew, in its place, a cloud of great films that were no longer ranked, but all generally great in their own rights.

 

As geeks, we tend to over-categorize our beloved movies. There’s seems to be, I have observed, an unwritten hierarchy of films in the geek mind. This is not a bad thing, as the geek experience has led many thousands of teenagers into sublime genre glory. The concept of The Geek has brought to the mainstream every single one of your favorite movies. “Star Wars,” “Evil Dead 2,” “The Dark Crystal,” “Terminator 2.” They’re all part of the geek cloud. But too many kids, I feel, as they reach their 20s, begin to stagnate. They have reached the geek level, and have indeed become open to all kinds of freaky genre films, but they have closed themselves off to reaching higher. They haven’t traversed those final few steps to The Greats. Too many teenagers have, I feel, reached a place where they can worship Peter Jackson, and then stopped looking for new things to enlighten them.

 

As a result, we have a generation can can be sat in front of a great film like “2001: A Space Odyssey” and kind of snort at it. We have all had that conversation with that teenager who has refused to watch anything before the year of their birth. They will see nothing in black & white, nothing in a foreign language, and silent films are way out of bounds.

 

It is our instinct, as their impromptu, self-appointed film teachers, to sit them in front of a great film, just so they’re exposed to something beyond “The Big Lebowski.” Sadly, in such a teaching exercise, we tend to go too far. You can’t sit down an uninitiated teenager in front of “L’Avventura” or “Breathless” and expect them to love it. “Eraserhead” is not a film for someone who’s only into “Battlestar Galactica.” It takes many years of appreciation to really see what Ozu was doing; he’s not going to be appreciated by someone who just discovered “Holy Grail.”

 

Here then, in addition to this little rambling essay, I propose ten films for the uninitiated. These are films that you can show to teenagers with relative confidence that they will love them, but will also, perhaps, open up their worlds to stuff beyond what they’re used to. These are gateway films. Films that will turn a run-of-the-mill teenage geek into a nascent lover of all great film. A True Geek. An expert.

 

“12 Angry Men”

1957, dir. Sidney Lumet

Twelve unnamed jurors, all played by stellar character actors, spend the entire film in one room, deliberating the case of a teenage boy who is poised to be executed for committing murder. We do not see the case, we do not see the trial. We only hear the 12 jurors’ reactions to what has been presented in court. At the film’s outset, 11 vote guilty, and one, resolute and doubting holdout (Henry Fonda) votes not guilty. By the film’s end, we see who has changed their mind and why. This is a film that, despite (or perhaps because of) its single setting and bloody-minded tenacity, draws in the most casual observer. It’s a film about crime, about pride, about ego, about the subtle interplay of conflicting personalities.

 

But, more than that, it’s singular and linear and intense. It’s so streamlined that it becomes easy to consume. It’s a film that was shown to my 7^th grade class back in the day, and one that all of my fellow 12-year-olds could get behind (well, except for that one kid who fell asleep). If the thought of a black-and-white film, set in one room, driven entirely by dialogue sounds alien to you, then I implore you watch “12 Angry Men.” It’ll get you. 

 

“The Man Who Laughs”

1928, dir. Paul Leni

Silent films are a tough sell to kids raised on talkies. Many people find the grainy look, the overacting, and the melodramatic storylines to be alienating. And while something like say, “Birth of a Nation” is an excellent and controversial film, full of revolutionary film techniques and debatable politics, it’s a difficult one to start with. In it’s stead, might I recommend the fantastic fable of Paul Leni’s “The Man Who Laughs.” This is a fantasy melodrama that takes place in an alternate past, where pirates regularly maraud, and scarred children grow up to be circus stars. It stars Conrad Veidt as Gwynplaine, who, as a child, has a smile permanently carved onto his face. It’s clear to see that the makeup was the central inspiration for The Joker in the Batman comics.

 

Gwynplaine grows up to be a circus star, and has secured the love of the beatific and blind Dea, although he is drawn to the lusty advances of the freak-loving Duchess Josiana. This is a film that reaches a level of dramatic ecstasy rarely seen in sound films, but still manages to keep the viewer within arms reach through its gorgeous visuals, wicked characters, and strange settings.

 

“Stray Dog”

1949, dir. Akira Kurosawa

It’s not hard to get teenagers into Japanese animated films, but it may be a struggle to get them to watch some classic Japanese live-action films. Rather than stick with the obvious “Seven Samurai” (which you should see), I will opt to recommend Kurosawa’s earlier cop drama “Stray Dog,” about a cop (Toshiro Mifune) spending a few sweltering days trying to locate his missing gun (called a “stray dog). Kurosawa may be best known for his samurai dramas, so it’s easy to forget that he was just as adept at the seedy underbelly of modern cities.

 

Yes, the film is a stellar character drama, full of mounting tensions and increasing shame, but I’d rather sell it on its crime elements, and its steadily increasing investigation. It’s an easy-to-follow story with some great exposure to the dirtier side of 1940s Japan. If you’re into anime, now that there is a great filmmaking tradition behind it, and I recommend that you start with “Stray Dog.”

 

“Rififi”

1955, dir. Jules Dassin

And if you like crime flicks, why not dip your toe in the vast world of French noir? There are scads of truly excellent French heist capers in the world, all of which are worth a look. For the purposes of this article, I will focus on the 1955 thriller “Rififi.” “Rififi” is about a cleverly pulled-off heist, and the subsequent fall from grace of the criminals. What’s notable about “Rififi,” though is it’s clever, 30-minute-long, dialogue-free heist scene in the middle, where they break into an apartment and… well, I’ll let you watch to find out. The heist itself, though, is hypnotic, and proves that you need not speed and screaming to make a scene exciting.

 

And, if you’re down with “Rififi,” go a step further, and checkout some of the films of Jean-Pierre Melville. Start with “Bob le Flambeur,” work your way through “Le Samourai,” and land on “Le Cercle Rouge.” find out where the famous gangster tropes all came from, and how they still stand the test of time. There is something kind of fun and personable about all these films. They may have driven crime plots, but they also feature some strangely effervescent characters. See how a real heist oughtta be pulled off.

 

“Rear Window”

1954, dir. Alfred Hitchcock

Alfred Hitchcock has a daunting body of work, and I can see how teens may be scared off. The tendency with film teachers is to start with his stylish and psychologically complex “Vertigo,” but I have seen too many people become soured by “Vertigo” to start there. Even some hardcore horror fans may be turned off by the overly clever plotting in “Psycho,” so I turn instead to 1954’s “Rear Window” as a means of introducing the master of suspense to people.

 

This is a film that is insular in its premise, and intriguing in its dramatic velocity. A man (James Stewart), recovering from a broken leg, has nothing better to do with his time than spy on his neighbors through his back window. Across his courtyard, he espies his neighbor (Raymond Burr) doing… something… something suspicious. He is helpless to change the events happening in front of him. I will not harp on the voyeuristic qualities of cinema here, but I will say that “Rear Window” is gloriously intense, and unbelievably terse. So-called “thrillers” these days are often lacking in tension. See what happens when it’s done correctly.

 

“Top Hat”

1935, dir. Mark Sandrich

Movie musicals, these days, seem to be dominated by juvenile and bland style exercises that barely register as films. While I will defend “Step Up 3D,” I can’t get behind films like “High School Musical 3,” “Nine” and “Chicago.” They have no joy. No brightness. No hard work and dancing virtuosity that once marked the genre. For that, you must go back, my kitties. Go back to the 1930s, when Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers were setting the screen on fire with their talent and unbeatable moves.

 

Of the Astaire-Rogers films, I would start with “Top Hat,” a cute little Depression-era film about rich people and mistaken identity. The story is a trifle, of course, but it’s fun and compelling, and the dancing, oh the dancing, it’s so very, very beautiful. Just watch up to the “Fancy Free” number, where Fred Astaire accidentally awakens Ginger rogers, sleeping on the floor below. He ends up sprinkling sand on the floor, and slow dances her back to sleep again. If you’re not hooked by then, then you have no heart.

 

“Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!”

1965, dir. Russ Meyer

I feel that this shouldn’t need hyping, as it’s full of violence, fights, loud cars, fast women, and several pairs of massive, massive breasts. But, oddly, the b-films of ages past seem to get the short end of the stick in many people’s imaginations. Know, hen, that Russ Meyer was making some of the best exploitation movies generations before you managed to sneak limp pseudo-sexy retreads on Cinemax. “Faster, Pussycat!” manages to be sexy, tough, weird, angry, and awesome all at once.

 

It follows the exploits of a trio of biker chicks (led by the recently late Tura Satana), and their run-ins with the various lecherous males in their paths. Some they want to seduce. Most they want to destroy. This is a film with a lurid story, leather clothing, and more attitude than any filmmaker these days can ever hope to muster. There was a time when action films were less about mindless movement, and more about actual ass-kicking. Why not start down that path with some of the best kick-ass chicks in moviedom?

 

“The Changeling”

1980, dir. Peter Medak

If you were born in the 1990s, and you’ve seen little before the year you were born, and you’re interested in horror, let me start you down the path to the past with this little creep-fest from 1980. “The Changeling” stars George C. Scott as a man staying in an historical mansion. Of course, he soon learns that the house might be haunted. Rather than take the haunting for granted, though (as so many haunted house pictures do), we see him slowly and methodically uncovering just how far the haunting extends, and just how it works. He is a practical man, and watching him snoop around corners and discovering creepy stuff is a terrifying experience.

 

I feel sorry for a lot of young horror fans, who were forced to grow up on paltry remakes and uncreative torture porn. They never had the pleasure of being truly frightened in the dark by old fashioned fears. To them, I recommend “The Changeling.” And then continue to go back. Start in the 1980s, when the slashers reigned, and head into the 1970s, when existential dread was the word of the day. Then keep going. See “The Haunting.” See “Cat People,” and also see…

 

“The Tingler”

1959, dir. William Castle

If you want an endlessly enjoyable corny horror flick, William Castle is your man. He was a schlockmeister of the highest order. His films were all glib and weird and kinda fun. He was the man who first understood that a good ad campaign could trump any quality in cinema. It was from this attitude that he invented infamous gimmicks like “Emergo” (a skeleton emerges from the screen, or special filters that allowed you to see hidden ghosts in “13 Ghosts.” For “The Tingler,” Castle notoriously hooked up electrical buzzers to random seats throughout the theater, giving innocent theater viewers a little “buzz” at appropriate moments.

 

“The Tingler” is about a doctor (Vincent Price) who is doing experiments in fear. He seems to want to find the biological source of the fear response, and is willing to inject himself with LSD (yes, LSD) to get it. It turns out that fear manifests itself as a creepy bug monster that grown on your spine. Soon it will be loose in the theater. Scream. Scream for your life. Horror, it turns out, can be fun too.

 

“Richard III”

1995, dir. Richard Loncraine

Shakespeare and film has always been a comfortable marriage, but still one that is seen more as a classroom exercise than an actual cinematic joy. Rather than start you with the penny arcade nightmare of Julie Taymor’s “Titus,” or Kenneth Branagh’s truly majestic “Hamlet,” might I introduce you to Sir Ian McKellan playing the mutated despot Richard III? Here is a film with a great cast (Robert Downy, Jr. shows up at one point), and an interesting way of approaching an ancient story, but still makes it quick and exciting and violent. McKellan chews scenery with glee as he limbers about the screen, offing his competitors and abusing animals.

 

Many students have said they have trouble with Shakespeare’s language. Here’s a film that allows you to understand not just the story of “Richard III,” but the actual words and poetry. This is not a patronizing, jejune style exercise like “Romeo + Juliet.” This is a poetic adaptation of a classic play.

 

 

Now that you’ve seen these ten, get back to me. I have dozens more. Perhaps soon, you’ll be on the path through mere geekdom, and ready to enter the realm of the Master Geek. The film lover. The true cineaste. The person who can cite Howard Hawks, John Ford, Yasujiro Ozu, Ingmar Bergman, Werner Herzog, Jean-Luc Godard, Marcel Carne, Jean Renoir, Sam Fuller, Herschel Gordon Lewis, Billy Wilder, Martin Scorsese, Ernst Lubitsch. You are ready for the Greats.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a film lover and sometime pretentious snot living in Los Angeles with his wife and his video collection. He maintains a ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! and is the occasional co-host of The B-Movies Podcast over at Crave Online. If you want some more film recommendations, just list what you like, and Witney will be happy to give you some new things to see.

In its look, Christopher Smith’s film “Black Death,” set in the early 15^th century, and following a group of hard-ass knights on a quest to rid the world of witchcraft, looks like another dull action-laden period piece in the line of equally dull features like “300” and “Centurion” and “King Arthur;” that is: the action scenes are cut so quickly and shot so haphazardly that you can’t really tell what’s going on in the film for long stretches. You can hear swords slicing tenderly through layers of human tendon, and you can see splatters of mud and blood all over the camera’s lens, but you can’t really get a feel for who is doing what to whom, nor can you discern any sort of geography. This is a problem with most action films of the day; they are too quickly edited, and the camera is too enthused to zip in and out of the action. When the action ramps up, I declare, that is a good time to get your camera to stay still.

 

In its feel, however, “Black Death” feels a lot like a Mario Bava film. Or perhaps a Dario Argento-scripted Euro-schlock film from the 1970s. And while it’s not as much wicked fun as one of those films, it does have a very bleak, anti-everything, European feeling to it (which is no wonder; its screenwriter Dario Poloni, is Italian). It’s a film with acres of rotting skin (it is about the bubonic plague), a healthy dose of magick, and a philosophy that seems to come down very hard on both Christians and Pagans equally. This is a film that may not be revolutionary in its thought processes, but, at the very least, has something on its mind.

Eddie Redmayne plays a novice named Osmund who is questioning his faith. He is torn between staying in the church (at the time of the Black Death, when the veracity of the church came under serious fire from the locals, which isn’t entirely based on fact, but whatever), and running off to live with his childhood sweetheart and have a family. When he asks God for a sign as what to do, Sean Bean appears in his life. Bean plays a knight named Ulric, and Ulric has been assigned to go to a village out in the boonies where there doesn’t appear to be any plague. Witchcraft is suspected. If the people are merely blessed, the knights are to leave them alone. If they are staying healthy by magical means, they are to be executed. Simple. Osmund decides to lead Ulric through the local marsh to the village.

 

Ulric is supposed to be a hero, I guess. But he is seen killing a woman in cold blood at one point. This scene is used to accentuate what a badass he is, but it comes across as largely unnecessary. In fact, all the knights (with names like Dalywag and Wolfstan) seem to come across as a dangerous mix of heroic badasses and insane, bloodthirsty savages.

 

When we finally get to the village, it does indeed have a creepy, cultish vibe. The village is run by the witchy-looking Carice Van Houten in a fright wig and a red dress. There is indeed no plague here, and the villagers are clearly up to something, but it’s unclear as to whether or not they want to kill or to indoctrinate the knights. It turns out that they have a serious anti-Christian agenda, and some stabbing occur in a lengthy trial sequence.

The film could be said to be a savvy allegory about the cycle of accusation that occurs in any time of crisis. One party will point a finger at another, and the other will, in turn, point right back for doing the pointing. And while the film comes down on a depressingly ambiguous note, the wrong people are killed, and souls are corrupted (which may sound dour enough!), it at least doesn’t get too preachy about any religious dogma (compare it to, say, the strident “Agora” from last year). If it has any philosophy behind it, its nihilism.

 

I think I can recommend this film, though. Despite its bleakness and confusing action, it, at the very least, has something clearly on its mind. For a modern film of ancient mayhem, that actually puts it very slightly ahead of its peers. If, however, the thought of ancient mayhem bores you, then “Black Death” will do nothing to distinguish itself.

  If you hadn’t guessed with my Imaginary Languages article here on Geekscape, you might know that I am an avid reader. I finally finished reading Rousseau this week, and next I’m taking on the daunting task of James Boswell’s The Life of Samuel Johnson. To take occasional breaks rest from the 18^th century, 1000-page tome, I’ll be reading chapters of V.C. Andrews’ lurid incest thriller Flowers in the Attic; as I was never a teenage girl, I feel it’s a footnote of literature that I need to catch up on. Whenever I see people reading in public, I find myself ogling their book, trying to discern what they’re reading.

 And when I see characters reading in movies and on TV, I’m also interested. It can say a lot about a character if he’s a horrible, shallow hedonist, but is later seen reading Albert Camus. Or if a blowhard intellectual bundles up with a copy of Ayn Rand. It can say a lot about someone if they choose to quote Friedrich Nietzsche (a practice I am guilty of). It’s especially interesting, though, if the character is reading an author or a book that has been invented for the sake of the story.

Here then is a list of 10 imaginary books that I wish I could look into.

10) Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie by: author unknown

From “Calvin and Hobbes”

 

To put it politely, Calvin, one of the title characters from Bill Watterson’s long-running comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes,” was a rambunctious kid. To put it more realistically, he was an unduly cynical hellion, who made his parents’ lives miserable, alienated his peers, hated his teachers, and who only had one friend, whom he would frequently fight with. He was obsessed with mayhem, dinosaurs, and summer vacation (as are all six-year-old boys), but was possessed of a mildly disquieting sense of anarchy that made for some unduly dark moments in the strip, but also lent it a maturity often unseen in the funny papers.

It should come as little surprise, then, that Calvin’s favorite book was something called Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie. The interior of the book was never shown in the strip, and only a few passages were read aloud, but with a title like that, you can tell that the book will be filled with absurd action, violent talking animals, and an explosion of unknown viscosity.

While I like to entertain fantasies of become a staid, Atticus Finch–like father someday, I know in my heart that I will likely be reading creepy and weird children’s books to my kid. A title like Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie would be way too good to pass up.

9) The First Encyclopedia of Tlön by: authors unknown

From Labyrinths

If it’s imaginary books you want (and you’re trying to steer clear of too many references to Nabakov), then you need look no further than the wondrous magical realism of Jorge Luis Borges. Borges, the award-winning Argentinian author, came up with such vast and complicated imaginary spaces, it should come as little surprise that he is responsible for such a large number of such intriguing imaginary fictions. This is the man who conceived of The Library of Babel, which contains not just every book ever written, but every book that could have possibly ever been written. This is a conceit that Neil Gaiman (as is his wont) ripped off wholesale for one of his own fantasy stories.

For the purposes of this article, I have selected Borges’ Encyclopedia of Tlön as the example of his work. In the short story “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius,” Borges details a vast conspiracy concocted by a shadowy cadre of intellectuals, attempting to construct a hazy epistemological hoax on the intelligentsia, by creating a fake, artificially aged book, detailing the history and society of an ancient civilization that never existed. The narrator of the short story has become obsessed with cataloguing the encyclopedia, even though he knows that it can’t possibly be true.

But, as the narrator investigates, he begins to find irrefutable proof that Tlön is a real place, and hard evidence begins to crop up. The narrator begins to go slightly mad, and Borges has made a mind-sticking point about the mutability of truth, and the ephemeral nature of all literary criticism. Anyone interested in fantasy literature should be familiar with Borges.

8) The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows by: Aristide Torchia

From “The Ninth Gate”

 

I don’t know why Roman Polanski’s 1999 thriller is so widely maligned in the nerd community. I find it to be tautly filmed, and loaded with interesting shop talk about the rare book trade (I’m a sucker for shop talk). It also has Johnny Depp convincingly playing a schlubby, unscrupulous rare book dealer who doesn’t believe in much, and will regularly rip people off for his own gain. The ending may seem non-committal, but the film is a great thriller from a master filmmaker. I encourage you to revisit it. It’s a cross between an adult Satan thriller from the 1970s and “Ghostbusters.”

The book at the center of the film is a volume, written in 1666 by the fictional author Aristide Torchia who may have, it is rumored, written The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows with a particularly unholy co-author. It is sought by the creepy book collector Boris Balkan (Frank Langella), and he hires Dean Corso (Depp) to find the three extant copies, and verify their authenticity.

It’s kind of a letdown that (without giving too much away) the secrets of the three books are not in the actual text, but in the creepy illustrations included throughout. But it’s quite a secret, and the visual comparison is fascinating to behold. I would love a copy of this book at my local library. I would feel simultaneously brainy for seeking out a rare book, and wickedly subversive for reading such an unholy tome. There’s also an awesome-looking pentagram on the cover.

7) The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism by: Emmanuel Goldstein

From 1984

I only want to read this book, because I have read 1984 and I know who Goldstein is, and what he represents. If you are not familiar with George Orwell’s seminal sci-fi classic, then do not read this particular entry, as I will give away vital plot details.

Winston Smith is not content with his life in his pseudo-communist-but-mostly-slavery middle-class existence, controlled minutely by the government, and monitored by the smiling face of Big Brother. He wishes secretly to live with The Proles across town, but hasn’t the gumption to defy society. He seems to find escape in a subversive book of political revolution by an unseen author named Emmauel Goldstein. Winston has heard of this Goldstein. He is the leader of a secret anti-government underground, and has managed to disseminate literature amongst the masses, including the dully-titled, but wickedly illegal book on oligarchical collectivism.

Winston reads the book, and his mind is inflamed with new ideas. It’s not until later (and much too late) that he realizes the true nature of the book. The book was written by the government itself to weed out any potential rebels, and is regularly planted near at-risk citizens as a test of their loyalty. If they turn it in, they are happy. If they read it, they are brainwashed. I would love to thumb through a book I know to be a lie. See how the truths in it are manipulated (if they are manipulated), and how the government uses the existence of the book as a tool, rather than its content.

Maybe it’s just the anarchist in me.

6) The Misery series by: Paul Sheldon

From Misery

Every author wants to be famous. Every famous author fears his fans. And no fan is scarier than Annie Wilkes from Stephen King’s horror story Misery, about a fan who manages to hide her favorite author in a cabin in the woods following a freak car wreck. Annie proceeds to heap praise upon Paul Sheldon for what he has written, and actually begins abusing, torturing and mutilating him when she doesn’t like the way the Misery books are going.

By all reports, the Misery books are kind of fluffy Victorian romances, not worth too much in terms of literary value, but exciting and moving in the populist sense (the same could be said of King’s work). If any work of literature, though, can move a single fan to extremes of madness, then I’m interested in reading it. Annie Wilkes read the books and became obsessed to the point of torture. Can the book have the same effect on me? On you? Wouldn’t you love to see?

It’s this kind of thinking that has drawn me to books like J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye (which was famously in the libraries of several famous murderers, and is, actually a stirring and excellent piece of literature in itself), and Adolf Hitler’s infamous Mein KampfMisery books have the actual power to think like Annie Wilkes. (which is a dull and repetitive book of specious, sloganeering political theory). Let’s see if the

5) In the Mouth of Madness by: Sutter Cane

From “In the Mouth of Madness”

 

And speaking of books with the capability of altering your thought processes, why not a book that can alter your very body and, perhaps, bring about the end of humanity as we know it?

Sutter Cane is a horror author who is modeled after Stephen King, but writes more like H.P. Lovecraft. His stories are all about slimy things lurking in the dark, causing people to go mad, and, sometimes, turn into inhuman murderous creatures. There’s also a rumor that Cane’s work has had an… effect… on some of his less stable readers. People have been clamoring for his latest book, In the Mouth of Madness, which is said to be his best.

John Carpenter’s 1995 film is my favorite of his, and one of my favorite horror movies of all time. It’s a creepy film about the effect that art can have on the mind, and how it can drive people mad. The film deals with how a populist horror book may have the potential to bring about the end of the world with its ideas. It’s not necessarily a magical book of spells (you’ll see one of those below), but a book so well-written, and from such an unholy source, that it can change you just by spearing in front of you.

Sure, I may be a monster at the end of my reading, and I may enter a new age of Stygian, inhuman evil, but, man what an excellent read.

4) The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by: Agnes Nutter

From Good Omens

 

Agnes Nutter was a witch who lived in England in the 17^th century. Even by witch standards, she was something of a weirdo, preferring polite conversation over hexes and bats’ wings. She wrote, as so many witches do, a book prophecying the End Times. The book was a horrible financial flop, due to its unspectacular predictions of the future, and its peculiar writing style. The Book was lost to history for centuries until a bookish angel tracked it down by chance in a surprisingly holistic bookshop in England. It turns out that Agnes Nutter is the only prognosticator to have been 100% accurate.

I am very fond of the high-falutin’ absurdity of Terry Pratchett, and he is in fine form in his cult comedy satire of “The Omen” called Good Omens, co-authored by Neil Gaiman. It’s a book that takes all the exciting supernatural elements of The Rapture, and gleefully sets them on ear. The antichrist is perhaps a perfectly normal boy. The Hellhound is a cute li’l puppy. The four horsemen of the apocalypse are followed around by a quartet of wannabe metalheads, and the agents of both God and the Devil have decided that the end of the world is not necessarily a good thing. It’s a funny book marked by Pratchett’s love of fantastic satire, and Gaiman’s popular penchant for blending disparate literary references.

 

3) The Works of Kilgore Trout

From Breakfast of Champions

A prescient and hard-working sci-fi author, Kilgore Trout is the archetypal unappreciated genius. His stories are creative and touching, and use science fiction to satirize the hubristic foibles of mankind, and send up the very contractual rules of civilization. His stories have also rarely been published in book form, instead cropping up in the margins of various pornographic novels, sold under the counter at the seedier porn shops. Here is a gregarious and kooky sci-fi author whose brilliant works cannot be found except by passionate fans and career masturbators.

Kurt Vonnegut was, himself, an author who wryly used strangely-conceived sci-fi ideas to point out the melancholy and humorous self-destructive tendencies of mankind. Our memories jump about, so he created a character who physically jumps about through time in Slaughterhouse Five. He felt that mankind would destroy itself, so he envisioned a misplaced Armageddon in Cat’s Cradle. He saw that the bonds of family make us somewhat freaky sometimes, so be thought up a sibling mutant pair in Slapstick. And, most notably, he conceived a somewhat wonky alter ego in Kilgore Trout, and author who wrote similarly to Vonnegut, but who was bold enough to follow through on some truly daring sci-fi conceits.

Finding a work of Trout’s in a dirty magazine, forgotten by time, would be like unearthing a lost portion of the Rosetta Stone. It would be a small key into the wisdom of the universe, that used genre fun and wacky humor to tear back the layers of reality around you. That it was found in such an inappropriate place would only add to its appeal. Let’s see if we can track down the Trout work in the world.

2) The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by: Various authors

From The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book, and has supplanted the Encyclopedia Galactica as the most popular source of information in the galaxy. It not only will educate you in the ways of the cosmos, revealing the meaning (or lack thereof) of traversing the stars, but will also recommend good bars and restaurants, fine dining, supernatural entertainment, and the best places to stow away on a Vogon ship. This is information you require.

Douglas Adams’ seminal sci-fi comedy book is well-known and well-loved by geeks the world over. But the book within the book is a genuinely brilliant conceit. This is no mere magic book of infinite knowledge, this is a practical field guide for the worlds-weary traveler. Only the traveling you get to do is in spaceships, and the hot nightlife is with space aliens on distant planets. Again: this is information you require.

What better fantasy book is there for the embittered Earth-bound human seeking escape? I want a copy of this book so bad. And then I would stock up on foods, my Babelfish, my comfortable shoes, and, naturally, my towel, and I would gather up some close friends, and hot the first available space scow off of this rock. This is a book that offers up secrets leading to nothing but low-rent interstellar adventure.

1) The Necronomicon by: Abdul Alhazred

From the works of H.P. Lovecraft

The grand grimoire of all fictional literature (at least for geeks), the Necronomicon is the spell book to end all spell books… quite literally. It is a book of forbidden knowledge, foolishly penned by a mad Arab, and passed from hand to hand in dark circles of crazed, apocalypse-obsessed mystics and cultists. If all the instructions are followed correctly, one may open a rift in the actual fabric of space, and unleash the indifferently destructive Elder Ones who once dwelled on Earth, and only await to return to their rightful home. Humanity will perish. Those who are not killed, will go mad.

And all just by reading.

H.P. Lovecraft is well known in the geek community (and in growing circles of literary repute) as the master of fantastic fiction. His tales paint a bleak and horrifying portrait of the universe as a cold, godless place, populated by aliens who would only destroy people, and mongoloid humans who would be stupid enough to summon them. They’re all peppered with some of the pearliest prose you’re likely to find in a horror story. Reading Lovecraft makes you want to recite his words aloud, tasting them in your mouth.

The Necronomicon has cropped up in pop culture here and there, and has gained a kind of mythic status in the world. Indeed, there are real copies of the book floating around out there, so you can read the tales, try the invocations, and, at the very least, pretend to be a mad cultist with the unwashed secrets of the universe, slowly boring holes through your sanity. This is a book that roundhouse kicks your mind with a green, slimy tentacle into a trash can of horrified misunderstanding. And you love every second of it.

Let’s get reading!

Witney Seibold is a writer living in the United States with his wife and his laidback attitude. He has spent several years catching up on his classics, and may be described as officially “well-read,” although that is a status constantly up for debate. When he’s not writing about obscure pop culture artifacts, he maintains a somewhat well-written ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years, where you can read his film reviews from the past several years. He has also recently become the co-host of The B-Movies Podcast over at Crave Online. Seek out his work. It will turn your mind backwards.  

Clearly, the sight of a chameleon in a Hawaiian shirt, and being voiced by Johnny Depp, is supposed to invoke thoughts of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” That’s where we start…

Gore Verbinski‘s animated feature “Rango” is being touted as a film for children, but it’s one of those refreshing children’s films that feels like it was made with adults in mind. This is not one of those insufferable talking-animal, CGI-animated, pop-culture-exploiting, pseudo-comedies that infects our fair land’s multiplexes (I’m thinking of anything from “Shark Tale” to “Madagascar” to, yes, even “Shrek”). This is a CGI-animated film that actually has a good deal of character, a point of view, and a quirky filmmaker who is clearly following his passions.

 

When you look at a stylish, stylized action film like, say “300,” you get the feeling that there’s no passion behind the material; clearly the director is trying to make the film look as flashy as possible, and leans so heavily on style that all palpable, adult thought and much-needed cogency seem to fall by the wayside. Conversely, when you look at stylish, stylized action film like “Kill Bill,” you sense that the filmmaker has a personal interest in the style; in the case of “Kill Bill,” Tarantino was using his style to make a larger point about the way cinema can be used. The style is the substance. “Rango,” I am pleased to report, is a stylish pastiche more in the vein of Tarantino and a mindless fluffy kids’ film. This is a film you will enjoy more than your children do. When “Rango” makes references to things like The Man With No Name, Kim Novak, Hunter S. Thompson (who actually makes an animated cameo), and “Chinatown,” you get the definite sense that they were included because the filmmaker thought they were genuinely interesting things, and not included for the sake of a cutesy joke.

 

But to the film:

 

Depp plays the voice of a nameless chameleon who falls out of a car, and finds himself lost in the Mojave desert. This chameleon is a bit off; he’s clearly been locked up in his glass case for too long, as his only friendships seem to be with inanimate objects. He is obsessed with acting, even though he has never had an audience. You get the feeling (through an extended isolated opening sequence) that this chameleon has likely never spoken to another animal. When he wanders into the town of Dirt, he is asked who he is. On the fly, he invents an identity for himself. Of course, the identity he invents is that of a badass, hero type who once killed seven bad guys with a single bullet. He dubs himself “Rango.”

