It isn’t often that I struggle to think of an adequate and fitting intro for one of my reviews. I take a lot of pride in trying to find interesting, odd and hopefully unique ways of introducing a reader to the review I am writing. Now sure, sometime I will have the occasional beef with writer’s block but it has yet to result in anything more then a rather minor skirmish with frustration. Often times it even allows me to look at my review from a slightly altered perspective, and that is all that I need to connect with the proper delivery system. But as I write this review I am sitting here, humbly before you, with nothing to offer. Not even a single solitary rambling take that inexplicably turns into a bridge for my review.
Sure, I could tell you about how I went to watch The Strangers this evening, and rather then enjoying the film, I found the most entertaining moment of the entire 90 minutes was when I watched Derek Jeter making a drunken fool out of himself in the theater lobby. I could tell you about that, but since last week’s intro was about my less then eloquent brush with Eddie Izzard it would feel hopelessly like a retread of my previous intro. Kind of like how it felt watching The Strangers.
When I was growing up in Wisconsin I would often times kill time at my local video store. I would roam through the aisles, looking at the VHS boxes, searching for something interesting to watch. I was fascinated with genre mash-ups and Ralph Bakshi’s films and quickly immersed myself in them. But Waukesha wasn’t exactly stationed along the cutting edge of pop culture, so I had some rather sizable gaps in both my film knowledge and exposure.
It wasn’t until college that I began meeting people who were giving enough to introduce me to German Expressionism, Italian neorealism, and Turner Classic Movies. From then on I always have had great respect for people who introduce me to new and exciting things, especially when it comes to films.
Which brings me to my girlfriend, Anna. I found my first excuse to talk to her when she was reading Watership Down, which was one of my favorite books (as well as animated films) as a child. Much to my delight she had never read it before so it afforded me the perfect opportunity to lay down some serious knowledge, and from there we soon began introducing each other to all sorts of of new experiences. One interesting thing to note is she was far more open to trying out my recommendations early on then I was with hers. This is quite simply explained. She likes Bjork, Dogville, and Ayn Rand. I like cool crap.
Not wanting to run into the same issues as last week (delay in watching the movie/head cold from Hell), in which I watched Razorback and wrote the column in a span of roughly 24 hours I made plans this week to attend a midnight screening of A Boy and His Dog, and of course, those plans inevitably fell through. But luckily I had a backup plan in place for when my frontdown plan fell apart, and I was able to watch the film just a few days later and well in advance of my self-imposed deadline. Now, in an attempt to have everything written before I move on Monday, I am writing this on the holiest day of the year, my birthday.
My birthday has already gone quite well, as I received my primary gift from my girlfriend several days earlier. That gift being V: The Complete Series. I hadn’t watched the television show since it first aired 24 years ago and was pleasantly surprised to find it held up far better then I could have possibly hoped for, leading me to immerse myself in the DVD set. Then today I was given another surprisingly pleasant gift, that of weather so nice that I almost didn’t need my winter coat!
But, of course, this run of perfection would not last forever. Today also marked the scheduled weekly appearance of one of our schizophrenic patrons. She’s nice enough and she means well but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s is completely convinced that people are living behind her computer screen and they are transforming her face with every word she types. I know this because every time she comes in she corners me and proceeds to tell me the latest horrible event that has happened to her.
It’s a story you thought only Alan Moore could think up, but here it is. H.G. Wells is forced to travel through time to 1979 in an effort to track down Jack the Ripper, whom he has unwittingly unleashed upon the modern age. Starring Caligula as H.G. Wells and the Master Control Program as Jack the Ripper. Co-starring McDonald’s jokes that Coming to America would inevitably rip-off.
I’ve always had a thing for remakes and sequels, remakes especially. While sequels almost inevitably attempt to re-create the same formula that was so successful in the original installment, with remakes you are opening a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. Sometimes you’ll get the exact same movie (Psycho), other times you will get something stylistically different but just as effective as the original (Invasion of the Body Snatchers), but on those extra special occasions you’ll get something not just wholly different but just as unique a creation as the original (The Bicycle Thief/Pee Wee’s Big Adventure). And one of my favorite childhood movies just happened to be a remake, only I didn’t know it at the time and the director refuses to acknowledge it as such, and that was Star Wars (The Hidden Fortress).
Show me a child of the 80’s that didn’t like Star Wars and I will show you a liar. While Star Wars captivated nearly everyone’s imagination it might as well have been crack cocaine to my adolescent brain. I was a junkie from the moment I saw that first Star Destroyer appear on screen. This addiction has followed me well into adulthood. I own the movies, the television shows, the television movies; I even have a copy of the infamous Holiday Special. I have posters and books and Japanese sculptures of several characters and I have the toys. Oh the toys, toys, toys. (more…)
It isn’t often that I struggle to think of an adequate and fitting intro for one of my reviews. I take a lot of pride in trying to find interesting, odd and hopefully unique ways of introducing a reader to the review I am writing. Now sure, sometime I will have the occasional beef with writer’s block but it has yet to result in anything more then a rather minor skirmish with frustration. Often times it even allows me to look at my review from a slightly altered perspective, and that is all that I need to connect with the proper delivery system. But as I write this review I am sitting here, humbly before you, with nothing to offer. Not even a single solitary rambling take that inexplicably turns into a bridge for my review.
Not wanting to run into the same issues as last week (delay in watching the movie/head cold from Hell), in which I watched 
I’ve always had a thing for remakes and sequels, remakes especially. While sequels almost inevitably attempt to re-create the same formula that was so successful in the original installment, with remakes you are opening a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. Sometimes you’ll get the exact same movie (
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