Pops Saw Some Movies

 The past handful of weeks have been a trial, so I’m behind on yapping about some movies I’ve recently seen. Here’s a little bit of catch-up. 

THE APPRENTICE
Having read Mary Trump’s book, TOO MUCH AND NOT ENOUGH, I have to say, Ali Abassi goes too easy on the protagonists of this film. Roy Cohn is made to be pitiable, Fred Trump is not nearly demonic enough (in behavior or appearance), and Donald Trump (as played by Sebastian Stan, the Winter Soldier, which is kinda apt) is portrayed as a semi-naive waif being taught the dark arts by villainous groomers. Hell, he’s even given a fuzzy rom-com sequence in which he woos Ivana in scenes that wouldn’t be out of place in a Hallmark movie. There are enough glimpses into Trump’s “origin” as a serial liar to make the film interesting, but it’s not going to move the needle at all on this bizarre Idiocracy in which we now live. 

ALIEN: ROMULUS

After a promising first act (marred by some ginormous plot holes and a grating Gen-Z cast), Fede Alvarez’ film quickly breaks down into lazy retread and unearned fan service (a “Get away from her, you BITCH!” Is maybe the most pathetic example of pandering I’ve ever seen in a movie). ROMULUS is yet another genre sequel / reboot (ala HALLOWEEN, THE THING, APARTMENT 7A) that is overly reliant on the hope that the audience is unfamiliar with the source material. Then again, there hasn’t been a good ALIEN movie since the first two, so… 

JOKER: FOLIE A DEUX
I didn’t like the first pointless, nihilistic wankfest, and may have skipped this altogether were it not for its trainwreck status, which made me want to rubberneck. And while it’s not good (it feels more like an epilogue than a full movie), it’s certainly not worth the venom it’s garnered. While many decry the musical aspect of the movie, I have to wonder if that animus is more aimed towards the Great American Songbook selections sung by Phoenix and Gaga than the genre itself. And while the film’s climax ever so slightly redeems both films by (slight spoiler) confirming the theory that this “Joker” is not “THE Joker,” it still feels like a movie made more out of spite than inspiration. 

THE SUBSTANCE

I need to watch this again, because my take certainly does not align with that of many people whose opinions I respect. While I think the movie has a strong setup, some great performances, and a stunning visual style, for me the metaphor loses strength in the third act when I found myself asking too many questions to get lost in the batshit body horror of the thing (which felt more like an homage to Cronenberg & Raimi than its own thing). Also, add my name to the list of people who think the most disgusting thing in the film is the closeups of Dennis Quaid eating prawns. I’ll give Coralie Fargeat's feminist horror another shot… but probably not until after the holidays. 

WOMAN OF THE HOUR
The only one of these films I truly enjoyed, Anna Kendrick’s story of Rodney Alcala, the serial killer who appeared on THE DATING GAME in the 1970s is a riveting, brutal portrait of the many layers of misogyny that (still) permeate society, broadly ranging from casual sexism to murder, and everything in between. Kendrick humanizes the victims rather than just presenting them as plot points as do so many serial killer dramas. A dive into the real story reveals more than a handful of apocryphal moments, but that’s to be expected, and doesn’t diminish the power of Kendrick’s first film as a director.

Pops Saw a Movie: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE

 Maybe I shouldn’t write a review of DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE, as I am absolutely not the target audience. I don’t like anti-heroes (being good guys who use the tactics and tools of bad guys). Even a comic book geek like myself is suffering superhero fatigue (and I’m beyond tired of the kind of wink-wink, piss-taking superhero movies that seem to now be the norm). And perhaps most importantly, I absolutely detest the era of superhero comics from which this movie takes its inspiration, being the ultra-dark 1990s, an overblown, Image over substance, hyper-kinetic, trench-coated period that actually made me stop buying comics. Oh, also, not really a fan of Ryan Reynolds. 

However. 

So many of of my friends had asked me if I was going to see this, and for a hot second, I actually considered hitting the multiplex for D&W (despite only having seen the previous two DEADPOOL films on the tee-vee, and the fact that I’ve only seen one new movie in the theater in the past three years, being THE BATMAN, which, meh), but quickly decided I couldn’t deal with being stuck in a chair with this film for over two hours. Still, I was curious enough that when I saw it dropped on PLEX (the Napster of movies) this past week, I dove in. 

And I pretty much hated it. D&W fails for me on every level, comedically, as a superhero movie, and emotionally. 

Comedically: I actually had a notebook next to me so I could keep track of my actual laughs during the movie, and the final tally was Two: One came 33 minutes in, when we get to see Wolverine at his actual comic book height (he’s very short). The other hit a half hour later, when Dogpool won’t stop licking Deadpool’s face. That’s it. Two laughs. Maybe a few smirks throughout the rest of the film, but the relentless spray of snark and meta jokes and fourth wall breaks and, mostly, about a hundred dick, balls, and ass jokes (seriously, this movie is so obsessed with goodies, bits, and butts that it makes Joel Schumacher’s Batman movies look like conversion therapy videos) just felt like I was being pelted with urine-soaked spitballs for 128 minutes. 

Dramatically: I mean, “dramatically” in superhero context. So, after Disney+’s LOKI series spent two seasons working to fix the MCU’s multiverse timelines, bringing its lead character from villain to sacrificial hero, with a dramatic, emotional climax, this movie… is about fixing the MCU’s multiverse timelines, right down to the bit about the heroes wanting to save their loved ones in their own branched realities (where was the meta joke about this plot basically being the same as that show’s?). I’m not sure what’s more aggravating, the ongoing convolution of the Marvel Universe, or the attempts to fix it (didn’t Kevin Feige ever hear of CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS? Google it, non-nerds). And, as much as I disliked LOGAN (and I did!), I have to agree with that film’s director and writer that DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE pretty much renders any emotional impact of that movie’s climax moot. And speaking of death meaning nothing in the MCU, what’s the point of endless (ENDLESS!!) CGI fights to the death with characters who can’t die? 

I didn’t even get any nostalgic jollies out of this film because (as I so subtly alluded to up there), I have almost zero affinity for (and, in some cases, knowledge of) most of these characters. I liked the X-Men in the ‘80s as much as anyone, but Wolverine was never really my jam. And he’s probably my favorite character in the film! I never read a Deadpool comic, never read a single thing with Gambit in it (what a stupid character), don’t really care about Blade, Elektra was a great part of Frank Miller’s DAREDEVIL run, but she shoulda’ stayed dead, and most of the other cameos just didn’t land with me. As always, your mileage may vary. 