The politics in Dirt are a bit sketchy. The animals use water as currency, and they’re in the middle of a horrible drought. The town’s mayor, a tortoise played by Ned Beatty, is an old soul, but is clearly modeled after John Huston in “Chinatown,” so you know he’s up to something sinister. After accidentally killing a hawk (!), Rango is appointed sheriff of this here, one-desert-chicken-burg, and is appointed the task of tracking down the water.

 

Something I liked about “Rango” was that the feckless and compulsively lying hero was never really called on his shit. He’s a blowhard, yes. But he’s not a deceiver. His charm and confidence (and no small amount of sheer dumb luck) keep his heroic in the eyes of the people; the film is free of those horribly orchestrated “comic” moments where the hero makes a total ass of himself in front of everyone, and still slides by on – I dunno, mass hypnosis? This is a film that bothers instead, to capture a tone. This is a kind of dark film, full of death and threats of betrayal, but is still infused with some whimsy. If it resembles anything, it’s “The Secret of NIMH.”

 

It took a fellow critic to point this out to me (hi, William!), but Rango also represents an interesting existential dilemma as well: If you have no identity, and you are a blank slate, you may choose to live your life however you see fit. Our hero chameleon chooses to be a hero, and acts to live up to it. Is this not the core of existentialism?

There’s also a wonderful moment of pure surrealism in “Rango” involving a quest to find water, and a series of slumping, spiky, walking Joshua trees that look like something out of a Dali painting. Watching the little chameleon following these peculiarly monstrous flora, shuffling through the desert sands is a singlual and dream-like experience.

 

This film also has an excellent cast. Harry Dean Stanton appears as a blind, bank-robbing mole. Bill Nighy plays a wickedly awesome rattlesnake (who not only has a Lee Van Cleef hat and mustache, but bares a rotating Gatling gun where his rattle ought to be). Alfred Molina plays a Mexican armadillo who dispenses wisdom. Isla Fisher plays the hard-workin’ desert moll-slash-love interest. And Timothy Olyphant appears as a Clint Eastwood-like spirit.

I predict that “Rango” will have a small, passionate cult in a few years. Check back with me then. See if I’m right.

 

Why just dream about getting a lapdance from Nomi Malone, when you can actually get in a car or on a plane, and actually visit the strip club where she worked. Why dream about some of the RR Diner’s famous cherry pie, when you can actually go to Washington and taste some? And why only hear the legend of Orson Welles eating his weight in hot dogs, when Hollywood is only one difficult car trip away, and you may actually sit in the chair where Welles put them away, dreaming of, perhaps one day, matching both his talent and his girth.

 

Geeks have always spent years tracking down the sacred Meccas of their passions. Whether it be alien-obsessed nuts trying to track down Area 51, or Lincoln aficionados attending a play at Ford’s Theater, we have always wanted to be in the place our heroes once stood, and absorb the wonder, hoping, in our pleasure-saturated brains, that we can perhaps incorporate some of the magic into our beings.

 

For those of you keen on road trips, and are looking for a geek holiday, may I your humble journalist, suggest the following ten places to visit? Go. Become more than a fan. Try to be a part of history.

 

Abbey Rd., Westminster

Whether or not you’re a music nut, it can probably be agreed that you do like much of The Beatles’ catalogue, that you likely own at least one Beatles record, and that you can appreciate the sizable impace that the band had on the world of popular music. Even hardcore Elvis fans, or party-boys keen on The Rolling Stones agree: The Beatles are something to emulate, love and dig.

 

If you should find yourself in England, may I suggest you go to Westminster, and seek out the famous tourist destination, just outside the British offices of EMI music? It was here, of course, that The Beatles posed for the cover of one of their most famous albums, casually strolling across the street. What was an idea thought up on the fly, and hastily shot by a record producer, became the cover of “Abbey Road,” and music fans the world over have been trekking to this crosswalk ever since.

 

You may feel like a mook, posing for a photo like a common tourist, trying to look just like your favorite Beatle, as you stroll across Abbey rd., but the temptation to do so is far to great to resist. And the crosswalk has even been decalred a local landmark by the local township, so it’ll be protected for decades to come. Even if you can’t make it to England, you can at least check up on the intersection from time to time by visit the following website: http://abbeyroad.com/visit/, where there is a 24-hour live webcast of the intersection

 

The Future Birthplace of Captain Kirk

Riverside, IA is notable to “Star Trek” fans the world over as being the future birthplace of Captain Kirk. What started as a casual passing in the TV show, grew into an entire tourist bonanza for this sleepy little Iowa town, and they have erected a lovely monument where they predict, on March 22^nd, 2228, James Tiberius Kirk will be born.

 

While standing next to the marker and trying to somehow absorb Kirk’s blustery confidence and haphazard machismo can be a grand trip in an of itself, you might want to visit Riverside in late June, when the town hosts its annual, citywide “TrekFest” Star Trek Convention. Imagine an entire city, populated mostly by Trek fans, and staffed by indifferent and angry teenagers who hate “Star Trek.” That sounds like a vacation to me.

 

Riverside has its own website as well, where you can learn all the local history, and try to track down the best diners.

 

Visit this site to learn more about the sleepy town when it’s not overrun by Trekkies: http://riversideiowa.org/

 

Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

There are no sites to visit. There are no markers to see. It’s just a lovely little resort town in the middle of snowy Wisconsin. There are annual snow sculpting competitions and ice skating in the winter, and plenty of watersports in the summer. There are some nice hotels, and some great restaurants.

 

But, for geeks, this town represents something profound, something great. This was the town where legendary geek god Gary Gygax was born. Gygax, for those who are sadly uninitiated, was the founder and creator of Dungeons & Dragons, the first Rolw-Playing Game to take the world by storm. If you have ever played an RPG of any type, online or otherwise, you owe a debt to Gary Gygax and his obsessions with fantasy, medieval lore, gameplaying conceits, and new shapes of dice.

 

While his homes are still standing in Lake Geneva, there are no tourist sites that I could find that would take you y them. I suppose it will have to do to stand in the middle of town, or go out on the lake, close your eyes, and try to imagine flying, fire-breathing monsters overhead, and how they burst into the popular consciousness from right where you are sitting.

 

Here’s the town’s website: http://lakegenevawi.com/

Skywalker Ranch

It was built in Marin country, CA in 1978 to George Lucas’ specifications, and contains 3000 acres of beautiful land, an underground parking lot, a restaurant, a racquetball court, a man-made lake (Lake Ewok), an observatory, and its own private movie theater called The Stag. If any one of us geeks had enough money, I think this is how we’d spend it as well.

 

Skywalker Ranch was built from the money made from “Star Wars,” and serves as a retreat for Lucas’ filmmaker friends. It’s like having a private cabin in the woods, but the cabin is a mansion, and it’s attached to its own private township that you also own. Lucas reportedly doesn’t live on Skywalker Ranch, which only proves that he has more money than he knows what to do with.

 

Skywalker Ranch is not open to the public, and you may only enter by special invitation from Lucas himself. If you have been, you are part of an elite circle. If you have not, well, its location Nicasio, CA is well known, and I encourage the passionately nerdy anarchists to break into the ranch, if only for the story of being thrown out by security. “I was once arrested for breaking into Skywalker Ranch” is a surefire pickup line at Comic-Con.

 

Arrange a legal tour here: http://www.insideskywalkerranch.com/skywalker-ranch-tour.htm

 

Club 33

And speaking of super-elite California tourist destinations…

 

Club 33 is the only place on the grounds of Disneyland (in Anaheim, CA) where you can be served alcohol. You cannot enter unless you are a member. You can only become a member if you buy a membership. A membership, at last tally was $7500 initially, and $2250 each year thereafter. This is not a club for the casual Disney fan. This is a club for the outright, balls-to-the-wall Disneyland fanatic.

 

It is located in New Orleans Square, right around the entrance of Pirates of the Caribbean. It looks like just another faux storefront that are everywhere in Disneyland, but contains an elite, ultra-rich drinking class inside. The interior has been photographed for their website, and it is reportedly modeled exactly off of a Parisian hotel. They don’t have mere Disney drink, but are rumored to be stocked with $10o0 bottles of wine, $90 shots of Remy Martin, and the finest beers on tap. They hire only the most expert mixologists to make your drinks.

 

If you are an experienced drinker (and not a wannabe teenager who drink bright blue concoctions you had to steal from Ralph’s), then Club 33 is your place to infiltrate. It is an ambition of mine to somehow get inside, either by becoming extremely wealthy, befriending a member, or breaking in outright.

 

Visit the website here: http://www.disneylandclub33.com/

 

Twede’s Cafe

North Bend, WA is well known to TV fans as Twin Peaks. David Lynch’s seminal TV series has a stirringly devoted cult, and fans the country over have made treks to North Bend to drink some coffee and eat of damn fine cherry pie at this little, real-life diner, now called Twede’s. While you may not encounter and backwards-speaking dwarfs, or doomed high school cheerleaders, you can still have a nice meal, and pretend that Agent Cooper or Harry Turman will walk in at any moment.

 

The diner knows about its reputation, and has converted itself into quite the tourist trap over the years. It sells “Twin Peaks” merchandise, has a “Twin Peaks” painting on the exterior, and even offers “Twin Peaks” themed meals. Not since I visited the Baghdad Cafe has a resaurant so blindly banked on its show biz connection.

 

This may turn off some visitors, but, seeing as you would indeed be a tourist upon visiting, it might be better to sit back, enjoy the chintziness of the place, and enjoy your pie. Take some coffee with you. Ask the waitress if there’s a fish in the percolator. If she gets the joke, give her a big tip.

 

Visit their site here: http://twedescafe.com/

 

Cheetahs

On the outskirts of Las Vegas, NV is a largely unremarkable strip club called Cheetahs. The dancers are the usual attractive topless women you’d find in any reasonably upscale strip club in any big city. The restrooms have a porn DVD vending machine. The music is better than the usual strip club bump ‘n’ grind, as they prefer to go with mellower reggae jams. There are back rooms where you can get specialty lap dances.

 

What’s especially notable about Cheetahs, though, is that it was where Nomi Malone worked in the legitimate American classic “Showgirls.” this was where Nomi gave her epileptic lapdance to Zack while Cristal Connors looked on. This was where Al threatened girls backstage. This is where Elizabeth Berkeley had to lick a metal pole. That metal pole is still there.

 

Cheetahs has not changed at all since “Showgirls” was filmed there in 1994. The stage is in the same place, the couches look the same (although I’m sure they have since been reupholstered several times), and the arranged sexy dances are the same. I went there myself a few years ago and my girlfriend was good enough to buy me a lapdance. It was more than just fun. It was sublime.

 

Visit the website here: http://www.cheetahslv.net/

 

Castle Stalker

Castle Stalker is out in the marshes of Scotland, in Argyll. It’s not near any central township, and it stands, alone and aloof, on a small island out in the middle of a loch. It is square and forbidding, and even a little bit cute, as it doesn’t have the grand majesty of, say The Duke of Marlborough’s castle (where Branagh’s “Hamlet” was filmed). To get to the castle itself, one must wait until low tide, and slog across a muddy landbridge, and it is only open to the public at certain time of the year. I can’t imagine the hardships suffered to build this castle.

 

But, for geeks the world over, it would be worth it to say that they visited The Castle Aaaaauuugggh from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” This was the place that those legendary bad boys of British comedy filmed the climax of their indispensable classic. Given the opportunity, which of us wouldn’t stand on the battlements of this castle, shouting absurd insults in a French accent? Or merely pound on the door below, demanding to be let in to look at the Holy Grail?

 

Like the RR Diner, The castle has been converted into a tourist destination, but one of a higher class than the chintzy American type; evidently the castle offers re-enactments of the Battle of Loch Linnhe. The history is daunting. The comedy is palpable. The destination, perfect.

 

Visit the website here: http://www.castlestalker.com/

 

The Portmeirion Hotel

And if you’re already in the isles, head south the Wales, and sped a week at the lovely Portmeirion Hotel. The hotel is not so much a single bulding, as it is an entire village, complete with courtyard, tennis courts, sea views, and an actual castle on the hotel grounds. It is isolated and, according to most report, a bit eerie. This little eerie village… Almost as if you’re a prisoner.

 

Yes, The Portmeirion was the location of the infamous Village from the cult British TV series “The Prisoner.” It was where Patrick McGoohan ran across the lovely brick walkways, avoiding cameras, conspiring against Number Two, and evading the dangerous inflatable Rovers that made escape impossible. The show was filmed in 1967, but the hotel has remains largely the same for decades.

 

Well, the owners of the hotel have been good enough to keep it up, and have added some of the most wonderful luxuries to the hotel, making it an expensive and posh destination. While the interiors of “the Prisoner” were filmed on soundstages, and the rooms don’t look like they did in the show, the owners of the hotel have converted Number 6’s suite into a “Prisoner”-themed gift shop. If you’re a fan of “The Prisoner” this is your Mecca.

 

Visit the website here: http://www.portmeirion-village.com/

 

Pink’s

Now come back to L.A. Go to Hollywood. Drive up La Brea until you’re nearly at Hollywood Blvd. On your left, you’ll see an unremarkable-looking fast foot joint with a line around the corner. Most anytime day or night, there will be a line at this place. The entire block will smell like cooking hot dogs and frying potatoes. The menu will be visible from the street, and you’ll see weirdly named specialties like The Guadalajara Dog and the Chicago Polish. They also offer pastrami and mushroom cheeseburgers.

 

This is Pink’s, one of the most infamous fast food joints in all of Los Angeles. Why is place notable? It’s hard to say. This is not the site of a celebrity death like the Viper Room on Sunset, nor is it where any famous movie was filmed. It is however, reputed as being the place where movies stars of the ’40s, ’50s, and ’60s went to get their low-rent eats when there were done filming for the day. Orson Welles is reputed to have eaten 15 chilidogs in one sitting there. Bruce Willis proposed to Demi Moore there. Michael J. Fox, before he was working regularly, is said to have used it as his office.

 

Are the hot dogs as good as the reputation? According to visitors, they are very good, if perhaps not perfect. The small eating area indoors features autographed pictures from the hundreds of stars who have eaten there. The spirit of Los Angeles can be absorbed through the fat-laden air of Pink’s. It’s a place to check out.

 

Visit the site here: http://www.pinkshollywood.com/

 

 

Witney Seibold is a well-traveled fellow who lives in L.A. with his gorgeous wife, his offbeat books, his solid video and music collections, and his festering opinions about movies and popular media. You can read a collection of his film reviews on his website, Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, where he not only pontificates endlessly on films he’s seen, but also posts links to Geekscape, and to CraveOnline where he co-hosts the B-Movie podcast.

               Philippe Robert’s “Resonnances,” a 2006 feature film from France, was released on DVD from Synapse films a few months back (and it was only my sloth and seemingly endless capacity for dawdling that prevented me from writing about it until just now), and it caused a minor uproar in the online horror community, as it was reputed to be a perfectly decent little thriller that managed to be tense and creative, despite its shoestring budget, and relatively low profile. I have watched the film, and I can finally attest to its quality. For a film that clearly had little money, it did manage to have some really nice practical special effects, and some decent kills. Though, this is not one of those low-budget horror films that uses its limited resources to its advantage (something like “The Blair Witch Project” springs to mind). Also, like many a low-budget horror film, despite its pedigree or vintage, it’s still not very cogent, the characters aren’t very interesting, and the acting is bad. Those things, however, are not necessarily sought after in many genre films, so, if you’re not too picky, “Resonnances” (which can pretty much translate as “Tremors” for our purposes) may strike you in the right way, and prove to be a perfectly entertaining flick.

 

                The dramatis-personae-cum-monster-fodder is a quintet of twentysomething hipsters, all played by non-professionals, who are each defined by the basest of character traits. One guy is obsessed with sports, for instance. Another is the only one with a girlfriend. Most notably, there’s a nerdy type (Vincent Lecompte) who is obsessed with video games, and who is, I presume, meant to be the hero, even though he’s as shallow and as venal as his peers. He plays “Centipede” on his Game Boy, even when he’s lost in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night, and there’s a monster after him.

 

                After a confounding opening scene, in which we see a monster kill a girl back in the 17^th century French countryside, we cut to our heroes. This film has a three-pronged story, so pay attention. Our heroes are all gearing up for a party. Their dialogue is borderline insufferable, and largely disposable. “Resonnances,” does, however, spend a good 20 minutes of screentime setting up these people. I appreciate the effort, even if the result wasn’t stellar. Three of the boys pile into a VW Beetle, and trek out into the night. I don’t precisely recall where they were going, only that they were chagrined that the nerd character didn’t want to flirt with the nerd girl at that party back there, and *tee hee* isn’t he a dweeb?

 

                Three prongs: 1) There’s some talk of an ancient ghost who used to haunt this road, and sometimes even appears to motorists to this very day. 2) A radio report informs us that there is a serial killer on the loose in the area. 3) Thanks to the film’s intro, we know that there’s an ancient alien carnivorous subterranean squid lurking in the woods below. Ghost. Killer. Squid.

 

                Sure enough, they stop at a service station and pick up a dandyish hitchhiker who is, of course, the serial killer on the loose (we see the owner of the service station hanging upside-down with his head in a bucket). Soon thereafter, they see the ghost, and accidentally drive off the road. They fall into the woods below where the underground squid begins to pick them off one at a time. I did like that, though the film used some rudimentary CGI for many of its effects, it was equally good about sticking to the better-looking practical effects that so strongly marked the better B films of my adolescence. The scene in which the VW Beetle plummets off of a cliff looks like they actually dangled a real car off of a real cliff. What’s more, when the underground monster burrows angrily toward our heroes (looking uncannily like Bugs Bunny when he burrows), director Robert thought to use actual miniatures, and it looks really cool (despite the comparison I just made to Bugs Bunny).

 

                At this point, comparisons to Ron Underwood’s 1990 monster flick “Tremors” are inevitable. The monster is essentially the same as in that film, as it can burrow quickly, can only sense its prey by listening to vibrations through the ground, and tends to snatch its victims with tentacles that pop up out of the ground like whack-a-moles. It’s not as graceful as “Tremors,” nor as fun, sadly. But it does, at least, play by the same rules, and forces the characters to stay quiet and stay off the ground at inopportune moments.

 

                At this point in the film, the serial killer starts acting up, flirts with another male in the party (making for some largely inappropriate gay panic jokes), and the weapons and accusations begin to fly. Some of the female characters also begin appearing in the woods (it’s never really made clear how they got there, although it’s implied that they saw the same ghost the boys did), but since the women are so indistinguishable in this film, I have to admit I lost track of who was alive and who was getting shot through the head.

 

                There are no twists to speak of, and the film progresses how you would expect.

 

                So “Resonnances” is not very original and not very dramatic and, on the whole, not a great film. But there is something to be said for its devotion to its monstery premise, its international pedigree, and its refusal to do the cutesy, self-referential thing. I have seen too many straight-to-video horror films that are all too convinced of their cleverness and “humor.” “Resonnances,” at the very least, makes no pretenses to be anything but an exciting, legitimate B film. And, in that regard, it is.

 

Predictions for the 2011 Oscar Ceremony

Article by: Witney Seibold

 

The Academy Awards are this Sunday. I’ve never seen the Academy Awards as any sort of legitimate measure of a film’s quality (I can rattle off many Best Picture winners that were just plain mediocre), but I’m still a sucker for the ceremony, and I watch it on television every year, usually surrounded by friends who are just as willing to snark at the actors, and, thanks to an idea by my lovely wife, shoot suction darts at the parts of the ceremony we hate (the interpretive dance numbers being a particularly hated part of any show).

 

I’ve also made all of my predictions, and will win or lose my Oscar pools accordingly. But, more fun than predicting the winners of the Oscars (especially this year, with so many shoo-ins), is predicting the events of the 4-hours-plus television extravaganza. Forget whether or not Hailee Steinfeld will take home a trinket. I want to see what horrible thing Renee Zellweger is wearing when she accidentally trips onstage.

 

Here then is my list of predictions for the Oscar telecast.

The host and hostess will be late to the ceremony. This year, in what is a blind and desperate grab for a youth audience, the Oscars are being hosted by the lovely Anne Hathaway, and the lovely James Franco, two of the hottest young actors currently working. As the ceremony begins, however, Anne and James will both be absent from the stage. The Academy orchestra will attempt to keep things moving for a bit, and a montage will be played, but it will take a scrambling investigation to find them. They will be found behind the Kodak theater, not completely undressed, having sex up against the side of a limo. It’s unclear why they needed the Oscar statuette for the sound mixing.

 

The sound will cut out ten minutes in, and ABC will be unable to pick it back up for a full three minutes. They decide to mix in speeches from previous years’ Oscar telecasts. When Melissa Leo gives her acceptance speech, she will sound like Adrian Brody.

The performances for Best Song will all be performed at once, getting them out of the way quickly, which is a good move on the Academy’s part. Oddly, though, Randy Newman will not be available to preform his song from “Toy Story 3,” and will have selected the reclusive experimental musician Scott Walker to perform in his place. The song will be transformed into a 14-minute free-form jazz odyssey. For some reason, the cameraman will keep cutting to Natalie Portman.

When Diane Lane takes the stage to present the Oscar for Best Cinematography, her dress will come unsnapped in the back, and she’ll flash the audience. Ever the professional, she’ll give her presentation, clutching her dress to her chest. She’ll be giggling the entire time. She’ll be a little bit drunk, and the entire audience will be charmed. Werner Herzog will take the stage next, and try to flash the audience as well. He will be audibly booed.

 

Jack Nicholson will be absent from the ceremony, and the dialogue written for him will seem awkward when delivered to a seat-filler. All references to Jack Nicholson will result in a cutaway to said random seat-filler. By the end of the ceremony, the man will begin to assume that he is Jack Nicholson, and will start talking to Jack’s co-stars as if he knows them. By the time Best Picture is announced, he will have been escorted from the building.

In a disastrous miscalculation, the Academy decides to have a video montage devoted to Movie Villains, and will only show clips of Al Pacino as Shylock in “The Merchant of Venice.” The room will scream in uproar, and the clip will be stopped. Days later, a story will emerge about a spiteful intern who switched the tapes as a prank, and that he’s not really an anti-Semite. Doubts will be heaped upon him for the rest of his life. He will also become the star of an FX reality show.

 

Another montage will be devoted to video games in movies. It will be the only time films like “Resident Evil: Extinction,” and “The Wizard” will be mentioned with awe.

 

Renee Zellweger will be wearing a lovely bright red, backless dress. Halle Berry will be wearing the same dress. They will present an award together, and make some unscripted jibes at one another regarding the bad etiquette of wearing matching outfits. Later in the ceremony, they will be seen violently fistfighting in the wings. A bottle will be smashed and shoved into Halle Berry’s midsection. Zellweger will be struck very hard in the head with the Oscar for best animated short. Halle Berry will win the fight, although Zellweger will have broken her arm.

Nicole Kidman will lose for her role in “Rabbit Hole,” and will actually begin crying in the audience. Tommy Lee Jones, seated nearby, will arise to comfort her. He’ll talk about how acting is a grand craft, and awards mean little. They’ll reminisce about their days together on the set of “Batman Forever.” Jim Carrey will join in giving sympathy, as will Val Kilmer. The quartet will leave the ceremony early to have a comforting dinner at Canter’s, where they’ll talk about working together again, and maybe writing a screenplay together, the four of them. They’ll never write the screenplay.

Jean-Claude Van Damme will present the award for best editing. He will suffer a terrible bout of stage fright, and will remain stunned and silent for his entire time onscreen. He will later explain that he was giving his lines telepathically. He also says it explains why he announced that “Gattaca” won Best Editing this year. No one will believe him.

Gaspar Noe will present the award for Best Foreign Language film. While he is calmly giving his intro, Lars Von Trier will charge onto stage and stab him. He will shout some screed in Danish, and announce that the Danish film should win over whatever crap is in the envelope. It turns out that that Danish film was intended to win, and Von Trier will meekly apologize to Noe for his “brief, amusing bout of antisocial behavior.” Von Trier will help the bleeding Noe off stage. They will begin making films together, and the event will be remembered with fondness.

 

The ceremony will be artificially extended when Russell Crowe takes to the stage to announce the Academy Award for Best Actor. He announces that he has $50,000 (US) that says the ceremony will run longer than 4 ½ hours. He pads out the ceremony by telling an Australian folk tale about a curious mouse. He does funny voices. His performance is captivating. That, combined with Scott Walker’s 14-minute Toy Story jazz odyssey will have the ceremony entire running to about 5 hours and eight minutes.

The Oscar for Best Director will go the David Fincher, but he will be absent, having to take care of a family emergency. In his place, he selected Spike Lee to accept his award. It will later be revealed that it was not Spike Lee, but a Spike Lee impersonator who crashed the ceremony. He will go to prison.

In a weird twist, Bruce Vilanch himself will present the Oscar for Best Picture. He will give a very earnest, improvised speech about the importance of this ceremony, and how films have come to be the dominant art form in the world. He will open the envelope to announce the award, glance at the card, cackle loudly, and sprint from the stage. He will be found in Atlantic City three days later trying to sell the card to a casino pit boss.

 

At least four different people will make cracks about the show running long 

Oscar season is upon us, and it has me thinking of the grand Hollywood tradition of legends.

There is a distressing trend with legendary actors and actresses in Hollywood. One can achieve “legend” status through hard work, several great performances, and a careful grooming of one’s image. But, once achieved, said “legend” status may be difficult to maintain. Legend or not, you are still a working actor in a cutthroat business, and if you do not keep working, you run the risk of losing your clout. This may lead to some embarrassing career decisions, especially near the end of your career, when roles and opportunities may not come as readily.

The following is a meditation on the dwindling resources of legendary actors, forcing them to take some pretty embarrassing jobs, some of which happen to be, unfortunately for posterity, the final films in long and varied careers. Some of the films on this list were actually quite good, but are consigned to utter obscurity. Others were notorious flops, and were embarrassments at the time. Some were financial successes, but don’t necessarily tap into the well of talent hired; they do not reflect on the power of the actor involved.

 

Here then, are ten legends who capped their careers with films of dubious quality.

 

Vincent Price (1911-1993)

 

Final film: “The Thief and the Cobbler” (1995)

Vincent Price is one of the most notorious heavies of Hollywood’s golden age. He played charmers in films like “Laura,” captured the monster-loving crowd in films like “Tales of Terror,” became a horror icon in films like “The Tingler,” and even camped it up in a few episodes of the wonderful “Batman” TV show. Throughout the 1980s, he did a lot of cartoon voices, which may not be dignified to some classically trained actors (cartoon voice work used to be considered “slumming”), but cemented his presence in the minds of those of us who spent the bulk of the 1980s watching cartoons.

 

Thanks to Tim Burton, he was given a beautiful melancholy role as the doomed, lonely inventor of Edward Scissorhands, a role which, while brief, was sweet and memorable. It was to be the last time he would appear on the big screen. But, thanks to the machinations of Miramax, Vincent Price’s one unreleased film was completed, and slipped surreptitiously into theaters for a single week back in 1995. You see, master animator Richard Williams was hard at work on an independent project called “The Thief and the Cobbler” for several decades, and, in order to secure funds, recorded a few vocal tracks with Price. Eventually, the film was taken away from Williams, completed hastily, other actors were added (Eric Bogosian, Jonathan Winters, and Matthew Broderick amongst them), and it was released to no fanfare at all.

 

I was lucky enough to catch the film in theaters back in 1995, and I can attest for its quality. It’s clear when sappy songs or crude jokes were added after the fact, but when Williams’ work comes through (complete with optical illusions, wonky style, and extended silent passages), it’s astonishing and gorgeous. Price, as the evil vizier ZigZag, speaks in verse, and does indeed bite into the part with as much enthusiasm as he had in his prime. It’s a pity that his final film had to be something largely forgotten.

 

Joan Crawford (1905-1977)

 

Final film: “Trog” (1970)

Joan Crawford is a fascinating study. She was a legitimately talented actress, who brought a level of intensity to her roles that her peers could not approach. In classics like “Mildred Pierce,” and “Humoresque,” she is a resolute and powerful woman. Every film she made from 1940 to 1950 is exemplary of her talent, and a clear indicator as to why she is considered one of the best actresses of her generation. She was also, thanks to the tell-all book Mommie Dearest, by her abused daughter, a horrible mother, a raging alcoholic, and dubiously sane. She had a horrid reputation as a spotlight hog, and treated just about everyone very poorly, despite her calculated charm. Details of her famed rivalry with Bette Davis don’t paint a very flattering picture either.

 

As her career pushed on, and she became more and more drunk and more and more desperate for money, her choices began to flag. “Johnny Guitar” is famous in certain circles for its queer campiness, and her late horror films with William Castle (“I Saw What You Did,” “Straight-Jacket”), while incredibly entertaining, clearly don’t allow Crawford the same star-power opportunities as her earlier studio work.

 

By 1970, her film career was considered largely at an end, and she can, for reasons no one can ever really discern, decided to star in the low-budget monster flick “Trog.” “Trog,” directed by B-movie sub-legend Freddie Francis, was about a sasquatch, found living in a nearby cave. Crawford played the empathetic doctor who tried to communicate with the beast. Hearing of Crawford coddling and cradling a mutant monster… well, it’s easy to make a parallel with what she was doing with her career. She took on a few more TV jobs, and died of cancer a few years later. Her legends, both good and bad, will live on.

 

Bette Davis (1908-1989)

 

Final film: “Wicked Stepmother” (1989)

If there was a rivalry between Crawford and Davis, I always (will all due respect to Joan) come down on Bette’s side. She had the life, the energy, the self-knowledge, the quirky, snarky quality that makes her a great actress, but also a relatable human being that you’d love to hang out with. Her career started with her as a blonde beauty (in films such as “Ex-Lady,” “Of Human Bondage,” and “The Petrified Forest”), and, as she aged, she only improved, leading to some of her most famous performances (“Now, Voyager,” “A Stolen Life,” and, of course, “All About Eve”). She was a class act who could make fun of herself. What a great gal.

 

Like too many aging actresses in Hollywood, though, her opportunities dwindled, and she started taking roles in children’s sci-fi and horror films like “Return to Witch Mountain” and the nightmare-inducing “Watcher in the Woods.” She still approached every role with her usual professional aplomb, but never achieved the fame she captured in the 1940s and 1950s.

 

Her final film, “Wicked Stepmother,” directed by B-film auteur Larry Cohen, is an oddball affair. Davis played a haggard, gold-digging witch who marries into an average suburban family. She is a horrible person, and she is clearly using magic to manipulate grandpa and steal his money. She has an intelligent black cat. Davis notoriously died during production, and she was replaced by Barbara Carrera, an actress 40 years her junior. There was some quick rigmarole about Davis being a shape-shifter. It’s a weird, sometimes funny, and very, very sloppy film that is unbecoming to the legend of Davis. Like many of her films, though, it has a streak of camp running through, and her presence elevates an otherwise forgettable low-budget ‘80s horror flick.

