Vic and I took in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End this weekend. To my utter lack of surprise, I enjoyed it more than she did. Vic has a low tolerance for films that exceed 90 minutes, and by clocking in at 168, World’s End was almost an entire movie too long for her.

I have less of a problem with overlong movies. I used to say that I didn’t care how long a film took as long as it was good. However, that theory’s been put to the test since 2001, when the dueling releases of the first Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings chapters made it clear that audiences would once again tolerate two-hour-plus features, just as they did in the ’50s and ’60s. (Of course, the difference between now and the days of the big Cinerama releases and Cecil B. DeMille biblical epics is that they used to have pee breaks.) I’ll admit that World’s End overstayed its welcome. But so did the previous two Pirates, and overall I felt all three offered plenty of entertainment for my movie dollar.

One thing that the Pirates flicks have going for them is ambition. It would’ve been easy enough to simply have Jack Sparrow flounce his way through more pirate shtick for a couple of hours, but instead we get massive set pieces, quirky surrealism, and a freighter full of plot elements. One criticism of World’s End is that it’s too hard to follow, and I’ll agree to the extent that I had some trouble keeping track of who was betraying whom at any given moment. But I felt compensated by the imagination on display, sending viewers over an endless waterfall into the land of the dead.

If Dead Men’s Chest was the series’ The Empire Strikes Back, this one is its Return of the Jedi, with its ragtag rebel fleet staring down a massive armada. Who knew that the East India Trading Company was that badass? Furthermore, as Jedi pulled all that Skywalker family history out of its ass, so World’s End suddenly introduces several major new elements, including the pirates’ Brethren Court (Jack is a pirate lord?) and the backstory of the sea goddess Calypso.

As I noted previously, “these really aren’t pirate movies as much as they are fantasy comedy-adventures in which pirates happen to play some of the central parts.” Now I’d go even further and say that what they resemble most closely are Ray Harryhausen’s Sinbad films. Not that they stop every 20 minutes for a superfluous stop-motion monster battle, but rather that they overlay their core subgenre (in that case, Arabian Nights fantasy) with a curious mix of elements from various mythologies and other stuff made up of whole cloth. Among the creatures Harryhausen’s Sinbad encountered were a giant walrus, a one-eyed centaur, a saber-toothed tiger and an animated statue of Kali. Likewise, the Pirates setting incorporates zombie brigands, Davy Jones, a kraken, a sea goddess and the Fountain of Youth.

Another curious feature of these films is the extent to which we are meant to root for the pirates. It’s true that they’re a lot more fun than the authority figures on display, but there’s something a little bit off-kilter when emancipated noblewoman Elizabeth Swann makes her stand on behalf of making the world safe for robbers, rapists and murderers. But again, these are pirates in name only.

In the end, I had a good time and look forward to the DVD, where I can fast forward through the backstory and get right to the whirlpool battle.

Dave Movies

During last night’s weekly session of Magic: The Gathering, conversation turned to my old fansite devoted to the TV series V. It was something I put together when I was first learning HTML. At the time, I was looking for a hook upon which to hang a webpage, and as there was little available on the Web about the series and I had access to some obscure material from my fanboy days, it seemed a good test case. The site was never meant to be much, and I largely abandoned it years ago. (However, there’s still a button for it on the menu bar to the left.)

Anyhow, I did a bit of digging around today to see if anything had ever come of creator Kenneth Johnson’s plans for a new V miniseries which had been bandied about a couple of years ago. I was surprised to turn up an announcement of a new novel written by Johnson and set for publication this October: V: The Second Generation. Apparently, it will be set twenty years later, and will deal with the arrival of the Visitors’ adversaries, whom the human Resistance attempted to contact via radio telescope at the end of the original miniseries. While Johnson’s webpage doesn’t get into many details, it appears likely to ignore the Final Battle miniseries and subsequent weekly series, both of which were developed after he’d left the project. I enjoyed Johnson’s take on the rise of fascism in the U.S. via an invasion of space lizards, so I look forward to seeing how he’ll play out that theme in the era of Homeland Security.

Dave Sci-Fi

Dave Lartigue sent me the link to the latest in squamous food preparation: The Cthulhu Weiner Roaster, perfect for cookouts in the New England backwoods.