Emotionally: I was actually stunned at how much syrup was poured on the climax of the film. I kept thinking that all the gushing buddy film love slung between the titular heroes was going to revert to the antagonistic back and forth that defined the first two acts of the movie, but no! These dudes now love each other, and pretty much tell say so for the last twenty minutes of the film! The movie even ends with a nostalgic, credit-roll montage of the actors’ histories making Marvel movies for 20th Century Fox, set to—I shit you not— Green Day’s never-not-grating, and utterly played out “Good Riddance [Time of Your Life]”…. UNIRONICALLY!!! 

Phew. Anyway. So, yeah, the movie’s not for me. But even putting aside my subjective dislike of the source material and this particular kind of superhero movie, I don’t think DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE is a good movie. It’s a LOT of movie, however, and, like the overdrawn, needlessly-detailed, hyper-violent comic books of the 1990s that dazzled young fans with style over substance, I guess that’s enough for a lot of people.

Pops Watched TV and Saw a Movie: DAHMER and BLONDE

 I couldn’t binge DAHMER: MONSTER: THE JEFFREY DAHMER STORY (or whatever) because it was just too much to stomach (no pun intended) more than an hour at a time, so it took me over a week to finish. I wasn’t even going to say anything about it until I watched BLONDE last night and decided to contrast these very different dramatizations of real life tragic figures. 

DAHMER is undeniably a riveting watch, but the many protestations over its humanization of the serial killer are not without merit. Evan Peters is way too likeable an actor to not make you feel some sort of empathy for Dahmer as her struggles with his compulsions. As with every “Based on a True Story” film or TV show, I spend a lot of time wondering what’s real and what’s not. I don’t demand 100% adherence to the facts, I understand the demands of creating dramatic fiction, and these days, all it takes is some quick Googling to separate the apocryphal from the factual. DAHMER mostly sticks to the facts, the biggest creative license being merging a number of the killer’s neighbors into one person, and moving her into the apartment next door. But what fascinates me most about this series isn’t the show itself but our collective fascination with true crime. What is it that draws us into being willing to watch ten hours dedicated to the most horrific, gruesome human behavior we can imagine? Why do we love this shit? I’d watch a ten-part series parsing that sociological phenomenon. 

Meanwhile, on the same platform, BLONDE is being marketed as a simple biopic of Marilyn Monroe, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Instead based on Joyce Carol Oates’ 2000 novel, it’s a fictionalized, highly impressionistic overview of the icon’s mental instability and lifetime of various forms of abuse, presented with far more style than substance. The movie jumps from point to point, leaving exposition as to how Norma Jeane / Marilyn came to be involved with the various men in her life mostly cursory. The movie seems to be far more concerned with recreating iconic images of Monroe than fleshing out a tragic life beyond “unhappy childhood - bad relationships - extreme insecurity - oh, and pills and booze.” But unlike DAHMER, BLONDE feels zero compunction about creating some stories out of whole cloth (which will no doubt lead to even more public confusion among those who treat films like this as gospel). The one saving grace of the movie is Ana de Armas’ magnetic performance (although the decision to have her employ “Marilyn’s” breathy girly voice even in her private life is an odd one). Ironically, the timing of this film kind of works against it, as de Armas is currently Hollywood’s “It Girl,” making it hard to forget that it’s her under the wig and veneers. Ultimately, though, 2011’s MY WEEK WITH MARILYN (starring Michelle Williams) is a far more insightful and personal examination of the actual human being.

Originally posted on social media, Oct. 3, 2022.

Pops Saw a Movie: APARTMENT 7A

 Seemingly coming out of nowhere (I hadn’t even heard of it until the day before it dropped on Paramount+), APARTMENT 7A is a prequel to ROSEMARY’S BABY, focusing on the story of the doomed girl Rosemary Woodhouse met in the laundry room in Roman Polanski’s 1968 classic. If you don’t know that film, then (in this context) good for you, because (a) you will enjoy the prequel a lot more than I did, and (b) you get to then watch ROSEMARY’S BABY for the first time! 

It’s not that APARTMENT 7A is BAD; It’s not. It’s well-made, well-cast, with some stunning visuals, a great soundtrack, and a compelling story. I enjoyed it while I was watching it. It’s just that by the end of the film, it offered nothing new. For anyone who knows the original movie, the fate of Terry Gionoffrio is a fait accompli. We know how this movie ends. But the film (co-written by director Natalie Erika James) unfathomably decides to basically retell ROSEMARY’S BABY with a different lead character, leaving us nothing new to chew on and making it impossible to not compare the two films. 

There was an opportunity here to tell a different story; They could’ve focused more on (SPOILER ALERT) Terry’s manipulating benefactors, Minnie and Roman Castevet and the satanic coven they lead in their fancy uptown apartment building (played by NYC’s iconic Dakota), maybe giving us a little more insight into their history and their motivations. They could’ve maybe fleshed out some other members of the coven. Or maybe they could’ve made Terry something other than an aspiring dancer (a little too close to Guy being a struggling actor in the original), or given her a more conflicted personality to ramp up the tension (she feels an awful lot like a single Rosemary in the film). 

But APARTMENT 7A has that unfortunate and cynical tang of a movie made for a young audience that the filmmakers hope / presume are completely unfamiliar with the source material, making it acceptable to so closely echo the original. I don’t think those of us who already love ROSEMARY’S BABY are the target audience. 

The acting (at least by the leads) is great. The always-terrific Julia Garner plays Terry with a compelling mixture of naïveté and strength (I think she’s one of the best actors working today). But I’m sure casting the charming and generous, but also overbearing and, you know, evil Castevets (or, the re-Castevets, heh) was the hardest part of making this movie, as both performances in the original are indelible. As Roman, Kevin McNally channels Sidney Blackmer nicely. But Dianne Wiest as Minnie had the tougher gig; Ruth Gordon’s performance in ROSEMARY’S BABY is iconic: Broad and over-the-top (with Gordon’s exaggerated vocalizations) while still being believable. Wiest HAS to do at least somewhat of an impression, or the audience (at least the audience that saw the original) wouldn’t buy that this is Minnie, but she makes the part just enough her own that it doesn’t feel like she’s doing shtick. 

So, I don’t know if this is a recommendation or not. Again, if you DON’T know ROSEMARY’S BABY, first of all, what the hell’s wrong with you, but you’ll probably be more frightened and surprised than my girlfriend and I were. However, it’ll take a lot of the fun out of watching the 1968 film for the first time. And if you DO love Roman Polanski’s (yeah, yeah) film, your enjoyment will largely depend on how much you don’t mind NOT being surprised.

Pops Saw a Movie and Watched TV: FANTASIA and BATMAN: CAPED CRUSADER

 Here’s a two-part review wherein the only unifying subject matter is animation… and disappointment. 