 

Mae West (1893-1980)

 

Final film: “Sextette” (1978)

Mae West was more than a comedienne, she was a force of nature. Her cocked eyebrow, flirty presentation, and generally playful sluttiness made her a sex symbol long before the phrase was in common parlance. She is the epitome of pre-code Hollywood naughtiness. Any one of her films from the 1930s can serve to neophyte viewers as proof positive that the olden days were naughtier than they are often given credit for. Women can indeed be sexual aggressors, and have been for as long as there have been women. West is a comedic exemplar of that. I recommend “I’m No Angel,” and the 1940 film “My Little Chickadee.” She only had 13 acting credits to her name, but left such a mark, that she is fondly remembered today.

 

In 1943, West actively retired from acting, having felt, I suppose that the muse had left her, although many film historians agreed that she simply had no use for the new trends of film censorship that were putting the damper on her dirty jokes. She wasn’t going to take another acting job until 1970.

 

In 1978, a drooling fan of West’s, a man named Ken Hughes (“Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”), did a horrible mis-favor for the octogenarian, and cast her in a career celebration film called “Sextette.” “Sextette” is probably one of the worst films I’ve seen, not least of which for its level of tragic exploitation of a (barely) living legend. West plays a lothario who has married a younger man (Timothy Dalton), and must spend the extent of her wedding day fending off her five ex-husbands, all of whom still want to sleep with her, despite her advanced age, and clear disconnect with the world at large. The sex jokes are unfunny. The flirting is queasy, and West is forced to re-sing and repeat all of her most famous lines in a desperate grab to reclaim any semblance of interest from the audience. It plays like a particularly poorly-shot round of “Circus of the Stars.”

 

West deserved better.

 

Raul Julia (1940 -1994)

 

Final film: “Street Fighter” (1994)

The charming Puerto Rican actor was a legend on stage, and, without even having to try, had more charm oozing off of him that any eight of today’s stars (well, maybe only two of Javier Bardem). He was discovered in Puerto Rico by, of all people, Orson Bean, and was taken to New York, where he earned endless accolades for his Shakespearean roles. I wish I could have seen his Othello. He won a few Tonys in his day. In 1985, he exploded into the film world with “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” and became loved by kids my age with a charming reinterpretation of Gomez Addams in the 1991 film version of “The Addams Family.”

 

He was rolling high, but was in ill-health, when he agreed to play the mad tyrant M. Bison in the 1994 film version of “Street Fighter,” one of the earliest feature films to be adapted from a video game. Julia, to his credit, gives a huge amount of gusto and energy to this ridiculous role of a crazed third-world despot, hellbent on world domination. He gleefully cackles at his prisoners, suavely seduces Ming-Na Wen, and seems to be having a grand old time flying through the air with super flying boots in the film’s climactic fight scene with Jean-Claude Van Damme.

 

Unfortunately, the world at large seemed ill-taken by “Street Fighter,” despite Julia’s gusto. Kids familiar with the video game could only react to the film’s departures from the game’s established lineage (however flimsy it was), and professional film critics were unimpressed with the mixture of unbelievable action sequences, and Julia’s obvious attempts at camp. The film, to this day, has a reputation as a horrid misstep, and a blind cashgrab. It has its apologists to be sure, but “Street Fighter” will never be hailed as a classic. This is too bad for Julia and his decades of hard work.

 

Dennis Hopper (1936-2010)

 

Final film: “Alpha and Omega”

Dennis Hopper defined a generation, in many ways. His involvement in films like “Easy Rider” and “Apocalypse Now” not only cemented his irreplaceable manic energy, and melancholic attitudes to an American Dream unrealized, but spoke to millions of young people as the central attitude of a decade. His unfortunate dabblings with substances also forced him into some pretty unremarkable roles along the way, but, after rehab, and thanks to one David Lynch, he exploded onto the scene again with his role of Frank Booth in “Blue Velvet.” Frank remains, to this day, one of the scariest movie villains of all time, and is often cited as Hopper’s best performance.

 

Hopper, like most legends, though, was not free of the occasional weird job to pay the bills. He was also involved in notorious flops like “Waterworld,” “Super Mario Bros.,” and one of the sequels to “The Crow.” I forget which one. So do you. By 2010, he was already pretty sick with his cancer, but was still acting, the trooper, and managed to record a vocal track for a CGI talking animal film called “Alpha and Omega.”

 

“Alpha and Omega” went unseen by me, and was something of a forgettable flop at the box office. I cannot say whether the film was good or bad, but reports were middling, and the film was shunted aside. You may be able to download it these days, but I know few who would want to. “Alpha and Omega,” then, may not necessarily be a bad film, but it was an embarrassing one for a legend to bow out on. No bang. No whimper. No fanfare. No rancor. Just a quiet slip away into the darkness. This is stirringly unbefitting for an iconoclast of such strength and quirkiness.

 

Gene Kelly (1912-1996)

 

Final film: “Xanadu” (1980)

Gene Kelly was one of the best dancers to ever appear on film. He took the grace and perfectionism of Fred Astaire, and made it more organic. He took the popular dance trends of graceful femininity, and made them, through his cheerful strength, into something masculine. He was a masculine dancer. And his happiness in his every role was infectious. In addition to “Singin’ in the Rain,” Kelly brought his smile and his charm to “An American in Paris,” “Brigadoon,” and “On the Town.” Choose any of his silly musical from the 1940s, though, and you’re guaranteed to have a good time.

 

By the 1970s, Kelly’s brand of cheery musical had fallen by the wayside (most major films of the 1970s were dark, moody, pessimistic dramas like “The Godfather” and “Taxi Driver”, and he was forced to take increasingly smaller jobs, including a lot of TV appearances, and cameo roles in films like “Viva Knievel!”

 

His final feature film has become one of the most notorious bad musicals of all time. I refer, of course, tho the 1980 atrocity “Xanadu.” Conceived as a vehicle for pop starlet Olivia Newton-John, “Xanadu” was about a lonely painter (Michael Beck) who fell in love with one of the ancient Greek muses (Newton-John), and was moved to start a nightclub called Xanadu in her honor. Gene Kelly appears in the film as the kindly old codger who helps Beck remember the good time, and is inspired to Olivia to take up dancing again. Gene Kelly dances next to ONJ in the film, and the scene only serves to show how untalented she is. What a waste of Kelly’s talent. Then, at the end, he is seen in the rather hip and undignified position of smiling while he roller skates in a roller-club.

 

Few films are this weird, and that it was the last feature film of a legend only makes it weirder.

 

Groucho Marx (1890-1977)

 

Final film: “Skidoo” (1968)

Any comedian worth their salt was inspired by Groucho Marx. His quick wit, and playful jazz-like riffing on high society, common manners, politics, and the very nature of reality remain the pinnacle of comedy, and he is responsible, with his brothers, for some of the best comedies ever made. Any young comedy fan cannot call themselves educated until they have sat and appreciated the great Marx. Bros. films like “Duck Soup,” “Horse Feathers,” “Monkey Business,” and “A Night at the Opera.” Groucho also continued on TV and other films for many years, bringing his sarcastic sensibility to all of them. He can make anything funny.

 

In 1968, Groucho took what was to be his final film role. To be fair, he did choose to play God himself. It’s a pity it had to be into the pesudo-comic mindfuck that is “Skidoo.” And, actually, Groucho only plays an evil gangster named “God,” and not that fellow we know from the creation of the universe, et al. For fans of face-melting films, and weirdo cult experiences, I encourage you to seek out “Skidoo.”

 

Directed by, of all people, “Otto Preminger,” “Skidoo” is a comedy about a kidnapping, but has plenty of celebrity cameos and musical numbers along the way to make sure you’re not thinking straight by the end. Look up the cast of this film, and you;ll find such faces as Carol Channing, Jackie Gleason, John Phillip Law, Peter Lawford, Frank Gorshin, Frankie Avalon, and Mickey Rooney. Oh yeah, and Cesar Romero. Seeing random clips will, perhaps give you a sense of the random manic weirdness of “Skidoo,” but it won;t give you the full experience.

 

Perhaps Groucho was playing a prank on us. Perhaps he wanted to go out on a weird one. Whatever the reason, it was his final acting gig.

 

Bela Lugosi (1882-1956)

 

Final film: “Plan 9 from Outer Space” (1958)

Bela Lugosi was born in Hungary, and fell into acting at an early age. His intense stare and seductive old-world charm was well-known in his native country, and in the US, where he appeared in many silent films. It wasn’t until he was approached by Tod Browning to take the role of Dracula, however, that he cemented his legend status. Lugosi had already played the role on stage, and, notoriously, learned his lines phonetically, making for an unusual, pleasingly sinister line reading that has bled into just about every vampire myth since. As a horror icon, none are more well-recognized thn Bela Lugosi.

 

Thanks to the scads of Ed Wood lovers in the world, and because of the 1994 biopic “Ed Wood,” the story of Lugosi’s end is a familiar one. By the 1950s, horror movies had changed from spooky Universal classics to sci-fi scare films, and Lugosi became addicted to morphine. He took jobs as he could, but soon he wasn’t even able to get embarrassing monster roles. “Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla” is a low point for everyone. Eventually, he fell in with the passionate – if not talented – film driector Ed Wood, and the rest, as they say, is history.

 

Lugosi appeared in some of the oddest and worst monster films ever made. “Bride of the Monster” and “Glen or Glenda?” are certainly some of the better known of Ed’s canon, but the cherry on the cake was “Plan 9 from Outer Space,” long held to be the worst film in motion picture history. Lugosi died during the production of the film, and appears in sad clips of stock footage. He creeps around a graveyard, and weeps in driveways. You can’t help but see the truthful sadness on Lugosi’s face; you get the feeling that he was only half acting, and half trying to desperately relive any previous glory he once had.

 

Lugosi’s son hates Ed wood, and felt that Wood exploited his father, and took advantage of his drug addiction, only in a pathetic attempt to remain near his horror film idol. “Plan 9” is horrible and tragic, but, I do declare, well loved by many a cult film fanatic.

 

Orson Welles (1915-1985)

 

Final film: “The Transformers: The Movie” (1986)

I don’t think I need to state why Welles is considered a legend. He was a theater star as a teenager, a radio personality in his 20s, a prankster, a lothario, and a stirring talent. In 1941, he made what is often considered to be the best film of all time in “Citizen Kane,” and his other feature films are all impressive (even if some of the later ones skewed toward the bizarre). Handsome, dashing, assholeish, notorious, not content to go without riling someone, Welles is a personality for the ages.

 

I also, probably, don’t need to trace the bizarre downward fall of Welles. As his ego grew, so did his body, his addiction to wine, and his inability to gat any meaningful work. The young idealist became overweight and drunken over the course of a decade, and was soon making ends meet with voiceover work, and commercials. There is a notorious clip online of Welles, clearly blotto, trying to read his lines in a wine commercial. It is, by turns, hysterical and sad. No one would work with the egomaniac, and it cost him dearly. Soon, he wasn’t appearing in films at all.

 

His final role, probably a larf for him, was the voice of the planet-eating robot Unicron in the 1986 feature film “Transformers: The Movie.” While the Transformers are inexplicably loved by a generation of boys, the cartoon show was little more than an advertisement for the toy products. They had little personality, and no tangible story to latch onto. And, stumbling into this universe, was the dying Welles, desperate for work, willing to take a part in a children’s film that only served to introduce a new line of toys. What’s more, his voice was distorted.

 

He entered the film world with the best ever made. He left on a film of questionable quality and intentions. It’s probably the biggest fall in Hollywood history.

 

Honorable mention:

 

Peter Sellers (1925-1980)

 

Final film: “The Fiendish Plot of Fu Manchu” (1980)

Peter Sellers, the chameleonic comedian from “Dr. Strangelove” and “The Pink Panther,” only gets an honorable mention, as he was very close to going out on a beautiful note, and then turned around and did one final cheap comedy before he died. In1979, he made the well-loved classic “Being There” with director Hal Ashby, and it is a masterpiece of parody, comedy, and melancholic political observation. Sellers is great in it. Had he died after making “Being There,” it would have been a graceful exit to a wonderful career. But then he made a middling comedy about Fu Manchu. It wasn’t a horrible film, but it certainly does not have the reputation nor the dignity of “Being There.”

 

Rest in peace, Mr. Sellers. And rest in peace to all the legends above. You may have gone out poorly, but we will always love you for your powerful heyday.

 

 

Witney Seibold lives in Los Angeles with his lovely wife, video and book libraries, and oblong opinions. He maintains (sporadically) a ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! Where he has collected about 750 of his film, book and TV reviews over the years. He is also the co-host of the B-Movies Podcast for CraveOnline. He humbly requests that you read his stuff, at the same time he, un-humbly, insists on his own worldview. Quite the paradox, isn’t it?

The 2011 Academy Award ceremony is only a few days away, and the bets are being placed. No doubt your office has a pool of some sort, or you’re attending a party with an admission fee. Perhaps you just promised to do something embarrassing if you lose. But it’s entirely like that if you’re a good movie geek like me, you have something invested in who wins the Academy Awards this year. As your humble writer and pseudo-expert on the matter, I offer the following advice on where to bet. Here are my Oscar Predictions:

 

Best Picture: “The Social Network.”

 

Many people favor “The King’s Speech” as it appeals to the Academy’s majority of older voters. It’s also backed by the notorious Weinstein brothers, and they have a reputation for hyper-advertising their projects until the Academy can think of nothing else. What’s more, it peripherally involves World War II, and the old joke goes that any film with Nazis is a shoo-in for the Oscar. I still hold that the film of the year, however, if “The Social Network.” Not only is it about something currently topical and significant (the way young people look at communication), but it’s is possessed of that banter-y 1970s edge that so many Oscar films these days seem to be lacking. It’s a film about modern business, and how strength of character (or weakness thereof) can dominate over innovation.

 

Actor in a Leading Role: Colin Firth

 

Colin Firth is good in just about anything he does. This year he is faced off by a group in incredibly talented men, including Jeff Bridges for “True Grit.” Bridges beat Colin Firth last year for his role in “Crazy Heart,” when Firth really blew everyone away with his heartbreaking portrayal of a grieving gay man in “A Single Man.” Firth is always deserving, and his portrayal of the stammering king of England in “The King’s Speech” is excellent, but he will definitely win this year as a makeup for last year.

 

Actor in a Supporting Role: Christian Bale

 

While I would love to see John Hawkes be awarded for his subtle and threatening turn in “Winter’s Bone,” or Geoffrey Rush get another statue for his flip speech therapist in “the King’s Speech,” the clear champion is the always excellent Christian Bale in “The Fighter.” His twitchy drug addict compiled most of his strengths as an actor, and the result was gripping and entertaining. Bale was funny in certain scene, heartbreaking in others, and was able to flex that muscle of insanity he has always possessed. Bale shall win.

 

Actress in a Leading Role: Natalie Portman

 

Natalie Portman has rarely registered with me. The only film of hers that really impressed me was “The Other Boleyn Girl,” where she played a lip-smacking vamp with more energy than she had previously possessed. She’s usually kind of wispy, kind of weak, kind of milquetoast, and, as a a result, comes across better in roles where she has to be wimpy. Her role in “Black Swan,” however, played to those strengths of hers. Again, my heart is with “Winter’s Bone,” and Jennifer Lawrence’s firm, resolute performance as a beleaguered teen seeking her absent father was astonishing. However, Portman for the win.

 

Actress in a Supporting Role: Melissa Leo

 

Historically, the Academy has given the Supporting Actress award to feisty, matronly types. There are two of said type in this category (Leo, and Jacki Weaver from “Animal Kingdom”), and Leo, previously so good in “Frozen River,” will take away the award as a trashy, be-coiffed petty tyrant in control of a cadre of beastly sisters. Amy Adams is also nominated for the same film in the same category however, and, historically, those cancel one another out. If that’s the case, my second choice would be Hailee Stienfeld in the remake of “True Grit.” She’s the one driving the story, and is excellent.

 

Animated Feature Film: “Toy Story 3”

 

Of course, the Pixar film will win. My heart is typically with the underdog in this category, however, and while “Toy Story 3” was a surprisingly melancholy film about letting go, Sylvain Chomet’s “The Illusionist” was heartbreaking and beautiful, and managed to recapture a lot of the magic of that old master craftsman, Jacques Tati. We’ll see if theAcademy voters go for the shoo-in, of skew more classical.

 

Art Direction: “Inception”

 

“Inception’s” twisty-turny visuals were made using a combination of state-of-the-art CGI, and a huge amount of good ol’ fashioned practical effects, making for one of the best looking thrillers in many years (“Avatar,” perhaps, notwithstanding). My suspicion is that “Inception” will sweep most of the technical awards this year, a) because it deserves them, and b) to placate the genre-loving fanboys that the Academy is trying to capture. Heck, the only reason that there are 10 best picture nominees these days is because there was an uproar over “The Dark Knight.” Christopher Nolan’s following film will, therefor, get accolandes.

 

Cinematography: “The Social Network”

 

Wally Pfister is just as strongly in contention for his work on “Inception,” but Jeff Cronenweth’s work on “The Social Network” more powerfully draws the eye. The way he plays with light makes a film that takes place mostly in small, dull rooms look fantastic. His photography crackles with the same energy that the film’s dialogue does, and his moody low light reflects the moral emptiness of the characters. It’s a unique look that deserves the award.

 

Costume Design: “Alice in Wonderland”

 

While the classy period costumes in “The King’s Speech” and in “True Grit” are wonderful (Hailee Steinfeld’s too-big outfit is particularly notable), the Academy usually goes the more fun route in the costume category, and rewards the freakier outfits. While the zipper-heavy outfits in Julie Taymor’s disappointing “the Temptest” were a glorious combination of Victorian puritanism and leather fetishwear, I think Colleen Atwood’s creative and varied designs in Tim Buton’s disappointing “Alice in Wonderland” will win. The Mad Hatter alone is worth of the award, as he was draped in an ill-fitting suit, made of other clothes. The film wasn’t great, but Tim Buton always manages to make his films look terrific.

 

Best Directing: David Fincher

 

Each of his films has been notable in some way, and while the same can be said of Darren Aronofsky and David O. Russel, Fincher is the clear forefront of this new generation of edgy directors. Here is a man who can make a serial killer movie, a locked-room thriller, a bizarre Hollywood weepy, and a spitfire media commentary all with equal aplomb. Even if “The Social Network” ends up losing the best picture award, Fincher will most certainly win in this category.

 

Best Documentary Feature: “Exit Through the Gift Shop”

 

I have only seen three of the five nominees, but the mindfudgery of “Exit Through the Gift Shop” will take the cake over heavier fare like “Inside Job” and “Restrepo.” Bansky’s film about the singlehanded takedown of the street art movement is a fascinating inside-out look at the way artistic trends move, and it’s loaded with funny moments and bizarre characters. If any other film challenegs this crowd-pleaser, it would be the hugely thorough “Inside Job,” which details, painstakingly, what caused this horrid financial crisis we’re currently still mired in.

 

Best Documentary Short: ???

 

 

I have, sadly, not seen any of these nominees. Your guess will have to do.

 

Best Editing: “127 Hours”

 

It’s a wonder why “Inception” was not nominated in this category, but, having said that, “127 Hours” really does have the best editing of the nominees. The film was astonishing for taking a tale of one man in one location, and making it seem taught and quickly-paced. The film seemed to take place in a single instant, and even one bad edit could have ruined that. Jon Harris will win this award. If there is any second choice, it would be, I suppose, Angus Wall and Kirk Baxter for “The Social Network.”

 

Best Foreign Language Film: “In a Better World”

 

I have only seen “Biutiful” and “Dogtooth” in this category. “Biutiful” is one of the worst films of the year, and will not win this award. It should also be ignored. “Dogtooth” is a psychologically twisted film about mental control and insular incest, and is one of the best films of the year. It is, however, perhaps a mite too weird for the Academy, what with the incest and all. I have not seen the Danish entry, “In a Better World,” as it has not yet been released widely in the U.S., but it has won many of the “advance” awards, like the Golden Globes, and, on that basis, it is favored to win.

 

Best Makeup: “The Wolfman”

 

“Barney’s Version” has some age makeup. “The Way Back” makes good looking actors look bug-bitten, chapped, and frozen. But Rick Baker’s work on “The wolfman” is the only one that is fun andcreative, and required a lot of energy. I loved the monsters suits, and the the monster masks, and the monster fights. It’s too bad the film wasn’t very good.

 

Best Original Score: “The Social Network”

 

Again, a hip young film, true, which doesn’t have any of the usual classical cues that this category is noted for, but Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross managed to techno their way into my heart with their moody electronics in “The Social Network.” It’s a perfect bland of sound an content. Each of the nominees in thiis category, however, did excellent jobs, and I would not be disappointed, nor surprised, if any of the other ones wins, including Alexandre DeSplat for “The King’s Speech,” Hans Zimmer from “Inception,” A.R. Rahman for “127 Hours,” or even John Powell for “How to Train Your Dragon.”

 

Best Song: “If I Rise”

 

Feh on “Country Strong.” Randy Newman is still a bit too saccharine for me, and the song from “Tangled” was the only one I don’t remember. This leaves the best song award going to Dido’s sweet, gentle and quiet hymn from “127 Hours.” It’s a good song, I suppose, but the fun songs rarely win, or are even nominated in this category. There was a long stretch there where every Best Song winner had the word “heart” in the title. The era of the dull ballad largely lives on. Let’s hope that Dido wins.

 

Best Animated Short: “The Gruffalo”

 

Jacob Shuh and Max Lang adapted the famed children’s book onto film, and managed to make it atmospheric, and thematically strong. It’s clear and entertaining and, with voices by Helena Bonham Carter, Robbie Coltrane and John Hurt, has the best pedigree. My favorite in the category, thuogh, is probably the gently peculiar “The Lost Thing,” about a man who must find a home for a surreal creature he finds on a beach. That’s where my heart is. Pixar’s “Day & Night,” also has a fair shake, as it strongly resembles an experimental Chuck Jones film from the 1960s.

 

Best Live-Action Short: “God of Love”

 

This Oscar is usually awarded to the film that makes you want to kill yourself, and by that standard, “The Confession” is the clear winner; it;’s about a young boy who plays some pranks that go horribly, horribly awry, all so he’ll have something to confess at his first confession. Argh. My heart and my mind, though, rest with “God of Love” a twee and deadpan comedy about a nebbish determined to win the heart of an uninterested woman by using magical love darts. It’s like Wes Anderson finally did it right, and the film is hilarious.

 

Best Sound Editing: “Inception”

 

Yeah. Probably.

 

Best Sound Mixing: “Salt”

 

Well, it’ll probably also be “Inception,” but “Salt” was really good, wasn’t it?

 

Best Visual Effects: “Inception”

 

I always liked this category, as it allowed the big action blockbusters and genre films to be mentioned alongside the usual heavy-hitters. This year has some wonderful oddball entries like “Alice in Wonderland,” the seventh “Harry Potter” film, and even “Hereafter,” which was notable in that the effects served the story, and not the other way ’round. But there’s no way that the trippy dream visuals of “Inception” will lose. Christopher Nolan is a master of effects, and knows how to make things look right.

 

Best Adapted Screenplay: “The Social Network”

 

Again, some strong ones. “Winter’s Bone” was well written in its restraint. “Toy Story 3” even had some interesting emotional moments, equating the lives of toys with the loss of innocence. But so much has been said of the fiery banter of “The Social Network” that there’s no way it will lose. Aaron Sorkin is a star screenwriter whose screenplay deftly juggles its witty banter with important statements about all the usual modern ways of connection. It’s a screenplay that, wisely, doesn’t bank on the images of Facebook.com, and instead makes interesting characters. Add to that a “Citizen Kane” parallel, and you’ve got a surefire winner.

 

Best Original Screenplay: “The King’s Speech”

 

This one’s pretty much up in the air (even though I’m pretty sure that Christopher Nolan will not win), as it covers so much ground. “The Fighter” captured the lingo correctly, and made all the character move in believable ways. “The Kids Are All Right” may have been a bit unfair, but was also believable. Mike Leigh usually composes his screenplays with his actors, so his nomination of “Another Year” is, I’m guessing, an acknowledgment of his craft. The favorite is probably “The King’s Speech.”

 

Let the betting begin.

 Ever since the 10-year-old Patty McCormack tied her hair into pigtails, and graced us with her wonderfully twisted performance in Mervyn LeRoy’s 1956 classic “The Bad Seed,” the world of cinema has been rife with killer children. The Killer Child subgenre is a campy footnote in the world of horror, and will get further analysis from me at a later time. For the time being, I will focus my attention not on children who are career killers, but, rather, on insufferable little brats, torturously ungrateful scamps, and other kidlets who make their family’s lives a living Hell. This is a list of the worst children to grace popular culture.

 While some of the kids on the list below have committed murder, they were selected, instead, for their peerless brattiness, selfish onanism, and their ceaseless capacity to bring pain and suffering to at least one member of their family. Let us now look, shall we?, into the universe of the ten most horrible children of film, TV and stage.

 

10) The kids from “Babe.”

from “Babe” (1995)

 

 Farmer Hoggett (James Cromwell) is a hard-working, salt-of-the-Eath kind of man. He builds things with his hands, cares for his animals, and blissfully absorbs the abuses of his clucking wife. He earns a living in the edenic mold, shearing sheep, selling puppies, and entering sheepdog competitions. In one scene, he even builds an ultra-realistc, heavy-duty dollhouse for his granddaughter.

 When his granddaughter (Brittany Byrns) opens her gift on Christmas morning, she deigns to lay one glance on the dollhouse, and wails in disappointment. “It’s the wrong one!,” she complains. “I WANT THE HOUSE I SAW ON THE TELEVISION!” Never mind that she has a marvel of mastercraft in front of her. Never mind that it’s a beautiful dollhouse, regardless of the one you wanted, you ungrateful little brat.

 What’s more, she seems to be entirely unhappy to be on the farm. True, a lot of city mice are uncomfortable in rustic settings, but there’s something about this little girl that is incredibly abrasive. There’s also her little brother, a fat little tyke who has no personality at all. In a world of gentle, old-world hard work, and sweet animal charm, these kids are like a violent truck wreck.

 

9) Kim Bauer

from “24” (2001-2010)

 

Kim Bauer (the gorgeous Elisha Cuthbert) is not so much obnoxious as she is in the terrible habit of constantly putting her father’s life in danger. Her father, Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland) is the star agent of the Counter Terrorist Unit in Los Angeles, and his job consists of charging about L.A., trying to catch bad guys, torturing suspects, and stopping doomsday devices from going off. His job is hard enough, but his daughter Kim only makes the situation worse. She gets herself kidnapped. She gets lost in the woods. She is constantly in peril. And, when she in finally rescued, she blames Jack for getting her into danger in the first place. Talk about ungrateful.

In the show’s further seasons, Kim was actually hooked up at CTU with a computer processor’s job. This seems like a good-paying job that was clearly due to the nepotism of her father. And is she grateful? No. She still thinks it’s her skill that got her there. Despite all the hard work her dad did for her, Kim is constantly on the brink of severing ties forever.

 

8) Dudley Dursely

from “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” (2001)

 

Dudley (Harry Melling) is an overfed little puke with a slicked-down hairdo, a quivering pink face, and a monstrous amount of selfishness. To his credit, he was never encouraged to be much else by his parents, who are equally abusive, smug and assholish. This is a family of status-obsessed jerks, who live for material gain, and have no problem treating people poorly, or unduly flattering bosses to get what they want.

 Dudley seems to be the worst of the lot, though, as he is seen, in one early scene of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” counting his birthday presents. It’s quantity over quality for this boy. He stomps on the roof of his cousin’s room, and wails insults for no good reason. He has been molded, very carefully, into a cruel fuckwad. Poor Harry Potter. He had to live with this kid for the first 11 years of his life. No wonder he longed for escape.

 

7) Sonny Corleone

from “the Godfather” (1972)

 

Sonny (James Caan) is the loose cannon of the Corleone mob. The family looks after their own, and, despite being a group of amoral murderers, still have a criminal code to abide by. They are honorable people who live in an alternate world away from conventional laws, away from conventional wealth, and away from the piddling everyday ethics that keep society together. They are a rich family, insular, separate, powerful. Able to manipulate any system.

So what to do when you have a jerk like Sonny around? Sonny is a screw-up. He understands his power, but not really how to use it. He’s too eager to use violence, and makes dumb decisions that his father winces at (he even leaves his bedridden father to beat up a mook). He asks for favors that advance his personal agenda, but whines when he is asked to do something. Sonny is essentially the archetypal over-privileged rich kid, but with the added bonus of having the clout to have people killed.

Sonny does eventually suffer a horrible fate, and, even though we feel bad for him, we do feel some relief that he was taken out. That toll booth scene is one of the best shootings in film history.

 

 

6) Dennis Mitchell

from “Dennis the Menace” (1951 – present)

 

 Dennis Mitchell is presented, in Hank Ketchem’s seminal comic strip, as an irascible, fun-loving prankster, always underfoot, but essentially a good-hearted kid. There was a Boys-Will-Be-Boys attitude of forgiveness to his actions that allowed the troublemaker to stay syndicated for decades. Despite his cute face and fun-loving presentation, however, I saw Dennis as a destructive little brat who deserved a good spanking. His antic were not mere pranks, but often ran into the outright sadistic. Be it cutting up his parents’ books or intentionally harming his best friend, Dennis was a proto-sociopath.

Dennis was also always picking on the same beleaguered neighbor. Mr. Wilson was a crotchety old guy who didn’t care for children, but his cantankerousness hardly warranted the abuse he had to endure. I half expected Dennis to playfully kill Mr. Wilson one day, and only be sad that he no longer had a playmate. Dennis had a dark, dark streak that isn’t spoken of often enough.  

 

5) Junior

from “Problem Child” (1990)

               

Another holy terror that was presented as a comic character, Junior (Michael Oliver) was even more sadistic than Dennis Mitchell. Junior didn’t merely have a stripe of sociopathy, he was an outright monster. He had been juggled from Foster home to Foster home, always being retuned to his orphanage after he managed to injure his Foster parents. He dressed in sweatervests and bowties. He took pleasure in the misery of his peers. Parental loving and understanding was greeted with sadistic cackling, and millions of dollars in property damage.

There’s one scene in “Problem Child,” in fact, where some friends of Junior figure that they can just ignore him. He responds by peeing on their campfire, and on them. You can’t piss on hospitality. I won’t allow it. By the film’s end, director Dennis Dugan has somehow figured that his adopted mother (Amy Yasbeck) is worse than he is, and tries to make Junior seem like a sympathetic character. Don’t be fooled by the “comedy” setup. This film is a horror film.

 

4) Hamlet

From “Hamlet” (1604)

 

 Stick with me on this one. Hamlet is in line for the throne, when his father is murdered mysteriously. His mom, however, married his uncle, and, through some political finagling, Claudius became king of Denmark instead. Hamlet soon learns that his uncle was the one who killed his father, and his only recourse is to kill the king, and take his rightful place on the throne. That Hamlet spends the bulk of the play vacillating and stalling reveals a wry parody of Senecan revenge tragedy conventions, and Hamlet’s self-aware, deep moral center and his place in court. “Hamlet” is still one of the best plays in the English language.

