As we've previously established, I like old movies, and old action movies are probably my favorite. Yesterday, I watched Breakheart Pass, which is from 1975, but set out west sometime in the late 1800s. The basic plot is that Charles Bronson is a wanted man who gets picked up by a US Marshal in a small western town. The marshal decides to take him by train to the nearest fort to face justice. The two of them board a train headed to the fort, along with a bunch of other passengers and a group of soldiers.
Then, of course, havoc ensues.
1. Charles Bronson was kind of weird looking. I don't know if it's the haircut or the mustache or what, and it's not helped by the giant, weird fur coat he's rocking here. I mean, the man's a decent actor and a good action star, but man...not attractive.
2. This has some strong Murder on the Orient Express vibes, as well as a little bit of Agatha Christie's Ten Little Indians, in that you've got a group of people trapped on a moving train, almost none of whom are who they claim to be, and they're dropping dead at an alarming rate.
3. It took me quite a while to figure out what was going on, and who was responsible. I was frankly sort of impressed since I'm usually pretty good at ferreting out plot twists.
4. I was glad the romantic subplot remained very very sub. I kind of thought it was downright yikes due to the age difference, but the main actress (aka one of only two women in the entire movie) turned out to be 39 and not 22 so it wouldn't have been SO off. (Bronson was 54 at the time.) Um, further research tells me that she and Bronson were married when this was made. FURTHER sidenote--she was also married to Ducky from NCIS, and he introduced her to Bronson while they were making The Great Escape. Oops. She once famously said that the reason she was in so many Charles Bronson movies is because no other actress would work with him. I hope she was joking.
5. There's a pretty good fight on top of a moving train car. There's also some decent explosions.
6. Because this is a western, there are some Indigenous people. They are on the side of the villains, but they're not particularly terrible. Also, the actor playing the chief was actually Lakota, and not some Greek guy they painted brown, so kudos there, casting department.
7. On the whole, I liked this one. Not enough to watch it again, but enough to say if you enjoy 70s action movies, this one is worth your time.
Wednesday, July 15, 2020
Sunday, July 12, 2020
"I'm looking at a tin star with a drunk pinned on it." El Dorado (and also Dust Up)
Twice in one weekend -- I know, I'm surprised too. Yet here we are.
After my adventure with The Three Musketeers, I figured I'd try something else new. At some point, for a reason lost even to myself, I added a movie called Dust Up to my Amazon watchlist. I can't figure out why, since it was a small indie from 2013 without a single recognizable star in it, aside from the woman who played Tara on Buffy (whom I liked, but I'm not exactly following her career). The basic premise is that a one-eyed veteran, who has moved out to the high desert to escape his traumatic past, ends up crossing the path of a deranged meth dealer, and ends up having to fight off a hoard of methed up crazy people, with the help of a young mom (the aforementioned Tara), her dopey addict husband, and the vet's indigenous (?) friend. It was...weird. If I had to make comparisons, I'd say it reminded me quite a bit of From Dusk Til Dawn, what with the B movie cast, over-the-top violence, and tacky effects. There were quite a few very funny moments, and I liked the leads quite a bit. The Native friend was...troubling. I wasn't sure if he was supposed to actually be indigenous, or just one of those people who fakes it, but it did give me some moments of eeegh. I'm not sure I'd strongly recommend it, but if you're a person who enjoys bargain basement Tarantino, it's not a total waste of time.
The other movie I watched was El Dorado. And before you ask, no, not the cartoon. This is the 1967 film with John Wayne, Robert Mitchum, and James Caan. It's one of those classic sixties westerns that involves groups of heavily armed men shooting at each other for convoluted reasons. As usual, I found it utterly delightful. Some thoughts I had:
1. The relationship between Wayne and Mitchum is...well, someone is probably writing slash about it somewhere, and for good reason. It's like the male version of "gals being pals." The two of them were trading some rather heated looks. Perhaps I just read too much slash fic, but the undertones there felt scorching to me. Maybe more so from Mitchum's side, but for a guy who is a legend for being a "man's man," John Wayne was delivering some smolder himself. I kept waiting for them to kiss. (Spoiler: they did not.) The whole bit about how Mitchum fell apart because some woman left him...um, we all know it's because John Wayne left. You're not fooling anybody here. I did not buy his relationship with the local madam for a second. Or maybe yes, but there were definitely some bi vibes happening.
