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Tuesday, Sep 12, 2006

Feel that nip in the air, that sudden surge of icy cold callousness? In case you’re wondering—no, it’s not the first signs of Fall.  Instead, it’s the remnants of the reality that Hell has just frozen over. Today is the day when all the pontifications and declarations of artistic privilege, the ownership of myth and the control of motion pictures was tossed in the trash by one George Walton Lucas Jr. That’s right, today is the day when he finally makes the original versions of his Star Wars trilogy available to the public in their initial, unaltered form. No Greedo shooting first. No CGI Jabba bargaining with Han Solo. No modernized space battles. And no damn Hayden ‘Anakin Skywalker’ Christiansen substituting for Sebastian Shaw. Granted, you have to pick up copies of those disgraceful fidgeted over Special Editions to get your hands on these long sought after cinematic Holy Grails, and the tech specs supposedly leave a lot to be desired. Yet none of that matters as this is a day that will live on in entertainment infamy. All other releases scheduled might as well pack up and call it a day. Geek nation will be abuzz about these discs for at least a couple of weeks—that is, until they learn of the massive mega box set proposed for the franchise’s 30th anniversary. Oh George, you devil. Here’s the rundown on SE&L’s DVD selections of interest for 12 September:


Beavis and Butthead Do America: 10th Anniversary Collector’s Edition
In a clear case of a double dip that was well worth the wait, everyone’s favorite heavy metal morons finally get their only feature film perfectly pimped out. On this new edition you will find creator Mike Judge offering up his considered commentary on the brain-addled buffoons rise to stardom, the superstar-laded cast (including turns by then husband and wife Bruce Willis and Demi Moore) and his battles with Paramount over content and comedy. With his latest big screen effort, the literally discarded Idiocracy slowly fading from view, here’s a chance to see the talented writer/director successfully translate his small screen acumen to a big screen setting.



Lucky Number Slevin
It’s time for ‘90s movie mentor Quentin Tarantino to pick up another rip-off royalty check. In this supposedly slick and wholly superficial crime drama, Josh Harnett is Slevin Kelevra (yes, you read that name right) who suddenly finds himself smack dab in the middle of a mob war between bosses Ben Kingsley and Morgan Freeman. Yeesh! While some critics haven’t cared for the combination of purposefully dense dialogue and overstylized cinematics, those who can’t get enough of Mr. Pulp Fiction’s flailing stepchildren have cottoned to its cold, considered craftsmanship. Until QT steps up with another film, Slevin just might support your hard-boiled habit.



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Stars Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope; Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back; Episode VI – Return of the Jedi
It’s gotten awfully hard to write about these films without getting incredibly miffed over the man behind their creation. It is safe to say that no other filmmaker in the blockbuster era has simultaneously sullied and solidified his legacy more stridently than George Lucas. His decision to make prequels to these beloved sci-fi films aside, his efforts behind the camera—championing advances in CGI and digital technology, his efforts at film preservation and protection—have been countered by his unswerving desire to constantly tinker with the movies that built his empire. Granted, all three of the original Star Wars films are dated, their effects marred by the limits of the era and the imagination within said restrictions.


That being said, there is something so homey about the original Star Wars films, a kind of handmade artistry that’s literally destroyed by all the post-millennial post production. What many makers of speculative fiction films fail to remember is that any futuristic fable better be rooted in some manner of recognizable reality. Thousand story buildings, ships the size of planets and unusual extraterrestrials fail to resonate because they move beyond the scope of our spatial logic and plausible perspective. That’s why the prequels feel so false—they offer up so much eye candy that our conceivability ends up diabetic.


The fact is, the real reasons fans have been clamoring for these titles has very little to do with a rejection of the reduxes, or a desire to restrict Lucas in his vision or creative capabilities. No, preserving and presenting the original Star Wars films the way they were initially released to theaters allows for the connections created previously to find a permanent home. The basis for why fans and filmmakers alike criticized the colorization of classic black and white films rests solely on this premise. In their newfangled form, the experiences one associated with those timeless monochrome movies were inalienably altered by the introduction of a formerly unknown element. Revisionism is only for rectification, not resale value. Lucas should remember it’s not about money, but memories.



