“Mankind was born on Earth. It was never meant to die here.”

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Well, November is finally here, which means Interstellar is out for the world to see. I caught it Tuesday and I must say it was certainly one hell of an experience.

I had the luxury of watching the film on a Cinemark Extreme Digital screen, which is as close to an IMAX screen as one can get without actually visiting an IMAX theater. As the majority of the film was shot with an IMAX camera, a signature of the film’s director Christopher Nolan, Interstellar is definitely meant for large screens. The far reaches of space couldn’t be more appropriate for 70mm film. It’s just what a filmmaker needs when wanting to put an audience into space, and take them to worlds beyond our own.

Caution: Spoilers ahead

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I certainly find it appropriate to say Interstellar is the 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) of my generation, and I say that with no intention of declaring Nolan’s epic a replacement for Stanley Kubrick’s classic. In terms of Interstellar’s visual spectacle, Nolan shows us what we’ve never before seen on the big screen, just as Kubrick did at the time. And he does this without simply copying and pasting elements from 2001. It’s this factor that makes Interstellar not just a movie, but an experience. One is sure to be wowed while watching the film, particularly the sequences involving the ship Endurance traveling through the wormhole and Gargantua (a black hole).

Interstellar is more than a “space movie.” It’s a film about survival, determination, exploration, family, and most importantly, love. The emotional exchange between Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) and his daughter Murph (Mackenzie Foy) prior to his leaving for the Endurance mission is certainly one of film’s most touching moments. And this further impacts the audience near the film’s end when Cooper, staring into the moment he parted from his daughter via an extra-dimensional tesseract within the black hole, painfully screams at himself to stay behind, to choose his daughter over the mission, despite the greater good the mission is meant to serve. However, his efforts are futile as he can’t alter the past. He can only watch past events unfold as they were always meant to. It’s heartbreaking for the audience, or at least it was for me.

Cooper’s relationship with his daughter is certainly the center of the film’s story, and despite the grandness of the film’s scale and visuals, Nolan ensures the heart factor isn’t overlooked.

I’m aware of the complaints surrounding this film, and while most of them are just stupid, I still dismiss the somewhat valid points. Why? I simply loved the film. I love science-fiction, the concept of space and space travel, and I’m a huge admirer of Nolan’s films, particularly Memento (2000) and Inception (2010). The thought of Nolan taking on a space-themed project with mind-exploring elements similar to those of his previous projects intrigued me. And the cast only added to my excitement.

As many know, McConaughey’s work in films such as Dallas Buyers Club (2013), Killer Joe (2011), Mud (2012) and the series True Detective (2014) has reminded filmgoers of his ability to put on enthralling, dramatic performances. This, of course, was a major selling point for Nolan’s first directorial feature since the conclusion of his Dark Knight trilogy two years ago. I, for one, was excited to finally see a non-Batman Nolan film in a theater.

A quick point to make regarding Nolan: I hate the terms “Nolanite” and “Nolanist.” Why can’t one simply admire a filmmaker’s work because it speaks to their interests regarding film? Many of those pleased with Interstellar who defend its criticisms are in turn branded with one of the above labels, and considered empty-headed sheep who praise the work simply because of the director attached. I will admit I like all of Nolan’s films, but that’s not because Nolan made them. I admire the films because I find the films to be well-made featuring well-told stories that address subjects in which I hold interest. Nolan also strives to be original and treat film as an art form that entertains and expands the mind, and for that reason, I respect Nolan as a director.

Getting back to Interstellar, some may have found parts of the film, especially the third act, too ridiculous for their ability of suspending disbelief. I’m someone whose imagination is stimulated by the most daring aspects of science-fiction. It’s the very reason I read and watch science-fiction stories and films. Of course, poor performances and lack of interest in a particular story can affect one’s opinion, but a crew venturing through a wormhole to new worlds with the hope of saving humanity could never fail to seize my attention. But would I have retained interest, seen or loved the film had a different director or cast been involved? Who the hell knows? Frankly, it depends on those very elements, including plot details. The fact of the matter is Interstellar is here, and I love the film as it is, as opposed to whatever hypothetical scenarios disappointed viewers may conjure up.