4. Caan's character clearly does not understand the relationship going on here, either. Him and the old guy with the bugle seem determined to just stay out of the way and let the other two trade meaningful looks uninterrupted.
4. Holy hell, do I love the men of the Caan family. My deep lust for Scott is well-documented, but his father was no slouch when he was young, either. Just so tiny and feisty! I knew there was a reason my favorite Corleone was always Sonny. He doesn't disappoint in this, and he brings in the sexy, sexy comic relief.
5. I haven't watched nearly enough Robert Mitchum movies, but I need to add more to my list. The man can break your heart with just a single facial expression. There's a part where he comes back after being laughed out of a saloon that just about broke me. And then watching John Wayne try to soothe him through it...
6. Special effects in the 60s were very rudimentary. Don't think I didn't notice you throwing that dummy down during that horse trampling scene. It wasn't exactly "just fling the plastic skeleton and hope for the best in Army Of Darkness" level obvious, but it was not subtle.
7. Hey, Ed Asner! I almost always like Ed Asner.
8. There were only three women in this, and it most assuredly does NOT pass the Bechdel test. However, the sister with the shotgun is pretty badass. She is going to give James Caan and his bitty ass a run for his money.
9. There is a racist bit. It is "Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffanys" bad, but at least it's mercifully short. But ouch. Bad.
10. The poem: I always forget about Edgar Allan Poe, and it's always a mistake. Yeah, he was a massive drunken creep, but there's a reason his poems are still famous.
11. That was just a delight.
After my adventure with The Three Musketeers, I figured I'd try something else new. At some point, for a reason lost even to myself, I added a movie called Dust Up to my Amazon watchlist. I can't figure out why, since it was a small indie from 2013 without a single recognizable star in it, aside from the woman who played Tara on Buffy (whom I liked, but I'm not exactly following her career). The basic premise is that a one-eyed veteran, who has moved out to the high desert to escape his traumatic past, ends up crossing the path of a deranged meth dealer, and ends up having to fight off a hoard of methed up crazy people, with the help of a young mom (the aforementioned Tara), her dopey addict husband, and the vet's indigenous (?) friend. It was...weird. If I had to make comparisons, I'd say it reminded me quite a bit of From Dusk Til Dawn, what with the B movie cast, over-the-top violence, and tacky effects. There were quite a few very funny moments, and I liked the leads quite a bit. The Native friend was...troubling. I wasn't sure if he was supposed to actually be indigenous, or just one of those people who fakes it, but it did give me some moments of eeegh. I'm not sure I'd strongly recommend it, but if you're a person who enjoys bargain basement Tarantino, it's not a total waste of time.
The other movie I watched was El Dorado. And before you ask, no, not the cartoon. This is the 1967 film with John Wayne, Robert Mitchum, and James Caan. It's one of those classic sixties westerns that involves groups of heavily armed men shooting at each other for convoluted reasons. As usual, I found it utterly delightful. Some thoughts I had:
1. The relationship between Wayne and Mitchum is...well, someone is probably writing slash about it somewhere, and for good reason. It's like the male version of "gals being pals." The two of them were trading some rather heated looks. Perhaps I just read too much slash fic, but the undertones there felt scorching to me. Maybe more so from Mitchum's side, but for a guy who is a legend for being a "man's man," John Wayne was delivering some smolder himself. I kept waiting for them to kiss. (Spoiler: they did not.) The whole bit about how Mitchum fell apart because some woman left him...um, we all know it's because John Wayne left. You're not fooling anybody here. I did not buy his relationship with the local madam for a second. Or maybe yes, but there were definitely some bi vibes happening.
2. I'm pretty sure she was a madam. No one exactly said, but it was strongly implied. Particularly the bit where she suggests she could manage to be both Wayne and Mitchum's girl at the same time. Wayne looked intrigued. Mitchum looked concerned. (See point 1.)
4. Caan's character clearly does not understand the relationship going on here, either. Him and the old guy with the bugle seem determined to just stay out of the way and let the other two trade meaningful looks uninterrupted.