But, as a son, Hamlet is kind of a douche. He claims to want revenge for his father, but takes every opportunity he can not to get revenge. What’s more, he can’t really acknowledge his mother as an adult human begin, and tortures her and badmouths her right to her face. I’d love to see a production of “Hamlet” in which Gertrude chooses not to take nay guff from this upstart college-bound manchild living in her house. Hamlet is 30, and he’s still living at Wittenberg college on his parents’ money. And he ends up killing people. What an asshole.

 

3) Veda Pierce

from “Mildred Pierce” (1945)

 

 “Mildred Pierce” is a very good film about female empowerment, made when women were actually looked down on for being business leaders. That it stars the intense Joan Crawford only helps. Joan plays the title character as a put-upon housewife who must risk everything to start a business when her caddish husband leaves her alone with two daughters. She starts as a waitress, saves up some money, and ends up founding and managing a successful chain of diners in SoCal. She becomes wealthy, but continues to push and spend and earn and work her fingers to the bone. And why does she need to earn so much? Because of her daughter Veda, the ultimate sponge.

Veda is a precocious teenager who sneers at her mother for working hard. Veda was raised in wealth, and expects only the best. She is happy when her mom buys her a dress, and then secretly badmouths how ugly it is. She wants cars and furs and money, and will be damn sure that mom feels bad for not providing those things for her. She not above lying to get what she wants, and will even take her mom’s boyfriends, should the situation call for it. She lies about being pregnant in one scene. Veda is so obsessed with wealth and backstabbing, she nearly becomes the film’s supervillain. This is no mere spoiled brat. This is a status-obsessed bitch.

She refers to her mother’s “people” in one scene. The racial implications are staggering.

 

2) Dolores Haze

from Lolita (1955)

 

It’s easy to argue that Dolores Haze, the 12-year-old title nymphet from Vladimir Nabakov’s classic novel, is a victim of an older man. She was, after all, repeatedly statutorily raped by her lecherous stepfather, Humbert Humbert, the novel’s eloquently sleazy narrator. And while she was clearly exploited, she was also depicted as, well, something of a brat. She was already a slutty foulmouth before she was corrupted by her stepfather, and regularly verbally abused her poor single mother.

 After she entered into literature’s most beautifully wrongheaded romance, she became a horribly manipulative little jerk, often playing with Humbert’s emotions, and constantly scheming to get away from the guy, and into the arms of an equally older man. Nabakov wrote one of the best novels of the century with Lolita, and managed to make a criminal act of child molestation read like one of the most pained romances of the age. It cannot be argued, though, that Lolita herself was an insufferable little asshole. A victim, perhaps, but still not a pleasant human being.

 

1) Eric Cartman

From “South Park” (1997 – present)

 

 As “South Park” began, Eric Cartman was the callow, whiny, selfish kid of the group. He would badger his mother, demand fatty foods, and run at the first sign of danger. He was a selfish and mean-spirited little kid that his friends barely put up with. Fans loved his wherewithal, though, and he became something of an antihero.

 As the series progressed, however, Cartman slowly mutated from a selfish little kid into an outright tyrant. His selfishness proved to be deeper and deeper, as he began to lie, steal, torture and renege on his word in order to get what he wanted. Sometimes, the boy would kill. He was no mere liar anymore. He became a death-minded, Iago-like manipulator. His narcissism stretched from mere harmless self-interest, into a blackened hole of misguided ego. That boy is a monster.

 In one of the series’ most notorious episodes, in fact, Cartman, as an act of revenge for a petty prank, has Scott’s parents murdered, and prepared in chili, which he then fed to him. I think it was that moment when we left the realm of comic self-interest, and entered into the realm of horrific tragedy. He’s probably the worst little boy in the history of TV.

 

Witney Seibold is a film critic living in Los Angeles. He lives with his lovely wife, his video collection, and his secret love of fine cartoons. He maintains his own ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, which can be seen at the following address: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/ He also is the co-host of the new B-Movies Podcast with William Bibbiani over at Crave Online, where you can hear him talking weekly about new movies and movie news. He wants it known that he was a pretty good kid growing up.

Valentine’s Day is coming up this weekend. This is either a time to be extra romantic/sexy with your partner, or to bemoan your singlehood, either through depressed bouts of late-night robot movies and gallons of ice cream, or through a healthy shot of romantic cynicism, forcing you to snuff hatefully at anyone or anything that displays even the remotest modicum of romantic gesture.

 

Luckily, no matter what our relationship status is, we can call agree that celebrity crushes are the ideal romantic relationships. Celebrities always stay fit and attractive for you, they are always going to treat you well, and you only have to spend money to see them in movies. True, it’s rare that you actually get to hold hands with – or have sex with – your celebrity crushes, but it’s nice to have them as your fantasy.

 

In the spirit of the unrequited celebrity crush, I have collected a list of 20 sex symbols from movies and TV. But, I must qualify, this is not a list of the obvious ones that have captured the erotic imaginations of humanity the world over (sorry Scarlett Johansson, sorry James Franco), but a more introspective list of the sex symbols that huge amounts of people have crushes on, but who don’t grace magazine covers. Here is a list of twenty unconventional sex symbols (ten women, and ten men).

 

The Men:

 

Jeff Goldblum

Something curious about Jeff Goldblum: women would argue as to who was hotter between, say Brad Pitt and Matt Damon, but everyone could always agree on the cerebral charm and acerbic wit of Jeff Goldblum. His easygoing demeanor, sleepy-eyed smirk, and sense of humor seemed to break down all barriers. Plus, even today, he has that attractive lanky physique that never goes out of style.

 

Jason Statham

Also universally agreed upon is the thuggish, buff, tough guy appeal of action star Jason Statham. Something about his intensity, his unwillingness to be soft, his bedroom voice and alluring British accent, his attractive bald head… heck, there’s a reason some men have started to coin the phrase “gay-tham for Statham.” Also, something tells me that, underneath the tough guy exterior, is a tender lover who would make you a killer omelet in the morning.

 

Eddie Izzard

Often, androgyny can be sexy (just look at David Bowie), and many women (and no small amount of men) find transvestites to be attractive. They display a sexual vulnerability that can be very alluring. A lot of people like funny British blokes who like to riff on the world around them. Put those qualities together, and you’ve got famed British comedian Eddie Izzard, the object of so much lust, it’s hard to keep track. Open, funny, goofy, killer sense of humor, and willing to compare dresses with you, Izzard sounds like one fun date.

 

Udo Kier

Peculiar, romantic, intense, iconic, Udo Kier is a dream date. You’d never be sure if he was making a funny joke, staring at you in intense arousal, or ready to drink your blood. Kier is a charismatic actor with a wonderful accent, intense blue eyes, and an old-school cosmopolitan European charm that seems to have fallen by the wayside in his peers. For those of you who like their men with a keen edge of darkness, mixed with an ineffable sense of camp, Udo Kier is your man.

 

Jon Stewart

Self-effacing, cute, youthful, wise, fiercely intelligent, refreshingly ironic, Jon Stewart is sexier than he often gets credit for. The dude has been hosting “The Daily Show” for years now, and every night, he plays with the audience, and sparkles to millions of young girls across the country, subtly and unwittingly seducing them with his smirk. Most people cite having a sense of humor as being one of the most important qualities in a mate. If that’s the case, Jon Stewart is genetically superior to us all.

 

Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw

And if you’re into the geeky guy, why not turn your lust cannons on the unendingly acerbic and hilariously cynical video game critic Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw? Yahtzee was born in England, and currently lives in Australia, where he turns in weekly video game reviews for a website called The Escapist. He’s fast-talking, witty, and actually has the smarts to back up his complaints; no mere ranter, he is a smart critic. What’s more, he’s actually a handsome dude, pulling off the goatee-hat-suspenders ensemble that so many geeks fail at.

 

Gary Daniels

Few people know about Gary Daniels, and that is a pity. I was only introduced recently (thanks to one William Bibbiani), and I feel like some light has been shed on an underseen corner of fight film history. A martial artist born in England, Daniels is one of the better fighters in cinematic history. Buff, tough, and yet cute and boyish, he projects a charming, lunkheaded availability that few actors have. Plus, he looks great with his shirt off.

 

Willem Dafoe (as Jesus)

Willem Dafoe is a terrific actor who can be calm and warm just as well as he can be intense and intimidating. He is also very willing to put himself out there for a role, and have appeared in all manner of daring films (from “Antichrist” to “The Boondock Saints” where he played a transvestite). For some reason, though, his sexiest role has been considered to be (at least by some of the ladies I’ve talked to) that of Jesus Christ in Scorsese’s “The Last Temptation of Christ.” Maybe it was the gentleness. Maybe it was his thin body. For whatever reason, Jesus came across as strangely doable.

 

David Cronenberg

Perhaps not conventionally handsome, Cronenberg has the bedroom stare and the bedroom voice of a genuine incubus. He is a stirringly clever man and incredibly talented director whose interests run to the strong and the bizarre. What’s more, if his films are anything to go by, he has some pretty wild sexual interests, and would be willing to do the kinky things you’ve always dreamed of. He’s like the experienced professor you always hope you get, paired with a closet kinkster.

 

Lee Pace

A female friend of mine described Lee Pace in the following way: “Unf unf unf.” And how true. The star of the underrated fantasy film “The Fall,” and the short-lived quirk-filled sitcom “Pushing Daisies” has been slowly amassing a following of drooling fangirls for years. His pouty lips, sweet face, and charming tenderness speak to that. No mere good looking guy, he’s an honest-to-goodness dork fella. For many, that’s more than enough.

 

The Women:

 

Mary Lynn Rajskub

Mary Lynn Rajskub is a geek dreamgirl. She played the sarcastic computer expert Chloe in “24,” and her unwillingness to put up with government bullshit, paired with her obvious affection for Jack Bauer struck the hearts of geek boys everywhere. She was pouty at times and angry often, but always intense and always kind of cute. This is a woman with a sense of humor, and a geeky aplomb often unseen on TV. If you live in L.A., she currently has a one-woman show at The Steve Allen Theater called “Mary Lynn Spreads Her Legs.” Sexy? Oh indeed.

 

Sarah Vowell

And if you like nerd girls, why not go to the patroness saint of them all? Sarah Vowell is a rock ‘n’ roll critic from way back, and has written several hilarious books on the more obscure corners of American history. She has also been a regular contributor to “The American Life” for many years, gracing our cars and living rooms with her sweet, earnest, wry, lisping voice. This is a woman who is staggeringly intelligent, passionate about nerdy topics, and willing to talk to you about them. And, of course, way funny.

 

Fay Masterson

Any of you know who she is? Few do. Those who do, though, have probably fallen in wuv with her cutesy smile, lovely red hair, and goofy charm. She did have a small role in Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut,” but is probably better known in the geek community as the wife from “The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra,” and Larry Blamire’s other features. Her resume also revels that she was in other geek films like “The Quick and the Dead,” and that she has played voices in various video games. Seek her out, and then get your heart fluttering.

 

Debi Mazar

Debi Mazar is one of those actresses who is well-known and widely lusted after, despite not having too many leading roles to her name, and not really being well-known for one role in particular. She is that Queens-based badgirl of our fantasies. She was the evil girlfriend in “Batman Forver.” She was the sassy phone sex operator in Spike Lee’s “Girl 6.” She was the snarling mom in “Trees Lounge.” She was the cute Goth-ish chick in “Empire Records.” It’s likely she appeared in a single episode of your favorite show. Ubiquitous, intense, dark, fun, Debi Mazar is one of the ages.

 

Fairuza Balk

And if intense, wide-eyed Gothy New Yorkers do it for you, then you have Fairuza Balk to deal with. Balk comes across as the bad girl you were never cool enough to hang out with. The one who would show off bruises from the mosh pit she was in the night before, while you only dream of getting that riled up. She would be the one starting a bar fight, kicking ass, and then laughing about it the next day in genuine mirth. What’s more, she’s an intense and talented actress with a gorgeous smile and huge eyes. Many of us have stared at Fairuza Balk, and hoped.

 

Heather Matarazzo

Todd Solondz cast the 13-year-old Matarazzo in his tragic coming-of-age tale “Welcome to the Dollhouse” in the hopes that she would play as a hopelessly awkward and unredeemable waif/dork. What he didn’t realize is that he was making the archetypal lovelorn geek girl that would stand for a generation, Many of my male friends have come out in recent years as having a huge, huge crush on Matarazzo’s dorky appeal, and tender vulnerability. She only aged with her roles, and became headstrong and intelligent. To the chagrin of many a male, she recently came out of the closet. Well, luckily, our crushes can live on.

 

Tilda Swinton

A great actress, a daring actress, and a sexy actress. Often cast as a cold androgyne, Swinton is actually an intensely sexual being who can easily play with our minds as well as our libidos. By turns warm, intense, insane, cold, and warm again, Swinton is one of those actresses that seems capable of anything. She’s like the young hot, disapproving professor that you kind of hated for being so strict, but secretly longed for. And, if you’re into that sort of thing, she can even ride gender lines.

 

Imogen Boorman

This is a personal one. When I was 15 or so, I watched “Hellbound: Hellraiser II” for the first time, and it quickly became one of my favorite horror movies. Not least of which was because of the presence of a cute young blonde actress named Imogen Boorman in the role of Tiffany, the mute puzzle-solver. Something about her tender cuteness in the midst of all the gore effects turned my heart. What’s more, in an after-film interview, she was possessed of a demure, embarrassed humility that only turned my heart all the more. I’ve held that experience close ever since.

 

Helena Bonham Carter in “Planet of the Apes”

Helena Bonham Carter is hot to the Goth crowd, amazing to the acting community, and evil to certain gals for stealing Tim Burton away from us. She’s kooky, intelligent, and gorgeous. But what better display of animal sexuality is there than when she played, well, an animal? Was it the bob haircut? The big vulnerable eyes? The odd, sensual movements? The power she displayed through the ape makeup? Whatever the reason, I’ve heard more than one male say they preferred Helena than the wispy human love interest.

 

Beth Ditto

Curvy, confrontational, queer, subversive, poppy, punky, Beth Ditto is oozing a sexual energy that many rock stars only wish they had. As the frontwomen of Gossip, Ditto is a libidinous letch with a primal scream, and an edgy gay sensibility that I find very alluring. So what if she’s only into women? A guy can dream about making out with this angry hot fat chick right? Yo, fat girl. C’mere are you ticklish?

 

Witney Seibold is a writer living in Los Angeles. He is a cheery guy who works hard and is lazy in equal measure. He reads old books, watches old European movies, and harbors a luddite, technophobic attitude at too early an age. You can read more of his review on his ‘blog at Three Cheers for Darkened Years.It can be accessed at the following address:

http://witneyman.wordpress.com/

The 45^th Super Bowl is coming this weekend. I don’t know who is playing.

 

If you’re like me (and I imagine most readers of Geekscape are in this respect) you learned the bulk of your sporting knowledge from films and TV. Sure we all played chaotic pickup games as children, but only a few of us (AYSO inductees, Little League practitioners, Kenpo karate tykes) managed to play sports in any active, structured fashion. I was taken to a few basketball games as a kid, and loved the chocolate malts I had at the ballpark, but the world of noisy televised sports, the subscriptions to Sports Illustrated for Kids, the basketball hoop over the garage door – these are all alien to me.

 

The one place I would learn about sports (The Olympics notwithstanding) would be the video store and the local cinemas. In the sports movies, the mere game was bulked up into a hugely dramatic endeavor, where hardworking underdogs would rise against adversity, often against impossible odds, and often overcome against some opponent-cum-perceived enemy.

 

It was the enemies that always interested me. The vaguely villainous types that would swoop in on their bus, pour out in lockstep conformity, and give evil eyes to our heroes. Little explainantion is given to these people. All we know about them is that they’re well-moneyed, they’re well-dressed, they’re well-prepared, and they have every reason to defeat the good guys. They are never afraid of the good guys; indeed they are often headstrong and cocksure. And, since we know our ancient sports movie tropes, we know they are destined for failure.

 

In celebration of the Super Bowl, and in quiet appreciation of the Bad Guy, here is a list of the 10 greatest sports movie villains.

 

10) Minnesota Fats

from “The Hustler” (1961)

Eddie Felson (Paul Newman) is the worst kind of pool shark. He’s so good that people won’t take bets with him, and he struggles to make a living. He’s also cocky in the worst possible way, allowing his ego to stand in the way of his reason and his pocketbook. He comes into town to challenge the man who, he hears, is the best pool player in the world. This is Minnesota Fats (Jackie Gleason).

 

Fats is an imposing man. He’s bulky, stoic, unmovable. The first time Fats and Eddie play, the game lasts literally days. As the games grind on, both men suffer from fatigue, but their games do not flag, and their resolve does not slip. Eventually Eddie becomes so drunk and angry and distracted, that Fats wins. At that point it was not a pool tournament. It was a stamina contest, and a battle of the wills.

 

This is the kind of villain I like to see in my sports movie. A guy we know well just by looking at him. Someone whom we know is instinctively a badass, and who can toy with his competition. Someone who has a passionate love of the game, and an impeccable skill, yet still that mild streak of cruelty allowing for scenes of quiet, subtle sadistic mockery. Who would have thought so much quiet wickedness culd exist during a pool game? Robert Rossen’s “The Hustler” provides it for us.

 

9) Alexander

from “Robot Jox” (1990)

This was one of the most important movies in the world to me when I was 14 or so. Its ideas seemed revolutionary: In the future, war has been outright outlawed. All international disputes over resources, pride, and downright antagonism, are decided in robot battle arenas. This seems so practical to me. Rather than sending thousands of tragic soldiers into a battlefield to die, why not train an elite group of athletes to pilot gigantic robot suits, and have at it in a one-on-one fashion? Maybe if everything goes wrong, a single mob of innocent spectators may die.

 

The hero of our film is Achilles (Gary Graham) a Joc just on the cusp of retirement, and afraid of his replacement Athena (Anne-Marie Johnson), a wiry upstart. Achilles and all his fellow Jox, however, fear the machinations of the wicked Eastern robot pilot Alexander, who wears black, has an Eastern European accent, and gleefully kills his opponents, even when such an action is kind of taboo. Alexander has cooler robots (with multiple legs and what have you), and a sick, death-driven attitude.

 

The Robot Jox are a pretty neat group of athletes engaged in a pretty cool sport. That there is a wicked expert in the world of Robot Jocking makes my inner 9^th grader squeal with delight.

 

8) Baron Wolfgang von Wolfhausen

from “Beerfest” (2006)

I’ve been to a few Super Bowl parties in my day, usually with more interest in the spread, or the commercials, or even because a crush had incited me, but I have noticed that, at such events, just as ubiquitous as football jerseys and screaming and pretzel sticks, is beer. It’s usually crappy American beer, too. Like Natural Light or something. The playfully absurd faux-fratboys over at Broken Lizard realized this universal connection of sport to beer, and, in 2006, made the underrated drinking comedy “Beerfest”

 

“Beerfest” followed a group of friends who stumbled upon a secret underground beer-drinking contest while on vacation in Germany. They, foolish neophyte American that they are, feel they can jump into the competition with no problems, but are thoroughly and embarrassingly trounced by the wicked German team. Those Germans sure do know their beer. The world’s largest beer keg is in Heidelberg, Germany. I’ve seen it.

 

The villainous German beer-drinking team captain was played by a sinister Jürgen Prochnow, who lends his usual intensity to the role, but also proves that he’s not above the humorous material. He cakles and mocks with the best of them, and looks down on the Americans with a genuine spite. He even makes a cute “Das Boot” joke. What a class act.

 

7) Zeus

from “No Holds Barred” (1989)

WWF wrestling personality Hulk Hogan was so popular in the mid-to-late 1980s, that his faced graced everything from toys and lunchboxes, to hundreds of bootleg t-shirts, fruits snacks, and even a Saturday morning cartoon show. His first feature film acting gig was a role as wrestler Thunderlips in the fatuous “Rocky III” (1982), but it wasn’t until 1989 that Hogan landed his first leading role, in a semi-serious wrestling tale called “No Holds Barred” where he played a Hogan-like wrestler named Rip.

 

Rip was a virtuous blue-collar type who wrestled in legit tournaments, and who was, thanks to the machinations of evil suits in smoky boardrooms, forced to compete in a no holds barred tournament against the unstoppable Zeus.

 

Zeus, played by Thomas “Tiny” Lister, is one hell of a badass. In his first appearance, he knocks out a fellow wrestler without even introducing himself, yanks fistfuls of hair from the wrestler’s head, and bellows his victory to the crowd. He had the letter “Z” shaved into the side of his own head. He barely spoke, preferring to eyeball people with his cockeyed stare, and grunt in animal glee. He would frequently beat his chest, but, if memory serves, the chest-beating looked a little bit more like he was flagellating himself with sage bundles.

 

I love the thought of an unbeatable pro-wrestler, especially one so shrouded in mystery as Zeus. No one knew from whence he came, or what his motivations really were. Only that he had to – had to – defeat Rip at all costs.

 

6) The Beast

from “The Sandlot” (1993)

“The Sandlot” is considered by many people in their late 20s to be a modern American classic. It’s about a young boy who moves to a new town, and falls in with the local misfits who are obsessed with baseball. The team is rife with cliched characters, but, according to those who love it, they are distinct people, and most are especially fond of the chubby and cocky Ham, played by Patrick Renna.

 

While “The Sandlot” does feature a baseball rivalry with a local band of slicker, more professional athlete types, the true villain of the film is probably The Beast, an enormous, bestial, minotaur-like junkyard dog who legendarily will eat any baseball that lands near it. The Beast is a terrifying creature with a horrifying reputation. The dog is depicted as kind of mythic.

 

Of course, the heroes must eventually do battle with the dog, and this, to me, serves as a much more interesting sport rivalry than the film’s central plot. The kids must protect the game they love and live and have bonded over by facing their darkest fears in the form of a horrible monster. A monster that east baseballs. There is something ancient about this idea, but then, there’s something refreshingly familiar; like everyone had this kind of trial as a kid.

 

5) Max Baer

from “Cinderella Man” (2005)

Ron Howard’s “Cinderella Man” told the true story of Depression-era boxer Jim Braddock, played with a surprising gentleness by Russel Crowe. The film entire was a quiet, storybook approach to Braddock’s humble life, and modest struggles to become the world boxing champion.

 

The final fight of “Cinderella Man” is with real-life boxer Max Baer, a boxer so strong, so brutal, so notorious, that he actually has a reputation for killing one of his opponents in the ring. He is depicted as cocky, unapologetic and unbeatable. Since he is played by notable actor Craig Bierko, he is also possessed of no small amounts of Billy Zane-like slimy charm. He is dashing, handsome, sleazy, and can, should the situation call for it, kill you.

 

In real life, Baer was actually a decent fighter, who was copascetic with Braddock, and felt endlessly guilty about the life he accidentally took, but in the movie, with Bierko at the reigns, he became a mythic sleazeball with superpowered fists. I like that.

 

4) Roy Turner

from “The Bad News Bears” (1976)

Morris Buttermaker (Walter Matthau), is a hard-drinking misanthrope who wants to do anything but coach little league. Sadly, after an inauspicious career in the minor leagues, it is his only recourse. He is teamed up the The Bears, the worst team in an ultra-competitive children’s baseball league, and, together, they manage to use their wits to beat the bad guys. Well, they notoriously don’t defeat the bad guys, but they are pleased anyway. Michael Richie’s “The Bad News Bears” remains, to this day, a staple of the kid sports movie genre, and was even remade by Richard Linklater in 2005.

 

The bad guy in “The Bad News Bears” is Roy Turner, played by Vic Morrow. Roy is a well-dressed Gestapo type, who keeps his players clean and efficient. He is not self-effacing, and he is not sympathetic. He is a clear-cut bad guy. But then, Morrow brings a touch of humanity to the role, so that I saw him as a slightly weary, and completely professional.

 

Roy Turner was not just a memorable role, but served as the blueprint for a generation of sports movie villains. If you haven’t seen “the Bad News Bears,” by all means, do. The sequels, you can skip.

 

3) Chong Li

from “Bloodsport” (1988)

“Bloodsport,” the film that put Belgian action star Jean-Claude Van Damme on the map, is one of the better films from the underground pitfighting genre that was so big in the 1980s. Van Damme plays a character named Frank Dux who travels to Honk Kong to participate in a martial arts tournament called Kumite, where all martial arts are mixed, and there are essentially no rules. Participants often die. Frank is a decent fellow, but is also a good fighter and he trounces his competition.

 

The lingering specter over the competition is Chong Li (Bolo Yeung), a hugely muscled Chinese fighter who seems to take no small amount of pleasure in killing his in-ring opponents. Chong Li is enormous, with biceps like Thanksgiving hams, and pectoral muscles that could house a family of stray cats. What’s more, he’s one mean motherfucker. He only smiles when he is doing severe, irreparable damage to another human’s skeleton.

 

I love the notion of The Unbeatable Opponent, and Chong Li so well encapsulates this, by appearing like a well-toned, limber, slightly rabid elephant. His position is only helped by his unquechable lust for violence. Bolo Yeung is amazing in most of his roles (which were all largely of this stripe), and Chong Li is probably his highest-profile role.

 

2) Cobra Kai

from “The Karate Kid” (1984)

As a film, “The Karate Kid” is the source of many sport movie cliches. To be sure, there were scores of wise martial arts masters in the past, but it wasn’t until Pat Morita played Miyagi-san that the role was codified for a generation of American kids. There were underdogs before, but Ralph Macchio, with his proto-guido demeanor, and self-effacing smirk became the face of Kenpo Karate kids for years.

 

And there were bullies in movies before, but none so horrible and dark and notorious as The Cobra Kai. These were no mere bullies. These kids seemed out for blood. The scene where they chase Daniel (Macchio) around the high school gym wearing their Halloween finest, has reached near-classic status amongst fans of ’80s martial arts movies. The Cobra Kai came across as an amorphous blob of purified hate, an abstract monster of sorts. And all because they took karate classes from some dojo located, undoubtedly, in a strip mall.

 

This is why their evil seems so pure to me. Thanks to the Marine-style classes they took, these kids seemed to be brainwashed. And the head of the Cobra Kai, John Kreese (Martin Kove) was only slightly less friendly and obsessed and harsh than Hermann Goering. This was a man who allowed his hatred taint the minds of youth… all for the sake of karate. What an awesome villain.

 

1) Ivan Drago

from “Rocky IV” (1985)

Silent, enormous, imposing. Shaped by the finest Soviet training technology that science has to offer. Married to an ambiguously sexual, ballbusting robowife, and seemingly made of steel, Ivan Drago is the perfect sports movie villain. Played by the then-unheard -of Dolph Lundgren, Ivan Drago is everything a sports movie villain ought to be: Kind of cartoonish, physically peerless, imminently unbeatable, dangerous, bloodthirsty, stoic, determined to do only one thing in life: defeat and/or kill his opponents, whichever is easier. He’s also paired with an equally villainous wife (Brigitte Nielsen). I imagine their courtship involved a lot of uncaring, icy stares at suffering proles and starving children.

 

What’s more, Drago represents the Soviet half of one of the sloppiest Cold War metaphors in cinematic history. This turns him from an already-lurid caricature into an epically melodramatic tool. I don’t know about you, but I love characters like that.

 

Stallone’s “Rocky” movies ran the gamut from American classic to, well, “Rocky IV.” you can read my full analysis of the films here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/2010/11/30/the-series-project-rocky/. In what is the weirdest and most bugnus crazy of the sequels, we are treated to one of the most memorable and lurid sports movie villains in the genre’s history.

 

Honorable Mention: Bob Barker

From “Happy Gilmore” (1996)

Adam Sandler’s goofy golf comedy is not very good, but is well-loved by many people of a certain age. It was a simple story that was punctuated by several surprisingly memorable moments. The most memorable was, of course, the scene where Happy (Sandler) participated in a celebrity open, and found himself in a tussle with the erstwhile host of “The Price is Right,” Bob Barker. Barker is a notoriously kind and friendly man, who was a professional of the old guard. To see him swearing and savagely beating Adam Sandler carries with it a pleasure that is difficult to describe. For that scene, he deserves a mention on this list.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a film writer living in the United States. He watches movies and then writes about them. Then he goes to work at a movie theater. He recently became the co-host of a movie podcast over at Crave online, and he maintains a personal movie review ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! which can be found here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/

 

Alex Cox is mad in both senses of the word. He was something of a filmmaking darling in the 1980s, having made the bugnuts crazy, punkrock sci-fi miracle that is “Repo Man,” and he garnered huge amounts of critical praise for his apocalyptic biopic of Sid Vicious “Sid & Nancy.” Even his maligned “Straight to Hell” is admired as a cult hit, and has been recently restored, and is making small circles around the country. In 1987, though, he made “Walker,” a scathing anachronistic criticism of Reagan’s presence in Granada starring Ed Harris as a mad American imperialist enslaving the native Granadans in the 19^th century.

“Walker,” despite its daring conceits and wonderfully insane tone, achieved a kind of infamy in critical circles, and Cox intentionally exiled himself from the Hollywood system. So much the better, he thought. He always preferred having control over his own projects anyway.

The films he has made since 1987 have all been relatively low-budget and extremely high-concept (f’rinstance “Searchers 2.0,” a spiritual sequel to the John Wayne film, “The Revenger’s Tragedy” a film version of an obscure, blood-soaked Elizabethan play), or they have been co-opted attempts at reintegration into the filmmaking community (“The Winner”). Cox is angered and outraged by the poor reception of his films, and baffled as to why people don’t understand his chaotic vision. As the years have passed, he’s grown increasingly reclusive, having moved into a cabin in the Oregon woods, pretty much entirely off the grid.

For years, Cox has wanted to make a sequel to “Repo Man,” and who can blame him. In my mind, “Repo Man” remains his best film, and stands a s a cult hit for the ages. If you haven’t seen his alien-infused film of seedy criminals, desperate, sweaty repo men, and crime-obsessed punk rockers, you are missing out on the clarion call of an entire subculture that is cooler than you are. At one point, Cox wrote a sequel called “Waldo’s Hawaiian Holiday,” and came close to obtaining funds, but deals fell through. Luckily, the screenplay was adapted into comic form by Chris Bones and Justin Randall, and can be found at any of your more holistic comic book shops. As a sequel, “Waldo’s Hawaiian Holiday” is amazing as it captures the desperation for money, the Sisyphusian struggle of the working man living in an urban hellhole, and the mindfudging apocalyptic sci-fi conceits that made the original so notable.

Eventually, the quasi-sequel he always wanted to make got made, in the form of “Repo Chick,” now available on home video from Industrial Entertainment. Let’s take a look shall we?

I’m often impressed with low-budget filmmaking, and I admire any filmmakers who can take their limited resources, and still make a taut drama. I’m sad to report, then, that “Repo Chick” is one of those instances where the film’s low budget actually stands in the way of its drama. The story is crazy enough, and many of the actors really dig into their parts with a glee often unseen in smaller indie films. But Cox, in what may be budgetary reasons, filmed the entirety of “Repo Chick” on soundstages against greenscreens. There were a few sets built, and a few stylistic flourishes to indicate that the mad genius is still alive somewhere behind that camera (most notably, a set of an industrial lab, filmed in black and white), but for the most part, we’re stuck with that frustratingly static mode of filmmaking that comes with a small space, and actors interacting independently of their surroundings.

