A Comedy of Errors

In my critical analysis of Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, I noted that the Star Trek franchise had become a pale shadow of a movie franchise, the last two barely even registering as films. Like a backwoods town attempting to build a restaurant like dem big city folk and ending up with a shack that sells watermelons on Tuesdays. Today we observe Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, and I have similar things to say about it. The "space epic" thing not working for you? Well, what's popular with the kids? Fish-out-of-water comedies? Great, send the cast back to present day and watch all the wacky hijinks they get into. What will they think of next.

Here we go. The plot:

Picking up where Search for Spock left off, Kirk and co. are on Vulcan with the newly reborn Spock, preparing their Klingon vessel (long story) to travel back to Earth and stand trial for Kirk's latest batch of impulsive murders. The preliminary trial (where, in the future, a bunch of dudes stand around in a courtroom talking about how they're going to hang the defendant who isn't even present) features some surprisingly apt discussions of Kirk's anti-Klingon sentiments and desire to kill everything that moves, but presented as the Klingon council's machinations to further their agenda to kill everything that moves. But we're interrupted by the Giant Floating Plot Device that's evaporating Earth's oceans until SOMEONE GETS ME SOME FUCKING WHALES. Naturally, Kirk and co. travel back in time to San Francisco of 1986 (of course you'd say "Ah, San Francisco", Sulu). There, Kirk and Spock plan to abduct some whales from an overprotective marine biologist and do things like not know what money is. Wacky hijinks ensue.

I feel like I'm selling the comedy bit short. Sure, they're all stock jokes that we've heard a million times (Spock can't get the hang of cussing!), but it's nice to watch the cast loosen up a bit. The series has been in desperate need of some pie-throwing for a while, and the cast has an easy chemistry that makes the film pleasant enough to watch.

In fact, the scene where they go to a 20th century hospital allows DeForest Kelley, the funniest member of the original cast, some really great comic moments.

Leonard Nimoy is back in the director's chair for this one, and his helmsmanship has tightened up considerably. The whole film is far breezier and more fun to watch than Search for Spock (although that's not saying much). But this brings up a question: should Star Trek be this breezy? Personally, I don't think it's a good fit. I really got the feeling that the cast was sort of being dragged around haphazardly in this one in a desperate plea to keep the franchise alive. Between the comedy that makes this feel like only a sort-of-a Star Trek movie to the topical message about saving the whales, the producers really pulled out all the stops to try and make this one relevant.

And the cast is beginning to look very, very old. Obviously they've been old for a while now, but I'm just now beginning to see it, especially considering how many of them look like old lesbians (3). It's almost sad to watch. No one would allow a group of septuagenarians a state-of-the-art vessel like this, they're liable to all go into a diabetic coma and crash into the Bob Evans they were flying to.

And let's not forget the marvelously stupid Giant Floating Plot Device. The thing arrives with no explanation. It just shows up and starts evaporating it some oceans until a whale sings at it. Why is it so angry at all water that doesn't house humpback whales? Will the water more effectively house humpback whales when it's been evaporated? What are its origins? Why is any of this shit happening? No one seems especially concerned with this. They make it seem like they do this every week. Some probe comes and starts evaporating their oceans or disintegrating their rain forests until someone goes back in time and gets it the animal du jour. How strange that would seem to an outsider!

I'd rather the president just call Kirk up and send him to San Fransisco of 1986 on a mission to get into wacky hijinks. At least then you're being honest about how lazy you are.

To wrap things up, I'd say that it's nice to see the cast loosen up, but the story needed to be more Trek-esque. Instead it's a fish-out-of-water story about saving whales in 1986 that really doesn't even feel like it belongs in Trek canon. I actually prefer the thematic and visual ambition of Search for Spock, even if that was arguably a bigger failure. This film isn't as much of a failure because it sticks to such a rigid formula.

5/10

The Files of Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray

In an attempt to make $100 million, I've decided to write a series of mystery novels. Since I don't know how copyright works, I'm going to post my ideas here so that when you all start stealing them, I can point here and call you a thief.

The Files of Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray concern the investigations of LA detective Inspector Brain, a man who always follows his gut and always plays by his own rules, and his robotic sidekick Professor Killroy Deathray.