4. Holy hell, do I love the men of the Caan family. My deep lust for Scott is well-documented, but his father was no slouch when he was young, either. Just so tiny and feisty! I knew there was a reason my favorite Corleone was always Sonny. He doesn't disappoint in this, and he brings in the sexy, sexy comic relief.
5. I haven't watched nearly enough Robert Mitchum movies, but I need to add more to my list. The man can break your heart with just a single facial expression. There's a part where he comes back after being laughed out of a saloon that just about broke me. And then watching John Wayne try to soothe him through it...
6. Special effects in the 60s were very rudimentary. Don't think I didn't notice you throwing that dummy down during that horse trampling scene. It wasn't exactly "just fling the plastic skeleton and hope for the best in Army Of Darkness" level obvious, but it was not subtle.
7. Hey, Ed Asner! I almost always like Ed Asner.
8. There were only three women in this, and it most assuredly does NOT pass the Bechdel test. However, the sister with the shotgun is pretty badass. She is going to give James Caan and his bitty ass a run for his money.
9. There is a racist bit. It is "Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffanys" bad, but at least it's mercifully short. But ouch. Bad.
10. The poem: I always forget about Edgar Allan Poe, and it's always a mistake. Yeah, he was a massive drunken creep, but there's a reason his poems are still famous.
11. That was just a delight.
Thoughts on the 2011 Steampunk Three Musketeers
(Cross-posted from FB. I miss movie reviews. So here I am.)
Watching the 2011 steampunk Three Musketeers.
1. I like so many of the people in this cast. This should be better.
2. Remember back when Orlando Bloom was a thing? Weird, right? He’s kind of...fun as a villain, though. I think he might be one of those “character actor in a lead’s body” types. Also, he should never do anything but costume dramas, because the look suits him.
3. No matter the adaptation, Porthos is always the best Musketeer. I am not willing to debate this.
4. Is D’Atagnan SUPPOSED to be a complete void of charisma? Because that’s almost as universal as the Porthos thing. Is it because he is a literal child? Also, who was responsible for choosing that hairstyle for him? I demand a personal apology.
5. I wish Milla Jovovich’s husband would make better movies for her to be in.
6. It’s like they watched Guy Richie’s ‘Sherlock Holmes’ and said “Let’s do that!” but somehow got it just slightly wrong. Like they were trying for the same cheeky, winking, gritty tone, but it’s too well-lit and the sentiment is just shy of Hallmark level.
7. Fights are good, though.
8. So are the costumes.
9. This cast is WAY prettier than the 1993 version. Sorry Kiefer (and Kiefer’s mullet).
10. I like that the women have more to do in this one than just look scared. (Or, in Rebecca De Mornay’s case, vaguely constipated.)
11. I did not sign up to watch “Villains Special Effect Spectacular” here. Why are the Musketeers barely in this film?!
12. Speaking of, Christophe Waltz is doing his best, but when it comes to creepily smiling sex predator cardinal, no one will ever be able to take the crown from Tim Curry.
13. This film had many flaws, but James Corden is the absolute worst thing about it. By comparison, the war blimp impaling itself on the spire of Notre Dame is downright charming. I wish they’d impaled James Corden instead. Preferably right at the beginning of the movie.
2. Remember back when Orlando Bloom was a thing? Weird, right? He’s kind of...fun as a villain, though. I think he might be one of those “character actor in a lead’s body” types. Also, he should never do anything but costume dramas, because the look suits him.
3. No matter the adaptation, Porthos is always the best Musketeer. I am not willing to debate this.
4. Is D’Atagnan SUPPOSED to be a complete void of charisma? Because that’s almost as universal as the Porthos thing. Is it because he is a literal child? Also, who was responsible for choosing that hairstyle for him? I demand a personal apology.
5. I wish Milla Jovovich’s husband would make better movies for her to be in.
6. It’s like they watched Guy Richie’s ‘Sherlock Holmes’ and said “Let’s do that!” but somehow got it just slightly wrong. Like they were trying for the same cheeky, winking, gritty tone, but it’s too well-lit and the sentiment is just shy of Hallmark level.
