Galactic Masochism

NOTE: This whole idea was launched by my overwhelming love for what is definitely the BOTM for June 2007, The Making of Star Wars: The Definitive Story Behind the Original Film. Buy it for the Geek in your life TODAY!

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A small amount of explanation regarding the above title is in order.

By now it's no surprise that I am, as they say in more conservative circles, a "geek." Whether it's playing Steve Jackson card games in college, arguing about whether Go-Bots were better than Transformers back in junior high (I guess this settles that question), or proudly placing Garth Ennis and Alan Moore* next to Flannery O'Connor and Mark Twain on my bookshelves today, I have always been honored to align myself with the geek crowd.

But there's one thing, one single solitary item, that truly labels us as the geeks we are. One event, one place in time, originating back in May of 1977 but reverberating all over the galaxy to this very day.

Yes, my rebel friends. I refer to, of course, STAR WARS.

There are few things I can think of that played a larger role in my formative years. My mother (of course), the Atari 2600, and STAR WARS, although not necessarily in that order. Witness what is still the most memorable Christmas in my life, taken in 1979:

Yessir. Sure a lot of people had the Millennium Falcon, and maybe even a few of you had the Death Star action playset. But how many of you had the original Star Wars Droid Factory?

Quick aside: Let me take a moment to mention the extreme love and affection my mother obviously had for me - despite their somewhat nappy appearance, who else would have taken the time and effort to latch-hook their son portraits of both Batman and Superman? Damn I love my moms...

Okay, back to the subject at hand. THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK followed on the heels of STAR WARS, and from the moment Luke crash landed on Dagobah there was no going back for me - I was completely hooked. A few years later RETURN OF JEDI crashed into theaters and geeks everywhere celebrated the appearance of Princess Leia in a bikini, suffered with good cheer when the Ewoks appeared, and cheered like crazy whenever Han Solo was onscreen. Fans the world over celebrated the conclusion of a saga that would stand the test of time...

...until 1997, when everything changed.

In the mid 90's the rumors became official when George Lucas announced he was going to film THREE!! NEW!! STAR WARS!! FILMS!!, all taking place before and leading up to what was now known as "Episode IV: A New Hope." The roar of a billion geeks could be heard from as far away as Tatooine. And to top it all off, Lucas was going to RE-RELEASE THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY IN THEATERS, WITH SOUPED-UP SPECIAL FX AND "A FEW NEW SURPRISES"!!

My friends, the glee was enough to shatter the Death Star all over again. The chance to relive our youth and see the films the way we had in the beginning, up on the big screen. A chance for people who came to the game late to get in on the experience the way we did so long ago. I waited on line with friends for those early tickets, eager to see what new marvels awaited us.

What? Whaddya mean Greedo shot first?!

To be honest, I wasn't as offended as other people were by the changes in the new trilogy. True, I vastly preferred the films in their original incarnations - there was something wholesome and sincere about the practical effects, matte paintings and old-world charm that embodied the movies. But I wasn't going to fault Lucas for going in and "improving" on his original intentions - certainly not when the promise of three new films was on the horizon. Sure, I was dubious when I heard the first film would be called THE PHANTOM MENACE, but there was no cause for alarm, was there?

Two words: Jar-Jar.

Earth slowly tipped in its orbit that day, as a million collective shoulders sagged at the inane childish antics and shady accents that permeated the PHANTOM, and I think today most geeks put the "new" trilogy of films slightly behind HOWARD THE DUCK in terms of quality. For myself, I know that as we watched the second film ATTACK OF THE CLONES my wife pronounced out loud that it was the worst film she ever saw in her life, and we both laughed out loud at REVENGE OF THE SITH'S ending where a seemingly midget Vader screams, "Padme!" with his fists clenched in petulance.

Let down, folks. Money back, drop your light-sabre in disbelief let down.

But hold on...maybe we were a little too hard on things? After all, we weren't comparing the new films to the old films, not really. We were comparing the new films to both the old films and the sense of adventure, joy, and possibilities that came with growing up with those films. Was it really fair to judge Episodes 1-3 against your childhood?

Well, that's what I'm going to attempt to find out. Starting tonight I'm diving in where few dare to tread again - I'll watch, take notes, and report back on STAR WARS: THE PHANTOM MENACE, ATTACK OF THE CLONES, and REVENGE OF THE SITH, and see if indeed, they really were as bad as all that.

Wave your Geek flag high and come along over the next few weeks, won't you?

* If you don't know who Garth Ennis or Alan Moore are, chances are you're not a geek and may safely move on to another post.

Is It Okay...