As the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred scrawled in the pages of the dread Necrocondimentcon–

That is not dead which can eternal chill.
And with strange aeons even dogs may grill.

Dave Weird

May 25, 2007 marks the 30th anniversary of the theatrical premiere of Star Wars. I didn’t actually see it that day. Back then, movies didn’t premiere in thousands of theaters at once. According to this account, Star Wars opened in a mere 32 auditoriums, adding another 11 over the Memorial Day weekend. The theater in which I first saw it–the now-defunct River Oaks in Calumet City, Illinois–was one of those initial 43, but even then I didn’t get there right away. The first time my family tried, the lines were impossible and we wound up going to another theater across the street to see Ralph Bakshi’s Wizards. (I still have a lot of fondness for that film as well.)

By the time the film opened, I’d already read the first two issues of the tie-in comic book, so I was familiar with the story up through the Millennium Falcon’s blast-off from Tatooine. Maybe that’s why the first half of the film felt a little slow to me on that initial viewing. But by the time Luke and Leia were swinging across the Death Star’s endless abyss, I was hooked.

Star Wars played at the River Oaks for 25 weeks. By the time it finished its run, the film had already begun its first official national rerelease. I saw it a total of 12 times during that period, and I’m sure it would’ve been more if I’d been able to drive myself. Sometimes my dad and I would arrive halfway into one screening, then stay through the entire next show. I didn’t always go to the River Oaks, but with its massive, wrap-around screen, it was definitely the place of choice, and I saw the debuts of both The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi there as well.

Lately I’ve been reading The Making of Star Wars, a newly-published, massive coffee table book. I hadn’t thought that there was much I didn’t know about the production of the original film, but this one digs deeply into the Lucasfilm archives for a warts-and-all examination of its genesis.

It takes readers through the various iterations of the screenplay, noting when familiar elements first made their appearances. It’s interesting to see just how much the prequel films were influenced by the early script drafts: not just names like Utapau and Mace Windu, but the whole backstory of trade unions helping to overthrow the Republic. (One obvious omission is that, while there was a point at which Luke and Leia were conceived as twins, there’s no mention of Darth Vader being their father.)

Reading though it reminds me that there was a good reason I was so impressed with George Lucas back in the day. He wasn’t, as my wife infamously puts it, “a hack and a ne’er-do-well.” Lucas was a respected experimental filmmaker, and Star Wars was an incredibly risky project that forever changed the language and landscape of film. It’s been increasingly difficult to remember that amidst the ensuing avalanche of tie-in merchandise and the relatively disappointing nature of the prequel trilogy.

So, here’s to you, Star Wars. In your honor, I will post a link to one of my favorite versions of the main title music. Back in ’77, when I was searching for the John Williams soundtrack, all I could find was a similarly black-covered record called Music from Star Wars, as performed by the “Electric Moog Orchestra.” (Which I’m pretty sure was just some guy who got his hands on a Moog synthesizer.) Honestly, it’s pretty awful–okay, more like teeth-clenchingly terrible–but until I got my hands on the real thing, I played the hell out of it. Enjoy!

And remember what Darth Vader says:

Dave Star Wars

This week saw the season finales of two of my favorite shows, Lost and Heroes. I’ve been hard on Lost this season, but I have to admit that they’d been on a roll these past few episodes. On the other hand, Heroes (aka “just like Lost, except that shit actually happens”) wound up sputtering on its way to the finish line.

Mind you, the last few episodes of Heroes weren’t bad by any means, but seemed a bit sloppy in plotting and execution. Hiro’s dad (as played by George Takei) made a seemingly-unmotivated turnaround to the side of good, and it became very difficult to recall just who was actively involved in the plot to destroy New York City. D.L., who up until his confrontation with Linderman had been able to phase himself and Niki through solid objects, confusingly chose to take a bullet aimed at his wife instead of allowing it to pass through the two of them.

I also found it disappointing to see the “true” form of illusion-casting Candice. It was strongly suggested that she was not a hot girl after all, and was quiet possibly an obese person who used her powers to eat all she wanted without seeming to gain weight. However when she was knocked unconscious, her illusions were broken and it was revealed…that she really was a hot girl after all.