Taps: Special Edition
Taps has a strange cinematic legacy. Few today remember that this was the highly tauted follow-up to Timothy Hutton’s Oscar winning turn in the still amazing Ordinary People. Fresh from said success, Hutton headlined a cast of up and comers including Tom Cruise, Sean Penn and Giancarlo Esposito. Today, his work is mostly forgotten—as well as that of Onion Field/Sea of Love director Harold Becker. Here’s hoping this new Special Edition DVD release (replacing a bare bones title from four years ago) restores Hutton and Becker back to prominence. The truth is, aside from Penn, the work of all the other now known names is rather minor at best.


 


The Wild
When Disney dumped 2D animation (only to have newly installed boss John “Pixar” Lassiter insist its coming back) many wondered what the outcome would be. The House of Mouse used to excel at the anthropomorphic animal idea, but with Dreamworks’ similarly storied Madagascar hitting the theaters several months ahead of this offering, the juvenile jones for said material was already sated. Proving that no one does redundant and repetitive better than Uncle Walt’s narrative factory, The Wild borrows liberally from past animated classics like The Lion King, and the cartoon canon of Chuck Jones. Strictly for the wee ones, or the easily amused adult.



And Now for Something Completely Different

In a weekly addition to Who’s Minding the Store, SE&L will feature an off title disc worth checking out. For 12 September:


Linda Lovelace for President
Deluded into believing there was more to her stardom than a certain sexual proclivity, Linda Susan Boreman—a.k.a. Linda Lovelace—thought her fame was on the rise, when in reality it was as tenuous as the rest of the ‘70s porno chic gimmick. By the time she made this brazen bid for mainstream comedy acceptance (albeit in an R rated softcore format), the tide was already turning against the mainstreaming of XXX icons. In this pathetic political farce, Linda plays a Presidential candidate who stumps as much as she shtups along the campaign trail, running into an oddball collection of concerned citizens including Mickey Dolenz, Scatman Crothers, Marty Ingels and Joe E. Ross. Foolishly, Lovelace assumed that this movie would launch her legitimate film career. All it did was guarantee her ‘80s slide into sexual sour grapes.



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Monday, Sep 11, 2006


Today marks the fifth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and even with said time and distance, people are still wondering if it’s too soon to explore the events via the many available entertainment mediums. In the last few weeks alone, cable outlets like The Discovery and The Learning Channel have given us devastating looks inside the Twin Towers that fateful day, and all three major networks are airing specials striving to celebrate and scrutinize the tragedy. ABC has courted the most controversy, airing a miniseries on 10 and 11 September that acts like a denouncement of the Democrats as the narrative traces the Clinton Administrations dealings with Osama Bin Laden on the Path to 9/11. Cinema also responded with its own double dose of regulated reality. Oliver Stone went for the sentimental with his August release of World Trade Center, a survival story of two port authority officers at Ground Zero. Earlier, Paul Greengrass gave the final flight of United 93 the kind of docudrama authenticity that helped amplify its rock solid suspense.


Yet the question still lingers – is it too soon? Before answering, there’s a need for some clear perspective. Such an inquiry assumes a couple of communal attributes: (1) that all individuals in America were equally affected by the events of 9/11, and (2) that all require the same recovery time from their reaction. Now, there is no doubt that citizens were shaken to their very core by the sight of airplanes slamming into the side of a skyscraper. It’s an image not even the most gifted Hollywood effects house could duplicate in its potency and abruptness. It’s epic excess, the unfathomable scope of its symbolic destruction was a crucial reminder of what exists outside our considered zone of comfort. We like to think of America as the land of opportunity and unbridled freedom, a Superpower place that anyone would trade everything to be a part of. The events of 9/11 indicated that, not only was such a sentiment short sighted, but such a belief fueled a perceived arrogant disregard for the rest of the world.


And let’s face it – we’re all ostriches. We’d rather spend our days with our heads buried in the suburban sand than deal with the real world issues constantly crashing against our free and democratic shores. We’ll elect (and re-elect) a President and support his sloppy war as long as it makes us feel secure in our SWVs, and keeps the materialistic flow unencumbered. We will use the mere mantra of “supporting our troops” as a means of avoiding a real confrontation on the politics of preemption, and balk the minute a potential threat is uncovered. Instead of living in the reality of a precarious post-modern world, where technology and ideology have met to create a continuous network of possible terror, we argue over alert levels and airport security as the rest of the planet experiences daily reminders of the tenuous nature of being a citizen within this specific planetary community.