For some reason, last night I watched Disney’s FANTASIA for the first time in many decades. The 1940 film animates stories to match eight segments of classical music, conducted by Leopold Stokowski (but played in the film by composer Deems Taylor) and performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra. My memory of the movie was that is was okay, but it didn’t move me on a deep level. Maybe I was too young, I thought, so I went back last night with a somewhat firmer appreciation of the music used in the movie. 

And I had the same reaction: It’s okay. Honestly, I think my antipathy for Disney is so deeply ingrained that I’m incapable of loving anything that features Mickey Mouse, even in a cameo. But the rest of the segments are just semi-successful to me as well. They mostly have that flat, reined-in feel and/or overabundance of cutesiness that defines Disney animation for me (I confess I fast forwarded past the "Dance of the Hours" ballet. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.). Only Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” (depicting the early history of Earth through the demise of the dinosaurs [erroneously credited to a global warming dustbowl, as the theory of the comet had yet to be discovered]) and Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain” (featuring the demon Chernabog summoning evil spirits from the grave) held my interest. 

(Also I should note that Disney+ adds a disclaimer about the offensive racial imagery in the movie, but the version I saw still edits out all of the shots of Sunflower, the stereotyped black “centaurette”, so… maybe they meant the Chinese dancing mushrooms?)

My own personal prejudice aside, FANTASIA, despite its lofty aspirations, still mostly feels… to me, anyway… uninspired. 

Which, ironically, is how I also—surprisingly—feel about Prime Video’s new series, BATMAN: CAPED CRUSADER. When it was announced some years back that Bruce Timm (the creative genius behind the iconic BATMAN THE ANIMATED SERIES and BATMAN BEYOND) was to helm a new cartoon featuring the Darknight Detective, fanboys collectively wept an ocean of joy-tears. There was no way this could be anything but a new classic (much as I loathe that oxymoronic term). News that the show would be a retro throwback to Batman’s Golden Age caused some raised eyebrows, but few people didn’t think Timm and company could pull it off. 

Well… again… it’s okay. But just okay. It took me a solid month to get through the short ten episode season, which speaks volumes as to my gut reaction to the first few viewings. Glacially paced, with a drab sepia-toned palette, the rather blocky animation lacks the dynamism of the previous efforts from Timm’s teams. Story-wise, familiar characters are revamped (the Penguin is gender-swapped, Commissioner and Babs Gordon are black, Harvey Dent is a jerk, Harley Quinn is not Harley Quinn, it’s all over the place), but it mostly feels like change for its own sake; very few of the alterations feel inspired by story so much as a desire on the part of the producers to not be bored by treading familiar ground (which also explains the absence of some iconic villains… the Joker doesn’t appear until a teaser at the very end of the last episode). 

I dunno. I think perhaps the retro setting was a bad idea. Where do you go? Hardcore Batman fans know the history, so there are expectations… that the producers will no doubt try to subvert again, with probably the same middling results. I think it could’ve been far more exciting if they had simply continued Batman’s adventures in present day, utilizing some of the members of the comic book cast that have been introduced or developed since the last series ended in 1995 (and I don’t necessarily mean picking up where that series left off, they could’ve started fresh). Batman is perhaps the most endlessly-adaptable superhero in the history of the genre, he works in all gradients from silly to super-serious. So it’s disappointing that this latest iteration is so… (see above).

Pops Watched TV: LIGHT & MAGIC

 While I’m normally (and naturally) skeptical of documentaries that have corporate ties to their subject matter, I nonetheless watched LIGHT & MAGIC, the six-part docuseries on Disney+ about ILM, and find myself—somewhat surprisingly—giving it a solid recommendation. 

I often bemoan the death of “movie magic,” just referring to the cynical lack of wonder and awe over how special effects are made anymore, with the catch-all of “it’s all digital” being the answer to every “how did they do that?” But while the most inspiring parts of LIGHT & MAGIC are certainly seeing the ragtag physical effects artists of the 1970s figuring out how to do everything that George Lucas demanded of them for STAR WARS (indeed, Lucas comes across as rather dense here, less a brilliant visionary than a stubborn dreamer who, when told, “We can’t do that,” just said, “You’ll figure it out,” and was lucky that they DID), and there’s a really depressing section on some of those guys finding themselves feeling “extinct” when JURASSIC PARK rendered them obsolete, there’s a surprising turnaround at the end (spoiler alert) wherein some brand new techniques (“the Volume”… look it up) have reintegrated traditional filmmaking into the modern era in a way that many would previously have thought was done. 

For those of us who grew up witnessing the transition from practical to digital effects and ever gave a crap about how any of it was done, or if you just like seeing smart geeks doing creative stuff, check this series out. Hell, it even made me go back and re-watch all of the STAR WARS films.

Originally posted on social media, Aug. 19, 2022

Pops Saw a Movie: BRATS

 Actor Andrew McCarthy’s new documentary, BRATS (streaming on Hulu) spends the first fifteen minutes showing the actor merely trying to set up this film, which gives an indication of just how thin, self-indulgent, and meandering a project we’re about to endure.

McCarthy’s premise is that his career—nay, his entire life—has been negatively impacted by a 1985 article in New York Magazine by David Blum entitled, “Hollywood’s Brat Pack,” a tag the actor feels prevented him from being taken seriously by the film industry forever afterwards (never mind the fact that McCarthy is barely mentioned in the piece). Insisting that he’s “never discussed” how it felt to be part of that fraternity (a claim I find hard to believe, particularly as this movie is based on a memoir he published in 2021), McCarthy sets out to reunite with his Brat Pack brethren and discuss the term and its impact on their lives. it’s a pretty flimsy basis for a documentary, and what follows is an abject lesson in hubris, self-delusion, and petty self-pity.

From the get-go, McCarthy comes across as, well, a whiny BRAT, blaming his relative lack of success (at least the kind he desired) on everyone but himself. The fact that he gets almost no support for his thesis from the people who actually agreed to talk to him doesn’t seem to crack the facade, even if he waffles—depending upon to whom he’s talking—between hating the idea of the Brat Pack and agreeing that it was something wonderful and important of which he was lucky to be a part. The whiplash-inducing wishy-washiness would snap Charlie Brown’s neck.

While Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson wisely refused to participate, McCarthy does talk to a handful of actors who came of age with him in an era where (according to a number of interviewees) for the first time, movies were made ABOUT young people FOR young people (I guess they never heard of James Dean or the surf films of the ‘60s, and while yes, those were more about teenagers than twenty-somethings, remember the Brat Pack made a bunch of teen films as well). Emilio Estevez seems so uncomfortable having the conversation that he can’t even bring himself to move from the kitchen island and sit down. Ally Sheedy just thinks it was neat to have friends. Demi Moore seems like she never gave it much thought (she was only in one of those films, and was already a recovering alcoholic at the time). And Rob Lowe (arguably the most successful of the Brat Pack) laughs off any negative connotations to the tag, healthfully suggesting that perhaps McCarthy put things in perspective, embrace being a part of something people still remember after thirty years, and move the fuck on with his life.