Finally, and most importantly, the big showdown in Kirby Plaza simply didn’t sustain the buildup it had received all season. I know that the budget of a weekly TV series doesn’t allow for the massive superhero battles of Spider-Man 3, but when you’ve got characters like Peter and Sylar, each of whom can manifest ten or so different powers, we ought to see more than a couple of them. Perhaps I was spoiled by the great season finale scuffles of Buffy. And Sylar, who moments before was stopping bullets Magneto-style, allows an overweight Japanese guy to run up and stab him with a samurai sword? (I think that was a fault of the staging; if Hiro had simply appeared right next to Sylar, stopped time, then run him through, it would’ve made much more sense.)

Still, there were some very cool things in that finale, and I especially loved the way in which it immediately moved on to “Volume Two” with its Evil Dead 2-style coda which sees Hiro accidentally timewarped to feudal Japan. I’m very much looking forward to next year. Heroes has become our new Buffy: it’s the fantasy show that Vic and I can watch together and that Vic grooves to as much as I do.

That said, I think that Lost provided the more satisfying season finale. First off, we got something I’d wanted since the start of the season: lots of “Others” being blown up. When Sawyer shot Tom (aka “Mr. Friendly”) in cold blood, the other characters objected to the execution of someone who had just surrendered. “Surrendered,” my eye. If there’s anything we’ve learned about the Others this year, it’s that they’re lying assholes who will say or do anything to buy themselves an advantage.

That’s what made Ben’s attempts to stop Jack from using the satellite phone to contact the alleged rescue boat that much more ironic: if only Ben had ever shown himself to be the least bit trustworthy, he might have had an easier time selling Jack on the idea that the rescue party simply wants the island for its own purposes.

Charlie’s sacrifice, which had been signposted for much of the latter half of the season, was paid off nicely. I really thought that the producers might cop out and let him live. And I’ll admit that I kinda wanted them to; I’ve found Charlie hateful at times, but he really grew on me these last few episodes. Plus, I don’t much like the idea of predestination. (Was it my imagination, or did Mikhail deliberately blow himself up with the grenade? I’m starting to wonder if he isn’t a cartoon character, what with his apparent ability to “die” over and over and just get back up again.)

I loved that Hurley got to be a hero. Not only that, but the writers paid off the VW minibus that they introduced earlier this year. I did a happy clap when Hurley drove to the rescue.

Finally, there was the so-called “game changing” element. While it wasn’t quite as radical as what I’d feared–something along the lines of “they’re all in a snowglobe”–I’ll give them that it was completely unexpected and really does change the game. Vic and I were moaning about being subjected to yet another “Jack’s a jerk flashback,” only to learn that (DUM DUM DUM!!!!) it’s a flash-forward. Neat! Jack and Kate are off the island, but things have not gone well…and Jack desperately wants to get back. I hope that this marks the end of the flashback device, as I feel that the past histories of the characters have been thoroughly mined at this point. Now, flash-forwards, on the other hand…that’s interesting. Good going, Lost, I’m back on board.

Dave TV

In years past, I’ve found it amusing when fanboys got their Doctor Who underwear in a twist over “re-imagined” versions of old sci-fi properties. They got all wrapped in the details (“Starbuck is a woman?”; “Bumblebee isn’t a Volkswagen?”), and overlook the big picture, which is that no matter how much affection they might inspire, the likes of Battlestar Galactica and Transformers really weren’t all that good in the first place.

That’s why it’s a little bit hypocritical to be feeling the way I am after reading this article about the Sci-Fi Channel’s new Flash Gordon. According to its star, Flash doesn’t visit the planet Mongo in an old-fashioned rocketship, but via wormhole technology (think Sliders) that his father invented. And he fights an android in his kitchen! Oh, remember Ming the Merciless? Turns out he’s not entirely evil; he’s an incredibly good-looking, charming guy, and you’ll be able to understand where he’s coming from. (What part of “merciless” didn’t they understand?)

Please allow me to indulge in my “Bumblebee isn’t a Volkswagen?” moment here. If there’s one thing I know about Flash Gordon, it’s that he flies a rocketship invented by the brilliant scientist Dr. Zarkov…who isn’t even mentioned in the article. It sounds as if the travel-by-wormhole thing is a budget-cutting measure, though how expensive is it to whip up a CG spaceship these days? Honestly, if you’re going to remake Flash Gordon with a Ming the Not-So-Merciless, and without a goddamned rocketship, what on Mongo is the point?