Originally built as a bar-tending robot, he earned his robo-Ph.D in the workings of the universe. He was then fixed with a ray gun by the robot overlords and sent to work in the LA Police Department as a spy. He ultimately developed a mutual respect for seasoned detective Inspector Brain. Upon developing sentience, Professor Killroy Deathray realized that the annihilation of the human race was unjustifiable and he and Inspector Brain teamed up to stop it. They flew to the robot overlords' space station and destroyed the robot overlords and their supply of liver-targeting nerve gas. Eventually they moved into the space station and became roommates.

Their boss is the hard-drinking, by-the-books Irish veteran Chief O'Malley.

I have developed some bare-bones plot descriptions for their first few novels:

INSPECTOR BRAIN and the EVENING BEAR
Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray investigate a murdered bear found on Sunset Blvd. Their investigation leads them to a race of genetically-superior nocturnal bears that wear pants and do aerobics. Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray argue in favor of Bear Rights in front of the Senate. They move every senator to tears, including the bear-hating Texas senator. By the end of this adventure, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray achieve global harmony with humans and bears, but agree with the Texas senator that separate drinking fountains should be installed.

INSPECTOR BRAIN and the CORE OF EXISTENCE
When the core of the Earth goes missing, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray are called in by Barack Obama to investigate. They discover a plot by a multi-national corporation to destroy the planet and make big bucks. In a race against the clock, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray must return the core before the Earth becomes a giant snowball. In the explosive climax, beluga whales carry the core back to the center of the Earth, emphasizing the importance of beluga whales in our everyday lives.

INSPECTOR BRAIN and the MAN NON THE MOON
When a man falls off the moon and lands in Brain's jurisdiction, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray go to the moon to investigate. There, they are shocked to discover the conditions the moon-miners live in, living in hovels and often ending up in debt to the company store. After ruling the man's death a suicide, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray attend his funeral. In the middle of the funeral, the coffin opens up and the CEO of the mining company climbs out. He announces that everyone in attendance is fired for missing work. Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray help the miners storm the corporate headquarters. They make their way to the CEO where they demand their jobs back and a raise. The episode ends with a message about the importance of paying permanent workers a living wage.

INSPECTOR BRAIN and the GHOST OF THE SOUTH
When an assassination attempt on Barack Obama barely fails, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray are called in to investigate. They track the assassin to the deep south and discover that the Ku Klux Klan are behind it. Inspector Brain gives a speech about the forward momentum of society and the antiquated nature of racism while Professor Killroy Deathray sneaks up behind them and shoots them all. They bury them all in a mass grave. The novel ends with Barack Obama giving a speech about how we must bury America's racist past and learn to be tolerant of everyone.

INSPECTOR BRAIN and WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN
After a string of rapes plagues the downtown LA area, Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray track the rapist down. When they find him they discover a small museum of beautiful paintings based on the rapes. Upon discovering them, Inspector Brain explain to the painter the importance of drawing on imagination when depicting something like rape and the power art has to transform convicts into peaceful members of society. The novel ends with a message on the importance of the National Endowment for the Arts.

INSPECTOR BRAIN and the NEXT OF KIN
In the most exciting adventure of Inspector Brain and Professor Killroy Deathray yet, Professor Killroy Deathray discovers his long-lost twin brother, Loveroy Liveray (reach down, God, give me a high five!), is up to something. Having grown up an orphan with no Boys and Girls Club to go to after school, Loveroy Liveray plans to make Mount St. Helen erupt and wipe out all existence on Earth after knocking Inspector Brain unconscious during their first encounter. It's up to Professor Killroy Deathray to come to terms with his own abandonment issues, stop his brother and convince the citizens of LA County to donate to their local Boys and Girls Club.

These Are Things I'm Interested in Right Now

Zack Galifianakis

The saddest, most deadpan of all comedians. It almost breaks your heart to watch him perform. He's like Demetri Martin, but with edge and an interesting persona. Not only was he by far the best thing about The Hangover, he has all the makings of a great, great actor. His series "Between Two Ferns" is one of the funniest things the evil scientist's laboratory of mediocrity Funny or Die has ever concocted.