...to read Fast Food Nation while sitting in the food court eating McDonald's?

Just asking.

Shameless "Cute" Post

How can so much time go by without a couple shots of the NFU?

4 weeks old and getting chubbier by the day. We're both still learning his different cries, his crazy facial expressions, and his overwhelming capacity to pee at the precise moment you remove the wet nap to apply the Vaseline or a new diaper...

Feel free to Photshop in the pencil-thin mustache he's twirling in diabolical glee. "Heh heh heh...my plan is finally coming to fruition..."

On weekends Jack prefers to lounge in the tub, whiling away the hours contemplating the larger issues at hand...poop, bottles, poop, and poop. For some reason he was strangely at peace during the latest bath episode - definitely NOT the case last time - the screaming actually came through my headphones which were blasting some vintage Metallica (Hit the Lights!).

Stranger and more wonderful every day.

Lil' Bit About Movies

Been a while since anything film-related was posted here, mainly because life with Jack has caused my film consumption to dwindle to almost nothing or, at the very least, nothing worth writing about. Three separate attempts to watch Jean Pierre Melville's ARMY OF SHADOWS have ended in failure (quick review: what I've seen so far is great - a quiet tension that builds over the course of the film's various vignettes), and THE BURMESE HARP hasn't even been unwrapped yet.

So instead of an in-depth review (a bunch of which are sitting around waiting to get done, including the two above), here are a couple little tidbits and recommendations. Wider coverage to recommence as soon as Free Time graces me with Her presence again.

DANTE'S INFERNO

Saw this pop up over at twitchfilm.net, which is great for learning about obscure and foreign films. Paul Zaloom's name might not be familiar, but his face certainly is. He is the star of Beakman's World, a zany science show that was a zany 90's version of Mr. Wizard's World (which, by the way, RIP Don Herbert). However, Zaloom's got a lot more in him then science shows, and his newest venture takes from the classroom to the depths of Hell itself. DANTE'S INFERNO is a cut-and-paste animation of the first book of the Divine Comedy, updating the tale to a more modern environment. There's a trailer on the website, and the animation looks fantastic, especially in our current over-saturated CGI market.

IF...(Criterion)

Once upon a time, Bravo used to show movies completely uncut and unedited, commercial free. One of the films it used to show constantly was a tiny British film called IF...., a staggering depiction of youthful rebellion taking place at an English boarding school. Every time it came on I was hooked, watching from beginning to end. It was one of those films that, for me, was a personal discovery. No one had ever mentioned it, I never heard or read anything about it...one day I turned on the television and was stopped in my tracks. Utilizing a blend of visual styles and a powerhouse performance from a very young Malcolm McDowell, IF... finally gets it's due in a deluxe 2-Disc edition compliments of Criterion. I can't wait to see if the film lives up to the impressions it made on my as a youngster when I first caught it all those year ago.

So far I have missed every single summer "tent pole" release, and as each one moves away, I get less and less concerned. In fact right now my biggest sense of loss is not missing SPIDER-MAN 3 or PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 3 or FANTASTIC FOUR 2 (that one's a relief, actually); it's missing out on WAITRESS, Adrienne Shelly's quirky romantic comedy about love and, uh, pies. No really - if you haven't seen the trailer check it out. Looks great, and it's a shame about what happened to Shelly, whose life was cut far too short.

And speaking of Adrienne Shelly, when the heck are we going to get a decent DVD release of TRUST? That was my first introduction to both Hal Hartley and Adrienne Shelley, and a film that also long overdue to get some cool treatment.

Are you listening, Criterion?

Father's Day

First time I get to be the Object of the holiday instead of just a participant. It started with my father calling the house at 8:30 AM, crying like he just got out of STEEL MAGNOLIAS, wanting to be sure he was the first to wish me a happy Father's Day and to tell me how proud he was of me.

Now THAT is the way to begin a great Father's Day.

The weekend was a blur of Guitar Hero II tournaments, bean-bag throwing (thanks to Guest Blogger Jason's HAWESOME housewarming gift), playing "freeze tag" with my nephew, and loads of barbecue. The Missus took a shot of me with the NFU in my new "Dad" uniform:

Unfortunately my "Rookie Dad" is partially obscured, but I was wearing it with pride today.

The boy continues to get bigger and more wonderful. Every little thing seems like a revelation the first time he does it. This morning as I was holding him he let out what can only be described as a monumental amount of gas before looking at me and laughing. I swear to the powers on high he cackled and then, maybe realizing he was far too young to be laughing already, abruptly stopped, opened his eyes wide, and burped.

Never a prouder moment. Happy Father's Day, everybody.