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Real quick, I’ll address some of Neil deGrasse Tyson’s Mysteries of Interstellar, or what one may perceive as complaints regarding some of the film’s plot details.


 

“If you can poke through a tesseract and touch books, why not just write a note and pass it through?”

I’ll do you one better. Why not just plow yourself through the damn books and physically stop yourself from leaving? This film made clear why such interaction with the past was unachievable. Gravity was the only thing that could get through the barrier, otherwise Cooper would have certainly done more.

“Stars vastly outnumber black holes. Why is the best Earth-like planet one that orbits a black hole?”

It’s never stated that THE best planet for sustaining human life was one that orbits a black hole. The humans’ only options were those found on the other side of the wormhole, which were coincidentally near black hole. They didn’t search the whole damn universe. The best candidate of the humans’ options happened to be orbiting a black hole, yes. What else are you going to do though? Scour the rest of the universe and hope to find another viable candidate in time to save humanity? The question really is which is the lesser of two evils?

“Who in the universe would ever know the titles of all their books, from behind, on a bookshelf?”

Cooper didn’t. As I have only seen the film once, I can’t specifically recall the issue Tyson is addressing here. What I can say is that I don’t recall Cooper, at any time, recounting the names of his books while in the tesseract. The titles were irrelevant to his actions. He was observing the width of the books to correctly send the binary message to his daughter in the past.

“How a pickup truck can drive with a flat tire among densely planted corn stalks taller than it?”

He drove a dually.

“If wormholes exist among our planets, then why can’t one open up near Earth instead of Saturn?”

Who the hell knows? For one, we wouldn’t get to see the amazing shot of the Endurance passing Saturn. I don’t know squat about wormholes, but my mind supposes that if one were to open in close proximity to Earth, severe gravitational repercussions would possibly come about. Saturn on the other hand, is larger than the wormhole depicted in the film, and I therefore suspect the wormhole wouldn’t have much of an effect on the neighboring planet.

“Gotta tell you. Mars (right next door) looks way safer than those new planets they travelled to.”

Possibly, but the lack of an atmosphere capable of sustaining human life and other resources, not to mention the fact that Mars is dominated by deserts and frequent dust storms, omits the planet as a suitable candidate.

“If you crack your space helmet yet keep fighting, the planet’s air can’t be all that bad for you.”

Again, I need to see the film a second time with these statements in mind, but if I remember correctly, Cooper was no longer fighting Dr. Mann once the front of his helmet cracked. He was rolling around on the ground, struggling to survive. Plus, Mann stated earlier about how a person could breathe the air temporarily, but long-term exposure was dangerous. Cooper was never fully exposed to the foreign environment, as his helmet was only cracked. The sheet of glass didn’t completely shatter, so most of the barrier separating him from the outside air was still intact. And he still had some oxygen in his suit, so Cooper’s chances of survival weren’t all that slim given he was only compromised for several minutes before being rescued.

“Can’t imagine a future where escaping Earth via wormhole is a better plan than just fixing Earth.”

Perhaps they couldn’t “fix” Earth, or they were looking at the big picture, i.e. a long-term solution. They don’t give enough information regarding human society at that time, or what methods were already implemented to fix the planet’s problems. Judging by what took place in the film, I can only imagine there weren’t too many options left. We just don’t have all the facts.

“In this unreal future, they teach unscientific things in science class. Oh, wait. That is real.”

This is the one thing I don’t contest, as this issue is staring us in the face right now. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

“1974. 1350 feet up. The artistic crime of the century.”

To commemorate 9/11 this year, I’ve decided to stray away from anything relating to destruction and death.

A film to watch in commemoration of 9/11’s 13th anniversary is a documentary titled Man on Wire (2008).

This film tells the story of French high-wire artist Philippe Petit, who performed a 45-minute high-wire walk across the tops of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in the morning hours of Aug. 7, 1974.

The beauty of this film is that it shows 70s footage of the towers’ construction and the days when they were hailed as the world’s tallest buildings—20 years before destruction and death ever became synonymous with the Twin Towers. The viewer gets to see the buildings in their prime, so to speak.