Also, one would think that with the American economy burning to the ground, that a Coxian comment of Repo Men would somehow stand as a bold, comic political statement, commenting on the amok consumerism that has marked the greediest of the Wall Street scrotums that have licked other people’s coffers clean. It will disappoint you to learn that Cox wrote “Repo Chick” before the fall of 2008, and the comment remains absent.

The story follows a Paris Hilton-like celebutant named Pixxi De La Chasse (the ebullient Jaclyn Jonet) after she is disinherited from her blueblood family (represented by a gleefully fey Xander Berkeley and the voluptuous horror of Karen Black). She falls in with her suckup retarded punk rock wastoid friends, and manages to land a job as a repossessor for the seedy Arizona Grey (Miguel Sandoval), his smarmy sidekick (an unrecognizable Robert Beltran), and the tough-talking leather marm Lola (Rosanna Arquette). Pixxi finds that she has a wonderful talent for repossession, having repossessed a few dozen cars, some trailers, airplanes and a shopping mall, all within a week. This makes her a hero to her peers.

Jonet, in the lead role, has a lot to carry, and she manages to bring a gleeful ignorance to Pixxi that is fun to watch. I just wish she had bantered with the other characters better. In the original, there is a stellar scene in which Harry Dean Stanton gives an impassioned speech to Emilio Estevez about the importance of the Repo Man in the world, and how Repo Men serve as the lynch pin for all civilization. Pixxi does not get to hear such a speech in “Repo Chick.” The cathartic moment never comes.

Eventually, just like the radioactive Cadillac from the first film, a magical treasure comes into view, in the form of four vintage train cars, which may or may not be the headquarters of a secret anti-golf cadre (led by Del Zamora, the only actor from the original to return), and may or may not contain a powerful bomb.

This setup may sound exciting and punkrock, but is paced strangely, and presented in an off-kilter fashion that keeps the proceedings largely opaque. I admire the aplomb that some of the actors gave, and appreciate that Cox wanted to make his film big and weird, but I wish the film had been, well, sloppier. I would take Alex Cox to be the kind of person who would take to the streets with shoulder-mounted cameras, shooting on the fly, guerrilla style, under the nose of the Los Angeles police, the MPAA, and any other authority figure that pissed him off. I’m not sure how comfortable he is shooting in studios against greenscreens, using animated sequences for his exteriors. “Repo Chick” may have the crazy story and the oddball coincidences of Cox’ ineffable punkrock madness, but I sorely miss his balls-out fuck-you attitude. “Repo Chick” is the product of a man who believes his own myth, but doesn’t seem to have the same kind of wherewithal 25 years after the fact. He’s a little more off balance. A little more nutty. And, sadly, has different resources to work with.

Something that kind of worked in the film’s favor was its use of a model train instead of a real one. Cox shot an HO-scale train, and had it serve as the exteriors of the films’ central repossessed object. I liked the shabbiness of this trick. It was used a little too much, but it, at the very least, lent “Repo Chick” an aesthetic.

If you are a lover of Cox’s films, then by all means, seek out “Repo Chick.” If you’re not, it could lead you into the arms of a cult master you may not know about. But both parties should know, though, that this film may serve more as a curio in the man’s canon, than as a solid representation of his strengths. Seek out “Repo Man,” though. And “Sid & Nancy.” And “Straight to Hell.” And the maligned “Walker.” I can even recommend “The Revenger’s Tragedy.” The tale of Cox’s career is a varied tale of resentment and madness. “Repo Chick” may not be great in itself, but serves as a fascinating object lesson.

At 5:35 am (PST), the nominations for this year’s Academy Awards were announced. As has been my habit for the past several years, I have arisen at that early hour to see the announcements made. My own personal top-10 lists have never matched what has been nominated (my personal list can be read on my ‘blog here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/the-best-films-of-2010/), but I still watch the Awards like a dorky hawk, imbibing the Super Bowl atmosphere of it all, and loving every show-biz-shallow moment. As an extra achievement I can brag about, I had actually seen all 10 of the Best Picture nominees before the announcement, which was the first time I had seen them all since, I think, 1997.

 

But for those of us who have been so inundated with film advertising and annoying critical “buzz” sticking to our skin, that we risk losing sight of a film’s quality due to overexposure, I offer the list below. I have paired each of the Best Picture nominees with a quality “B” feature, which should serve as a tonal or technical brother. Perhaps with a spiritual pair, each of the nominees can stand in relief, and become better in comparison. Or, if not, perhaps this list will serve as an important list of recommendations; if you liked the “A” feature, check out my “B” selection.

 

“A” Feature: “Black Swan”

“B” Feature: “Videodrome”

Darren Aronofsky’s film was about a skittish and wispy ballerina who, through professional paranoia, virgin/whore hysterics, begins to slowly unravel. She abuses her body with bulimia, scratching, hangnail abuse, and, as the film progresses, bodily mutation. By the film’s end, we are unsure as to how much of what our heroine has witnessed is true, and how much is hallucination. When though about, certain characters may not even really exist.

In my mind, the only filmmaker who can match (indeed, who can outdo) Aronofsky’s use of hallucinatory mindfudgery – paired with mutant bodily horror – is David Cronenberg. And the best film of Cronenberg’s to pair with “Black Swan” would have to be his 1983 classic “Videodrome,” which follows the adventures of Max (James Woods), as how his reality begins to dissolve after he discovers a pirated S&M TV channel. While “Videodrome” deals with technology, and “Black Swan” deals with art, it can be said that both deal with the mind’s susceptibility to suggestion. Not to mention, they both have themes of bodily mutation, and the good solid mental earwig of unreliable narrators experiencing increasingly creepy hallucinations.

 

“A” Feature: “The Fighter”

“B” Feature: “Punch-Drunk Love”

One of the more notable elements of David O. Russel’s “The Fighter” was the lead character’s family. Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg) is a hard-wroking fighter, but seems to have little clout or personality when set next to his incredibly noisy gaggle of Edith Massey-like sisters, and their mama hen mother (Melissa Leo). It’s only the love of a quiet outsider eccentric (Amy Adams) that can really free him from his familial non-entity status.

A film that follows a similar pattern is P.T. Anderson’s 2002 love story “Punch-Drunk Love,” which starred Adam Sandler as a similarly henpecked brother in a sea of noisy sisters. He was quiet and shy, and, like Mickey, would vanish in the outsized personalities of his brood. He was given to violent outbursts as a result. The only thing that freed Sandler was the affection of an equally oddball ladylove, played by Emily Watson, who seems to share his violent proclivities.

 

One is shaped like a sports movie, and the other a crime drama. One feels laidback and the other is decidedly peculiar, but they are both, very powerfully, about the overwhelming familial bonds one must overcome-cum-incorporate into their lives.

 

“A” Feature: “Inception”

“B” Feature: “Paprika”

Christopher Nolan made a very clever action thriller with “Inception,” which took place largely inside dreams, where reality was mutable, the mildest of intentions can be magnified by the unforgiving lens of the subconscious, and all the characters were suave, well-dressed superspy espionage types bent on a secret mission within an alternate universe. The film was smart, refreshingly complicated, and, even if a bit cold and confusing, infused with a huge amount of cool.

A few years previous, however, master animation director Satoshi Kon tackled similar material in his underrated dram thriller “Paprika.” It followed a put-upon cop, and her attempts to smooth out the turbulent subconsciousnesses around her by entering their dreams, posing as a kickass superheroine named Paprika. Again, the dream world was an endlessly fascinating place of surreal reality mutability, and true intentions (or even identity) can be subjected to the simplest whim. It also had a dream superhero, focused on a task, while fighting nightmare images.

 

It is said that cinema is the artform to most closely resemble dreams. Two dream-like films in a row should make that adamant. If you’re still not feeling it after those two, check out “The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie.”

 

“A” Feature: “The Kids Are All Right”

“B” Feature: “Patrik, Age 1.5”

Lisa Cholodenko’s film is about a lesbian couple (Annette Bening and Julianne Moore) who must cope with the sudden appearance of their two childrens’ sperm donor (Mark Ruffalo), and the social awkwardness that he introduces. Is he to be treated as an interloper? Is he to be welcomed? His lothario status also throws a monkey wrench into the proceedings…

This year saw a sweet, underrated Swedish film called “Patrik, Age 1.5” from director Ella Lemhagen. In it, a gay couple attempt to adopt a 1.5-year-old boy, but accidentally get a homophobic, chain-smoking 15-year-old. While “Patrik, Age 1.5” ends on a sentimental note, its largely about a gay couple trying to incorporate a new family member into an idyll that they had spent years building, and how that family member can be seen as an invader, even if he was invited.

 

Put the two films back-to-back, and perhaps you’ll see more than a pair of queer films. You’ll see two refreshing films about a real and palpable family dynamic.

 

“A” Feature: “The King’s Speech”

“B” Feature: “I, Claudius”

Tom Hooper’s “The king’s Speech” is about King George VI (Colin Firth), and the crippling stammer that prevented him from being taklen seriously by his royal family and his country. Eventually, under the employ of a failed Australian actor-turned-speech therapist (Geoffrey Rush), he learned not only to speak properly, but learned to open up to other people, and become a good friend.

It may be unfair to include a 13-hour British miniseries from 1976 as a “B-Feature,” but I am struck by the similarities between the two. They are both about royal figured, untrusted by their families, and seen as jokes, who must overcome a stammer to eventually win the hearts of their nation. While George VI found solace in friendship, and strength through eventual support, emperor Claudius I (Derek Jacobi) used his wits and smarts to overcome his infirmities and speech impediments, and remain a sane voice in the swirling vortex of his family’s madness (and when you’re following Caligula as emperor, you’d better have some good excuses).

 

Both the film and the miniseries had Derek Jacobi, too, and I’m fond of just about anything he does.

 

“A” Feature: “127 Hours”

“B” Feature: “Into the Wild”

In Danny Boyle’s “127 Hours,” Aron Ralston (James Franco), in a fit of misplaced independence, and a need to prove himself isolated from the world, would often trek out into the canyons of Utah to climb rocks, hike dangerous paths, and ride his bike on roads long since untraveled by men. In an accident, Aron found his arm pinned between a boulder and a cliff face. He was stuck there for 127 hours. I think, by this point, we all know what he had to do to free himself.

In Sean Penn’s 2007 masterpiece, Christopher McCandless (Emile Hirsch), in a fit of perhaps misplace independence, and certainly a need to prove himself isolated from the world, would trek out into the wolds of North America, by canoe, by foot, by the very occasional ride, and seek out the wonders of nature, untainted by man. In an accident, McCandless found himself stranded in an abandoned bus, unable to move for lack of food, and a case of poisoning.

 

Here are two intense and heartfelt films about souls desperate to be alone in the wilderness, and the difficult paths that life provides… and yet how satisfying it can be, despite the pitfalls of extreme self-inflicted violence and eventual starvation.

 

“A” Feature: “The Social Network”

“B” Feature: “We Live in Public”

David Fincher’s excellent “The Social Network” tells the story of Facebook.com through the wounded, nerdy personality of its founder, Mark Zuckerberg. Zuckerberg knew computers very well, but was not so good with people, which is ironic, given that he is the founder of the current leader of socializing technology. He alienated the few friends he had, being the kind of person who is laser-pointed at the task at hand, to the deference of any meaningful human connection, and ended up losing a few lawsuits.

Ondi Timoner’s 2009 documentary “We Live in Public,” follows the true story of Josh Harris, one of the earlier internet pioneers, who founded several Internet-only TV stations, long before such things were widespread, and even before technology had caught up with his ideas. His filming experiments eventually led to the We Live in Public projects, where he would put people in compounds and film them 24 hours a day. He also eventually lived with his girlfriend, entirely filmed online. Josh Harris was good with machines, but not with people. He was laser-pointed on the task at hand. He eventually lost his girlfriend and alienated his family.

 

There is a grand irony in most recent communication technology. It allows us to stay in touch,but it’s all predicated on being alone in a room with a computer, assuring we never have to actually contact other people. Here is a pair of films that explore that irony through two of the mediums most notable personalities.

 

“A” Feature: “Toy Story 3”

“B” Feature: “After Life”

“Toy Story 3” is, despite its easy comedy and exciting action scenes, a film about death. This is a film about toys who must face their own mortality as their owner outgrows them, and where they will go from here. They dread The Dump, and look for alternates to oblivion. They think they find respite in the hands of a daycare center, but ultimately must face that they must be more content with making memories for children, than be concerned with their plight.

Hirokazu Kore-eda’s 1998 film “After Life,” (which is one of the best films of the 1990s) is surprisingly similar. It takes place in the afterlife, where people gather in a calm, woodsy cabin to reminisce over their lives, and consult with employees of the Higher Power. They must select a single memory to take with them into oblivion, and the employees must reenact those memories on film. Both this cheery afterlife fantasy and the fantasy of talking toys are about the burden of happy memories, and how joy can overcome the inevitability of oblivion. I recommend both these films, and that they be seen back-to-back.

 

“A” Feature: “True Grit”

“B” Feature: “Lady Vengeance”

The Coen Bros’ “True Grit” is a surprisingly un-quirky, straightforward revenge tale, of a young girl and her dubiously skilled companions’ hunt to find the man who killed her father. She is a shrewd little girl, resourceful, and hellbent on revenge, despite her gentle demeanor and clearheadedness. This is a legitimate western, and a refreshing adventure.

At first glance, “True Grit” couldn’t be more different from Park Chan-wook’s 2005 horror film “Lady Vengeance,” but hear me out. Aside from being revenge tales, they both feature clever and resourceful young women who are wronged, and go about a horrifying task. They are both unprepared for wwhat they find, and they both exact the justice needed. While “Lady Vengeance” descends into a grand guingol orgy of lurid violence, and “True Grit” remains in the realm of adventure, they both have a similar structure, and both offer opposing points of view on the need for bloody revenge.

 

“A” Feature: “Winter’s Bone”

“B” Feature: “Undertow”

Debra Granik’s “Winter’s Bone” is about the fearsome backwoods unwritten justice standing in the way of a terrified-yet-stalwart young girl (Jennifer Lawrence) as she tries to uncover the more unsavory elements of her father’s past in order to salvage the family she is currently looking after. The world of the Ozarks is a harsh, muddy wilderness of closely-guarded secrets and misplaced codes of silence.

David Gordon Green’s 2004 film “Undertow” is about a teenage boy (Jamie Bell) traveling through the reed-encrusted backwoods of North Carolina, running from unwritten laws (and written ones) trying to protect his younger brother from the would-be sinister machinations of his unsavory kin (represented by Dermot Mulroney and Josh Lucas). The world of the wilderness is a morally absent wasteland of unwritten laws and frontier justice.

 

These are both quiet, poetic American Gothic films about escaping one’s unfortunate legacy, and trying to create one of one’s own, all in a wilderness of harsh rules, mistrust and outright hostility.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a professional film critic living in Los Angeles with his awesome wife, and his growing resentment of the younger generation. He writes film reviews on his ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years, which is, he feels, worth a look. It can be accessed here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/ He also recently became the co-host of The B-Movies Podcast for Crave Online, and can be heard discussing movies with William Bibbiani on iTunes.

The world of popular music is rife with bands and artists who, while often hardworking and talented, only achieved mainstream success with a single song. Some worked hard for years, only to have a song finally break through. As is more often the case, a band will explode onto the scene with a single song, and then never live up to the magic of their promised novelty. I’ve always loved the phrase “one-hit wonders,” however dismissive it may sound to some hardworking artists, I feel its pleasing poetry and easy ubiquity outweigh any offense it may bring.

 

The world of film, however, is not often cited in the “one-hit wonder” lists, and I aim to rectify that with the following observations; here is collection of actors or film directors who, like their music world counterparts, are only known for a single role or movie. In most of the cases below, the actor or director in question only made a few films to speak of, left a mark, and then inexplicably vanished (although I have allowed some room for the actors and directors who do have an extensive resume, but are only well-known for a certain single role or film).

 

Fame is a fickle thing. Let’s look at some of the people who achieved it for eternity, but only for a moment.

 

 

10) John Cazale

(1935-1978)

Actor John Cazale may have a short resume, but is notable for his impeccable pedigree. He did start his career with a short film called “American Way,” and he was in a single episode of a little-known cop drama called “NYPD,” but was not known for his acting. Luckily, he knew some talented directors, and made friends with some famous actors, and managed to land five major film roles in his career, making his one of the most viewed supporting actors in film history.

 

The five films he managed to star in were five of the best films of the 1970s. “The Godfather,” “The Conversation,” “The Godfather, part II,” “Dog Day Afternoon,” and “The Deer Hunter.” It’s rare that a big-name actor gets to star in films of such caliber, much less a little-known character actor. And, of you will ecuse this one enthused interjection: Holy balls!

 

He doesn’t have the same kind of screen presence at Max Schreck (see below), instead professionally sticking to his roles. Cazale did, however, manage to squeeze into the center of the American New Wave, and will be seen by film lovers for generations to come. Cazale dies in 1978, aged 42.

 

9) Jhonen Vasquez

(1974 – )

Jhonen Vasquez is a twisted, skinny Goth fellow with legions of cult fans, eagerly rolling around in the weirdo death-obsessed slapstick of his wonderfully sickening comics like “Squee” and “Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.” Vasquez’ work, while riffing on popular trends, and inspired by the likes of Chas Addams, may be one of the more singular comic book auteurs of the last few years.

 

Adapting his bizarro imagination to the screen seems unlikely, given his twisted interests, but in 2001, that’s exactly what happened, and a generation of children became warped by the Nickelodeon cartoon show “Invader Zim.” I am too old to have Zim in my childhood, but “Invader Zim” is, like “The Adventures of Pete and Pete,” a show I wish I could have grown up with. It’s a twisted show about an unendingly motivated, but staggeringly untalented space invader bent on conquering Earth.

 

Vasquez, perhaps disillusioned with the TV-making process, left the airwaves when “Invader Zim” was canceled in 2003. He doesn’t seem to be interested in continuing his filmic legacy in any way. As he is still alive, we can always hope that the Jhonen Vasquez feature film will come someday, butuntil then, Vasquez can be considered a one-hot wonder.

 

8) Merian C. Cooper

(1893-1979)

Merian C. Cooper was a hugely prolific film producer in his day. He produced simple silent documentary shorts in the 1920s, and continued to produce feature films all the way through his death in 1963. He was one of the producing mastermind behind famous western hits like “3 Godfathers,” “Fort Apache,” and “Rio Grande.” As a producer, his clout cannot be understressed.

 

However, as a director, Cooper was less than prolific, having only made three feature films and three documentary shorts himself (one of which being the introduction to Cinerama). He did make a somewhat notable film version of “The Four Feathers,” and had a minor hit with “The Last Days of Pompeii,” but these were odd aside projects for the man who directed what is probably one of the most famous monster movies of all time 1933’s “King Kong.”

 

“King Kong,” despite the slew of remakes and imitations, is a singular experience. The effects still look wonderful, and it is possessed of a dreamy adventure quality that has all but vanished from SFX films of modern times. While “King Kong’s” other director, Ernest B. Schoedsack, made some other notable adventure films like “The Most Dangerous Game” and “Mighty Joe Young,” Cooper stayed largey away from directing. Who knows what wonders he could have made?

 

7) Paul Hogan

(1939 – )

Most of us of a certain age are very fond of a 1986 comedy called ““Crocodile” Dundee.” It was an amusing fish-out-of-water tale about a tough-but-friendly Aussie nature guide who was removed from Australia, and brought to New york by an ambitious reporter (Linda Kozlowski). Hijinks ensue.

 

Paul Hogan played the title character, and he was an incredibly charming and very funny actor. “Crocodile” Dundee may have been a slightly fantastic character, but Hogan made him feel like he was real and charming, but also capable of surviving in the wilderness. He acted past the culture-clash stereotypes, and delivered a real human being that many people found endearing.

 

Despite two sequels, and roles in some other comic flops, Paul Hogan has yet to relive the success of his 1986 hit. He is still alive, and still gets acting work in film here and there, but I wish I could see him more. Even Roger Ebert said, in his review of ““Crocodile” Dundee in Los Angeles,” that he would like to hang out with the man. I share his sentiment.

 

6) Prince

(1958 – )

Prince is an amazingly talented musician, and one of the most prolific songwriters of his, or any, generation (rumor has it that he has recorded literally dozens of albums that he has never released). Prince was a pop icon in the 1980s, a concert guru, a talented guitar players, who is as eccentric as any rock star, but is not possessed of the dangerous self-destruction that so often comes with the profession. As a rock star, Prince has, literally, dozens of hits, and remains, in my mind, one of the best artists to get it on to.

 

In terms of filmmaking, however, Prince has had a less than stellar career. He directed three features films, “Under the Cherry Moon,” “Graffiti Bridge,” and a documentary, “Sign ‘O’ the Times,” but, according to even most Prince fans, the films aren’t very good, alternating between self-indulgence, and outright snores.

 

But, lest we not forget the wondrous cinematic contribution that Prince did make to the world. I refer, of course, to his 1984 hit film “Purple Rain.” “Purple Rain” was, according to many of my female peers, a regular object of viewing at slumber parties, and served as a pop education. And, seeing as the film was rated “R, could also be seen to serve as a coming of age for many of the same young people. It’s a surprisingly dark film, but has one of the best soundtrack records in rock history. “Purple Rain,” despite its flaws, is a classic. Prince did well.

 

5) Max Schreck

(1879-1936)

Max Schreck was a lanky Berlin-born actor from the days of silent films. His long neck, large nose and penetrating hollow eyes were perfect for the expressionistic wave of German filmmaking of the era. He first started in films in 1920, and, according to The Internt Movie Database, made 38 films in his career, including a production of “Peer Gynt.” He worked up until his death 1936.

 

But there is only one role for which Max Schreck remains remembered to this day, and that film is F.W. Murnau’s ultimate vampire movie “Nosferatu,” a renamed adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, in which Schreck played the dreaded Count Orlok, the main monster. Anyone who is interested in horror movies has already seen “Nosferatu.” Those horror buffs who haven’t yet seen it are mere nascent neophytes until they have this particular film under their belts. “Nosferatu” is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

 

And it’s largely thanks to Schreck. The recent trend of Twilight-inspired handsome vampire lovers may make us easily forget that vampires were originally ancient diseased ghouls, who drank the blood of the innocent, loathed the warth of the day’s sun, and brought rats and disease everywhere they went. Seeing Schreck in “Nosferatu” brings all of this prestilence and famine back to mind, as he looks like he is himself coated with filth, and that merely touching him will make you infected. In a 2000 film called “Shadow of the Vampire,” it was posited that Murnau hired a real-life vampire for his film. It’s an easy conceit to believe.

 

4) Charles Laughton

(1899 – 1962)

Charles Laughton is one of those unlikely movie stars. He looked like a pile of ham, and, reportedly, would badmouth a lot of his co-stars on the movies he worked on. This was balanced by his stirring talent, and his presence in some of the finest films of his era, including everything from “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” to “Spartacus.” I also just learned that he played Claudius in a 1930s production of “I, Claudius.” I have to track that down now.

 

Laughton, as is well known by film buffs, did try to direct once, and only once. In 1955, he co-wrote a screenplay with James Agee, based on a famous novel by Davis Grubb. It was the story of a priest who had the alarming habit of marrying old widows, and then calmly murdering them. He had LOVE and HATE tattooed across his knuckles. The film is chilling and beautiful, the film is “The Night of the Hunter.”

 

“The Night of the Hunter” remains one of the finest thrillers ever made, and it baffles the reader to learn that it was a box office bomb when it was first released. Thanks to the vitriol it earned from Hollywood, Laughton never tried directing again, and stuck to acting. This is a pity, as this is a great film. It has, luckily, earned a reputation as the years have passed, and is now seen as the classic it is.

 

3) Bart the Bear

(2000 – )

Not Bart the Bear from “The Edge,” who is a fine actor in his own right, but the Bart the Bear from Sean Penn’s stellar 2007 film “Into the Wild.” That Bart has not made a film since, and it’s a wonder why.

 

The first generation Bart the Bear was in a string of bear-themed hits throughout the ’80s and ’90s, including “Clan of the Cave Bear,” “White Fang,” “Legends of the Fall,” and his hit, “The Bear.” First generation Bart is a legitimate movie star.

 

But second generation Bart the Bear has remain reclusive. He starred in some TV and less-than-prestigious projects as a cub (Like “Dr. Dolittle 2”), but broke out over three years ago in what I called one of the best films of 2007, a year that was well-noted for its strength of overall quality. Bar the Bear (II) needs to appear in more films.

 

 

2) Maria Falconetti

(1892-1946)

The sullen, fragile Maria Falconetti. In Carl Theodor Dreyer’s iconic 1928 film “The Passion of Joan of Arc,” she played the titular saint, as she was tried, convicted, and executed by a rogue’s gallery of ghoulish church officials. Her eyes sparkle with melancholy, and her body seem divinely moved. Her skin has the tactile quality of a well-remembered lover, and her passionate quivering seems to come from deep within her core. All at once, she betrays her fear, expresses her faith, subtly lets slip her despair, and flexes her resolve. Maria Falconetti’s perfromance in “The Passion of Joan of Arc” is one of the best pieces of acting that we are lucky enough to have captured on film.

 

And after this film… nothing. Falconetti stayed away from camera, preferring to take quieter roles on the stage. She did star in two short films in 1971, but those have been lost to history. While Falconetti’s performance stands in contrast because of its rarity, it’s a pity that we don’t have more of her world on film to compare it to. She made, very literally, one hit, and then vanished from the world of cinema.

 

For the film buffs reading this who are not familiar with Dreyer’s stirring film, I encourage you to seek it out.

 

1) James Dean

(1931-1955)

You know who James Dean is. Yes you do. His sharp jaw, beautiful face, and defiant youth has stood in as the symbol of generations of young rebels. His sensitivity is praised by fans, and his masculinity is envied by all males. James Dean is a fine actor, an outsize personality, and a mythical icon, made all the stronger by his martyrdom to the large dented cars that took his life on that nighttime road in 1955.

 

And, did you know that James Dean only acted in three feature films? His career included a lot of TV acting, but it wasn’t until 1955, when “East of Eden” was released, that people began to take notice. That same year, “Rebel Without a Cause” was released, effectively declaring Dean to be the face of a generation. He also died that year, and the following year, his film “Giant” was released. 1955 was the best year James Dean ever had, and also the worst.

 

Dean is an actor who only starred in a few films, and would have likely gone onto to bigger and better things, had he not been killed in a car wreck. He is not a mere one-hit wonder. James Dean is a one-hit icon of the film world.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a writer living in The United States. He is a gregarious fellow, and encourages comments and e-mails, for even the most angry and vitriolic of readers. When he’s not writing top-10 lists for Geekscape, he is writing film reviews of all the new films he manages to see (and a few notable classics) on his ‘blog, entitled Three Cheers for Darkened Years, which can be accessed at the following address: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/

The Kama Sutra was, some scholars believe, written in India sometime between the 4^th and the 6^th centuries, and it is often attributed to and author named Vātsyāyana, although a historian named John Keay has said that the book dates as far back as the 2^nd century. The book is notorious for having smutty pictures, although the pictures were added for later editions.

 

Joe D’Amato’s 1993 softcore feverdream “Chinese Kamasutra” (released this week on DVD from One 7 Movies) has nothing to do with the book, its origins, or even its content. There is a Chinese Kama Sutra in “Chinese Kamasutra,” but it’s essentially a collection of badly-drawn x-rated pictures. This book, however, is erotic enough to stimulate the imagination of the film’s heroine, and unleash an entertaining, if totally nonsensical, romp through an erotic story of baffling happenstance and sexy ghosts.

For those of you unfamiliar with Joe D’Amato, let me introduce you by way of a selected filmography: D’Amato is the Italian film director responsible for nearly 200 feature films, including such adult titles as: “Sexy Night of the Living Dead” (1980), “Blue Erotic Climax” (1980), and “The Emperor Caligula: The Untold Story” (1982). D’Amato also directed under the name David Hills, and it was under this name that he directed a series of sword-and-sandal films starring hunky beefsteak Miles O’Keefe (and others) as a magical warrior named Ator. Many of you may know of his film “Cave Dwellers” thanks to “Mystery Science Theater 3000.”

The director of “Cave Dwellers,” it turns out, worked all the way through until his death in 1999, sticking with largely adult titles (“120 Days of Anal” anyone?), most all of them with an historical theme. I have now seen a few of his films, and I can say for sure: cogency is not one of his strong suits. Let us explore this through “Chinese Kamasutra.”

 

The film follows a sexy librarian named Joan (British model Georgia Emerald) who is interning at a library in China. She is tall, has long, luxurious hair, and breast implants that are distractingly round. She is constantly fending off the advances of her co-worker (Li Yu), who looks like a Chinese Butch Patrick, and sounds like a British Shadoe Stevens. The dubbing is distracting, but I suppose no more distracting than most Italian productions. Some of you may not know this trick, but many Italian films were shot without sound, and then dubbed into their original languages, along with any languages needed for international distribution. This made for easier international marketing.

 

Anyway, Joan finds the titular book, and is immediately intrigued. She stays late after hours to masturbate to the book. One the way home every night, a mysterious man in a red robe spies on her from the neighboring mansion, which was presumably deserted. Hm…

Eventually, Joan goes into the abandoned mansion, and finds an entire army of servants waiting for her. They alternately strip her, massage her, sexually pleasure her, and feed her dinner. The master of the house (Leo Gamboa) then appears to her, and explains that she is the reincarnation of an ancient princess, and he was the brave warrior she once loved. They are now reincarnated as members of the Kamasutra Cult (!), and are to achieve high consciousness through sex. That sounds way better than that boring old meditation stuff.

 

She also has dreams about her previous life, where she made out passionately (and badly; I hate when people are obviously bad kissers in movies) with her handsome prince (Marc Gonzálves). Confusingly, she is also called Joan in her flashbacks. It’s unclear as to what is real, and what is dream, and what is mere fantasy, and what is supernatural in this film. Did Joan enter another ghostly dimension? Are the servants ghosts? Is this all an elaborate fantasy brought on by the Chinese Kamasutra?

 

If these are her fantasies, she’s got some weird ones. She pictures herself on an alter, being licked and fondled by various Chinese women, while men look on, tied to pillars. She is assaulted by palace guards, who hold her down, and poke her all over with dildos (!). She does have legitimate sex with one fellow, but the camerman’s chosen angle clearly shows that no sex is going on.

Even though the film was made in 1993, and home video had already made hardcore pornography available in people’s homes, Joe D’Amato remains largely in the softcore arena (a few steamy masturbation scenes notwithstanding). This, added to the pretentious dreaminess, gives the film a fun, old-school sexploitation vibe that was largely dead by the 1990s. In that regard, “Chinese Kamasutra” is a fun curio.

 

The problem, though, is that “ChiKam” isn’t that fun to watch. D’Amato made his film so pretentious that it undercuts a lot of the eroticism. It also doesn’t help that Emerald, while pretty, and possessed of a lovely body, looks utterly bored by most of the proceedings. Her face is a heavily made-up pizza of indifference. The only scene where she seems to be having any sort of playful, sexy fun is, quite oddly, a scene where she eats a carrot that’s been carved into a penis. Only then, does she have any sort of gusto.