Other actors who were Brat Pack-adjacent such as Lea Thompson, Timothy Hutton, and Jon Cryer (who shocks McCarthy by suggesting that Blane was not the hero of PRETTY IN PINK, which kind of shows the delusion at work in the protagonist’s psyche) try to humor their old pal Andrew, but not a one of them agrees that their lives and careers were seriously impacted by Blum’s article.

And when McCarthy talks to non-actors about the Brat Pack, they have even less time for his suppositions. Directors, producers, and writers mostly think it was a good thing because it kept the actors in the public eye and made them bankable, not to mention becoming a zeitgeist that helped to define an entire era, something most actors would kill to be able to say. Writers Susannah Gora and Ira Madison III are such fans of the era and its films that it almost feels like they think they’re in a documentary about how awesome John Hughes movies were (side note: The legacy of John Hughes is a topic I’ve looooong been meaning to tackle, maybe someday soon. Spoiler Alert: It’s not good).

Author Malcolm Gladwell, who seems more than a little bemused, tries to put the entire youth culture of the early ‘80s into a sociological context and discusses the etymology of the tag McCarthy so despises, offering, “It’s also funny, the rat pack and the brat pack in sensibility are polar opposites; One is anxious and immature and trying really, really, really hard to figure out their place in the world and the other group doesn’t give a fuck,” to which McCarthy defensively responds, “WE didn’t find it funny.”

Which is part of the problem: Andrew McCarthy doesn’t seem to find ANYTHING funny, his hyper-seriousness throughout the film displays not just a lack of perspective, but a complete dearth of a sense of humor. McCarthy goes so far as to repeatedly ask, “Where were you the first time you heard the term, ‘Brat Pack?’” as if it were a cultural moment as traumatic and consequential as the Kennedy assassination (for the record, nobody remembered).

The dramatic climax of the movie is a confrontation with the man who coined the term in the first place, journalist David Blum. Sadly, Blum comes off as narcissistic and delusional as McCarthy, insisting that what he wrote was not just fine, objective reporting, but was an act of youthful rebellion as important and era-defining as the Brat Pack itself. The two alternately spar and express affection for each other, contradicting themselves constantly trying to justify their respective takes on the article and its legacy. It’s ultimately a pointless conversation, much like the rest of the movie. Hell, the movie even ends with a phone call from Judd Nelson that allows McCarthy to finish with a tonally-bizarre and pandering clip of Bender’s climactic fist pump from THE BREAKFAST CLUB.

Ultimately, BRATS is… well, it’s sad. For McCarthy, anyway. You get the feeling that, despite claiming to have gained perspective and peace with this albatross he’s been wearing around his neck for four decades, he exits the film as desperate for the recognition he felt was so cruelly denied him as he was at the beginning (even comparing his experience to Al Pacino’s lifelong reluctance to be defined by THE GODFATHER). But not for one second of the film does Andrew McCarthy entertain the notion that maybe, just maybe he was held back by a lack of… talent? Or charisma? Perhaps both? Maybe?

But aside from being sad, this movie is also pretty fucking infuriating. Poor, poor Andrew McCarthy! Weep for the actor who’s been working pretty much constantly since he entered show business over four decades ago! Pity him!! For he has received neither the career trajectory nor the accolades he feels he deserved! Love him!!! As he is surely the victim of a cruel and heartless industry that, um, paid him more money than any of us will make in a lifetime and made him famous and allowed him the freedom to make this kind of absolutely repugnant narcissistic waste of 92 minutes that I could've spent wallowing in my OWN feelings of inadequacy and regret! 

Also, Blane was NOT the hero of PRETTY IN PINK. He was a major appliance.

Pops Saw a Movie: CIVIL WAR

Alex Garland’s CIVIL WAR could have been a powerful film. It could’ve been a chilling indictment of blind allegiance to an autocratic President. It could’ve talked about the ever-increasing divide that threatens to rip this country apart. It could’ve been a smart satire about the kind of apathy and ignorance that allow great democracies to crumble. Alas, CIVIL WAR is none of that. It’s actually little more than a rote action film with cardboard-thin characters, almost no plot to speak of, and worst of all, way too many unanswered questions. 

I was actually stunned at how flat this film is (and warning, there are spoilers coming, so stop now if you want to see it and make up your own mind). Garland’s at least tinkered with inscrutability before, and it’s obvious that his priority as a filmmaker is crafting memorable imagery over a cohesive narrative, but this movie isn’t exactly science fiction… it’s more speculative horror, and I wanted… no, I NEEDED it to tell me more. 

The gist is, America (this one) is in the midst of a Civil War incurred by a dangerous President who’s lurched into a despotic rule (he’s in his third term), in which there are numerous factions, the major ones being the Loyalist States (comprising the entire northeast and stretching across the Midwest all the way to Nevada) and the Western Forces, being a teaming of Texas and California. No, for real. We are supposed to believe that CALIFUCKINGORNIA and TEEEYAHHHXAS team up to battle the evil autocratic government. Never has a creative decision made for purely commercial reasons (being, of course, not wanting to alienate potential Red or Blue viewers) had a more detrimental impact on a screenplay, as not for one second can anyone possibly believe this unlikely team-up.

But even if I could accept the WF as it is in the film, it’s just one of way too many unexplained things. Exactly what else did President Nick Offerman (the character isn’t named) do besides give himself a third term? What’s happening in the rest of the country? Why are there zero cars on the highway besides the press vehicles (is this a Hanna-Barbera cartoon?)? Why is New York okay with all of this? How has this impacted culture? And who designed the WF’s logo? 

Nothing in the film is earned. Thinly-developed characters don’t evolve, they just suddenly change. Hardened, grizzled journalists (played by Kirsten Dunst and Wagner Moura) and one wide-eyed wannabe photographer (Cailee Spaeny) just suddenly swap behaviors in the third act seemingly based on one traumatic event, leading to a climax that’s utterly predictable and carries no weight. 

Then again, nothing in this film carries weight. It teases depth, but never delivers. It’s like Garland had the idea to make a movie about America in the midst of a new Civil War, but wrote the screenplay without doing any hard work to make it feel believable. Unless the message of the film is simply, “Images are important,” CIVIL WAR fails to live up to its vast, urgent, and important potential.