7. Fights are good, though.
8. So are the costumes.
9. This cast is WAY prettier than the 1993 version. Sorry Kiefer (and Kiefer’s mullet).
10. I like that the women have more to do in this one than just look scared. (Or, in Rebecca De Mornay’s case, vaguely constipated.)
11. I did not sign up to watch “Villains Special Effect Spectacular” here. Why are the Musketeers barely in this film?!
12. Speaking of, Christophe Waltz is doing his best, but when it comes to creepily smiling sex predator cardinal, no one will ever be able to take the crown from Tim Curry.
13. This film had many flaws, but James Corden is the absolute worst thing about it. By comparison, the war blimp impaling itself on the spire of Notre Dame is downright charming. I wish they’d impaled James Corden instead. Preferably right at the beginning of the movie.
Wednesday, October 9, 2019
CBR11 #5: The Darkness on the Edge of Town - You Might Forget The Sky Was Ever Blue by Michael Chin
First of all, I have to admit that this review is probably going to be a little biased because the author happens to be a friend of mine. I've known Mike for twenty-three years (Jesus, really?) since I was fourteen. We went to nerd camp together -- a total of nine weeks over the course of three years. We took writing classes together and wrote letters during the off-season (yes letters! On paper!) A character in his first published work was based on and named after me, a fact that still, nearly twenty years later, inordinately pleases me. I like the guy. Lucky for me, I also have always liked his work. From those early stories to his blog, of which I am a Constant Reader, he's always had a way with words and a unique view on the world. This book doesn't disappoint.
You Might Forget The Sky Was Ever Blue is a series of vaguely related short stories which mostly take place in a rotting town in upstate New York called Shermantown. It's one of those places which used to have a factory, but now it doesn't, and the people who stay there are still not sure how to move on. It's the kind of place where people in diners get interviewed about why they voted for Trump, and the words "economic insecurity" will probably come up, which is both accurate and not. I know this kind of place because I grew up in one. As the stories unfold, Shermantown becomes a character in them, creeping around the edges of nearly every story.
I think I'd probably say my favorite was the first piece in the book, called "Prophecy," which is the story of an elementary school teacher and his wife. It's hard to pin down what it's about, exactly. It's more a feeling of rising tension and the thought that something might happen. Many of the stories are like that--tension that builds uncomfortably. Some resolve. Some don't. The characters aren't all likable, and they don't necessarily make good decisions. Nearly all of them are sad in some way, and the characters who aren't sad are frankly a bit suspicious. There were some stories where I wished there could be more. There were one or two where I was very, very glad when they ended. There are thoughts about family, and friendships, though the families are off-kilter and the friendships (and relationships) seem to be rotting along with the town.
To be honest, this style of work is not really my jam. I prefer my fiction funny, full of monsters, or ideally both. These stories weren't dark, but they were a deceptively sharp knife which cut just a little too close to the bone for me. I was deeply impressed with the careful, deliberate way they were put together, but I'm not sure I'd say I "enjoyed" them. It's a bit like the way I feel about movies occasionally--there are some films that I watch, and can say "That movie was beautiful, deep, and moving...but I don't think I want to watch it again." I appreciate the craftsmanship that went into them, the way the descriptions were so clear, the characters so deftly defined with just a few words. I'm glad I read it and would encourage anyone else who has an interest in literary fiction to buy it (or demand your library buy it) because it's so worth reading.
You Might Forget The Sky Was Ever Blue is a series of vaguely related short stories which mostly take place in a rotting town in upstate New York called Shermantown. It's one of those places which used to have a factory, but now it doesn't, and the people who stay there are still not sure how to move on. It's the kind of place where people in diners get interviewed about why they voted for Trump, and the words "economic insecurity" will probably come up, which is both accurate and not. I know this kind of place because I grew up in one. As the stories unfold, Shermantown becomes a character in them, creeping around the edges of nearly every story.
I think I'd probably say my favorite was the first piece in the book, called "Prophecy," which is the story of an elementary school teacher and his wife. It's hard to pin down what it's about, exactly. It's more a feeling of rising tension and the thought that something might happen. Many of the stories are like that--tension that builds uncomfortably. Some resolve. Some don't. The characters aren't all likable, and they don't necessarily make good decisions. Nearly all of them are sad in some way, and the characters who aren't sad are frankly a bit suspicious. There were some stories where I wished there could be more. There were one or two where I was very, very glad when they ended. There are thoughts about family, and friendships, though the families are off-kilter and the friendships (and relationships) seem to be rotting along with the town.
