This Week in Geek (8-14/11/26)

"Accomplishments"

In theaters: No doubt, some will complain that Godzilla Minus Zero doesn't have enough Godzilla in it, but Takashi Yamazaki is absolutely correct in his homage to the Godzilla film - this is how it's largely been done when the Big GZ has had to fight another giant monster. The new kaiju - in this case, the origin of one of his traditional opponents - causes devastation and only eventually does our boy show up to trounce it. As with Minus One, the focus is on human drama, with that film's leads returning for more hardship, and the preparation that would actually be required to defeat such an unnatural disaster (this time, taking a page from Pressure). One of the lessons the kamikaze pilot of the first film learned was that it was better to live than to sacrifice yourself, but the second makes an adjustment - self-sacrifice for the greater good must still be part of the human equation. It's needless sacrifice that's to be avoided. And of course, the visuals are top notch, and you can tell Yamazaki worked in anime in even simple shots like my favorite low-key moment, when the little girl screams in Godzilla pose, a sandbox where the kids made little mountains in the background. That's real attention to detail.

At home: I am generally up for a horny, Hitchcockian De Palma thriller, and Snake Eyes is a good one, the conceit of which is that a political assassination occurs during a boxing match at an Atlantic City casino, right in front of a sleaze bag cop - Nicolas Cage. Did he pick up enough clues to figure out what's going on? Or will he come up... snake eyes? The title has another meaning, exposed in the film's structure/style, as we see the events replayed through other people's eyes, often literally, as if the camera were their eyeballs. And so the story reveals itself like a peeling onion, with fun action and suspenseful moments, often playing like Die Hard without following that formula. Cage's corrupt detective will have his morals tested to their limit by the end. A lot of recognizable stars in this, including Gary Sinise and Carla Gugino, but I really want to know the story - if there is one - of how Kevin Dunn got cast in a movie where an important character is called Kevin Dunne. I could do with less epilogue, but a lot of fun.

Scorsese's Bringing Out the Dead paints a visually gorgeous picture of New York at night, all neons and slick asphalt, sharing space with a kind of decrepit underworld where ghosts roam. If this feels like Purgatory, especially for Nicolas Cage's burned-out paramedic Frank, forever incapable of leaving his job or getting fired, it's because it's meant to. Scorsese has said that he considers paramedics saints (based on his experiences with his aging parents) and he creates an in-between world where Frank is a sort of empathetic Grim Reaper and suffers for it, even placing himself as its God by voicing the dispatcher. It makes for a very weird film, a bleak comedy where hospital staff are belligerent, ambulance drivers speak like preachers or kick patients' asses, and a new drug is on the streets to make the righteous fall. Embrace that weirdness, you'll sleep better.

John Woo doing a straight war film might be at odds with his high-octane style, and in Windtalkers, he does restrain himself a bit. But only a bit, as the battle scenes are generally spectacular, with brutal damage, dynamic camera work, firework explosions, and the odd video slo-mo. There's perhaps one battle too many - it's a little exhausting - but don't ask me which one to cut. I saw it back in the day, when I didn't know who John Woo was, and my biggest takeaway was the whole concept of U.S. forces using Navajo code-talkers to confound the Japanese in World War II - a very interesting piece of military history. Nicolas Cage is a Marine tasked with protecting one, but he's getting back into action after lying about his hearing loss (not that it plays into the plot very much, it's mostly his PTSD that's a problem). There's a rote subplot about a racist member of the unit, of course, and since it's Woo, Catholicism is brought up in an interesting way. Woo's American output isn't exactly beloved, but though one might like the insanity of some of his pure action films, Windtalkers is easily his most solid.

Between Werner Herzog and Nicolas Cage, I expected Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans to be a lot weirder, but aside from some jarring lizard came work, it's a pretty normal corrupt cop narrative. I suppose it comes down to a script written by a cop show veteran. I simply can't help but compare it to Abel Ferrara's bleak 1992 masterpiece, which also had a bad cop spiralling, but more of a sense of urgency. In some ways, this is a complete reversal of the original film. Cage's copper isn't irredeemable the way Harvey Keitel's was. He's a tragic figure, whose heroism leads to an injury that addicts him to pain medication, and then the drugs start making decisions for him. What to make of that almost fantastical ending? Cage's final chuckle seems to indicate surprise at even having survived to that point. New Orleans is fairly well used - the watery bookends, for example - but I wish they'd done more with the Katrina aftermath than what is ultimately put on screen. Plenty of interesting ideas, but it didn't come together for me as a cohesive whole.

