Ruminations, Haunts, and Errors

Rather than just patronize local restaurants and relax, this weekend we actually took advantage of a bit more urban culture…

• March of the Penguins. Friday night we sauntered over to the Music Box to enjoy the twinkly star lights, live organist, and (most importantly from Liz’s perspective) watch this movie that was completely filled with penguins big and small, sleek and fuzzy. Fascinating stuff, both in how the filmmakers braved a year in Antarctica to obtain such amazing up-close footage and, especially, in the arduous lifecycle of these birds. That penguins survive into the next generation at all is quite astounding…good thing human procreation doesn’t require four-month fasts while standing in frigid blizzard conditions with a meager few hours of light per day! A small part of me wondered what was gained by having this film on the big screen rather than on PBS or DVD, but I suppose I feel better handing over $18.50 to support projects like this–which have the potential to raise awareness–than in support of the latest crappy Hollywood spectacular cash-maker.
• The Pain and the Itch. Saturday we went down a few stops–feeling slightly overdressed in comparison with the late-afternoon Red Line crowd–had dinner at Vinci and then took in this play at the Steppenwolf Theater. Black comedy is an apt description of this one, the dialogue is most definitely funny but the situations lead to the sorts of laughs done in lieu of cringing or crying. The story elements, and particularly the overserious psychobabble of the young parents at the center, certainly provoke some thoughts about the fine line that often stands between earnest attempts at being progressive in domestic social interactions (like child rearing and dealing with the help) and simply replacing one type of dysfunctional family dynamic with another–especially when people aren’t honest with themselves. As to be expected from Steppenwolf, the performances were very good as was the set design, complete with a backyard porch and falling snow. Perhaps best though was the writing: the dialogue was natural and witty, while the plot elements came out in small, well-timed nuggets that whacked the story along at key points and never resorted to surprises to neatly explain away something; I can recall only three major out-of-left-field items: one came with plenty of time left for it to be properly explained, another late in the second half served mainly to draw a new connection among the characters, and the final one at the end served to put a tragicomic exclamation on the play.

We saw RotS last night, and I think this is the best one of the six movies, hands down. Like the other five the dialogue is still mostly crap—Lucas’s ability to make conversations between would-be lovers seem strained and wooden is almost impressive in a car-wreck sort of way–but I think the actors rose above it better than they did in Eps I and II, and they weren’t hamstrung by as many forehead-slappingly inane lines that plagued the first two. However, what really sets this one apart in my view is the tight storyline. Where Phantom Menace careened wildly from one thing to the next with just a weak connection between Big Scenes, RotS moved quickly but smoothly from one event to the next. Where Attack of the Clones struggled to set up storylines, each event in RotS seemed to evolve naturally from the last. Finally, what sets it above the previous high-water mark, Empire Strikes Back, is that the story has broader scope, more subplots, and a greater range between the triumphs and tragedies–especially for Anakin Skywalker.

The connections and echoes of events in the later movies are also numerous, and they provide a richer context. Some are ironic: Anakin Skywalker wielding a blue light saber to battle a Sith who uses a red one. Some are prophetic: Palpatine turning in his seat near a huge window in a tower to watch his current apprentice, and intended future one, battle with light sabers. Yet most importantly the movie gives new perspective on Darth Vader, both in how tenuously he holds onto life after ceasing to ‘really’ be Anakin Skywalker (which helps explain why losing a hand in Return of the Jedi could be instrumental in his death) and in how he yet clings to some humanity; to see the big meanie who was so threatening when I was a child cry out in rage and pain over the death of someone was certainly novel.

A lot of people have been quick to savage the previous two episodes; I’ll concede that the bad acting of IV-VI is usually preferable to the stiff acting of I and II since it’s at least more earnest, but I think a lot of the disappointment simply resulted from viewing some movies from an adult perspective and comparing them with movies loved as a child–when we couldn’t as easily see the flaws. Yet I think that tendency to belittle might obscure what an amazing job Lucas (or at least his design team) did in smoothly evolving elements–from Naboo fashions to clone-trooper armor to Alderaanian spacecraft design–through episodes I-III into forms that match up with the more familiar ones in episodes IV-VI.

Since a little before its release there has been some hubbub about political overtones in the story, but like racial slurs in Phantom Menace and Zen on mountaintops I think it was a matter of people bringing their own views into the theater and projecting them onto the screen. Really, I was looking for political needling, and all I could find were two lines:

Padme: So this is how liberty dies? With thunderous applause?
…
Anakin: If you are not with me, you are my enemy.

• Trey Parker is certainly no stranger to crossing the line with raunchy stuff, but the MPAA’s attempt to rate his new movie, Team America, with an NC-17 rating due to a sex scene between two puppets seems absurd. C’mon, decapitating puppets and throwing them off buildings is okay, but having them flop around each other is too much for the impressionable youth of our country? The farce surrounding puppet sexual activity aside, I can’t figure out why people find violence in movies acceptable but sexual situations are anathema. What kind of message is this supposed to be sending, anyway?
• On a more upbeat note, there’s an interesting (if somewhat longish) article that analyzes the economics of hits vs. obscure items in the music, movie, and book industries. The conclusion is interesting: by showing that there’s a huge market for the non-hits, outfits like Amazon, Google, eBay, and NetFlix may be at the vanguard of a change in the entertainment industries that allows broader availability of, well, everything–not just the proven hits and in-vogue acts. I hope this analysis proves true, for not only would it result in downward pressure on prices, more importantly it would allow greater exposure for artists and writers who want to make stuff that is good–well, at least genuine–rather than just what can appeal to popular tastes. An interesting read, definitely.

With the impending release of the original three Star Wars films on DVD (finally), many have noted that Lucas added several more revisions to those included in the 1997 Special Edition versions. The one getting most press now is the alteration of the final scene in Return of the Jedi to include Hayden Christiansen for better continuity with Episodes I-III. I’ve noticed that parts of geekdom are in an uproar over these changes. Seeing this angst, I have to ask:

What’s the big frickin’ deal here, people?

Okay, you found the Han Solo-Jabba the Hutt scene in A New Hope a bit awkward and cheesy, I’ll give you that. But what astounds me is that nearly all of the commentary seems to be that 1) the changes are bad because these ‘new’ releases aren’t the originals, and/or 2) Lucas has no right to mess with them. The second is really laughable…what, once a creative work is released to the public the author has no right to make revisions? Even if those revisions are mainly to add some touches and continuity that he’d wanted there ever since the beginning? As for the first gripe, well, I can see how someone might want access to the original versions, but many of the arguments seem to assume that the revisions, ipso facto, degraded the films. C’mon, the movies are hardly great works of art, and all of the changes mostly added some extra polish to some places that needed it.