To be honest, this style of work is not really my jam. I prefer my fiction funny, full of monsters, or ideally both. These stories weren't dark, but they were a deceptively sharp knife which cut just a little too close to the bone for me. I was deeply impressed with the careful, deliberate way they were put together, but I'm not sure I'd say I "enjoyed" them. It's a bit like the way I feel about movies occasionally--there are some films that I watch, and can say "That movie was beautiful, deep, and moving...but I don't think I want to watch it again." I appreciate the craftsmanship that went into them, the way the descriptions were so clear, the characters so deftly defined with just a few words. I'm glad I read it and would encourage anyone else who has an interest in literary fiction to buy it (or demand your library buy it) because it's so worth reading.
Monday, March 4, 2019
CBR11 #4:Pretending to Care - The Pretenders (Cemetery Girl #1) by Charlaine Harris and Christopher Golden
I wanted to like this, but...I just didn't. I don't know if it was too short, or whether it would have more appeal for a YA audience, but I was just kind of bored.
Calexa Rose finds herself dumped in a graveyard, with no memory of her identity, and only the knowledge that someone tried to kill her. She can also see ghosts. She makes herself at home in the cemetery, trying to hide out from whomever tried to kill her, while attempting to find out who she is. She steals some stuff. She develops uncomfortable friendships with some old people. She spends a lot of time running around, leaping over stuff, and wearing a veil. One night, she witnesses a crime. Then she has to decide what to do about what she saw. Can she manage to see that justice is done without exposing herself? The antagonist characters are extremely one-dimensional, as well as kind of stupid. Their motivations don't really make any sense. And while this is in theory a ghost story, there was only one ghost, and even she was boring. How does a cemetery only have ONE restless ghost? Maybe the format doesn't allow for much expansion, and I should have waited for an omnibus, rather than reading this book as a stand-alone, but it did nothing for me. The art was fine, but nothing stunning or particularly unusual. I really like both Charlaine Harris and Christopher Golden's other work, so this was a major disappointment.
Calexa Rose finds herself dumped in a graveyard, with no memory of her identity, and only the knowledge that someone tried to kill her. She can also see ghosts. She makes herself at home in the cemetery, trying to hide out from whomever tried to kill her, while attempting to find out who she is. She steals some stuff. She develops uncomfortable friendships with some old people. She spends a lot of time running around, leaping over stuff, and wearing a veil. One night, she witnesses a crime. Then she has to decide what to do about what she saw. Can she manage to see that justice is done without exposing herself? The antagonist characters are extremely one-dimensional, as well as kind of stupid. Their motivations don't really make any sense. And while this is in theory a ghost story, there was only one ghost, and even she was boring. How does a cemetery only have ONE restless ghost? Maybe the format doesn't allow for much expansion, and I should have waited for an omnibus, rather than reading this book as a stand-alone, but it did nothing for me. The art was fine, but nothing stunning or particularly unusual. I really like both Charlaine Harris and Christopher Golden's other work, so this was a major disappointment.
Wednesday, January 23, 2019
CBR11 #3 - Fat Girl Finishing School by Rachel Wiley
I need to preface this by saying I did really like Fat Girl Finishing School. Because I think my review is going to sound like I didn't, but that's not the case.
If I had found this book first, I'd probably be in love with it. Rachel Wiley's work is intense, personal, and her poems--specifically those about being a fat woman--strike a very strong chord with me. Unfortunately, I read Nothing is Okay first, which spoiled this a bit. In comparison, FGFS seems a bit unpolished. The poems are good, but seem to still be struggling with style. I didn't find them to be as strikingly specific. Some of them feel like very very good class assignments. They're great, but not not transcendent the way NIO is.
I'd recommend reading this, just because it does contain some real gems, and because I think it shows the clear progression and development that happened in between Fat Girl Finishing School and Nothing Is Okay.