Pops Saw a Movie: MADAME WEB

 When I saw that MADAME WEB had dropped on Netflix, I got way too excited. As much as I dislike rubberneckers, I just had to experience this train wreck of a film for myself. I say this as a superhero nerd who—like all of you—is suffering superhero movie fatigue. But this is the first time that THE MOVIE ITSELF exhibits symptoms of said malady, to the point of almost completely excising superheroics in favor of a lot of scenes of running away from things.

MADAME WEB is one of Sony’s flailing attempts to milk their rights to the Spider-Man universe (following two Venom films and MORBIUS, along with the upcoming KRAVEN THE HUNTER), loosely basing this film on a handful of Marvel Comics characters, including the titular Cassandra Webb. In the comics, Madame Web is an old lady, but of course, the movie has to make her an attractive young woman (played by Dakota Johnson). Stir in three different teenage girls who will one day become their own distinct Spider-Woman (all before Peter Parker becomes Spider-Man, apparently), an obscure Spidey villain, and a young Uncle Ben as a paramedic, and you’ve got box office gold! Er, lead.

What little plot exists here (after much reported rewriting) is serviceable, I guess, but the whole endeavor is so rote, so weighed down with movie clichés (the overly art-directed journal, the pristine, un-gooey newborn baby, distracting product placement, the sassy black girl who’s flippant in the face of danger, to name a few), shitty CGI, and cardboard performances that absolutely nothing sticks. That’s a spider metaphor, and about as clever as anything in the movie.

If MADAME WEB can have any kind of legacy, perhaps it’s that no movie has ever better laid bare the fact that filmmaking is, to the bulk of its participants both in front of and behind the camera, just a job. Not every actor gives a shit about the story or has any connection to the character (Dakota Johnson notoriously couldn’t name one recent SPIDER-MAN movie, and may have thought her film was part of the “actual” MCU). And that’s fine. Nobody’s pretending that MADAME WEB is art. But it fails even as product (despite the constant presence of Pepsi imagery).

MADAME WEB is just lazy. It’s another movie with no opening credits (the title drops in the midst of a “Marvel” production logo that includes not one recognizable character, and even a full card at the end flashes for a half a second, as if the film is embarrassed by itself), that drops pop culture references (shitty ones at that) to wake the audience up and remind them that this is a period piece (it’s set in 2003, despite a ton of anachronisms), that tries to be clever by slightly altering familiar tag lines (“When you take on the responsibility, great power will come” … no, seriously), that reuses visual gags such as broken windows that splinter like spider webs so Dakota Johnson can pose behind them.

It’s kind of amazing to me to think that there was a time not so long ago that as a card-carrying fanboy, I felt obligated to not just see, but OWN every superhero movie that was produced, even ones I didn’t like (eg, BATMAN & ROBIN and DAREDEVIL). I think I realized that endeavor was not only pointless, but unsustainable by the time Andrew Garfield’s THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN came out in 2012. But I never dreamed that the day would come where there’d be SO MUCH OF THIS STUFF that not only would I not want to see all of it, but I’d wish it would stop. Or at the very least, stop being squirted out with all the creative care of a chicken McNugget.

Pops Saw a Movie: UNFROSTED

I’m not sure why I was trepidatious about Jerry Seinfeld’s UNFROSTED (and no, it had nothing to with the Seinfeld Backlash), perhaps simply because I’ve been burned by so much modern comedy; Most of it just doesn’t work for me. But I gotta say, I loved it. This (mostly) apocryphal tale of the race between Kellogg’s and Post to get a shelf stable breakfast pastry to the public is a broad satire of mid-century pop and corporate culture that hits way more than it misses. For me, anyway. 

Going into the film, it’s important to remember that supermarket shelves were very different in 1963. There weren’t a hundred kinds of Oreos, powdered “Kraft Dinner” was the only Mac & cheese anyone knew, there were two or three varieties, tops, of any specific snack item (Fritos came in one flavor: Fritos). High-fructose corn syrup had yet to find its way into every single food product (there’s a joke about that in the film, too). Adult foods did not often come in dayglo colors or dipped in chocolate. There was no candy-flavored vodka or beer. For the most part, kid stuff was kid stuff, and it had its time and place. And that made it special. 

UNFROSTED only really works if you’re someone who came of age when Saturday Morning Culture was still a thing (if you don’t know what I mean by that, then it’s not you). The movie is overflowing with mid-century pop and political characters and references, but not in a lazy, non-sequitur kind of way that dominates so much comedy today. Still, if you don’t get why Walter Cronkite being wowed by Silly Putty or the notion of Tom Carvel being ridiculed for being his own spokesperson is amusing, then yeah… you’re not going to dig ‘em… er, it (that’s another old cereal reference). If you ARE old enough to get it, you’re gonna wanna pause some scenes with the plethora of food mascots to try to see how many you can name (that blue giraffe was on the box of Kellogg’s TRIPLE SNACK, a short-lived breakfast cereal with PEANUTS!). 

But the movie is more than just 1960s references. The actors (so many, but not as distracting as OPPENHEIMER’s all-star cameos, because, you know… it’s a ridiculous comedy) all seem to be having a great time. Hugh Grant is terrific as a supercilious Thurl Ravenscroft (a very real person best known as the voice of Tony the Tiger and the singer of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch"), a disgruntled mascot who rallies other food mascots to storm Kellogg’s in protest of the new product (a direct January 6 riff, unusual for Seinfeld’s usually apolitical style, and perhaps a bit too much of an anachronistic turn). Christian Slater as a milk mafioso, Melissa McCarthy as the scientist tasked with creating the fruit filling formula, Jim Gaffigan as the head of Kellogg’s, and even James Marsden playing Jack Lallane are all hilarious. Hell, I even liked Amy Schumer as the president of Kellogg’s rival, Post, and I’ve NEVER been able to say that about any other performance of hers. And (spoiler alert), Jon Hamm and John Slattery’s MAD MEN reunion scene is a pitch-perfect (sorry) cameo that adds rather than distracts.

The only real beef I have with UNFROSTED is, in a movie with otherwise stellar art direction, a scene depicting failed Kellogg’s products has some really bad fake packaging. I don’t understand how this can be a thing in 2024, but it pulled me out of the carefully-constructed world for an aggravating minute. 

Again, and as always, your mileage may vary. Comedy is perhaps the most subjective film genre, and I totally get why this thing fell flat for most people under the age of, say, 40. But if you’re someone who remembers when breakfast cereals had actual prizes inside, give UNFROSTED a shot.

Pops (Re-)Read a Book: HEY KIDS, COMICS!

 There was a period in my life when comic books weren't that important (two, if you count birth to age 5)... in the mid-90s, I had just moved to Hoboken and started working for Warner Bros. Records, I was newly-single and ready to mingle, and, frankly, mainstream comics sucked at the time.