The films ends bafflingly as well, and yes, I’m going to give away the ending. Our heroine’s co-worker questions an elderly man as to her whereabouts. The man revels that he is the master of the ghosts that we’ve been looking at, and remembers her from the past. The co-worker goes to the house, and finds it empty. Did she go back in time? Well, as it turns out, no. She was laying in her bed this whole time. So did she imagine it all? Did she travels back and forth in time? Did the old man? I’m confused. But never mind. She and her co-worker go at in while he’s drunk, and all is well.

Joe D’Amato is a name to know. If you want to explore past his “Cave Dwellers” days, and dip a toe into his vast body of pornographic work, I suppose “Chinese Kamasutra” will serve as good an introduction as any.

 Here’s an interesting piece of linguistic history you may not be aware of: The entire language of Korean was actually a manufactured language, intended to be a simplified version of the comparatively more complicated Chinese.

 

 Human history is surprisingly rife with manufactured languages. Most languages evolve organically, but occasionally some expert upstart will study linguistic trends, delve into the mysteries of historic syntax, and they’ll try to create something more efficient. Such experiments rarely work (Korean notwithstanding), being, as they are, a bit too obtuse for the casual speaker to want to learn; for instance there is an uninflected version of Latin in the world called Latin sine Flexione, created in 1903 for the purposes of mainstreaming Catholic masses. The most popular manufactured language is probably Esperanto, created in 1887, and it’s more popular offshoot Ido, which was the language that one William Shatner film was shot in. And don’t get me started on E-Prime. Or Ebonics for that matter.

 

 The best manufactured languages, though, are the ones we geeks are lucky enough to come across in our geek fiction. What better way to make an alien race seem a touch more real, than create a native tongue for them? Their language can carry so much about their culture, their attitudes, and their evolution. If an author is clever enough, they can create an entire syntax and culture in their heads.

 

 As there are literally hundreds of imaginary languages spoken throughout film, TV, literature, and pop culture in general, I will narrow down this list to the top-10 languages that, should you have the gumption and the interest, you can actually learn to speak. They may have supplementary language books, or they may just require multiple viewings of a single film, but they are all speakable languages.

 

 Here then, are the top-10 imaginary languages you can speak.

 

10) Furbish

 

 In 1998, The Furby was the must-have toy of the Christmas season. They were armless, furry, owl-like monsters, about six inches tall, that could mutter and mumble and eventually learn to speak with you. If you had two Furbies, they could be placed across from one another, and they could spend  hours conversing with one another.

 

 But there was more appeal to the toys than mere cutesy cooing; evidently, the more you interacted with your Furby, and the more time you spent speaking English to it, it would actually begin to imitate your English phrasing, and more and more English phrases would creep into its conversation. I don’t exactly know how this technology worked, but it did indeed seem to simulate language lessons.

 

 If you paid careful enough attention to your Furby’s mumbling, though, you would begin to intuit certain phrases, and eventually come to understand what the Furby was saying. In essence, the creature had a language all its own, and you, mere innocent, toy-loving child that you were, were actually engaging in a complex linguistic exercise. The Furbish vocabulary isn’t that extensive, and the syntax is very simple, but, for many kids, Furbish was the first foreign language that they bothered to study.

 

9) Mondoshawan 

 

It is the divine language.

 

Often, when a film director wants to have an exotic alien species in his sci-fi film, he will work with the actors to create the language together. This may make for some faulty linguistic structure, but a more natural reading. There are plenty of low-budget sci-fi films to feature actors mumbling random gibberish to themselves; even Lucille Ball did it in an episode of “I Love Lucy.”

 

One of the more impressive actor/director-created languages is probably the one Milla Jovovich and Luc Besson created for the 1997 sci-fi film “The Fifth Element.” Jovovich played a genetically perfect alien named Leeloo, who could kick massive amounts of butt, fall great distances without dying, and outsmart the greatest evil in the galaxy. Leeloo seemed to yammer in gibberish, but the trained ear might be able to catch a word here and there, and find that she is indeed speaking a real language.

 

Like Furbish, the given vocabulary of Mondoshawan was limited (between 300-400 words, depending on your internet source), but it was a real language with a real structure. Indeed, Jovovich and Besson would write letters to one another in Mondoshawan to practice. Jovovich got to make up the accent.

 

Sadly, there are no books on Mondoshawan in the world, but careful viewings of “The Fifth Element” might teach you a thing or two about how to speak divinely.

 

8) Tamarian

 

This language only appeared in one episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” but the episode – entitled “Darmok” – was so well-written that many people remember not only the story, but the details of this oddball language.

 

The Tamarians, it seems, have a language that is indeed translatable into English, but it is so heavy reliant on mythology, metaphor and cultural imagery, that it sounds like babbling to the casual listener. The captain of the Tamarian ship greets Capt. Picard with the phrase “Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra.”Picard responds in a casual conversational tone. The people cannot understand one another.

 

By the end of the episode, you begin to see what the phrases mean, and how to communicate with a Tamarian. This is not only an ingenious conceit for a sci-fi TV show, but also casts an intellectual light on how your own language might be built, and how often we rely on cultural indicators to communicate, rather than bare words. Many site “Darmok” as one of the best episodes of this series, and, when you find yourself translating Tamarian in your head, you’ll understand why.

 

Watch the scene of Picard telling the tale of Gilgamesh to his companion. It’s a wondrous scene.

 

7) Simlish

 What started as a cute joke in the video game “The Sims” soon blossomed into a full-blown linguistic exercise. Your digital human avatars – whom you had to feed, clothe, support, and help live – would, in conversation, mumble to one another like Furbies, creating a facsimile of speech without having to actually converse. Some obsessive began mumbling similarly to one another, and by the time “The Sims 2” came out, Simlish was already in wide usage amongst a certain, particularly frightening segment of the video game playing populace.        

 

 What could easily be mistaken for gibberish is actually a well-thought-out, if not particularly complicated, language. It’s essentially structured like English, with an ersatz vocabulary put in its place. Learn the vocabulary (which is based on several existing languages), and you have Simlish down pat. It was originally intened to be untranslatable, but fans being fans, the language grew on its own.

 

Indeed, thanks to one William Bibbiani, I have seen the above music video of Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold,” sung entirely in Simlish. Welcome to a nerdier back corner of pop culture.

 

6) Na’Vi

 

James Cameron’s ultra-successful sci-fi film “Avatar,” while often criticized for its oversimplified story and comparatively shallow characterization, was, it has to be admitted, one of the most ambitious sci-fi films of recent memory. Cameron did not want to merely design a planet for a movie; his ambition was to create a real society of blue alien monsters called the Na’Vi. He created a life philosophy, some creepy Gaia-like psychic stuff (which didn’t read so well), and, designed an entire menagerie of alien creatures to live in his lush jungle on the faraway planet of Pandora. Whatever your problems with “Avatar’s” story, it does look amazing.

 

The most palpable element of the Na’Vi culture, though, was the language they spoke. Cameron, not content with magical devices like Universal Translators, had his aliens speak in their own tongue. He consulted with a linguist named Paul Frommer, and together they created a huge syntax and vocabulary. In interviews, Cameron claimed his ambition was “to out-Klingon Klingon.”

 

Given the film’s popularity, it should be no surprise that a small subculture of Na’Vi enthusiasts have emerged, and have shared their linguistic knowledge at the website listed here: http://www.learnnavi.org/. There are also books and other resources to help you learn. To my ear, Na’vi sounds like a romance language.     

 

5) The Voynich Manuscript / The Codex Seraphinianus

 

The Voynich Manuscript is thought to have been written in about the 16^th century, thanks to the carbon dating of the paper. It appears to be an encyclopedia of pharmacology, having chemical symbols and medical botany mixed in with (what appears to be) instructions. The origin of the text is unknown. The text seems to be written in some sort of code, or is, perhaps some sort of language in itself. The manuscript is named after Wilfrid M. Voynich, who unearthed the text in 1912, although the text’s author(s) remain/s a mystery.

 

If you are a clever linguist, and have an eye for cryptography, then you have probably already heard of the notorious manuscript, and it’s possible that you have already taken a crack at it. The alluring, misty history of The Voynich Manuscript makes it an irresistible project for nascent obsessors, attracting all lovers of linguistic mystery into a potentially unsolvable enigma, threatening to consume you, and always offering the promise of an answer just around the corner. It is available in print form for the curious and the brave.

 

The Codex Seraphinianus has much clearer origins, but is just as mysterious a text in many ways. Authored by the mad surrealist Luigi Seraphini in 1976, The Codex can be seen as an epic, mysterious art project. It is, at first glance, an encyclopedia of sorts, cataloguing the flora and fauna in a bizarre parallel universe where chairs grow from trees, houses and hippos are the same thing, and planets provide canoes and telephones for the oddly-dressed human-like beings that live nearby; The Codex may be a dissection of taxonomy. As you thumb through, though, you begin to experience a strange meditative feeling, and begin to suspect that there is more going on here than a mere catalogue…

 

The book is made all the more opaque by the as-yet untranslated script that Seraphini invented. He has remained notoriously opaque about the meaning of The Codex, and has not given any clues as to the structure of the imaginary language within. Is it a cipher? Is it a new language? Like The Voynich Manuscript before it, The Codex has repelled all attempts at deciphering it.

 

These languages are available for study. If you learn to speak either of them, be sure to tell someone, as you have solves two of the greatest language oddities in literary history.

 

4) The Demonic Language

 

I understand that the pages of Geekscape have few references to grand opera, so I implore patience for this one.

 

In 1849, Hector Berlioz, influence by the famed book/play by Goethe, wrote an opera of the famous Faust story called “The Damnation of Faust.” It was a huge hit, and, to this day, is one of the more hummed operas. Its form is notoriously defiant of definition, and Berlioz himself insisted that it was not an opera, per se, but more of a légende dramatique.

 

Berlioz felt that the human characters, as well as Mephistopheles, would be allowed to sing in their native French, but when faced with the demons of Hell, French would no longer do. He tried to compose in several other language at first, trying to attain the true wicked evil of demons just right. Russian and German would not do either. It was Berlioz’ only recourse to compose his own language.

The result is, well, musical. People forget that language is more than just a series of letters and syntactical rules. It is a cadence, a song, a music unto itself. Berlioz did not just compose a boring series of rules, he wrote linguistics from the heart. The Demonic Language of “The Damnation of Faust” is wicked, evil, horrifying. It is a guttural utterance from the bowels of Hell. And it is beautiful.

 

3) Ulam

 

The 1981 film “Quest for Fire,” based on a 1911 novel, is a typical adventure story about cavemen (c. 80,000 years ago) wandering the countryside, looking for fire, but is especially marked for its verisimilitude and, notoriously, its own caveman languages. The central tribe of Neanderthals that our narrative follows, is a tribe of Ulam, who speak a rudimentary language, constructed for the film by famed author Anthony Burgess.

 

This is a language that not only follows its own rules, and can be learned over the course of the film, but one that seems to presage the languages that were to come after it. Even more cleverly, the film’s director, Jean-Jacques Annaud, had other tribes speak other languages. When the homo sapiens first appear, for instance, they speak an advanced Cree language.

 

Add to this a language of gesture and sign (created by Desmond Morris, a primate expert), and you have one of the most fully-realized, historically accurate imaginary languages in cinematic history.

 

2) Quenya, Telerin, and Tengwar (The Elvish tongues)

 

J.R.R. Tolkien, that geek deity, was, famously, a linguist before he became the author of some of the most celebrated fantasy novels of all time. He was one of those upstarts who, having studied language intently, felt he could create his own, better tongue for humanity to follow. He never tried to pass off his own real-life language, but, thanks to the creative pseudo-cultural-study-cum-great-big-adventure novels The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien was given free rein to create what he wanted.

 

Tolkien imagined several different races of being, each with their own culture, each culture with their own factions, and each faction with their own languages. Most notable of the cultures he created was probably the culture of the Elves, who were a tall-standing noble race of cerebral aesthetes, and snotty bluebloods. The Elves had several tribes, each of which spoke their own language, and each of which had a history as to how they came to be, and how their languages evolved over time. There were sets and subsets of each Elvish tongue.

 

Many assume the Elves’ language to be based on Gaelic, or some other ancient language of the Isles, but, some cursory internet research reveals that the Elves’ language was based very closely on Finnish, a tongue that Tolkien had a particular fondness of.

 

There are volumes written on the Elves’ languages, and it can be learned through careful study.

 

1) Klingon

 

I’m sorry to be so obvious with my number one pick, and I’m sorry to include two languages from “star Trek” on the list, but Mark Okrand’s introduction of Klingon into the pop culture canon is probably one of the most momentous events in geek history. Originally conceived to fill a scene or two in “Star Trek: The Motion Picture” in 1979, it was eventually developed into a full-fledged languages that has resulted in Klingon language camps, Klingon filking, and Klingon translations of Shakespeare.

 

This is not a language of mere replacement vocabulary, nor is it necessarily influenced by existing Earth languages. Klingon (or tlhIngan Hol) is a beast unto itself. It has its own grammar. It has its own inflections and pronunciations. This is not a hobbyist coming up with something fun for a single film. Okrand managed to introduce an entire new langue into the world. And he did it for “Star Trek.” How cool is that? Klingon has taken on a life of its own, and exists even outside of the TV shows and movies.

 

There are several books of grammar and vocabulary available in bookshops, and I, nerd that I am, even have the Klingon language tapes that were once readily available to the aspiring Trekkie. What’s more, there is a Klingon Language Institute (http://www.kli.org/) to help promote its usage.

 

This pop culture juggernaut may be used as the punchline for numerous geek jokes (both for, and at geeks) but it cannot be denied that it is the most ubiquitous fictional language in the world.

 

 

Witney Seibold is a hardworking writing living in Los Angeles with his lovely wife and his love off the off-kilter. He works at a movie theater, and sees more movies than you do. He writes film reviews as well, having published over 700 articles to date on his own ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! which can be accessed at the following address: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/  Leave some comments, eh?

Rated PG. Dir. Roman Coppla. 177 minutes.

It’s been twelve years since the last canonical “Star Wars” film (the three animated features in the interim, according to the people who keep track of this sort of thing, don’t count), and it seems that George Lucas, previously maligned to the nth degree for the general overstuffed confusion of the “Star Wars” prequels, has been trying to do everything he can to redeem himself in the eyes of his fans. His approach to the highly anticipated “Rise of the Other,” a chronological sequel to “Return of the Jedi” (1983), is simultaneously counterintuitive, and oddly fitting; With the prequels, the admittedly demanding fans demanded a canonical next chapter from the original filmmaker. They were, despite all the defense the prequels have received, disappointed. This approach for the “Star Wars” sequels seems to be catering to the fans’ new demands by staying as far back from the actual filmmaking process as possible, and only contributing the story. He’s giving the fans what they want by not giving much.

 

And frankly, thank goodness. “Rise of the Other,” directed by Roman Coppola, is a surprisingly human story, devoid of all the cold, confusing dialogue, thin characterization, and over-use of physics shattering CGI that marked the weakest parts of “Star Wars” parts I, II, and III. “Rise of the Other,” despite being made by a relative outsider (accusations of nepotism notwithstanding), feels like a return to form for the “Star Wars” movies, recapturing the grandness of space, and the adventure of pulp action. Some “Star Wars” fans may feel that it’s a little too cerebral (indeed, the Internet has been accusing “Rise of the Other” feeling a lot more like J.J. Abrams’ beautifully intelligent “Star Trek: The Next Generation” (2015) than an actual “Star Wars” film). But I appreciated Aaron Sorkin’s well-thought-out screenplay, and attention to scientific detail; a complaint I’ve always had about “Star Wars” is its lack of hard sci-fi, that is: inventing imaginary machine that feel like they may actually have a solid scientific basis.

 

The story is a bit labyrinthine, so stick with me: The film’s pre-title scrawl (can’t get rid of those so easily) informs us that aged Luke Skywalker, benevolent and charismatic ruler of the known galaxy, has died. The galaxy has enjoyed a generation of peace, and ruling duties have left in the hands of Luke’s son Aaron (Max Minghella), who was declared the galaxy’s next ruler when he was still a little kid. He’s now in his late 30s, is a lousy Jedi (he can’t really float objects), and completely unsure as to how to run things (there’s an early scene where he, in one virtuosic shot, greets the happy crowds, shakes their hands, smiles, kisses yellow-skinned alien babies, enters a chamber, locks the door, and his face falls as he is led to a desk by an aide, and told what papers to sign). Aaron Skywalker is surrounded by gladhanding suck-ups who are a lot more experienced than he, including the blue-skinned Lui (Zena Grey), the impatient Max (the terrific Eddie Marsan), and the quiet, limping mutant Vantus (Chad Lindberg). These three remember when The Empire was still in charge.

The story gets going when it is revealed that a rogue group of warriors is trying to overthrow the Republic from a backwater planet. For most of the film, this group is referred to only as “The Rebels,” giving “Rise of the Other” a classical term for the fans, but also playing a clever flip on the earlier films’ power dynamic; all of a sudden the rebels are the bad guys, and the Republic are a benevolent dictatorship only trying to defend their turf from a group of upstarts. Max heads an investigation into various bombings around the film’s central homeplanet, and inexplicably brings Aaron along with him. The investigation scenes are boilerplate police procedural, but are fascinating to watch; I especially liked the scene where Max used some poisonous centipedes (the same from “Attack of the Clones, if I recall) to track down the whereabouts of a hiding pet which has swallowed some vital evidence.

 

Meanwhile, we see some of the scrappy machinations of “The Rebels” who call themselves The Brotherhood of The Arc, after an old Jedi myth, who live on what is essentially a moon-sized space ship; it’s essentially a Death Star, but without the evil baggage of the name (they call it The Ovo, which means egg, which is kinda dumb). The Arc, it seems have The Force on their side, but they use the term “The Force” all but once. They seem like a band of warrior monks who have been coming up with their own way of honing their psychic powers. Evidently, there is more than just a Light and a Dark to The Force. There is also an independent streak.

 

The Arc is led by the feisty fortysomething Joan (Amber Heard in age makeup), and has been trying to unite all of the independent planets in the galaxy in order to grow her army. Joan is a fantastic character, who spits and froths when needed, and is cool and calculating at just the right moments. That Heard pulls off such a great performance is astonishing. She is seen, in her introductory scene, fighting her way through a jungle stronghold using only a chain and a light-saber-like knife, severing hands and feet, but killing no one, working her way over the roofs into a dignitary’s bedroom, only to offer him a free meal and kind words about how great his people are. It’s pretty badass.

Andyway, Joan and her main recruit, Zvi (Campbell Scott) team up to take down the Republic, and, with battle finesse, also fight their way to the Republic’s home planet, where they confront Aaron. Aaron, in what is perhaps an unwise move, decides that an act of war would be detrimental, and takes a shine to Zvi’s daughter (Mika Boorem), and actually marries her the following day. Max, Lui and Vantus, however, decide to go behind Aaron’s back, and actually declare war on the Arc, and there’s a spectacular battle where they blow up The Ovo.

 

We are treated to what is one of the most spectacular battles in the entire “Star Wars” series with the Ovo assault. Unlike The Death Star, The Ovo is a sprightly and resourceful little ship that can play host to a dogfight one moment, but do some fighting itself the next. We see the interior of The Ovo a lot, which looks more like an atrium than an actual spaceship (I like the mixture of the organic with the technological), and Coppola’s use of crosscutting is nothing short of brilliant. That the battle end on a note of ambivalence adds some very much needed meat to a series that has, until now, been sorely lacking.

 

The film ends with Max, Lui and Vantus signing papers for Aaron (only trouble ahead), and Aaron and Zvi’s daughter having an awkward and sunny breakfast. Joan’s fate is a cruel one, and I will leave you to discover it. I will say, though, that she will not be seen in “Star Wars VIII.”

 

The story may sound Shakespearean, but that’s just fine by me. If you’re going to rip off a style, rip off a master.

 

With his prequels, George Lucas tried to display that he was the forerunner in CGI technology, and filmed most of his actors on green screens, and created most every background in computers. This made for films that were so jam-packed with wiggly imagery, that they became sterile and uninvolving. It’s refreshing that Coppola has taken an old-school approach filming on real film stock (a rare commodity these days), and building real sets. Like I said, the interior of The Ovo was a marvel to behold, but all the rest of the buildings (Aaron’s mansion, Max’s interrogation room, Joan’s execution platform) were huge, real monstrosities that lend a hefty, real-world grandeur to the sets that CGI lacks. If Internet rumors are to be believed, these sets will make appearances in the following two films as well (and these “Star Wars” films always come in threes). It’s a good thing. Such sets are rarely seen outside of Roman epics of the 1950s and ’60s.

 

I can’t imagine what this film would have been like if Lucas had decided to write/direct it himself. Likely he would have had used the CGI approach, and the look of the film would have distracted from the story.

 

The most curious thing about “Rise of The Other” (and perhaps the most refreshing), is how little it draws on elements from the previous films. There is a light saber thing, but it’s used very little. There is a reference to Luke Skywalker, but he’s dead. The Force is only mentioned once. Princess Leia is referred to in the dialogue, but only to mention that she had no heirs (and that she abdicated). All the old characters (Han Solo, Chewbacca, R2-D2, etc.) are nowhere to be seen. I suppose after the sloppy fanboy placating that Lucas tried with parts I, II, and III, he decided to distance himself from the character hammering he would likely have done.

This film is slated to open next week on Wednesday November 15^th. The opening nights are already sold out, and the collectible laserdisc box sets that Lucas put out have already sold out in some stores. The film hardly needs encouragement, but it was so very nice to see someone putting actual thought and depth into a new “Star Wars” story. I commend Lucas for his restraint, Coppola for his skill, Heard, Minghella and Marsan for their performances, and the fans for continuing to believe. Will they like it? Only time will tell.

 

The final Star Wars trilogy continues in Star Wars: Episode VIII – Destruction of the Arc (2018). Read the review here!

The final Star Wars trilogy concludes in Star Wars: Episode IX – The Fall of Vantus (2020). Read the review here!

 

Witney Seibold is a polite and dashing writer living in Los Angeles. When he’s not writing, he’s watching movies, reading old books, and nurturing his growing disapproval of young people today. He nonce worked as a professional film critic for a local newspaper, and now maintains his own ‘blog (which can be accessed at http://witneyman.wordpress.com), where you can read the nearly 700 articles he has published to date, some of which are professionally written and genuinely insightful, despite the typos. He likes comments, positive and negative, and encourages you to leave some.

 

Rated PG. Dir. Darren Herczeg. 185 minutes.

 

If Roman Coppola’s “Rise of the Other” was the wind-up, director Darren Herczeg’s “Destruction of the Arc” is the pitch. “Destruction of the Arc” (admittedly a glib title), the eighth in the unending “Star Wars” series, is probably one of the best science fiction films of the past few years, and is poised to be one of the more successful (and I include Edgar Wright’s children’s blockbuster “Borgel” (2016) in that statement). You can’t really say that about the eighth film in any film franchise. It picks up where “Rise of the Other” left off, and expounds immensely on its political themes, its Machiavellian antics, themes of turbulent marriages, and, most notably, it’s mixture of the organic with the mechanical. It is in “Destruction of the Arc” that we are first introduced to Kade-09 (Billy Boyd), a mostly human, part-droid creature who spits and froths like a quivering soda machine, but is still given grand eloquence by screenwriter Aaron Sorkin. There are affairs, battles, space pirates (!), and a grand people’s uprising, and no small amount of eyeball-stuffing delirium. What’s more, like “The Empire Strikes Back” (1980), “Destruction of the Arc” is the darkest chapter, ending on notes of hopelessness and evil. It’s a gorgeous storytelling conceit that wraps up neatly, but still leaves us eager for part IX.

 

Also in tact from “Rise of the Other” is the use of practical sets and celluloid photography, which means “Destruction of the Arc” looks just as good as its predecessor, and, while going to some pretty wild places, still has that old-time classical “Star Wars” feeling. The same cast is back as well, meaning we have shining performances from Max Minghella, Eddie Marsan, Chad Lindberg, and Mika Boorem. There were rumors that John Williams did not complete the score to “Destruction of the Arc” before his accident, but, according to everyone who worked on the film, he was able to complete his work, and even started writing theme for the ninth “Star Wars” film. “Destruction of the Arc” has beautiful music that ranges from quiet and quirky, to Williams’ usual bombast. If “Destruction of the Arc” has to be his final film score, I think he can be proud.

 

Whereas the story of “Rise of the Other” was a combination of political thriller, police procedural, and underdog tale, “Destruction of the Arc” is a huge bugnuts crazy affair that incorporates all kinds of weirdo elements, but manages to synthesize them into a solid thriller: We open a few months after the events of “Rise of the Other.” Pruhla (Boorem) has already become bored with a marriage to the milquetoast Aaron Skywalker (Minghella), and has started having an uncomfortably flirtatious affair with the reptilian Bolku (Sam Riley). The Arc, that intrepid group of do-it-yourself psychics, despite the destruction of their battleship The Ovo in the last film, are still interested in supplanting the government, and have instated Zvi (Campbell Scott, underused) as their leader. The Arc now inhabits a gorgeous planet that seems to consist of nothing but thriving beach communities. There’s a passing line about how the atmosphere on this planet has been artificially created, and that there are billions upon billions of self-replicating nanites in the air. That’s a strange conceit, but it comes into play rather poetically later in the film.

Max (Marsan) has been told by Pruhla that The Arc is starting colonies all over the galaxy, and with his usual investigative acumen, goes off in search. It’s expected that he’ll find nothing, but he eventually does find a few rogue colonies of The Arc springing up all over. The scene where he is investigating planets from space using some advanced spy technology feel voyeuristic and uncomfortable, and really, really cool.

 

In his absence, Pruhla begins conspiring with Lydia (newcomer Margaret Kinney), the wife of the limping genius Vantus (Lindberg) to study The Force. Like in “Rise of the Other,” I find it curious (and endlessly intriguing) that The Force has been reduced to scary mumbo-jumbo. Once a noble and calming thing, this Force religion has shifted in the eyes of the people, now having been reduced to taboo. In this film The Force is shown as this transgressive and almost dirty thing that decent people don’t mess around with. And perhaps they shouldn’t. When Lydia tries an ancient Jedi séance (!), she invokes the spirit of an old Sith, and nearly destroys and entire wing of the Skywalker mansion. I complineted these films for sticking to old-school sets and photography, but the CGI on the Sith ghost (played, fittingly enough by Ray Park, who played the demonic Sith Darth Maul in “The Phantom Menace.” this cameo seems to be one of the rare fanboy concessions that Lucas has allowed in this new film) is actually some of the best I’ve ever seen. It seems to have substance and weight.

 

Anyway, thanks to this, Aaron (again, at the behest of Pruhla) banishes Vantus and his wife from the Republic. Just as I was thinking how silly the concept of “banishment” was in a universe where people can merrily fly from planet to planet, the screenplay bothered to tell us that Vantus would be recognized and shunned for his use of The Force. Yes, despite all of the previous “Star Wars” shaky hologram phone calls, “Destruction of the Arc” actually employs real newscasting technology, and shows a few cute scenes of people watching personal television sets. Yes, it seems banishment – or at the very least ostracizing – is doable in this universe.

 

Vantus’ only recourse is to join The Arc. Max, who has been spying, joins him, and they build Kade-09 (Boyd) to lead another uprising against Aaron. Kade-09 has an amusing comic sidekick named Bib Yanni, a droid in his own right. Kade-09 gathers The Arc together, and, in a montage, is seen whipping the rabble into a frenzy. It’s clear he’s operating beyond his programming, and Boyd’s intense and funny and borderline scary performance really captures the manic energy of the character.

 

O.k. I realize that the story sounds like it’s gotten out of hand at this point. Rebellions and counter-rebellions? Betrayals of spouses using supernatural stuff? This sounds like a Shakespeare play that no one wants to read. Strangely, though, thanks to the film’s extensive running time (185 minutes), Aaron Sorkin has given due time for all these elements to mesh, and, despite all the chaos and screaming, you can indeed keep track of everything.

 

Again, Lucas seems hellbent on undoing most of what he spend the last six of his films building up. Not only are the practitioners of The Force seen as outsiders and wonks, but the film’s title informs us that The Arc is destined for destruction. What’s more, we spend most of our story away from the boring and flat Aaron Skywalker, and looking more at the machinations of his wife, and the treasonous actions of his immediate aides. The aides are intelligent and resolute, and there’s little question that Aaron will be eventually overthrown in some violent fashion. The Arc, the (rather interesting) tribe of independent psychics are doomed. This is a galaxy without hope and without promise. This is not merely a story where the heroes come to a bad end, but a story in which the heroes do indeed all perish, and the villains are only left to complete their evil schemes. Without the aid of The Dark Side, the Republic became corrupt through ambition and presidential weakness.

 

Frankly, I find this everyday human evil much more interesting than corruption by some evil Dark Force. “Star Wars” is a fantasy to be sure, and “Destruction of the Arc” features some of the snappiest dialogue and fantastic visuals of any sci-fi film, but it seems grounded in real philosophy, which is, I suppose unusual for a “Star Wars” film. Like “Rise of the Other,” there have been accusations by a lot of the hardcore fans that this film is too cerebral. I think after seeing “Rise of the Other,” they have no right to complain. They are getting another wonderful sci-fantasy film.

 

Anyway, the story ends badly for just about everyone. A few key characters are killed in the final battle (I will not reveal who), The Arc is mostly all killed off (both in the battle, and in some frustratingly tragic extermination scenes where several planetoids are blown up), and the last man standing is, strangely enough, Vantus, who reinstates his social status (via the news), and essentially bullies Aaron at light-knifepoint into letting him rule. Vantus ends up the ruler of the Republic. The film’s devastating final shot if of Vantus standing on the balcony of his mansion, looking down on the people he has worked so hard to win over. He doesn’t ask for cheers or approval. The expression on his face is one of beautifully disgusted indifference. We see the eyes of a madman. This is where the Republic has landed. In the hands of a horrific tyrant who is infinitely more chilling than the old school Darth Vader.

 

It’s been the usual tendency of most genre entertainment for nearly the last 20 years to tip into “dark” territory when it can’t think of anything better to do. James Bond was made “dark” twice. Batman was made “dark” twice. The most recent “Spider-Man” (2014) film was all about Peter Parker’s mortality and death. Even Peter Wier’s disappointing “Don Quixote” (2015) was more about folly than humor. I declare that “Destruction of the Arc” for all its bleakness and death and hopelessness is not dark for the sake of it. This is one of the grand instances where the screenwriter thought his story out well in advance, and earned his tragedy though idiomatic minutiae, through tragic flaws, and through actual human foibles. What’s more, the film’s director, a first-time, managed to capture a delirious theatrical bombast rarely seen in any mainstream movies, much less Hollywood sci-fi. The only films I can compare it to are Branagh’s “Hamlet” (1996) and last year’s “Macbeth.”

 

Lindburg deserves, I think, close attention. In “Rise of the Other” his character had little to do, but he likely knew what was coming for his character in subsequent films. Rather than give us winky clues as to Vantus’ inevitable rise to power and fall from grace, Lindburg infuses the character with the steely resolve of a real madman, keeping us unready (and hence shocked) for his subtle shift from supporting character to central villain. This may be the first time a “Star Wars” film receives an Academy Award for acting.