The wire-walk itself is incredible, and rather daunting to one terrified of heights, such as myself.

I first heard of this film on a Houston public affairs radio show five to six years ago, the host of which is also a French native. I first watched it my second year in college, and am now reuniting with it for the first time since.

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My favorite line from the film is when Petit describes his first experience on the roof of the North Tower, looking down upon Manhattan from 110 stories. Realizing the task before him, Petit says:

“Now, it’s impossible, that’s sure. So let’s start working.”

The film is currently available for streaming on Netflix, but for any non-Netflix users out there who happen to see this, there’s a YouTube copy here. I apologize that some of moments spoken in French aren’t subtitled.

Perspectives: World War III and the Subconscious Thirst for Blood

As the one-year anniversary of this blog draws nearer, I decided to write a piece that was both different and special. The following has nothing to do with film or the film industry, but a much more important subject that’s significant to this day.

In the United States, if someone asked what Sept. 1 meant to you this year, the likely answer might be a three-day weekend. However, the world viewed the date in a different light 75 years ago.

On Sept. 1, 1939, German military forces entered Poland with the sole purpose of occupying the country. This action would result in Britain and France declaring war on Germany two days later, and plunge the world into turmoil. But Germany mustn’t receive all the blame, as events occurring in Southeast Asia throughout the 1930s—the reaches of the former Empire of Japan—also contributed to the tyrannical chaos which consumed the world in the 1940s.

Realizing 75 years have passed since that fateful day in Europe brought two thoughts to mind: humanity’s obsession with waging war, and the inescapable subject of World War III.

The idea of World War III is pervasive to the human mind, and has been since the end of World War II in 1945. Many of us sit around wondering when the next Great War will hit, particularly the world’s political leaders, who are under the utmost pressure to prevent such a conflict. The Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962 is widely regarded as the closest we’ve come to World War III, or full-scale nuclear war.

What does the concept of World War III really mean though? We seem to throw it around without giving it much thought, especially in the heat of a new international crisis. The Crimean crisis in February and March was the most recent I heard the term used; friends of mine wondering if we were heading for World War III. The North Korean nuclear threat in March 2013 was another instance in which the term came about. But it was during the Crimean crisis when I began to re-examine the meaning of World War III.


 

A New Perspective

In March I learned that Winston Churchill once described the Seven Years’ War (1756–1763) as being history’s first world war. In the fifth chapter of his book “A History of the English-Speaking Peoples Vol. 3: The Age of Revolution,” Churchill tells of Britain’s challenge with fighting France in multiple theaters—in Europe, the New World and the East—during the Seven Years’ War.

“War with France would be a world war—the first in history…”

Churchill stressed Britain’s need to defeat France on all fronts in order to prevent future global conflict, a concept which, according to Churchill, was new to warfare at the time.

The Seven Years’ War spanned Europe, the Americas, Africa, India and the Philippines, and it involved the world’s great powers of the time, the largest belligerents of which were Britain and France. As many as 15 nations participated in the conflict, with more than 1 million military and civilian losses on both sides. The sheer scale of the conflict and its effect on the world serves as Churchill’s criteria for labeling the Seven Years’ War as the first world war.

Two chapters onward, getting into the eruption of the American War of Independence, Churchill also describes the conflict that gave the U.S. its independence from Britain as a world war.

When referring to the signing of the 1778 Franco–American Treaty between France and the American colonies, Churchill states:

“Thus began another world war, and Britain was without a single ally.”

This logic led me to view the concept of a world war in a different way. The concept itself is more than the mere title of a specific conflict, as with World War I and World War II. Why are these two conflicts recognized as such, but not those before them? One might say it’s because the term “world war” didn’t exist at the time, and while that’s true, it doesn’t render those conflicts ineligible.

What exactly is a world war then? Going by the simplest definition, the Oxford English Dictionary defines a world war as “a war involving many nations of the world.” The OED states the term originates from a publication titled People’s Journal in 1848:

“A war amongst the great powers is now necessarily a world-war.”

The OED fails to offer the author’s identity, but the statement speaks for itself.

If this definition provides the soul criteria for a world war, then it is accurate to say there have been world wars dating as far back as 5th century BC. Of course, this doesn’t mean World War I (1914 –1918) bears any inferior significance.