That waning of my geekiness didn't last too long, and over the years, the medium that defined me more than any other has returned to prominence as a source of comfort, diversion, and inspiration. But it's the comics I grew up with, not modern iterations that hit the spot.

Rob Kelly's HEY KIDS, COMICS! (a re-read) is an anthology of essays about the impact of comic books, mostly from the age when they were plucked off of drug store spinner ranks. It's an often bittersweet collection that anyone who's ever dismissed comic books and superheroes should be forced to read. Maybe they'd stop being judgmental pseudo-intellectuals and understand the transformative and cathartic power of a cheap, disposable periodical full of ridiculous stories populated by impossible characters (particularly to people for whom real life had its share of challenges).

To millions of people.... this stuff matters.

Originally posted on social media, Aug. 29, 2021

Pops Watched TV: Three Netflix Stand-Up Specials

 I took some time at the drawing board yesterday to catch up on a few Netflix stand-up specials, with predictably mixed results. 

Patton Oswalt's WE ALL SCREAM is another example of how this once-mighty comic voice has fallen into a predictable rut of tiresome self-depreciation and almost rote absurdist similes. A really sad bit of crowd work (in a big theater? No, Patton) just feels like a forced attempt to stay true to his roots, but when one of your bits is about a case of mistaken identity with your groundskeeper, you're really not a man of the people anymore. There are a few good bits, but at this point, it feels like the guy should just stick to voiceovers (even though I find those distractingly annoying as well). 

Iliza Shlesinger's HOT FOREVER is another frustrating example of how this smart and fearless comic simply refuses to step out of her comfort zone of "elder millennial" talking about dumb dating and relationship shit. When she started discussing mating rituals like she was still in college (describing guys' disgusting bedrooms with no bedding other than a crusty sleeping bag on the bed), I gave up and tuned out. I have to assume that the last half of the show was about her recent motherhood, a topic I never need to hear a comedian discuss again. It's a shame because I really like her, but I just can't do the "men are like this / women are like this" stuff anymore. 

Finally, Nick Kroll's LITTLE BIG BOY is hands down the best of the three. While mining some of the same self-deprecating ground as Patton (they both even discuss bouts with diarrhea, if that's your bag), Kroll's work feels more organic and less self-serving than Oswalt's. A bit about everyone being annoyed by their mother is the kind of stinging but hilarious insight that Patton's lacked for many years. I highly recommend at least checking out this bit (it comes in around the 40 minute mark). 

Take these reviews with even more of my "it's all subjective" caveat than normal, as I really can't abide 99% of what passes for comedy. But here ya go.

Originally posted on social media, Oct. 22, 2022

Pops Watched TV: POKER FACE "Rest in Metal"

 First of all, I really like POKER FACE (streaming on Peacock). It’s a fun throwback to 1970s detective shows (right down to the credits which directly homage COLUMBO), and Natasha Lyonne is delightful as Charlie Cale, a woman on the run who can tell when anyone’s lying. You have to suspend disbelief that she happens to stumble upon a murder everywhere she goes, but hey, that’s the show. I can go with it. 

However, episode 4, “Rest in Metal” pushed it a bit too far for me. Chloë Sevigny plays the singer of a washed up heavy metal band who had one giant hit decades ago, but still hits the road every year, playing dive bars and desperate to regain wealth and fame. When their Craigslist-found touring drummer writes a song that they KNOW will put them back on top, they orchestrate an onstage “accident” for him so they can steal “Sucker Punch,” and quickly become a viral sensation (until Charlie, working as their merch girl, figures everything out). 

What makes the episode a fail is that it’s yet another TV show that gets rock and roll wrong. First of all, Doxxxology doesn’t seem like a metal band to me… and “Sucker Punch” is absolutely not metal, it’s a pop tune, which, given its provenance—no spoilers if you haven’t seen it, it’s the episode’s best moment—makes sense, but why make them a metal band? Why not just a rock band? But what’s even tougher to swallow is that within days of performing their stolen song at a dive bar, Doxxxology is being lavished with caviar, champagne, and lucrative contracts by stereotypical record label folks… it’s the fastest music industry rise since Bud Eagle (and cheers to you if you get that reference without Googling it). Again, it could’ve worked without playing into music industry tropes that are about as dated as Doxxxology (what record label is champing at the bit to sign a rock band comprised of 40-something metalheads?!?). It’s just too over the top to feel even remotely believable. 

Anyway. Not every episode is great, but it’s always fun.

Originally posted on social media, Feb. 26, 2023

Pops Saw a Movie: TAR

I’ve now watched Todd Field’s TAR twice (and one particular scene three times) and not just because I was an hour into my first viewing before I realized it wasn’t a biopic (I can be rather dense sometimes)… This movie demands more than one watch because it’s so confounding in its invitation to interpret (much like music itself)… is it a condemnation of Lydia Tár that ends with a deserved comeuppance? Is it about the gray areas in which genius, talent, and destructive narcissism so often co-exist? Is it about the redemptive power of art? Or is it all of the above? 

Cate Blanchett (of whom I was already a huge fan) really is absolutely mesmerizing in the role (even if there are a few scenes in which she veers into Master Thespianic ”ACTING!!!” territory), and while my loathing of the entertainment awards is well documented, I do hope she gets all the shiny statues because I can’t recall the last time a performance unnerved me like this. 

If nothing else, TAR is a film that not only begs for debate about its content and meaning, but forces the viewer to contemplate just how much the art and the artist can be separated for each of us, a highly subjective, eternal conversation that only becomes more and more divisive as our culture evolves… or de-evolves. You choose. 

Originally posted on social media, March 1, 2023

Pops Watched TV: SHRINKiNG

 I decided to check out Apple TV+’s SHRINKiNG (Jason Segel plays a psychiatrist mourning his dead wife and struggling with professional burnout and an angry daughter) for one reason: To watch Harrison Ford do comedy. But two episodes in, I found myself cringing on the couch with each chirpy quip / obviously improvised cutesy non-sequitur / ham-fisted tear jerking moment, making me look up the show and discover it’s “from the people who brought you TED LASSO.” 

I’ve never watched TED LASSO because every single thing I’ve read about it just screamed, “NOT FOR YOU, KALLI! NOT. FOR. YOU.” I texted the people’s friend, Matt Caputo and asked him, “Hey, is SHRINKiNG like TED LASSO?,” to which he replied in the affirmative, confirming my aversion. 

SHRINKiNG is alternately cloyingly sweet and maudlin, populated with the kind of characters that people in Hollywood think are “real” and relatable, but are as clichéd and predictable as anything in a Marvel movie (there’s the mincing gay best friend and the smart-ass young black co-worker and the crusty but lovable old mentor and the angry teenage daughter and the nosy neighbor and probably more I’ve tried to forget!). I lasted four episodes before I once again wished that streaming services offered a “delete from your ’Keep Watching’ queue” option. 