Next thing you’re gonna tell me is that the new Bionic Woman won’t make that boing-oing-oing sound when she does something bionic. She won’t? Curse you, Hollywood re-imagineers!

Dave TV

As someone who firmly believes that the most repellent phrase in the English language is “from director Michael Bay” (second most repellent: “maggoty diarrhea”), it pains me to say this, but:

This is a pretty kick-ass trailer.

Dave Movies

Here’s some more fuel for my midlife crisis-in-progress: I have been fitted with bifocals. They had been a long time coming, as I’d been taking off my glasses to look at close-up stuff for a couple of years. My lack of surprise, however, didn’t make me feel any less old.

I went with no-line bifocals, because there’s no reason to advertise that I’m only a few years from pushing up daisies. I’m finding them easy enough to work with. I’d already been peering over my lenses to look at things, so I’m used to bobbing my head to find the focal “sweet spot.”

And I happen to think that they look pretty good, so at least if I have to be a codger, I can be a stylin’ codger.

Dave General

Got back from Dallas late Monday night. Our plane was delayed due to a missing flight attendant. No, she didn’t vanish; she was just held up on another plane.

In general, it was a good trip. The bed at the Hyatt was phenomenally comfortable and laden with pillows. I didn’t have a moment of back trouble while I was there. The conference itself was low-key and not as contentious as it has been in some years past. It didn’t provide many opportunities to get outside the hotel, so we had to make our own. Still, aside from Dealey Plaza and a couple of blocks of restaurants, there wasn’t much within a short walk.

The first day, I arrived very early and had some time to kill, so I spent a couple of hours hanging around the “grassy knoll” at Dealey Plaza. Depending upon whom you believe, that’s the infamous location of the so-called “second gunman” in the JFK assassination. I sat on the steps and read a book while watching the conspiracists wander around taking photos, lining up purported rifle shots and examining manhole covers. There are always several guys hanging around selling booklets about the assassination, ready to waylay passersby with their tales of shadowy cabals and things the government doesn’t want you to know.

The plaza as seen from the knoll itself. The former book depository is on the left, though the sixth floor window where Lee Harvey Oswald was positioned is hidden behind a tree. That car is more or less where Kennedy’s limo was at the time of the shooting.

Someone thoughtfully painted an “X” in the middle of the street at the point Kennedy was shot. People like to stand out there and pose for photos. No, I don’t know why. Yes, it’s a traffic hazard.

Tourists read one of the brochures for sale and look for the key locations in and around the plaza.

That night our first event was at Gilley’s, which I’m pretty sure was not the real one from Urban Cowboy. They did have a mechanical bull which I did not ride. I did, however, wear the hat.

My travelling companions during my stay in Dallas included a couple of fellow PTV programmers. Right to left: me, Cindy, Cindy’s friend Kathrin, and Sherri.

And here’s me attempting to line dance. I have never found a hat in which I could not look like a dick.

The highlight of the stay (outside of that oh-so-comfy bed) was my dinner with the folks from HIT Entertainment, producers of Barney & Friends, etc. It was in the revolving restaurant above the hotel, and I had a wonderful, long conversation with one of their producers, who had some 30+ years of experience working in animation at Disney and Nelvana, and even worked on the first appearance of Boba Fett as seen in the infamous Star Wars Holiday Special.

I peppered her with questions about her career, and she was kind enough to answer, even after I inadvertently derided a number of the projects she worked on at Disney. I was commenting about the sad current state of Disney’s traditional animation department, and how I felt that part of the reason for its decline was that the many direct-to-video sequels (Cinderella 2 and the like) had devalued the reputation of their theatrical cartoons. But it wasn’t until after I’d opened my trap that I realized, to my horror, that she’d been an executive on many of those films. Blarg. For what it’s worth, she didn’t seem offended, nor did she disagree with my opinion.

Anyhow, it’s good to be home at last, where I am unlikely to offend any ex-Disney executives.

Dave General

Teletubbies star Tinky Winky shares his thoughts on the passing of Jerry Falwell.

Dave TV