That is why it is almost never “too soon” to address a tragedy cinematically. Unless we place some manner of shared importance on a singular event, the art of motion picture making is the perfect place to explore the deeper meaning inside any calamity. Granted, the potential is always there for exploitation or disrespect, but there are no guarantees in this constantly shifting social stratagem. All of which begs the question – why, pray tell, are the events of 9/11 so off-limits, even today? If it’s a question of time and distance, no one is pitching the kind of jingoistic hissy that critics of United 93 and World Trade Center are guilty of regarding a far more devastating - and recent - event. Last month, Spike Lee delivered his four hour documentary on the rampant destruction – and lack of proper governmental response – in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. HBO’s When the Levee Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts was a mind-boggling masterpiece, far more antagonistic and conspiratorial than anything offered in either pro-patriot 9/11 motion pictures. Amid the images of bodies floating in sewage strewn water and victims piled up like prisoners in horribly inhumane and unsanitary conditions, we heard rumors of explosions (marking the purposeful destruction of the levees), the governments’ avoidance of politically unpopular peoples, ass covering taking the place of assistance. All the while, audiences couldn’t wait to see Lee stick it to the man, while simultaneously wondering aloud how anyone can tackle the tragedy that befell America on that fateful September day five years gone.


Some may say that 9/11 and Katrina are apples and oranges, and in many significant ways, that statement is true. But a hurricane wiping out most of a city, flattening millions of Gulf coast acres and destroying hundreds of thousands of lives stands as far more important, quantitatively, than a single act of terrorism that somehow finally managed to make it to our own isolationist shores. 9/11 may be more socially, and internationally significant, but Katrina will continue to be more substantive. Call it liberal cluelessness or a lack of context, but the collapse of the World Trade Center is more important for what it symbolizes (America’s indirect entry into the cause and effect world of fundamentalism) than for the resulting devastation. Now no loss of life is acceptable, but would we view the events of that day differently if, once the airplanes hit, the city of New York and the Federal Government simply sat around, waiting until the coast was clear and all the facts were in before they decided to act? Would we feel any different if the planes had hit some nameless housing projects instead of the symbols of capitalism and commerce? In Katrina’s case, the answer seems obvious.


The longer we apply the hands off approach to 9/11, the longer we foster the philosophy behind the attacks. No one is saying that radical fundamentalist Islamic extremists can be reasoned with, and no one is suggesting that a movie can make sense of such outrageous, illogical motives. But there are always lessons to be learned, elements within any tragedy that need deciphering and determination. While they were unpleasantly exploitive at times, the Discovery Channel style documentaries began the process of illustrating the horrors of what happened that day. Seeing those indelible images from the inside out – the planes approaching, the stairwells choked with smoke – gave new meaning to the loss of life that occurred. That’s the power of visualizing events. It helps provide perspective, and necessary knowledge. If we mythologize events, and ask our movies to do the same, we rob the reality of its meaning.


Film can convolute and corrupt, but when done right (United 93) and in deference to other elements (World Trade Center) the results can be disarming. We require determinations, not deifications. Arguing that it’s too soon is simply asking to avoid the truth for a little while longer. And the more time that passes, the more fact fades. If we wait too long to address the aspects of 9/11, we run the risk of losing its meaning all together. If that’s the case, the terrorists have really won. Nothing spells victory like getting your victims to forget why they were targets in the first place. Without the illustrative power of film, such absentmindedness is almost assured. So it’s not too soon. In fact, it may be too late


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Sunday, Sep 10, 2006


No, you’re not seeing things. That’s John Travolta in full drag as Edna Turnblad in the musical adaptation of John Waters’ Hairspray, set for release in 2007. Frankly, SE&L isn’t shocked by the casting. Travolta is a true musical comedy actor, and can definitely pull off the role originated by the late, great Divine. Besides, we’re more curious to see how Christopher Walken holds up has “her” husband, Wilbur. Not that’s a concept worth getting worked up over.