Released less than a year after “Rise of the Other,” “Destruction of the Arc” has some heavy competition from James Cameron’s “Battle Angel” opening two weeks after. I have managed to see both now, and I can assure you that, should it come down to it, “Destruction” is the better film. It’s not a film that needs 3D or D-Box technologies to work (which, I feel, is only an extension of William Castle’s old Percepto gimmick). It’s just a grand, gimmick-free sci-fi tragedy that will move and excite you through old-fashioned storytelling, great special effects, and touching humanity.

 

The final Star Wars trilogy begins in Star Wars: Episode VII – Rise of the Other (2017). Read the review here!

The final Star Wars trilogy concludes in Star Wars: Episode IX – The Fall of Vantus (2020). Read the review here!

 

Witney Seibold is a polite and dashing writer living in Los Angeles. When he’s not writing, he’s watching movies, reading old books, and nurturing his growing disapproval of young people today. He nonce worked as a professional film critic for a local newspaper, and now maintains his own ‘blog (which can be accessed at http://witneyman.wordpress.com), where you can read the nearly 700 articles he has published to date, some of which are professionally written and genuinely insightful, despite the typos. He likes comments, positive and negative, and encourages you to leave some.

Rated PG. Dir. David Cronenberg. 175 minutes.

;It was unfortunate that, when “Destruction of the Arc” was released in November of 2018, it preceded the release of James Cameron’s “Battle Angel” by two weeks. ;“Battle Angel,” like “Titanic” and “Avatar” before it, trounced the competition, became the most financially successful film of all time, and left a gloriously entertaining, oddly delirious, and unexpectedly tragic film like Darren Herczeg’s “Destruction of the Arc” in the dust. “Destruction of the Arc” has been, to date – and despite being one of the best – the lowest-grossing of all the “Star Wars” films. This was a huge blow to the new generation of “Star Wars” fans, a crushing defeat for Fox, another ego bruise to the recovering George Lucas, and a boon to that weird Internet-based backlash that has risen around the new “Star Wars” movies over the last year. Fans started making demands, and writing personal letters to George Lucas as to how they could improve the series for its (ostensible) final chapter.

 It seems that, with “The Fall of Vantus,” Lucas did back down a bit, and gave some of the more demanding fans what they wanted.

Don’t get me wrong. I want to state right at the outset that “The Fall of Vantus” is just as gorgeous as the previous two chapters, and, in many ways, just as intriguing, but it seems clear that some compromises were made, and this film doesn’t quite stack up to the quality and freshness and tragedy of the “Rise of the Other” and “Destruction of the Arc.”

 

The first compromise? Hire David Cronenberg to be the director. Cronenberg is an immensely talented director, and I’m fond of his early films like “Videodrome” and “Dead Ringers,” and even some of his more recent crime films, like “Eastern Promises” and “Far Elsewhere.” He is perfectly suited to take on the reigns of a science fiction franchise that features human/android hybrids, and organic-looking spaceships like The Ovo; a strong running theme of the last two “Star Wars” movies has been the mixture of the organic and the mechanical. Cronenberg has made movies about humans who blend with machines in the past, and I, for one, was looking forward to what sensibility he would bring. What’s more, Cronenberg was once tapped to direct “Return of the Jedi” back in 1982, so this is a grand fan fantasy being brought strangely to life.

 But Cronenberg, who turned 77 this year, has, as a filmmaker, evolved past the need to make big ol’ sci-fi franchise films, and seems to have little passion for the material. He still has the same photographers and SFX wizards on his side, and the Aaron Sorkin screenplay is just as clever and as punchy as can be expected (despite rumors of fan-placating re-writes), but “The Fall of Vantus” feels strangely sedate, and even mildly flat when compared to the old-school bombast of the previous films. Cronenberg has declared several times that physical film is dead, and he prefers working with the quick-to-film and easy-to-alter digital technologies; some may even remember his experimental L.A.-only art-house hit from 2014 “Adventure,” in which he would remix scenes and storylines from his own movie, live in front of the audience. To me, it seems like he approached “The Fall of Vantus” as a chore.

Sorkin also seems to have succumbed to fan demands, as the screenplay for “The Fall of Vantus” seems, only when put in contrast to his last two films, oversimplified. We have now, in the old tradition of “Star Wars” a simple tale of good vs. evil. To be sure, it’s a clever, gorgeous, and rollicking battle, full of fun characters, and eye-popping special effects, but the twisted politics and tragic themes of the last film seem unfortunately subdued. Maybe I’m just nitpicking. Maybe I was just unduly excited by the adult tragedy of “Destruction of the Arc,” and maybe I just can’t get behind a great action film that is great in its own right. Judging by what some of my fellow critics have been saying about the film, “The Fall of Vantus” is the best of these three films.

And how is Michael Giacchino’s score, now that John Williams is no longer with us? It’s perfectly adequate. You can tell that it’s not Williams, but perhaps that is fine.

The story opens a few short months after “Destruction of the Arc.” Vantus (Chad Lindberg, great) has been systematically and secretly picking off all his rivals. He has been framing any remaining Arc members, and even a few other dignitaries in court. Since he is a mutated-looking fellow, no one sees him as a threat. Aaron Skywalker (Max Minghella) is still around, but seems to know he is earmarked for assassination, and spends most of his time hunting strange animals and cooking them for his badgering wife Pruhla (Mika Boorem). It’s kind of refreshing that the weak-willed Aaron has remained weak-willed. Worry not, gentle viewer, he will develop something of a spine.

This film has a sick, weird velocity to it, as most of its first half is devoted to watching Vantus slowly working his way though his hit list, making sure that he has no rivals to his throne. He poisons one rival. He banishes Zvi (Campbell Scott) from the previous two films by leaving him stranded on a life-supporting meteor. He locks Lui (Zena Grey) in a projectile, and “accidentally” fires her into the sun. One rival, an android, he actually dismantles with his own hands as it calmly protests and pleas. It’s a pretty twisted scene.

 Eventually, Pruhla and her boyfriend Bolku (Sam Riely) bully Aaron into leaving the Republic before he is killed, and to fight Vantus. Aaron doesn‘t have the wherewithal to assemble his own army, but he does manage to connect to a droid named Bib Yanni (who was Billy Boyd’s sidekick in the last film, and is created with a combination of CGI and puppetry). Bib Yanni, programmed to be loyal to the memory of Kade-09, manages to track down any and all remaining Arc members, and actually retrieved Lui before she is killed. Again, the film goes out of its way to create real sets, and Cronenberg’s vision of the Arc’s hideout is a gorgeous creation; it indeed looks like they live inside a giant, living creature, and it’s during these scenes that Cronenberg’s promise actually comes through.

Lui and Bib Yanni learn from the few remaining Arc members how to do a mental séance, and actually contact and gain advice from the dead Joan (Amber Heard) who died in “Rise of the Other.” It may feel like placating to the fans who loved her, but it was actually a fantastic move to bring Joan back into the story. I also liked the added twist of the ghost being able to actively influence the story, whereas in the old “Star Wars” films, they would only appear to trade words and give happy, peaceful glances.

Joan tells them how to convert the base – already a living machine in itself – into a warship like The Ovo. The result is larger than The Ovo, and more detailed, but doesn’t feel quite as impressive as the original. They also manage to team up with Pruhla, Bolku, and Aaron along the way; yes, there’s another hugely impressive scene where a scrappy band of outsiders break into a secure location to kidnap or confront someone, in this case to kidnap Aaron. It looks nice and is paced well, but it feels like padding in an otherwise interesting film.

The ghostly Joan also convinces Lui that the Arc needs a leader and, in a truly strange conceit, use their organic machines to merge Bib Yanni and Aaron Skywalker into a cyborg-like being; evidently Aaron had no ability to control The Force, and needed mechanical help. Aaron becomes stronger, more assertive, even wiser. His rebirth scene is painful and gooey and weird, and it adds a visual hope. This new cyberbeing, Cronenberg seems to say, is the hope of the future.

This praise of the mechanical, and celebration of the marriage between the organic and the artificial seems to be the one socially relevant idea that any “Star Wars” film has ever posited. It is seen as a difficult process that can aide people, and give them power, but also as a thing that is hard to do, that is dangerous, and should only be done for the right reasons. What better way to comment on the ubiquity of technology in our own society?

Anyway, the remainder of the film is the new rebels banding together to attack Vantus and bring him down. Vantus has new armies and new weapons, including a beam that acts a lot like the Genesis Wave in “Star Trek II,” and the film’s final battle, which takes a good 20 minutes of screen time, is long and noisy, and feel kind of compulsory, but is no less technically marvelous and emotionally stirring than the battles in the other “Wars.” Eventually the cyborg Aaron, newly confident and powerful thanks to his cybernetic elements, regains control of the Republic (I don’t think I’m giving anything away by telling you that).

Vantus’ fate I will leave you to discover, but, like in “Destruction of the Arc”, the film’s last shot is a close-up of his face, while he looks over a rather unexpected sight, and his ambivalence to what he has done and has experienced. Lindberg, again, knocks it out of the park with a subtle and sinister and morally ambiguous man. I was upset that he did not win the Oscar last year. When he is, mid-battle, crying up to the heavens, renouncing his power for a simple ship, is not only a display of virtuoso acting, but is a moment that might remind you of another deposed tyrant.

One thing I feel I have to address, even though it’s not, strictly speaking, criticizing the movie, and addressing instead various Internet rumors, is the use of the Genesis-like device (called, bluntly enough, the Viver, in what is, I suppose a dark mirror of The Death Star). The beam is fired at rebel ships, and the ships become large masses of living tissues and plants that freeze in the vacuum of space. The beam is fired at full power in the film’s climax, and the Arc rebels manage to dodge it. The beam is shown, in a single, two-second shot, drifting off into space. Then, after the credits, we see a shot of deep space, and a single blip of light appears. Internet fans have posited that the Earth – our Earth – was created in that blip. Lucas has even implied, vaguely, that this is what happened. This is a neat idea, and will perhaps be explored if Fox ever decides to continue this ongoing series, but, I will have to say, there is nothing in the film to support this. That life was created from fighting and chaos is, though, a strange theological undercurrent to an otherwise differently bent movie. Again, maybe I’m just nitpicking.

This film wraps up the series pretty well, I think. It implies that the turmoil of politics in this universe is always in a state of upheaval, and, in a very mythic way, that heroes are constantly rising, and tyrants constantly falling. It gives an almost Arthurian feeling to the storyarc, and gives a large feeling of epic revolution, rather than just a thrilling adventure about a few choice characters. I did like that the rebels from “Star Wars” kind of changed into the bad guys, and new rebels were needed to replace them; it warns us against corruption, indicates an un avoidable entropy, and reminds us that heroes are always going to be needed.

This sort of destruction of the promised Utopia at the end of “Return of the Jedi” does not, necessarily, cheapen that film’s victory. It does what, I think, Lucas had in mind this entire time, which is to tell small chapters of a large, large story. Now, rather than being the definer of “Star Wars,” the story of Darth Vader, The Emperor, Luke Skywalker, Yoda, and all the rest, is just another step in this galaxy’s enormous groundwork. In that regard, “The Fall of Vantus” resembles actual history.

“Rise of the Other” was a great sci-fantasy film. “Destruction of the Arc” was a greater sci-fantasy adventure tragedy. “The Fall of Vantus” is an exciting adventure that whimpers more than it bangs, but is still a grand film in a huge mythology. Having now seen every “Star Wars” film, I can finally say that the series entire is a huge, wondrous endeavor that now feels strangely complete. Good on Lucas.

 

The final Star Wars trilogy begins in Star Wars: Episode VII – Rise of the Other (2017). Read the review here!

The final Star Wars trilogy concludes in Star Wars: Episode IX – The Fall of Vantus (2020). Read the review here!

Witney Seibold is an imaginative writer living in Los Angeles with his lovely wife. He enjoys reading old books, watching movies, and talking endlessly about the sorry state of Hollywood. He harbors a deep love of great donuts. For nearly a decade, he has been maintaining his own movie review ‘blog, where he writes astutely about recent releases, classic films, entire film series, and other, more trifling things. You can access his ‘blog here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com

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I am about to discuss something that is too nerdy even for most dyed-in-the-wool geeks. Like college a cappella, the fineries of obscure chess variants, grand opera, Furry artwork, or filking, this is well past the forests of mere popular culture, and deep, deep into the mires of geek territory. I am going to write an article on radio drama.

 

It somewhat baffles me as to why the art of radio drama is not more popular than it is. These days, the art is mostly seen as either dated, being regulated to late-night reruns of old-timey, public domain shows from the 1940s broadcast on AM radio, or to live performances by modern-day comedians and hipster hobbyists, who are still stuck on the old-timey format. In this age of science-fiction ubiquity, and fantasy entertainment reigning supreme across most every facet of popular culture, it’s a wonder that more amateurs aren’t composing hugely ambitious sci-fi mythologies for the audio-only form.

 

I love radio drama. Radio is a medium that requires more imagination than television; it requires more mental input from the audience, and is thusly more stimulating to the listener. It is hugely versatile, and, with modern digital recording equipment being as available to the public the way it is, much easier to produce than video. We have hundred of ambitious commentators posting podcasts on iTunes every day. Are there any people interested in audio plays anymore?

 

As it turns out, there are. There are a few hard-working radio drama pioneers still entrenched out there, though, and it is they who are keeping the form alive. There are also still many classics from decades past lurking out there in the ether, which are, thanks to the mad cataloging that supports the internet, largely available for immediate listening. In the spirit of supporting an oft-ignored storytelling mode, I have compiled a list of the ten greatest radio dramas ever produced. For most of you, I understand this list will serve as an introduction. By all means, I implore you to explore this underrated and underutilized medium.

 

10) Brave New World (1956)

In 1956, Aldous Huxley adapted his famous 1932 novel for radio. It aired on CBS Radio on January 27^th, and February 3^rd. By 1956, the warning of the novel had already started to prove themselves true, and Huxley was understandably bitter that few people had bothered to heed him. In an introduction, he posits that the lessons are just as relevant today as they were 25 years previous, and you can hear the bitterness in his voice.

 

The actors in the show are all CBS regulars, and many lack the sardonic oomph of Huxley dystopia fantasies, but the words speak for themselves in this case. In 1956, a lot of the sex talk had to be dampened as well, but, as with most thing audio, all we need is a small hint at what’s going on, and we can picture it all too vividly in our heads. By the end of the show, we finally get the tragedy thrust in our ears, and the false, melodramatic sadness of the actors gives way to gut-wrenching dread.

 

All fans of sci-fi should read Brave New World. All fans of Brave New World should track down this radio adaptation.

 

Listen to part one here: http://recordbrother.typepad.com/imagesilike/files/brave_new_world_side_1.mp3

Listen to part two here: http://recordbrother.typepad.com/imagesilike/files/brave_new_world_side_2.mp3

 

 

9) The Origin of Superman, Retold (1945)

By 1940, the famed 1938 comic book character had already taken the world by storm. Superman became a household name, and the idea of a new type of alien sci-fi pop hero was introduced to the masses. The comic was for the kids, as was the Fleischer cartoon that was to be produced in the ensuing years. The first real actorly dramatization of The Man of Steel was the radio serial. The show was a huge hit, and ran for 11 years, starting on WOR in New York, and landing on ABC by its end.

 

The best episode of the show was easily the 1945 episode “Superman Comes to Earth” which was a re-telling of his origin story, greatly expanded from the first episode two years before. In its own way, hearing Jor-El cooing to his baby, as he puts it in the pod moments before Krypton blows up is far more heartbreaking than any other version. The two-part form also allowed for much more of the story to be told, and allowed the narrator, Jackson Beck to fill us in.

 

It was first here that audiences heard the phrases “Faster than a speeding bullet!” and “Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!”

 

The voice of Superman was played by Bud Collyer, who may be the man responsible for inventing Kryptonite. Most radio serials didn’t operate on a seasonal/rerun form, and when an actor needed a break, they merely weren’t in that week’s episode. When Superman himself was to absent, he was laid up in bed after a bad case of kryptonite poisoning. Clever. And now iconic.

 

Here is the episode

 

8) Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar: The Todd Matter (1956)

Most heroes of the past were kind of square, milquetoast types. Heck, even Superman was irrepressibly moral and obnoxiously virtuous. Occasionally, you’d have a Harry Lime, or wicked, nourish antihero, but the bulk of them were squares that most modern geek darkness-junkies can’t really get behind. What “Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar” (1949-1962) did was make a virtuous character seem interesting. He was more that a broad type. He was a well rounded person.

 

The show followed the strange adventures of the titular insurance investigator, who would investigate unusual claims. Inevitably, the claim would reveal some criminal conspiracy, and Johnny (Charles Russell) would have to use his smarts to come out on top.

 

The best episode was probably the most notorious, as it was one of the first shows to feature a special guest star, in this case, Bob Bailey. I don’t want to give away any of the story, but do implore you to track down any episode of this show. It’s like a cross between Perry Mason and Dr. Who. Just without the sci-fi stuff.

 

“Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar” was one of the last shows to leave the airwaves, lasting all the way until 1962. Its final episode was followed by the final episode of the long-running “Suspense!” Many cite that fateful evening in 1962 as the end of the Golden Age of Radio

 

Listen to “The Todd Matter” here:

Part 1: http://ia700301.us.archive.org/20/items/OTRR_YoursTrulyJohnnyDollar_Singles/560109_303_The_Todd_Matter_Episode_1.mp3

Part 2: http://ia700301.us.archive.org/20/items/OTRR_YoursTrulyJohnnyDollar_Singles/560110_304_The_Todd_Matter_Episode_2.mp3

Part 3: http://ia700301.us.archive.org/20/items/OTRR_YoursTrulyJohnnyDollar_Singles/560111_305_The_Todd_Matter_Episode_3.mp3

Part 4: http://ia700301.us.archive.org/20/items/OTRR_YoursTrulyJohnnyDollar_Singles/560112_306_The_Todd_Matter_Episode_4.mp3

Part 5: http://ia700301.us.archive.org/20/items/OTRR_YoursTrulyJohnnyDollar_Singles/560113_307_The_Todd_Matter_Episode_5.mp3

 

7) Escape: “Three Skeleton Key” (1950)

A 30-minute program that ran from 1947 until 1954, “Escape” was a show that was trim on its premise. Every episode featured a person in peril, usually at the hands of some natural disaster or animal attack, and would trace their adventure as they either were devoured or had escaped. It was kind of predictable, and some of the setups were a little weird; in one episode a group of jungle dwelling imperialists had to escape from billions of ants. It was only when classic adaptations entered (“The Fall of the House of Usher,” “The Most Dangerous Game”) that the show shined.

 

But one episode is the clear champion of the series: “Three Skeleton Key,” featuring Vincent Price. A team of lighthouse workers are beset by a ghost ship that crashes on the rock below. Pouring from the ship was millions upon millions of rats that immediately coated the lighthouse. The show is then a slow burn on the part of the actors, as they are driven mad by their inability to escape the terrifying noises of the rats gnawing on the walls.

 

There is something gut-wrenching about radio horror that is lost in the visceral gore of film. Perhaps it’s our imaginations filling in the gaps. Perhaps it’s just my own sensitivity to those growling rats. Either way, “Three Skeleton Key” is a horror waiting to be rediscovered.

 

Listen to it here: http://www.escape-suspense.com/files/three_skeleton_key.mp3

 

6) The Knox Riots (1926)

Sadly, this show has been lost to time, as early radio broadcasts were not kept in an archive, but the story of Fr. Ronald Knox and his infamous radio hoax should be briefly discussed in any rundown of radio history.

 

In 1926, most home radios were listened to on headphones, making for an intimate experience. For the first time, people could stay abreast of breaking news, and experience professional music on a daily basis right in their homes. It was this early framework that allowed the playful priest Ronald Knox to perpetrate what is considered one of the greatest hoaxes of all time. He wrote and performed a fake news story (which he believed was a wry satire, all in good taste) that claimed that a class uprising had begun, and people took to the streets in protest. There was a public lynching, and Big Ben was destroyed.

 

The report was not taken with lightness by the public, and the story of the fake riot nearly caused a real one. 1926 was a touchy time in terms of class relations, so most people weren’t in the mood to joke. Knox appeared on the radio the next day to explain that what he had performed was an art piece, and he apologized. Radio historians feel that he was only half sincere, and was proud of the panic he caused.

 

The American press has a field day with the hoax. This was, mind you a decade before “War of the Worlds.”

 

In 2005, the BBC did discover some of the original transcriptions of the broadcast, and recreated it for modern listeners. You can download the recreation from the BBC website. It’s rather funny.

 

Read my further report here: http://90ways.com/critarchive/crit103.php

 

5) Ruby 4 (1994)

The ZBS Foundation was formed in the early 1970s by a small group of ambitious hippies hoping to make radio drama, hard-hitting interviews, all while living on an ambitious commune. The commune only lasted a few years, but the radio foundation has remained in operation to this very day, regularly producing a particular brand of spiritually bent, intellectually stimulating, and utterly whimsical fantasy stories that everyone would do well to listen to.

 

Like any long-working writer, the foundation’s one author, Meatball Fulton, had a series of stock characters he would often return to. The most popular of which was the Galactic Gumshoe, Ruby. Ruby (Laura Esterman, a.k.a. Blanche Blackwell) was a sassy P.I. living on the planet of Summa Nulla in the distant future. She had the ability to slow time. Together with her band of misfits – including an ambitious techie, a lecherous archeologist, and a sniveling rat monster – she would uncover all manner of multidimensional conspiracies and disgusting supervillains, the mob, and sometimes even gods.

 

The fourth in the Ruby series was the longest and the most epic adventure of the lot, which had Ruby traveling to the seventh dimension to halt the energy leeching perpetrated by an evil race of intelligent reptiles. The music (by Tim Clark) and the characters are all indelible, and fit no known mould. The story can dip into the ridiculous, but when the ghost of Nikola Tesla shows up on the planet Venus, all will be forgiven.

 

For anyone with an extra $50 burning a hole in their pocket, I cannot recommend highly enough that you go to http://www.zbs.org/ and plunk it down on a copy of “Ruby 4.” You won’t regret it.

 

You can listen to a few samples here,

One: https://www.zbs.org/catalog/audioSamples/R4_Part_One.mp3

A second: https://www.zbs.org/catalog/audioSamples/R4_Part_Three.mp3

A third: https://www.zbs.org/catalog/audioSamples/R4_Part_Four.mp3

 

 

4) War of the Worlds (1938)

Yes, the Orson Welles version. The story is pretty familiar to everyone. On Halloween night in 1938, Orson Welles and his nascent Mercury Theater On the Air created a radio drama – based on the famous novel by H.G. Wells – in the form of a news broadcast, informing the citizens of the world that aliens being had landed in the U.S., and were vaporizing people by the score. Since the Mercury Theater ran opposite the Edger Bergen and Charlie McCarthy show, most of the listening audience was listening to the comedy on the more popular program, hence missing Welles’ introduction stating that it was all a drama. Buy the time the musical portion of McCarthy had ended, people switched stations, and freaked out.

 

Just like the Knox Riots before it (and the Brits had just as enjoyable a field day with this as the Americans did with the Knox Riots), “War of the Worlds” caused a minor panic, causing some distressed listeners to briefly horde guns, and hide out in their basements from the alien menace. Welles was forced to give an apology, but, in that inimitable way of his, gave it kind of backhandedly.

 

Listening to the show again, you’ll find that it’s still a powerful drama, and a clever way to present a story to an audience; it finally takes advantage of the media in a way that is hardly explored any longer. Welles, while an arrogant prick, was also a brilliant young artist who could break boundaries with a smirk and a wink. Only a few years later, he would unleash “Citizen Kane” on the world.

 

Here it is, if you haven’t heard it: http://ia341316.us.archive.org/3/items/OrsonWellesMrBruns/381030.mp3

 

3) Johnny Got His Gun (1940)

A word you hear a lot these days is “unfilmable.” Occasionally a filmmaker will come through with a film of something that was previously thought to be too abstract to put on the screen. “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” is a good example. This year’s “127 Hours” is another. But back in the day, it was questioned if Dalton Trumbo’s 1938 book “Johnny Got his Gun” could be adapted to radio. It was an internal monologue spoken by a young man who had lost his limbs, face, sight and hearing in a WWI bomb blast. It was stridently anti-war, and presented some very real damages that wars do to soldiers.

 

In 1940, Arch Oboler adapted the story to radio, for his short-lived show “Arch Oboler’s Plays.” It was one of the finest shows ever produced. The monologue was spoken by James Cagney, and it was told in flashback, and from the perspective of the injured soldier’s doctors. The radio show ends on a much more positive note than the book (which had the soldier banging his head in Morse code, begging for euthanasia), having him finally learn to communicate with the outside world.

 

While Trumbo himself directed a fine film version of “Johnny Got His Gun,” this 1940 radio edition reaches a deeper emotional level. It’s political without losing its touching emotions. It’s harrowing without being horrific. It’s a virtuoso piece of voice acting from a character who is, essentially, just a voice in his head. Listening to this story on radio makes you feel like you are that solider. This is not something film can accomplish.

 

Listen to it!: http://cotr.otrshareandtrade.com/Old%20Time%20Radio/Arch%20Oboler%27s%20Plays/Arch%20Obolers%20Plays%2040-03-09%20%2851%29%20Johnny%20Got%20His%20Gun.mp3

 

 

2) Moon Over Morocco (1972)

A ten-hour epic, “Moon Over Morocco” is a gorgeous spiritual journey out of the ZBS stable, and its best. Another of the studio’s stock character, traveler Jack Flanders (Robert Lorick) travels the world looking for the secrets to spiritual magic which, he finds, still exists in faraway esoteric places. “Moon Over Morocco” is possessed of the trademark ZBS sense of humor, but feels far more natural than most. The sounds were all recorded in Tangier, and the story is based on real Berber mythologies from deep within the ancient desert. You can practically smell the dried, scented winds of Morocco.

 

The story had Jack traveling deep into the desert with two companions in tow. He accidentally finds a mystical storyteller who somehow spirits him off to another dimension where he finds himself split into two halves, leading two armies in a magical battle. There is clearly more to it than this (as it is, after all, ten hours long), but that will do for now. Also on the ZBS website is a collection of samples.

 

Jack Flanders is a great character. He is socially naïve, but spiritually aloof, as he stumbles through most of his multidimensional trappings with utter confusion, but still seems wiser than most of the character around him. Jack would go on to star in dozens more shows, and is still in shows being made today. This is a backwater of fantasy epics that is too rarely explored.

 

A sample: https://www.zbs.org/catalog/audioSamples/MOM_Episode_1.mp3

 

1) Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)

And the top of the heap is actually a rather obscure one. In 1948, Agnes Moorehead gave one of the great hysterical performances in this cheap little throw-off thriller that appeared on the “Suspense” program. What was intended to be just another episode has, in retrospect, become one of the most ingenious uses of radio that the medium has to offer.

 

Moorehead plays an unassuming woman on the telephone who overhears an accidentally crossed wire of two gangster types who are planning to kill someone in less than 30 minutes time. The rest of the show is Moorehead’s increasingly desperate real-time struggle to find someone on the phone who will help her. Eventually, there is a twist, which I would dare not spoil, only to say that it’s a brilliant piece of writing.

 

There were eight versions of “Sorry, Wrong Number” recorded over the years, including a feature film. I haven’t heard them all, but the original is the best I’ve heard.

 

Not only is this a wonderful piece of over-the-top acting on Moorehead’s part, as well and a brilliantly written real-time thriller, but, like “Johnny Got his Gun,” is a story that is ideally suited for radio, and exploits the medium to the fullest of its potential. All we hear are voices, as if we are a helpless telephone operator, unable to help this poor hysterical woman. It turns the microphone on us, and makes the listener into the voyeur that they so clearly are. It takes little to be self-referential, but if you can do it while not making it look like you are, then you’ve achieved a level of genius.

 

Download it from this website: http://www.escape-suspense.com/2008/11/suspense—sorry-wrong-number.html

 

 

Witney Seibold is a hard-working and nerdy, nerdy man living in Los Angeles, where he listens to old radio, reads old books, and is mocked by his peers for not being more up-to-date. He has written two award winning radio scripts with the National Audio Theater Festival. He writes an awful lot, not only for Geekscape, but for his own ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! Which includes over 700 articles to date. You can access his site here:http://witneyman.wordpress.com/

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Christmas is nearly upon us. Chanukah was last week. The winter Solstice just occurred. We are surrounded by holidays of varying stripes. Thanks to the diversity of religions on this planet, we have a wondrous dearth of things to celebrate. With every holy walk of life comes a slew of holy days, many of which involve either giving gifts, or perhaps just getting blitzed and singling the “Five Golden Rings” line from “The Twelve Days of Christmas” as loudly and as off-key as possible.

 

Some of the hard-working film and TV writers of the world, though, in fits of theological pique, have devised many imaginary religions for us to ponder. Some are belief systems of the future; as people change, and churches fracture, it’s entirely possible that new religions will spring up. Some are smaller cult-like religions, bent on the destruction of mankind, but something tells me that the celebrations in such cults would be wonderfully debauched evenings to rival your most debauched New Year’s parties. At least until you’re selected for the sacrifice.

 

Here then, are the top ten imaginary religions.

 

10) The Nietzscheans

from “Andromeda” (2000 – 2005)

Friedrich Nietzsche is one of the least understood and most misinterpreted philosophers of his generation. What most people (who haven’t read much of his works) remember is that he wrote books with titles like Why I Am so Wise, and promoted ideas of The Will to Power, placing superior “master” minds over weaker, complacent “herd” minds. This led laymen to believe that he was in favor of egoism and domination of the strong over the weak.

 

The Nietzscheans in Gene Roddenberry’s middling sci-fi space opera “Andromeda” took this idea of Social Darwinism, and worked it into their very genetic code; they enhanced themselves to match Nietzsche’s idea of the überman, and operate from a social position of calm, knowing authority. The show may have been only fair, but these religious followers of Friedrich Nietzsche was a cute little intellectual bone thrown to the philosophy nerds in the audience.

 

Nietzsche famously declared that God was dead, which makes a religion based around his philosophy extra ironic. What fun.

 

9) The Cult of Nix

from “Lord of Illusions” (1995)

Horror films are rife with dangerous satanic cults (indeed, there are more awaiting on this list), but there are a few standouts amongst the tribes of robe-wearing, candle-waving chanters. One of the most notable is, I feel, the cult of Nix from Clive Barker’s underrated 1995 feature film “Lord of Illusions.” This was a cult of weirdos who actually seemed personable and dangerous and wicked cool.

 

Nix (Daniel von Bargen) was a hard-working magician of the old stripe. He was a dirty, fat guy – hardly an intellectual – who used his simple powers of juggling fire and levitating to rope a group of sex-minded ’70s swingers into following him. He would give prophecies about the coming of The Puritan. That is until one of his cultists rose up against him, and buried him alive. Oops.

 

Nix was pretty scary in and of himself, but “Lord of Illusions” bothers to follow the backstories of some of his followers, and we find that they are a quietly menacing bunch of larval homicidal maniacs. In a simple montage late in the film, we see Nix’s followers casually killing their bosses and families, only to return, years after the fact, to the Nix compound to continue the blood-soaked orgies they once had.