Patton Oswalt

Patton Oswalt is the funniest comedian I've ever seen. Period. He's the best performer, the best writer. His comedy drifts between almost avant-garde material (ie: his piece on reality TV) and more standard comedy fare (his piece on airplanes and specifically Jet Blue), and the weird thing is they're both equally incredible. Neither one feels like a concession. He's just that good. A lot of people I've talked to about Patton Oswalt don't think he's very good, like my own brother (traitor), and to me, that's bananas. His act isn't a giant dick joke, and it's not so deadpan that it almost ceases to be comedy. It's the perfect balancing act of every style of comedy, and again, not one time is it a compromise.




Star Trek: The Original Series

Despite its hit-or-miss quality, and despite the fact that it stars William "I rape a crewmember in one episode" Shatner, its good episodes are fucking fantastic. Its character interactions, especially those between Kirk and Spock, are first-rate, thanks to the writing and especially thanks to Leonard Nimoy. While there are episodes like the one with the race of space hippies and the race of space gangsters, there are also episodes like The City on the Edge of Forever that rank among the finest in film or television to come out of the 1960's. So far I've enjoyed several episodes of the Original Series more than any of the films.



The Antichrist Trailer

Because I'm totally ready to have my eyeballs melted by this movie. If I finish my Star Trek retrospective and my Michael Bay retrospective before Antichrist hits my local theaters (I have the 2-at-a-time Netflix, I have to share it with my family, and they started sending me shit from the middle of my queue), I'll have to do a retrospective on Lars Von Trier because, believe it or not, I've never seen a one of his films.



Tom Waits

I don't have to explain this, do I? Every now and then I'll just start listening to him exclusively. Specifically I've been listening to Closing Time and Orphans. It's a shame that he'll have to die before he's recognized as the greatest American lyricist of the latter half of the 20th century.

	Tom Waits - Martha
	Found at skreemr.com

On Violence in the Picture Shows

When I tell people that I'm interested in film, and ESPECIALLY if I tell them that I like Quentin Tarantino a lot, they'll start bitching and moaning about violence in movies. When this happens I say one of two things (if my lungs are full of air, I'll say both):

1. Film is a visual medium. Something that film can do that books, pictures, music or spoken word can't is move. They call them the moving pictures. Now, what's the most extreme form of motion? Yeah, violence. One of the things that film is best-suited to is showing violence. No other medium can capture the shock or visceral nature of violence like film can.

2. Violence in art is nothing new. If you think it's new, and if you think film invented it, you're a fucking chump. And here we come back to my first point. ANY violence shown on screen is about a hundred times worse than reading about it. If I say "and then the dude stabbed the other dude", you wouldn't bat an eye, but if I showed you a man stabbing another man, it would be pretty horrifying.

GOOD. Violence isn't pretty. It shouldn't be pretty. When you take the blood out of violence, you're prettying it up. Anything short of extreme violence is stylized violence, and if there's any sort of violence that's dangerous to our collective consciousness, it's stylized violence. Ultimately, this falls under "taste", though. I just think that portraying violence as horrific is the only way to simulate a realistic reaction to violence. Of course, not every filmmaker wants their audience to vomit during their summer blockbuster, and that's okay, too.


Note the "if". The worst thing you could possibly say about violence in movies is that it desensitizes you to make-believe violence. After you see a few hundred brutal decapitations, you probably don't mind seeing any more brutal decapitations.

But that doesn't mean anything. I very rarely find any make-believe violence truly repugnant (shock is a different reaction), but I'm sure I wouldn't just roll my eyes if someone were decapitated in front of me.

To say that violence in movies causes violence is to shortchange your own species and culture completely. People don't go see Inglourious Basterds because they think it's real and it gives them a boner, they see it because violence evokes reactions that you don't get in every day life. People say that violence is like a drug, when, in fact, it's adrenaline that's the drug.

Ultimately, violence is just like any other tool in an artist's fannypack. There's a danger and a fear that anyone can relate to, and that's the fear of death. We all have survival instincts and we can all relate to death. People who complain about violence in film are people who are unwilling to consume any art that isn't immediately pleasurable. These are the people who are unwilling to go along with the work and commit to the experience. And these are the people who will never truly experience great art.