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Saturday, Sep 9, 2006


When Tim Burton tackles a cinematic subject, you know the results are going to be artistically anarchic. From his fascinating short films Vincent and Frankenweenie, to his big budget takes on Batman and the Planet of the Apes, this iconic filmmaker finds the idiosyncratic soul in almost all the material he approaches. The results are always visually inspiring, quirky, arcane, and wholly original. So it’s a shame that his 1996 epic Mars Attacks! Never reached a wider audience. In an odd twist of fate, the film had the unfortunate luck of following Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich’s more serious interstellar invasion film Independence Day to the Cineplex. Indeed, after seeing the world decimated by pissed off extraterrestrials, Burton’s subtle apocalyptic satire just didn’t seem quite as funny, and audiences stayed away in droves. By doing so, they missed a sensationally subversive sci-fi comedy. Based on a controversial Topps trading card set from the ‘50s and ‘60s, Mars Attacks was an EC Comics approach to the mainstream popcorn extravaganza. It combined riffs from the seminal ‘70s disaster films with lifts from the likes of Stanley Kubrick (Jack Nicholson’s Peter Sellers-like dual roles) to the blaxpolitation classics of the era (complete with Pam Grier and Jim Brown in prominent roles).


But it’s the Martians that make the biggest impression here. Utilizing an early version of CGI, and the extensive physical effects his films are known for, Burton gave what could have been your standard alien bad guys a distinct dimension all their own. Aside from looking exactly like their cartoon counterparts, these slapstick spacemen with the corpse-like demeanor were a constant source of sensational sight gags. In fact, instead of purely playing the villainous antagonists that the cards conveyed, Burton’s ridiculous rogues were a gleeful Greek chorus, mocking the Earthlings in all their human faults and foibles. The Martians manage to play on each and every one of mankind’s sinful slights, from the military’s unreasonable arrogance (as expertly exemplified by the late great Rod Steiger) to the shady sexual secrets inside the corridors of power. Indeed, with the latter, Martin Short gets a chance to shine as a Presidential Aide who attempts to bed a decidedly dim hooker who’s actually an alien in disguise. With its irreverent approach and stellar production design, Mars Attacks! is a marvel. It remains one of Burton’s most slick, satisfying efforts.


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Friday, Sep 8, 2006


Generally, when I think of Diane Keaton, I think of a “modern woman”. Leave it to 1984’s Mrs. Soffel to ship the performer off to the turn of the century, take away her usual contemporary manners and tics, and in the process show off an important and unique side of her capabilities as an actress, talents that extend far beyond the ability to make people laugh.


Over the course of her fascinating film career, Keaton has garnered Oscar nominations in each of the decades since the 1970s. She also has one win for Woody Allen’s Annie Hall (1977), a role that made her an American icon. She has exemplified the ideal of a woman living in contemporary society: funny, brainy and naturally sexy (she’s even a L’oreal spokes-model now, at age 60!). In each of these roles, her innate likeability comes across easily, and her particular charms seem to be tailored to fit current times. For me, Keaton is reminiscent of Katharine Hepburn, down to the offbeat manner in which she dresses. Her icon status, her technical skill, and her ability to get consistently interesting work for over four decades makes the comparison even clearer.


At the dawn of the ‘80s, Keaton scored with one of her best roles, yet oddly it wasn’t in the more celebrated yin of Reds or the yang of the for-then very raw divorce drama Shoot the Moon. It the follow-up to these critical successes, Mrs. Soffel, which showcased her most nuanced performance to date; free of all of the modern conventions that had peppered her other work.


Keaton manages a complete immersion into time and character. The sets, costumes and cinematography all conspire to paint a very grim, foggy portrait of Pittsburgh during 1900. Director Gillian Armstrong gets the technical stuff down without being overly showy, and she conveys a really nice sense of era through her color choices. Using washed out blues, grays and other subdued, fuzzy tones, she filters the film through this particular prism, creating an appropriate backdrop for a film set in a prison. Keaton plays a warden’s wife in this true-life tale, a woman who wants to help two convicted killers (Mel Gibson and Matthew Modine) escape death row by utilizing the guise of teaching them the bible.


She falls under Gibson’s romantic spell and throws away everything she has to join the fleeing criminals. Keaton is breathtaking, moving easily from frail to hot-and-bothered, from naive to furious all within a matter of scenes (a tricky high-wire act for a performer that is so often associated with wacky physical comedies). It is such unexpected turn that the “Diane Keaton” everyone knows so well just vanishes as Mrs. Soffel is finally freed of her repressed existence. In truth, Keaton is again playing a liberated woman, someone ahead of her time in every way. This time, however, she is able to effortlessly separate herself from her far more famous off-screen persona.


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