 

As far and dangerous cults go, the Nix cult is one you don’t want to fuck with.

 

8) The Church of Tommy

from “Tommy” (1975)

See me. Feel me. Touch me. Heal Me.

 

When Tommy Walker (The Who guitarist Roger Daltrey) was a young boy, he accidentally saw his mother (Ann-Margret) and her friend (Oliver Reed) making out in a bedroom. They were concerned about their secret getting out, and insisted that he saw and heard nothing, and will say nothing. As a result, Tommy became hysterically blind, deaf and dumb. He lived this way into adulthood, becoming, naturally, a pinball champion. When he spontaneously regained his senses one afternoon, he was already a hugely admired cult-leader-like pop icon, and decided to use his powers to promote peace love and understanding. The only price of admission was that you had to wear blinders, earplugs and gags, and learn to be pinball wizards yourselves.

 

The Who’s psychedelic rock opera is an epic, queasy experience as it is, with themes of love, drugs, religion, familial control, consumerism, and features not only a scene in which Jack Nicholson sings, but also is infamous for the scene in which Ann-Margret writhes around sexually in a gloppy bog of baked beans.

 

When you heap a worldwide cult on top of this psycho malaise, it makes that cult seem all the more whacked-out. For a delirious few moments while watching “Tommy,” you may find yourself actually understanding the backward dream logic of joining a cult about blind pinball wizardry. You get to play pinball AND achieve enlightenment? Sign me up!

 

7) The various religions from “Dune”

from Dune (1965)

Frank Herbert, in his seminal sci-fi novel, invented what is probably the single most complicated sci-fi canon in the genre’s pop history. He not only invented several different galactic cultures, complete with religions, politics, and social mores, but the political conflicts that they experienced when exposed to one another. If you read the book, you may find yourself glancing at the enclosed glossary frequently.

 

The most notable religion is that followed by The Fremen, the desert-dwelling people of Arrakis. They worship the colossal underground worm monsters that dwell in the desert, and incorporate the worm’s excretions into their religious rites. They have a messiah mythology, and pray for the time when the Kwisatz Haderach will arise. Like most of the religions in the Dune universe, this is a somber and serious one.

 

There are also a race of psychic witches wandering around the margins called the Bene Gesserit, who are keen on messianic figures, but are often hired by local royalty to read minds on their behalf. There are also mentally imprinted soul-slave Mentats, a race of Spice-mutated space travelers, and Paul knows what else. As the series of books continue, and the centuries of history begin to pile up, we’re introduced to newer and newer sects of these religions, and we get to see a well-though out (if not totally bugnuts insane) history of these imaginary religions.

 

No mere afterthought, these ar eimaginary religions with actual theological history.

 

6) He Who Walks Behind the Rows

from “The Children of the Corn” (1977, 1984)

I have not read the original 1977 Stephen King short story of “The Children of the Corn,” but I have seen the Fritz Kiersch 1984 feature film based on it. This was a story that took some and-the-child-shall-lead conceits previously seen in countless short stories and episodes of “Star Trek,” and brought it them to dizzyingly horrific extremes. These are some other dangerous kids whom you don’t want to mess with.

 

In the film version, a happy married couple (Peter Horton and Linda Hamilton) find themselves lost in the middle of Nebraska in a town called Gatlin. Gatlin is a weird little town, as there don’t seem to be any adults around. Indeed, the children of Gatlin seem to be up to something, what with their weirdly upbeat blood rituals in convenience stores, and their constant talk of “He Who Walks Behind the Rows.”

 

It turns out that a boy preacher named Isaac (John Franklin) and his rock-stupid lieutenant Malachi (Courtney Gains) have been communing with an unseen monster who lives in the local corn fields. It’s unclear if the monster is actually telling them what to do, of if these kids just took the initiative, but either way, they have taken it upon themselves to kill every adult they encounter, and then commit suicide after they live just barely long enough to reproduce. I’m willing to bet that most alienated teenager, at least for a glimmering moment, would entertain such a dark fantasy.

 

As the “Children of the Corn” films continued, we did eventually see He Who Walks Behind the Rows (first in part III), and it turns out it was a giant gopher monster. I think I liked it better when it was unseen.

 

5) The Followers of Zardoz

from “Zardoz” (1974)

 

If you’ve been looking for the 1970s braintrip, big-budget experimental cult film that will creepily touch the swimsuit area of your brain, then John Boorman’s “Zardoz” is the film for you. It’s a sci-fi film about a dangerous, barrel-chested savage (Sean Connery), that breaks into a futuristic compound of Eloi-like immortals, who have grown wispy and complacent, thanks to their immortality technology. A clash of personalities ensues, although its depicted in a series of largely unconnected psychedelic imagery that’ll leave you punching your own skull.

 

The cult in the film is the cult of the titular Zardoz. Zardoz is a large floating stone head that lays decrees to the savages below. The savages scream prayers to the floating head, and make requests. The stone head coughs up guns. The savages rape and kill at Zardoz’ behest. Zardoz then floats away.

 

Spoiler alert: It turns out that Zardoz is being controlled by a bored immortal who is just playing games with the savages for his own theological amusement. He got the name of his godhead from an old book. The WiZARD of OZ. The film was already crazy enough, and the cult nonsensical. The added bonus of this bourgeois complacency only kicks the Zardoz cult up a few notches on this list.

 

4) The Bomb Worshipers

from “Beneath the Planet of the Apes” (1970)

The 1968 original “Planet of the Apes,” is an unargued cinematic classic. It perfectly balances the serious conceits of its sci-fi with the ridiculous images of intelligent talking apes. Its 1970s follow-up “Beneath the Planet of the Apes” is not as strong, but goes a little further in terms of its mindfudgery, and introduces us to one of the best cults in sci-fi history.

 

Taylor (Charlton Heston) finds a mysterious passageway into the center of the planet of the apes, which he now knows is Earth in the distant future. Meanwhile another human astronaut named John Brent (James Franciscus) from centuries past has landed on the planet, and he finds himself in a similar pickle that Taylor found himself in the last film. It’s not long before John and the apes find themselves searching for Taylor beneath the planet’s surface.

 

Of course, what they find is unexpected. It turns out there’s a race of highly-evolved, ghoulish human being in robes, with telekinetic powers living beneath the planet’s surface. They are a hateful, sterile lot, and aim to kill the intruders. They have taken spiritual consolation in worshiping – get this – an unexploded nuclear bomb left over from the wars that originally wiped out the humans. I suppose if the bomb imagery from the first film was too subtle, you have “Beneath the Planet of the Apes” for your enjoyment.

 

A bomb cult of mutant superpowered humans. This is why we go to the movies.

 

3) Jedi

from “Star Wars” (1977)

What list of imaginary religions would be complete without mention of The Jedi from the “Star Wars” movies? Here we have a race of telekinetic warrior monks, complete with otherworldly light swords, who are barely keeping the faith in The Force alive through the crushing grip of a tyrannical galactic empire. This is the stuff of ancient sci-fi novels, and joyous afternoon serials, taken to a grander extreme. Not a sci-fi geek in the world doesn’t love Jedi.

 

Indeed, the power of the Jedi has become so popular that some people have tried to start actual Jedi churches. There was even an urban myth floating around at one point how, in certain states, if you filled out “Jedi” as your religion on your DMV applications, then the state would have to recognize it as an official religion. Unfortunately for thousands of “Star Wars” fans, this is not true. Although, there are plenty of wonderfully weird-ass real-life religions you can put on official documents. Look up The Church of the SubGenius sometime.

 

As a theology, Jediism is pretty weak; it’s essentially a simplified combination of pantheism and Buddhism. As a kick-ass space warrior philosophy in a series of popular sci-fi movies, though, it is first rate.

 

2) The Church of Robotolgy

from “Futurama” (1999 – )

The Church of Robotology is essentially a robots-only version of certain Pentecostal churches of today. There’s the usual preaching, the usual churches, and the usual sermons, only its populated entirely by robots. I love the thinking behind a race of man-made machines needing to worship. Everyone needs spiritual and moral guidance, I suppose, even if it’s a pile of foul-mouthed machines.

 

This conceit is entertaining enough, but The Church of Robotology does more than just promise a Hell for sinners, and has actually built a working Robot Hell, and an immortal Robot Devil (played gleefully by Dan Castellanetta), to actually physically damn its sinners. This may seem like a point against it, but I am so very tickled by the concept of a Robot Hell, that I had to include it very high on this list.

 

What’s more, Robot Hell is less like a Dante story, and more like escaped scenes from “Forbidden Zone.” There are peppy musical numbers, musical challenges to the devil, and wicked looking robot monsters lurking around every corner. I don’t think I’d like the robot tortures in Robot Hell, but it seems like a fun place to visit.

 

1) The Cult of Cthulhu

from “The Call of Cthulhu” (1926)

Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn! Say that ten times fast.

 

H.P. Lovecraft was a bitter, reclusive, racist, henpecked atheist living in his aunt’s attic. He was frequently ill, and rarely left his room. He was also one of the best fantasy authors of the age, having created a series of flowery, pungent tales of ancient inhuman gods who were only biding their time until they could reclaim the Earth, and wipe out the humans in their wake. Lovecraft’s prose is, like Shakespeare, eager to be read. Yes, I just compared Lovecraft to Shakespeare.

 

His elder gods were not, however, mere monsters of the week. In reading all of his tales (but most notably The Lurker at the Threshold, which he wrote with friend August Derleth), you begin to discover a complicated mythology of interconnected mosters, complete with a workable hierarchy of madness-inducing superlogic and unnamable superpowers. While it wasn’t the most powerful of the elder god, Cthulhu (pronounced like a gutteral expectoration) was certainly the most popular.

 

Cthulhu is a giant, gelatinous, octopoidal bat creature who hides behind a large stone gate out in the middle of the sea. Luckily for the monster, there are a race of backwoods weirdos living in Louisiana who gather regularly to invoke ancient, near-unpronouncable texts, burn sacrifices, and be generally unapprochably creepy. They long for the days when the elder gods will return, this group of largely-unseen maniacs, and they have a regular debaucherous walpurgisnacht to celebrate the coming. It’s like the Christmas of Cthulhu.

 

Fantasy literature is peppered with wicked cults and Satan worshipers, but Lovecraft managed to codify and exemplify just what a crazy backward cult should be worshiping. They are the best cult in literature.

And what would YOU like from R’Lyeh?

N.B. If anyone can explain the theology behind the Transformers, Please explain it to me.

 

Witney Seibold is a churchgoer who lives in the United States. He writes an awful lot, and watches many, many movies. He reads old books. He is laidback and polite. He once worked as a professional film critic for a now-defunct, valley-based newspaper. He now keeps his writing chops sharp by posting film reviews on his very own ‘blog Three Cheers for Darkened Years! Which can be accessed here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/ He encourages you to leave comments both here on Geescape, and on his website, both positive and negative.

J.J. Abrams made a show called “Lost.” You may have heard of it. It lasted for years, and had a devout cult following. The next TV series he produced was a sexy spy thriller called “Undercovers.” It was canceled after only a few episodes.

 

Some hard-working artists or companies can spend years building up a reputation. They carefully, over many calculated decades, nurture a large body of work that is dear to themselves, and borne either of their idiosyncratic passion or their mere stubborn tenacity. To the frustration of these hard-working artists, though others manage to hit it out of the park in one single blow, thrusting them into the public eye with a single film, product or property that briefly rattles the pop culture zeitgeist.

 

This new-found success is what I’m interested in, as it provides humility-devouring, ego-stroking hubris for otherwise humble and earnest artists. It’s like winning the lottery. Sure, you have untold riches at your disposal, but are you going to spend it wisely on fine things, or are you going to buy that ultra-tacky nine-foot-tall statue of Scrooge McDuck that you’ve always wanted? Inevitably, that hubris leads to one’s inflated self-importance, and the just-as-inevitable minor downfall. The list below collects products, films, and other properties from popular culture that were all oddball follow-ups, or mere misguided sequels that failed to catch the magic of the artist’s original success.

 

10) “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” (2006, ’07)

Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin created a hit TV show in 1999 called “The West Wing” which chronicled the moral adventures of a left-wing president named Jed Bartlet. It served, in many ways, as a refreshing parallel universe to the harsh political realities of the Bush, Jr. administration. The show lasted for seven seasons, and won multiple awards for its writing and for this talented cast. The show caused a firestorm in the TV community, and made Sorkin’s name a household one.

 

After “The West Wing” went off the air, eyes turned to Sorkin to capture his magic again, and he turned his eyes on the world of TV itself, creating “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip,” which was a behind-the-scenes mockumentary of an SNL-type sketch comedy show. Self-parody. That sounds like a good enough idea.

 

Despite a few award nominations, and raves by certain critics, “Studio 60,” which starred Matthew Perry and the underrated Amanda Peet, only lasted a single season, and went unseen by most people, including Sorkin’s newly-formed fanbase. I guess TV audiences weren’t hip enough to see the skewering of TV backrooms, and TV producers didn’t appreciate the accuracy of the satire. Whatever the reason, Sorkin had to back away from “Studio 6” with his tail in between his legs. At least he’ll win an Academy Award this year, so he’s still doing o.k.

9) “U.S. Acres” (1986-1989)

There was a time in this country when you couldn’t go anywhere without running into Jim Davis’ seminal newspaper comic strip “Garfield.” The character has become iconic, and, thanks to a ubiquitous licensing deal from United Features Syndicate, you can’t enter a card shop without seeing Garfield somewhere in there. Garfield has even had two feature films, several animated TV specials, and a seasons-long Saturday morning cartoon show. Garfield, I must admit, was one of my first loves in the comics section.

 

In the mid-1980s, though, right when “Garfield” was exploding, Jim David decided – perhaps foolishly – to diversify. Davis was raised on a farm in Indiana, and was always drawn to rural farm life, so he created a strip devoted to the merry antics of several anthropomorphic barnyard animals, including a neat-freak pig named Orson, a high-strung duck named Wade, and a cocky cock named Roy Rooster. The strip did run in several major newspapers, and managed to stay in print for years, but, as can be predicted, was never as welcomed into people’s hearts the same way that “Garfield” was.

 

Perhaps it was the lack of Jon Arbuckle’s nerdy malaise, or Garfield’s charming, naturalistic misanthropy, but the corn-fed “U.S. Acres” just went splat. The characters did manage to have regular appearances on the “Garfield and Friends” animated program, but the strip faded into obscurity.

 

8) “Zoda’s Revenge: StarTropics II” (1994)

“StarTropics” (1990) is, in my mind, still one of the best video games ever produced. It’s oddball levels were disparate and challenging (you had to sink a haunted pirate ship, find your way around the intestines of a whale, find a worm in order to get some vital information from an intelligent parrot, and eventually fight space aliens), the monsters were creatively designed, and the game was just the right level of difficulty. What’s more, the game cartridge came with a real-life letter from your character’s uncle, which you eventually had to dip in water to advance in the game. That’s an innovative, real-life mechanic that I have not seen replicated since. That Nintendo decided not to continue this franchise baffles me.

 

Well, in 1994, they actually did make a sequel, called “Zoda’s Revenge: StarTropics II,” which featured a fun time-travel conceit, and run-ins with historical figures like Leonardo DaVinci, King Arthur and Cleopatra. This sequel, however, was limp and odd in comparison. The conceits didn’t have the same fun feel as the original, and felt more like a forgettable episode of “Peabody and Sherman.” The colors were flat and bland, the puzzles were stultifyingly easy, while the bosses were impossibly hard.

 

“StarTropics” was a big success, but Nintendo was too busy focusing on their new SNES console (and developing what would become the Nintendo 64) to really put any energy into making “StarTropics II,” which was to be one of the final NES games produced by the company. This is the way a generation of gameplaying ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

 

7) Zwan (2001- 2003)

The Smashing Pumpkins were considered at the forefront of the 1990s grunge movement, and were often mentioned alongside Nirvana and Pearl Jam when the genre was ever discussed. They were a widely-loved band, who hit their biggest success in 1995 with their double album “Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness,” which went nonuple platinum. That’s an amazing success for any record, but is all the more impressive for a pretentious, double-long concept album.

 

Like any hugely successful album, it was hard to replicate that success, and The Smashing Pumpkins’ following albums “Adore” and “Machina” were not greeted with any warmth, and did not sell as well. The band broke up in 2000, leaving behind a fond legacy, and a few great songs.

 

The band’s frontman, Billy Corgan, could not leave well enough alone, though, and decided to form an ambitious supergroup in 2001 with Smashing Pumpkins’ member Jimmy Chamberlin and members of the bands Tortoise and A Perfect Circle. The result was Zwan. Zwan was decidedly more pop-oriented than The Smashing Pumpkins’ previous efforts, and was greeted with a wave of surly indigence from grunge fans the world over. Zwan only released one record, in 2003, called Mary Star of the Sea.

 

Corgan was already drawn to ambitious concept records, and riffing on musical trends. With Zwan, perhaps his ambition got the better of him.

 

6) “The Dark Wind” (1991)

In 1988, documentarian Errol Morris burst onto the scene with his Academy award-winning documentary film “The Thin Blue Line.” He had made some popular shorts (“Gates of Heaven,” most notably), but “The Thin Blue Line” was his first feature film. The film was about the murder arrest of a man in Dallas, and the subsequent bungling of his case. It was a revolutionary film in many ways, in that it was one of the first to mix documentary footage with moody re-enactments, it used music the way no doc ever had before, and, as a result of it’s in-film crime investigation, managed to exonerate a falsely accused man.

 

Morris, like a few other documentarians have in the past, decided to use his newfound clout, and Academy Award influence, and break into the world of narrative features. His dream project was, though, an odd duck. He decided to adapt a Tony Hillerman novel to the screen, and shoot it largely in the Navajo language. “The Dark Wind” was a murder mystery that took place on an Indian reservation (it was filed on a real-life Hopi reservation in Arizona), and plunged us into the modern ethos of Indian living. The result was praised for its accuracy to modern Indian life (rez living is quiet and dull, where people do still speak the native languages, but live in alcoholic squalor), but was largely lambasted by critics for being psychedelic and plodding.

 

It’s an odd film by itself, but that it was a dream project of the idiosyncratic documentarian makes it seem all the more strange. Did Morris really want to adapt an Indian murder mystery as his dream project? What a weird choice.

5) “The Ripping Friends” (2001)

In 1991, an oddball, Bob-Clampett-obsessed Canadian animator named John Kricfalusi was able to sneak a little, disgusting animated show onto the air. In America. It first aired in shorts on MTV, and eventually found a home on Nickelodeon, where it exploded into the public consciousness. “The Ren & Stimpy Show” was revolutionary, not just in its aesthetics, but the way it opened the door for creator-based cartoon shows in the future, and closing off the obnoxious half-hour toy commercials of the 1980s. Every cartoon show today owes a huge debt to “The Ren & Stimpy Show.”

 

John K., though, was notoriously difficult to deal with, and would badger his employees. What’s more, he could never finish episodes on the weekly schedule like the show’s producer’s asked, and he was eventually fired from his own show. The producers kept the rights to his characters. John K. was understandably bitter.

 

It took many years for negotiations to come through on John K.’s next project, which was an unusual superhero spoof called “The Ripping Friends” which made it to American airwaves in 2001. The show followed four muscle-bound brothers (named Chunk, Crag, Slab and Rip), who would use their toughs (and pointed lack of brains) to take down weirdo villains like egg-laying chicken men, and living, mutated callouses. The show, like most of John K.’s output, looked just great, and kept open-minded audiences way off balance.

 

But, like his previous show, the episodes were never finished on time, production was taken away from him, and John K. watched as assembly-line hacks took away his show. “The Ripping Friends” was canceled after the first season, and has since faded largely into obscurity. This time, at least, John K. kept the rights to his creation.

 

4) “The Lamb” starring Chris Gaines

In 1998, Garth Brooks was on top of the world. He was the single most successful country artist of all time, having three albums in a row (“In Pieces,” “Fresh Horses,” and “Sevens”) go multi-platinum. Garth Brooks, despite his hayfed country persona, was actually a man possessed of a goofy sense of humor, and was playful and self-aware in interviews. He seemed well aware of his place in the pop culture canon.

 

In 1999, Brooks has the perhaps misguided idea to use his fame to start a new meta-music pop project, and, like Ziggy Stardust before him, invented a new rock persona for himself. This new persona was Chris Gaines, a rock ‘n’ roll star with operatically conflicted emotions about his station in life. Chris Gaines was already featured in a high-priced screenplay called “The Lamb” which was slated to begin filming once the Gaines character took off. Chris Gaines was a huge, huge, multimedia endeavor.

 

Brooks recorded an album as Chris Gaines and released it in 1999 to gear up for “The Lamb.” Brooks fans refused to support Brooks new pop experiment, and the album tanked. The lack of affection had Brooks abandoning Chris Gaines altogether, and ashamedly returning to traditional country. Ironically, Brooks’ only top-40 pop single, “Lost in You,” came from Chris Gaines.

 

3) “Southland Tales” (2007)

In 2001, filmmaker Richard E. Kelly made a modest indie genre hit called “Donnie Darko.” The film followed the title character, played by Jake Gyllenhaal, as he uncovered unusual secrets of time travel and divinity from within the bubble of his suburban home, and the filter of his functional mental illness. It’s a moody and thoughtful film, and it well beloved by an army of cultists.

 

Kelly, however, saw how popular his film was becoming and began to drink his own Kool-Aid. He surrounded himself with yes-men and worshipers. He released a Director’s Cut of “Donnie Darko,” and milked every last penny out of it. He announced a 2005 release for an ambitious political commentary, and filmed a three-hour-long, multiple-chapter, multiedia opus that was to involve a feature film, comic books, and a TV show.

 

The result of this ambition was the 2007 HFS freakout “Southland Tales” which was delayed for nearly two years as Kelly had to recut it after a bad reception at film festivals. The film involved time travel, an amnesiac movie star, the militant neo-Marxists, the politically-driven pron industry, WWIII, the daughter of a vice president, a mad scientist, a reality-bending drug dealer played by Justin Timberlake, identical twins, various SNL cast members in supporting roles, The Rock, Kevin Smith in old age makeup, and nothing less than the end of the world. Not since “Wild Palms” has so much been crammed into so little.

 

“Southland Tales” is a fascinating film, and serves as the ultimate object lesson on what happens when you start to believe your own hype. A lesson: tell the stories that are dear to you. Just because you can make something enormous and bloated, doesn’t mean you should.

 

2) The Virtual Boy (1995)

1995 was a good year for Nintendo. The Super Nintendo was riding high, and possessed the lion’s share of the burgeoning video game market. Their franchises were all successful, and the quality of their games was unmatched. Then Nintendo decided to make a huge gamble, and 1995 became a very bad year indeed.

 

1995 was the year Nintendo released the much-maligned and oft-written-about Virtual Boy. The Virtual Boy, for those young geeks who may not know, was a cumbersome, head-mounted game system, complete with noise-canceling headphones, that presented games in 3-D. It was intended to bank on the topical talk of all-immersive virtual reality technologies that was hip in movies at the time. According to all reports, the games were only mildly fun, the red-and-black color scheme was abrasive, and the console itself was clunky and difficult to operate.

 

I understand that every business must occasionally take a risk on something truly innovative in the hopes that it will catch on. Sometimes the new stuff works. Just look at the Wii. But sometimes the bold experiments taken from a position of success can come across as backward.

 

1) “Psycho” (1998)

Gus Van Sant had already made several hits by 1997. He became a darling of the Indie world in 1989 with his wonderful “Drugstore Cowboy,” and garnered a lot of critical attention for his moody and bizarre films like “My Own Private Idaho” and the face-melting Tom Robbins adaptation “even Cowgirls Get the Blues.” I’m even fond of his dark media fantasy “To Die For.” In 1997, though, he was asked by Miramax to direct the script of two little-know actors, about a genius boy who rejects school, but ends up making good in the world thanks to a compassionate teacher. The actors were Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. The film was “Good Will Hunting.”

 

“Good Will Hunting” was a huge success, and even won several academy awards, including screenplay and supporting actor for Robin Williams. It was nominated for seven others, including director and picture. All of a sudden, Gus Van Sant was no longer an Indie darling. He was a viable commercial director.

 

Well, Mr. Van Sant, what’s your dream project? What have you wanted to make more than anything else? Really? A shot-by-shot remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960s classic “Psycho?” With new actors, and shot in color? And the music is unchanged? And the shots are all, like, exactly the same? Hm…

 

The 1998 version of “Psycho” was the high-profile experiment that no one asked for. It starred Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates and Anne Heche as Marion Crane. Yes, the film is nearly identical to Alfred Hitchcock’s original classic. While I don’t think the film has many fans, and critics blasted it unceasingly, I think the experiment served an important function: if a film was shot in 1998 the EXACT same way it was in 1960, the effect would be decidedly different. Van Sant exposed and codified the filmmaking trends that had changed in the ensuing decades.

 

I understand that if you have carte blanche to remake your favorite movie follow a grand success, then you may, even if it’s not a good idea (hello, Peter Jackson). But remaking a familiar classic in a shot-by-shot experimental capacity using millions of dollars in studio money. Well, I hate to beat the word “hubris” into the ground…

 

Witney Seibold is a movie theater wonk who write about movies as a hobby. He lives in Los Angeles with his gorgeous new wife, and his lovely Christmas tree. When he’s not compiling lists for Geekscape, he write reviews on his own ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, which has collected over 700 reviews he has written to date, stretching back to his professional days with local newspapers. You can read what he has here: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/

Over on the website “Zero Punctuation,” a video game critic named Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw posited that life must be hard for “Star Wars” fans, as the bulk of movies, books and video games based on the property are pretty much horrible.

I think it was Blaise Pascal who first coined the phrase “the God-shaped hole.” He implied, even in the 17^th century, that Enlightenment thinking had used empirical evidence and a new-found intellectual stress on reason to explain away the theological mysteries of the universe. Natural Philosophy was giving away to the proper scientific method, and the movement of the planets was soon seen as a natural phenomenon rather than a divine one. Pascal, though (along with more recent philosophers like Will Durant and Salman Rushdie) argued that worshiping was inextricably enmeshed with human consciousness, and that, however reasonable your explanations, humans will still have the drive, the need, the capacity, to worship something greater than themselves. Durant, who did not believe in God, still felt that humans were driven more by their will, their emotions and their instinct, more than their reason, and that no mode of thought or major philosophy had arisen that can fill the God-shaped hole in humanity’s lives.

 

This may be a roundabout way of getting there, but this is, I feel, why films like “Star Wars” are so popular. As America has become increasingly secularized, and more and more hipster atheists crop up, our need to worship something has turned increasingly toward pop culture. Teenagers have put their rock heroes on religious-like pedestals for as long as there has been rock ‘n’ roll. One of the most popular TV shows of recent years has the word “Idol” in the title. The thinking used to be “I don’t know much, but I know God exists.” The thinking these days is more along the lines of “I don’t know much, but it cannot be argued that “Star Wars” is great.”

Which brings me to “Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace.” For people who worshiped at the alter of George Lucas since childhood, and who lived for “Star Wars,” the announcement of the “Star Wars” prequel back in the late 1990s caused a rush of enthusiasm from an army of “Star Wars” geeks. Fans waited outside of theaters for days in order to eagerly witness what can be chalked up to the geek’s version of the Second Coming. It was another, brand-new “Star Wars” theatrical feature which used the latest in special effects technology to tell the origin story of some of our beloved, sainted characters. And it was written and directed by the creator of the original “Star Wars,” so it’s pedigree was impeccably pure.

I don’t need to describe to you the enormous backlash surrounding this film; it’s pretty well documented all over the internet, and I think it’s widely accepted that “The Phantom Menace” is considered “bad” by the majority of fans and critics. All of a sudden, those who worshiped “Star Wars,” those who had unflagging faith in their object of affection, found themselves in a position that all people of faith will inevitably find themselves in at several points throughout their lives: a position of question. What “The Phantom Menace” offered was a pop culture version of the crisis of faith.

 

All of a sudden, you had “Star Wars” fans questioning whether or not their worship was worth it. Had they been duped by a cunning clergy (Lucas)? Were they going to accept this new film as canon? It was written and directed by the original creator, so they must. Schisms began to form. Some people dropped “Star Wars” altogether. Some people spoke out against the franchise entirely. Some people began writing – like some famous Catholic priests – elaborate apologetics explaining away, or merely apologizing for “The Phantom Menace.”

 

Camus said that one needs to find the swirling vortex of doubt, look down over the precipice, and sit oneself down in the painful chaos. Kierkegaard argued that one need to look over the same precipice, and then make the Leap of Faith.

 

Fans of other geek properties never had something comparable, which is why I site “Star Wars: Episode I” in particular. Sure there have been plenty of bad moments in “Star Trek” along the way (“Spock’s Brain,” “Star Trek V: The Final Frontier,” Wesley Crusher, “Voyager,” the final episode of “Enterprise.”), but Trekkies have always been a bit more laidback and egalitarian about the weaknesses in their object of worship. Sure, they say, Shatner may have overacted in a lot of his scenes, but it doesn’t effect the largeness of Kirk as a character. In a way “Star Wars” is an Old-Testament Roman Catholic geek church, while “Star Trek” is a laidback, modern day multiculti Protestant geek church.

To further this comparison, the 2009 “Star Trek” film was The Book of Mormon. The same characters written by a new author, proclaiming an entirely new testament. It was also looked on with skepticism by we Trek true believers. “Doctor Who” was the original Church of England, the new “Battlestar Galactica” was Vatican II, “Lord of the Rings” was a quiet Pentacostal church, and “Dungeons & Dragons” was Judaism, i.e. God’s chosen geeks.

 

In more than one review, Jar-Jar Binks was the crux of the problem, and comparisons to Judas Iscariot were in the offing; he was the one that betrayed us all. Wesley Crusher may have been a little annoying, but he was a far more well-rounded character than Jar-Jar.

What’s more, “Star Wars” fans had a harder time processing something bad, as “Star Wars” never had a prequel before. “Star Trek,” with the exception of “Enterprise” and the 2009 film, had never had a grand origin story of the franchise; it was largely chronological, and could be seen as a central canonical timeline. “Star Wars” made the mistake of going back to the beginning and trying to undercut and redefine exactly the things that everyone had grown to love over the last several decades.

 

Every believer must go through a crisis of faith, and they will all eventually come down on the side that works best for them. Some turn their backs on God and embrace the larger mysteries of the universe. Some embrace God, and the gentle anima that binds humanity. Some remain skeptical, and find that doubting is what defines humanity. The same could be said for “Star Wars.” Some have turned their back on Geroge Lucas altogether. Some have tried their hardest to accept the entire canon of “Star Wars.” Most, I feel, accept that these bad films are canon, but are skeptical of their quality.

 

Let us pray.

Witney Seibold is a hard-working movie-lover and church-goer living in Los Angeles with his gorgeous wife and an overflowing library of books and videos. He thinks a lot about popular culture, and occasionally writes about it. He has been writing film reviews for over a decade, in both a professional and non-professional capacity, and maintains his own ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years.” You can read the 700 articles he’s published to date at the following address: http://witneyman.wordpress.com/