Set in a small Texas border town, Lone Star has a real sense of place and a great cast, not to mention its unfolding mystery, a cold case that might put shade on the current Sheriff's father, not that he minds. Other secrets will out, and how the film manages to avoid melodrama is a minor miracle. We're sometimes just behind or just ahead of the characters, and sometimes we're right, and sometimes we're wrong. But it's all good. It's really about history. Of these intertwined families (in a small place, they're bound to be). Of this very specific community (its Mexican majority, Black minority, and White Apartheid, especially in the the past sequences). Of America itself (Elizabeth Peña - an underrated gem of an actress - plays a history teacher, Ron Canada's bar owner is fascinated with Seminole history, and there's the big picture of race relations there). To move on, we may have to let the past go (the point of the military subplot, and that great last line). Peter Sayles's transitions between present and past are wonderfully done, and we leave Frontera, TX wishing it were a television series we could come back to next week.

Last One Laughing's Halloween series (UK flavor) is actually pretty well thought-out, slimming down the number of hours and participants to reach 4 episodes, an afternoon's work for British comedians, including two returning ladies and generally recruiting from comedians who have some connection to spooky stuff, whether that's Lou Sanders, a well-known believer in the supernatural, or master of the macabre Reece Shearsmith. Another Halloween twist: You can also be eliminated if you scream, so there are jump scare traps all over the newly-decorated studio. Comedy and horror (and these reactions) are both predicated on surprising the audience, so I find this works well. Everything is themed, including several of the acts the participants have prepared, the surprise guest-stars, and the challenges. These might even be more fun in a shortened format.

Films That Take Place in Our Future
[2029, according to 1997] Sleeping Dogs: When only villains make the poster... This cheap 90s Canadian sci-fi flick starts with a heist gone wrong in which the action hero gets help with an indentured gem cutter called Pandora, who soon becomes true to her name when the two of them are trapped in a container headed for the same destination as the gangster boss (C. Thomas Howell) he was stealing from - a penal colony on another planet! Neck-breaking whiplash when the first Act hardly seems to take place in the future. The bad guy decants other convicts in stasis, including a sexy "cyborg", and they try to take over the ship. It's a lot of dumb automatic weapons fire (which too often misses) and some random, gratuitous bits of nudity, and I kind of lost what mild interest I had before the end.
Also happens in 2029: Planet of the Apes (2001), The Terminator/T2/Genisys, Logan, Ghost in the Shell

[2030, according to 2017] The Humanity Bureau: Very obviously conceived during Trump 1.0, this cheap sci-fi vehicle for Nicolas Cage has definite "be careful what you vote for" vibes (just look at who Cage's first assignment is), creating a world in which the economy has collapsed and the government is "deporting" people who are a "burden to society". Cage works for the "Humanity Bureau", tasked with evaluating potential burdens and sending them to "New Eden". And if that sounds like a cool place to live, I've got an irradiated bridge to sell you. At least the movie doesn't wait too long before exposing the truth, and having had his doubts, Cage is under investigation by more ruthless colleagues, and soon on the run, trying to flee to Canada with the woman and her son he was supposed to deport. The agent has a secret, as does the woman, and that's just about it in terms of creating interest. The action chase could have been the result of any dystopian set-up, and the "surprise" ending may prove a little unsatisfying. The kid's too much of a brat to get a passing grade, and everything else is just okay.
Also happens in 2030: Bill & Ted Face the Music's future sequences

Books: I suppose my one complaint about Bob Mortimer's The Hotel Avocado is that it follows directly from The Satsuma Complex, and takes a while to get out of "catching up with Gary and the gang" mode. There are new villains (who I quite like, they're terrifying), but they're essentially subservient to past villains, trying to prevent loser lawyer Gary Thorn from testifying in the previous case. I was always more interested in the hotel in Brighton than whatever was happening in London, and eventually, the novel does move there more permanently. If the beginning left me wanting, the back half is on more solid ground, with the usual thrills, twists and turns. Though Satsuma was all from Gary's perspective, Avocado uses several POV characters in the same way Mortimer's later novel, The Long Shoe, would. He hasn't mastered it yet, and the timelines are a little awkward as a result, but it's a fine way to keep information from the reader. One of the surprise characters is a bit silly, the other pretty scary, and the biggest surprise for me is that someone who comes from entertainment media wouldn't write something that's FILMABLE. Visuals would erase half the twists! Prepare to update the images in your head. I would call this the weakest of his first three, and best read directly on from the previous, since it's all one story, really.

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