There’s no denying World War I changed warfare forever. It was the first war to erupt on an industrious scale, resulting in an estimated 15 million losses. Heavy machine guns, poison gas, tanks, airplanes and submarines made their wartime debut, and their use left a lasting impact on the world. The substantial loss of life and weaponry made it so war would never be thought of, or fought, in the same way ever again, hence the conflict’s designations “The Great War” and “The War to End All Wars.”

However, despite World War I’s impact, Churchill illustrates that there is more to a world war than a name alone. In fact, World War I didn’t even receive its numeric title until the buildup of World War II. The first known use of both terms was in the June 12, 1939 issue of Time Magazine in a piece titled “Europe: War Machines.”

“In World War II it is possible that even nations who do not take sides may play a vital military role, for they may be invaded.”

“In World War I, for example, command of the air changed hands several times…”

In three other instances, the article also refers to World War I as “the World War.” One example being:

“Failure of leadership lost the World War for Germany…”

Following the Sept. 3 war declarations by Britain and France in 1939, the concept of World War II first appeared in the press on Sept. 4 in the Danish newspaper Kristeligt Dagblad—“The second World War broke out yesterday at 11 a.m.” Continuous references such as this resulted in the term’s inevitable association with the world’s deadliest conflict.

Due to the scale and substantial loss of life, I certainly understand why people at the time would assign these conflicts their respected labels. But looking at it from Churchill’s perspective, the labels are inaccurate, and in that case, one might ask why we identify the conflicts as World Wars I and II. It’s a fair question, as Churchill makes a solid point regarding the Seven Years’ War being the true first world war. If we’re going to label the world wars numerically, World Wars I and II would be further down the line, given four candidates stand between the Seven Years’ War and World War I: the American War of Independence (1775–1783), French Revolutionary Wars (1792–1802), Napoleonic Wars (1803–1815) and the Crimean War (1854–1856).

An argument could be made that World Wars I and II are called as such because they were essentially one conflict—two parts of “The Great War”—thus rendering it inappropriate for the Seven Years’ War to be designated as the “true” World War I. This philosophy stems from the fact that the effects of World War I, such as the Treaty of Versailles and League of Nations, sparked the international incidents in Europe, Southeast Asia and Africa during the 1930s, which ultimately led to the formation of the Axis Powers and subsequent war declarations in 1939 and 1941. However, I’m not a proponent of this philosophy as it takes away from the concept of World War III.

The different schools of thought regarding the 20th century world wars simply illustrates the free-thinking ability of humanity, and the tendency for one viewpoint to be more widely accepted than another. Due to cultural differences throughout the world, conflicts often bear alternative designations depending on the country in which they’re fought and/or referenced. At the end of the day, it’s about what one deems appropriate, and nothing more. My perspective aligns with Churchill’s, and it is with this that I move on to the subject of World War III.


 

World War III

I’m sure many of us are familiar with Albert Einstein’s 1947 statement regarding World War III.

“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”

This is probably the most well-known statement associated with the concept of World War III. It’s amazing how Einstein can paint such a grim picture of the conflict with so little words, because anyone pondering World War III typically imagines destruction and death on an unfathomable scale. I’m not surprised that those who think of this potential conflict do so with such ferocity and fear. After all, what other conclusion could one draw from Einstein’s words?

The most common scenario drawn from the concept of World War III is that of nuclear war. There are two reasons for this line of thought: the resulting turmoil and profound loss of life during World War II, and the mass development and stockpiling of nuclear weapons in the last 69 years. The creation of the atom bomb alone gives this theory credibility. It’s the most powerful weapon ever forged by the human species, and it instills fear into just about every living person aware of its existence.

Another factor to be considered is the fact that each major military conflict since World War II has upstaged its predecessor technologically and tactically. At this point nuclear war seems to be the only method in which another world war could be fought. This, however, is a narrow way of analyzing the concept of World War III.