If I had found this book first, I'd probably be in love with it. Rachel Wiley's work is intense, personal, and her poems--specifically those about being a fat woman--strike a very strong chord with me. Unfortunately, I read Nothing is Okay first, which spoiled this a bit. In comparison, FGFS seems a bit unpolished. The poems are good, but seem to still be struggling with style. I didn't find them to be as strikingly specific. Some of them feel like very very good class assignments. They're great, but not not transcendent the way NIO is.
I'd recommend reading this, just because it does contain some real gems, and because I think it shows the clear progression and development that happened in between Fat Girl Finishing School and Nothing Is Okay.
Friday, January 18, 2019
CBR11 #2 - YES. THIS. -- Nothing is Okay by Rachel Wiley
I have a confession to make: I am a monster. No, not the kind who stampedes through Tokyo (though #goals) or the kind that lurks outside your window at night. I am dog-earer. I know, a shiver ran up the spine of book lovers everywhere--I could feel you all cringing. I know, it's a bad habit. But when I read (poetry especially) I like to be able to mark the page where I found something really striking, so I can double back and find it later. When it comes to my books, a turned down corner means "HERE! THERE'S SOMETHING IMPORTANT HERE!"
I'm telling you this dirty secret of mine so that you'll understand what it means when I say that by the time I got through Nothing Is Okay, nearly every other page had a bent corner. Some were bent over twice because there was something valuable to me on both sides of a single page.
I discovered Rachel Wiley after someone posted a video of her performing her poem "Ten Honest Thoughts On Being Loved By A Skinny Boy," and I knew immediately that I had to have more.
These poems are personal and specific, but speak to the broader experience of existing as a woman in today's society. They are by turns hilarious and heart-wrenching, sometimes both at the same time. I laughed out loud at many examples of her dating travails (as a fellow Tinderer, the Rejection Letter poems were a delight) and also cried when faced with "Letter to My Cat," knowing (because I follow her IG like a weirdo) that Clementine passed away last year. Wiley's turn of phrase makes every poem shine, and the way she opens up her own emotional wounds for inspection makes this book feel very intimate. It's a bottle of wine with the funny, empathetic, strong bestie we all wish we had. My absolute favorites were the poems which touched on existing as a fat woman in today's society. "Fat Joke" was a stiletto straight to my heart, and I want to staple a copy to the forehead of...everyone, pretty much. I don't have the experiences to compare, but I imagine for those who identify as biracial and/or queer, there will be a lot of that same "YES. THIS. I KNOW THIS FEEL." with her poems which touch on those aspects of her life.
So to sum up: buy this book. Buy her other book, Fat Girl Finishing School (which I will be reviewing as soon as it arrives). Go see her perform if she's in your city. Tell your friends. You won't be disappointed.
I'm telling you this dirty secret of mine so that you'll understand what it means when I say that by the time I got through Nothing Is Okay, nearly every other page had a bent corner. Some were bent over twice because there was something valuable to me on both sides of a single page.
I discovered Rachel Wiley after someone posted a video of her performing her poem "Ten Honest Thoughts On Being Loved By A Skinny Boy," and I knew immediately that I had to have more.
These poems are personal and specific, but speak to the broader experience of existing as a woman in today's society. They are by turns hilarious and heart-wrenching, sometimes both at the same time. I laughed out loud at many examples of her dating travails (as a fellow Tinderer, the Rejection Letter poems were a delight) and also cried when faced with "Letter to My Cat," knowing (because I follow her IG like a weirdo) that Clementine passed away last year. Wiley's turn of phrase makes every poem shine, and the way she opens up her own emotional wounds for inspection makes this book feel very intimate. It's a bottle of wine with the funny, empathetic, strong bestie we all wish we had. My absolute favorites were the poems which touched on existing as a fat woman in today's society. "Fat Joke" was a stiletto straight to my heart, and I want to staple a copy to the forehead of...everyone, pretty much. I don't have the experiences to compare, but I imagine for those who identify as biracial and/or queer, there will be a lot of that same "YES. THIS. I KNOW THIS FEEL." with her poems which touch on those aspects of her life.
So to sum up: buy this book. Buy her other book, Fat Girl Finishing School (which I will be reviewing as soon as it arrives). Go see her perform if she's in your city. Tell your friends. You won't be disappointed.
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