Sorry, Harrison Ford. I hope you got a nice paycheck for this drek.

Originally posted on social media, March 2, 2023

Pops Read a Book: TRUE BELIEVER

 There’s no more polarizing figure in the history of comics than Stan Lee. Many comics fans consider him a bloviating huckster who stole credit and kept creators from reaping the rewards he enjoyed. Others buy into the legend of him being the creative mastermind behind the Marvel Universe.

Me, I fall in the middle. Certainly, Stan’s greatest creation was “Stan Lee,” but I think it’s unfair to diminish his role in the Marvel firmament. Stan & Jack Kirby were the Lennon & McCartney of comics; Their best work was done “together” (however that played out).

But what’s not arguable is that—MCU cameos notwithstanding—the man’s third act was a tragedy of bad decisions, bad actors, and a sad disconnect from the culture he helped shape.

I just finished Abraham Riesman’s TRUE BELIEVER: THE RISE AND FALL OF STAN LEE (Crown Publishing, 2021), a riveting, even-handed, and ultimately devastating biography of Stan. But as meticulously researched as it is, the book still can’t hammer down precisely what happened at the end of Lee’s life, as various self-serving succubi give conflicting reports that make objective reporting nigh-impossible.

Still, this is HIGHLY recommended to anyone with even a passing interest in the history of Marvel and its most famous frontman.

Originally posted on social media, April 12, 2022

Pops Watched TV: THE CONSULTANT

Prime’s THE CONSULTANT stars the always-mesmerizing Christoph Waltz as Regus Patoff, the mysterious titular businessman, who takes over running a mobile game company after its young CEO is murdered by a child. Ruling with an utter ignorance of the field, Patoff institutes some harsh and Machiavellian practices, zeroing in on a few employees in particular, but with an unforeseeable endgame. 

The series is based on a book by Bentley Little, so I don’t know if the source is meatier than the show, but after a promising start, THE CONSULTANT wraps up feeling like there are three or four missing episodes…. Without giving any spoilers, Patoff (also, “Regus Patoff?” Really? Wasn’t that a character in ROCKY & BULLWINKLE? Who was fooled by this?!?) has a sinister side that is never fully explored (and there’s a physical explanation for his inability to climb stairs that is so ridiculous on its face that it almost killed the whole thing for me). The series could’ve benefited from leaning a lot harder into some creepy surrealism rather than mostly feeling like an industrial espionage thriller. If there’s a second season, I’ll probably tune in again, but I really hope it gives us more substance.

Originally posted on social media, March 27, 2023

Pops Watched TV: STAR TREK: PICARD

SPOILERS AHEAD: 

I rewatched the finale of STAR TREK: PICARD last night because I was confused by how unmoved I was on my first viewing. I’m a very recent NEXT GENERATION convert, I didn’t love the show in its initial run, but during lockdown, I binged the whole series and finally got it. And what made it ultimately work was the relationships between the characters. 

So the first two seasons of PICARD (which tried, like most modern TREK, to turn the franchise into an action series) left me mostly cold. But this third and final season leaned SO heavily into TNG fan service (bringing back the entire crew with the exception of Wesley Crusher…. Poor Wil Wheaton) that, especially knowing it was the end, actually worked for me (I confess to crying a few times). Except for one, common gripe I have with 21st century genre fiction, which ended up being the centerpiece of the whole story. 

I think my beef is that out of nowhere, Star Trek decides that Picard's true strength lies in being a father, which to me is a slap in the face of the character's entire history and legacy. It's just the latest in a line of modern pop culture bows to mainstream "live laugh love" sensibilities.... Batman, Superman, Iron Man, James Bond, Black Panther, and now Jean-Luc Picard.... it's not enough that they saved the world / universe time and time again, their legacies are inadequate unless they've sired an offspring. This is not a slag against parenthood... it's against patronizing storytelling. 

Prior to the finale, I’d have bet my paycheck (which, granted, is not a lot of money) that the show was going to end with Jean-Luc Picard making the ultimate sacrifice and dying to save the universe. They even had a number of “goodbye” scenes that certainly made it seem that way. But instead, in the ultimate confrontation with the Borg, Picard simply tells his assimilated son that he’s “the piece of me I never knew was missing,” and the power of love severs the tie with the Borg, allowing the crew of the Enterprise to destroy the threat and everyone lives happily ever after. Yawn. 

Picard didn’t have to die. But the ending of the TNG finale, “All Good Things….” was (*to me) a far, far more satisfying conclusion than this was. To make the end of this character's 30-plus year story all about a character we just met? Nope. 

As always, your mileage may vary (particularly if you yourself have kids).

Originally posted on social media, April 26, 2023

Pops Saw a Movie: THE SACRAMENT

 For me, “found footage” films only ever worked once, and that was the original, THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT. Every one I’ve seen since then has just required too much suspension of disbelief to accept that the protagonists just kept the cameras rolling enough to fill out a three-act story. 

But that’s just one of the issues with Ti West’s THE SACRAMENT (2013), as lazy a piece of filmmaking as I’ve ever seen. I imagine the filmmakers sitting around saying, “Hey, you think enough time has passed that nobody remembers the Jonestown Massacre anymore? Why don’t we just tell that story and change almost nothing? And we’ll do it as found footage so we don’t have to give any backstory or fill in the blanks.” I was astounded at how rote this movie was, and being an old person who DOES remember Jim Jones, once I realized what was happening, the ending was a foregone conclusion. 

But perhaps most egregiously, in one scene, our “heroes” (who are reporters from… heh… VICE) defend themselves after being accused of having a bias by saying, “…we don’t spin things. We try be honestly subjective.”

….Seriously? Not one person caught this? It’s rare that a single line of dialogue lays bare the laziness inherent in an entire project, but there ya have it. 

The one and only saving grace of this snooze fest is Gene Jones as “Father,” the ersatz Jim Jones. But you’ll remember him as the gas station owner who won the coin toss in NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. I pretended it was the same guy. It made it a little easier to get through.

Originally posted on social media, May 1, 2023

Pops Watched TV: WHITE HOUSE PLUMBERS

 In the summer and fall of 1973, my afternoon television routine (consisting primarily of Wee Willie Webber’s Colorful Cartoon Club on WPHL-17) was frequently sidelined by my mother’s insistence on watching the Watergate hearings. The following summer, I was at the shore (Dewey Beach, DE) with my parents and grandparents when Richard Nixon resigned his presidency. Watergate was my first political memory, but at the time—aside from the battles it incurred between my lefty Dad and conservative grandmother—I found it really boring. 