The Technology has Failed Me

Fuck you, too, Netflix.

Cops!

One movie in and I'm ready to just agree with everything everyone has said about Michael Bay. Not out of anger, or because I really hated Bad Boys, but because I can't remember anything about the movie and I watched it two hours ago.

Let's see if I can recount the plot. Will Smith is Mike something, and Martin Lawrence is someone else. Mike and ? are narcotics officers in Miami (I think) and best buds. Every day they get into some wacky predicament that they have to shoot their way out of, because due process is for squares.

Actually, while I'm here, I'd like to comment on a scene that could have been really cool. Why is Mike such a loose-cannon cop who doesn't play by the rules? Because he has a trust fund and, thus, nothing to lose. I'm just joking, the film doesn't make that connection. They just use it as a device to show how dedicated Mike is, but it would have been more interesting if he really WAS an adrenalline junkie who got off on violence and didn't have to play by the rules because if he got fired, whatever. No, that would have been too interesting.

Anyway, one day the Miami (I think) police department has a Mt. Fuji of heroin stolen out of the evidence room and Mike & ? are brought in to get it back. Do they shuffle out of bed, take twelve Asprins and a shot of Jack Daniels, pin their badge to their bathrobe and hop on the city bus? No, they hop into their stylish sports cars and have their clothing robots put on their designer suits, speed on down to the police station where the no-nonsense police chief wags his finger at them for being too stylish and sexually desirable.

Argh, fuck. I keep forgetting what I was talking about. So a bunch of heroin gets stolen. Yawn. There's nothing more boring than a villain who's just trying to make a deal and get paid. There are no fucking stakes. No one gives a shit about some dude selling some heroin, he just wants to be as stylish as the main characters. I sympathized with the guy. He's trying to scrape together a living, and here come the cops with their gold-plated Ferraris and diamond-encrusted handguns to bust a silver bullet in his ass for selling something that shouldn't be illegal in the first place. Not to mention he's characterized as a villain because he's European, clearly having had his world domination plot ignored by James Bond and sulking off to sell some heroin and buy a new Moon Laser.

Shit, what was I talking about? Some guy gets shot, I think he's a cop. Some hookers see it, one of them gets shot, the other gets away. ? has to pretend he's Mike so that the girl will talk to him for some convoluted reason (a simple explanation would have cleared the whole situation up in about fourteen seconds, but then we wouldn't get to see an episode of Family Matters where Carl Winslow shoots forty people). There's some sexual tension between ? and the Hooker Witness, but oh no! ? is married!

So the whole plot makes no sense, is boring as shit and then they drive around shooting stuff and talking jive. Every thing about this film is pre-packaged and boring. Every joke is a joke you've heard before. This is at least half comedy and I didn't crack a smile once. The villain is the same as every Bond villain in the 80's. The score sounds like ever score from the 1980's. Even the formula was a joke by then. Maybe it's because my heart is a little black hole of despair, but I derived next to no pleasure from watching this film. It's a thin, dated retread of things we've seen a million times before, and it belongs on cable TV, not on a DVD.

3/10

The Mindscape of Michael Bay

Behold, cinema's whipping boy, Michael Bay. Everyone who pretends they know anything about film likes to slag the poor old billionaire creepmaster. They all note that he sacrifices story for explosions, and character development for bullet-ridden characters. Due to some unfortunate setbacks in my Star Trek marathon and my sudden acquisition of a copy of Bad Boys, I'll be pushing my adventure through the architecture of Michael Bay's brain ahead a few weeks.


During this probably ill-advised quest into the unknown, I'll be watching every single Michael Bay film in order:

- Bad Boys
- The Rock
- Armageddon
- Pearl Harbor
- Bad Boys II
- The Island
- Transformers

Does Michael Bay deserve his astoundingly negative reputation among film scholars and the completely separate, yet often overlapping, group of intellectually vapid 20-somethings? Does he deserve his legacy as a sure-fire box office success? If not, does he deserve any legacy, and if so, what should it be?

Join me in what is sure to be an unbearable ride through hell as I try to answer some of these questions that honestly don't need answering.