Well, guess what, eight-year old me, someday a satirical dramatization of Watergate is going to be your favorite thing on TV. HBO’s WHITE HOUSE PLUMBERS totally caught me off guard (despite its VEEP connection)… I was  not expecting a side-splittingly funny black comedy… I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s all the political intrigue and ‘70s social strife mixed in there as well. But the sincere bromance between über-earnest E. Howard Hunt (Woody Harrelson) and G. Gordon Liddy (Justin Theroux) is played so broadly that it falls just short of the classic WILL: THE MOVIE parody from SCTV (link in comments). 

Apparently the mix of irreverence and an adherence to history (mostly) is causing confusion amongst some viewers. But let’s face it, C.R.E.E.P.  was comprised of some serious buffoons. It all works gloriously for me (I think my father would’ve liked it too… MeMee, not so much). My only complaint about this series is that it’s only five episodes. But I’ll be rewatching as soon as it wraps up.

Originally posted on social media, May 10, 2023

Pops Saw a Movie: ANT MAN AND THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA

As I get to about one movie in the theater a year at this point, I’m catching up on things like ANT MAN & THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA only when it hits streaming, so my thoughts are, like myself, old and out of date. 

While everyone’s suffering superhero fatigue, I’m still enough of a dork that I can’t pass on a movie that features both Kang the Conquerer and M.O.D.O.K., even though the Ant-Man films have never been high on my list of fave MCU entries. And it was fine. Predictable, CGI overloaded, cloying at times, leaning heavily into that ol’ “family matters most” bugaboo that gets under my skin, but I was entertained. Mostly. 

The big surprise for me was how much I enjoyed Jonathan Major’s performance as Kang. I’ve never been a fan of the actor before (his own personal issues aside), but his simmering rage and narcissism here made him a formidable enemy, one I’d be happy to see return. (MODOK, on the other hand, was just embarrassing to see in every scene). 

But this was—to me, anyway—the first Marvel movie that FELT like a Disney product. The cutesy characters, the STAR WARS overtones, the focus on Cassie, it was impossible to forget the corporate overlords running the show. Now, I know there are lots of you who felt that way from the beginning, but remember I come to these films with (usually) some kind of working knowledge of the world, so my suspension of disbelief has a shorter tether. 

Again, it was fine. Not something I’d rush to recommend, but I’ve spent worse two hours on the couch (and hey, it’s only two hours! That alone earns it points!). Proceed with caution.

Originally posted on social media, May 19, 2023

Pops Read a Book: A&R

I finished my re-read of Bill Flanagan’s 2000 music biz novel, A&R, about a music exec’s transition from indie to major label and the dramas into which he becomes enmeshed. I was one year out of the biz myself (after a very brief toe-dip), so I could relate to some of the back-stabbing, double-talking, excess-defending, ego-stroking intrigue herein. But the book has aged into a quaint relic at this point (even if it was prescient in some ways). It’s a fun read, although the main character kind of fades into the background in the somewhat-rushed climax. But what struck me on this go-round had nothing to do with the content so much as how I read… I don’t read that much fiction—that is unless it’s in comic book form. And a lifetime of comic reading has had one negative side effect (some would argue more): Without visual reference, I have a hard time keeping characters in a novel straight. Wait, is this that guy or the other guy doing this thing to that other person, and who’s that again?

It’s one of the things I hate about my addled brain.

Oh, but dig that lovely cover by Ward Sutton!

Originally posted on social media, May 7, 2022

Pops (Re-)Read a Book: JAWS

 I was compelled by my JAWS WEEK posts (on Instagram, July 2022) to give Peter Benchley’s 1974 novel a re-read for the first time in almost half a century, and whooo— man, is the movie better than the book!

Setting aside some really discomfiting 1970s casual racism and homophobia in the first chapter, the book is even more soapy than I’d recalled. Hooper’s sexual liaison with Ellen Brody may lead to the frustrated housewife’s reassessment of her life, but it also solidifies Hooper as the kind of callous, spoiled frat boy for which Quint (criminally underdeveloped here, and not even a resident of Amity) instantly pegs him. Brody likewise is mostly a cranky cipher, spending a lot of the book wondering if his wife is banging the ichthyologist. The subplot of Mayor Larry Vaughan’s ties to the mafia is a bit underdeveloped, and there’s nothing about the boys from the karate school “karateing” the picket fences.

As for the titular leviathan, its attacks (aside from Chrissy’s opening kill, which mostly mirrors the film) are not nearly as impactful in prose as in film (which may be an unfair comparison), and its ultimate demise is the definition of anti-climactic. Hell, the ORCA doesn’t even go after the fish until two-thirds of the way into the book… and then they go back home every night!!

If anything, reading JAWS again has given me increased appreciation for Steven Spielberg’s storytelling instincts, and made me love the movie even more.

Originally posted on social media, July 18, 2022

Pops Read a Book: THE CAPED CRUSADE

 I just finished my third read of Glen Weldon's eminently (obviosulsy) re-readable 2016 book, THE CAPED CRUSADE: BATMAN AND THE RISE OF NERD CULTURE (Simon & Schuster). While the subtitle is a bit misleading (the book pretty much stays on the Batman tip and doesn't dig too deep into the larger issues), Weldon's take on Batman comics, movies, and TV shows is pretty much spot-on (particularly in the 2017 afterword in which he eviscerates the Snyderverse), funny, insightful, and brimming with geeky righteousness (not self-). Highly recommended for anyone who ever debated the merits of Adam West's, Christopher Nolan's, Neal Adams', Bruce Timm's, or Grant Morrison's Batman.... et al!

Originally posted on social media, Oct. 21, 2022

Pops Saw a Movie: BEING MARY TYLER MOORE

 James Adolphus’ new documentary, BEING MARY TYLER MOORE (streaming on the über-glitchy MAX) is a fascinating look at the life and career of the iconic actress, a woman who revolutionized the roles of women on television not once, but twice! 

While the film (obviously) leans heavily into THE DICK VAN DYKE SHOW, MARY TYLER MOORE and ORDINARY PEOPLE, it really glosses over (or completely ignores) a lot of Mary’s later work, including some television stumbles and late reprisals of both Laura Petrie and Mary Richards. 

The most frustrating thing about the documentary is seeing how many people (including an aggressively chauvinist David Susskind and a frustratingly tunnel-visioned Gloria Steinem) completely missed the depth of the characters Mary brought to life. I’d have liked a few more talking heads (Dick Van Dyke is curiously absent and I’d have loved to hear David Letterman talk about being on her short-lived variety series, MARY), but with a wealth of rare and behind-the-scenes footage and photos, this is still a riveting (and tear-jerking) tribute to one of the most important figures in television history.

Originally posted on social media, June 5, 2023