I won’t go as far to say the term “nuclear war” doesn’t constitute a war in any sense of the word, but I will say the term is misleading, at least in regard to a world war. A war fought primarily with nuclear weapons could very well involve the world’s most populous and powerful nations, and can surely span multiple continents. But where qualifications fall short is the involvement of battles across multiple theaters, as nuclear war doesn’t, and can’t, involve battle.

A nuclear war, by my philosophy, is nothing more than the world’s nuclear nations attacking one another with endless nuclear missiles in a simultaneous, strategic fashion. This is a pointless, idiotic act with no real purpose. War is always fought with a purpose or goal in mind. War is always paired with a reason and sought outcome, no matter how inhumane or asinine. Nuclear war has no outcome beneficial to the parties involved, or those not involved for that matter. Everyone and everything is annihilated. There are no winners, only losers. Nothing comes of it, and for that very reason, nuclear war could never realistically constitute a legitimate war, and certainly never a world war. The concept of nuclear war is simply a euphemism for global genocide.

So ruling out nuclear war as the basis for World War III, Einstein’s statement becomes even more enigmatic. This begs the question: What conflict could be worse than World War II that doesn’t revolve around nuclear war?

Some find that the Cold War (1947–1991) served as World War III, as it certainly revolved around the threat of nuclear war—e.g. the Cuban Missile Crisis. Others assign the label to the War on Terror (1993–present). Some in support of the Cold War theory even hold the War on Terror to be World War IV. The ongoing crisis involving Russia, the Ukraine and Crimea— as I previously stated—has many feeling we’re on the brink of World War III, and of course, there are those who believe the conflict has yet to arrive.

I’m in disagreement with each of the above theories because they’re all attempting to answer what I find to be a trick question. It’s a trick question because, in my eyes, there is no conflict worse than World War II.

When we think of World War III, we think of nuclear weapons, death on a scale never before witnessed and worldwide suffering. World War II fulfills each of these categories, so in a sense, World War II was World War III. We only fail to perceive the conflict that way because of its journalistic branding in 1939.

To date, World War II remains the deadliest military conflict ever fought with an estimated 66 million deaths on both the military and civilian fronts, according to Necrometrics.com. Some estimates are known to be lower and higher, but the fact remains that when one adds the highest estimated casualties of every major post-World War II conflict, the result is only a third to half of World War II’s lowest casualty estimates.

The line between civilians and military personnel was more or less eradicated during the war. Due to heavy exposure, most today are aware of the millions who perished in the Holocaust. However, I feel that same level of exposure has overshadowed other atrocities carried out in the time of the war, at least to the common mind.

For example, the Imperial Japanese forces massacred hundreds of thousands of Chinese and Filipinos in Nanking and Manila, respectively. They killed more than 20,000 Allied prisoners of war in the Bataan Death March following the fall of the Philippines in 1942, and persuaded thousands of Japanese civilians to commit suicide during the Battle of Saipan in order to avoid Allied capture. Thousands more also suffered in the Japanese experimentation facilities of Unit 731.

The Germans and Japanese aren’t the only ones at fault though when it comes to atrocities carried out against civilian populations. The Soviet Union executed nearly 22,000 Polish POWs in Katyn in the spring of 1940, the graves of which were discovered by German soldiers in 1943. The Soviets’ hand in the massacre wouldn’t be officially acknowledged for another 47 years.

The firebombing of Tokyo and atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, each carried out by the U.S. in 1945, are also three events that can’t be ignored. While Tokyo wasn’t any less destroyed in the firebombing raids, the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki are more well-known to the world. This isn’t surprising given the atomic bomb’s destructive power, long-debated ethics of its use and the fact the Japanese bombings remain the only use of nuclear weapons in war to date. The number of Japanese citizens who died in all three cities varies, but estimates place the death toll anywhere from 250,000 to 350,000.

World War III is thought by many to bring about the end of the world, and it’s accurate to say that figuratively, the world as humanity knew it in 1945 ended the instant the first atomic bomb was tested. John F. Kennedy, on the day of his death, summarized this reality with a single statement at the end of his last presidential address in Fort Worth, Texas:

“We would like to live as we once lived, but history will not permit it.”


 

The Subconscious Thirst for Blood

World War II was a period of hell on Earth unlike anything humanity has ever experienced. Every day I am thankful the world has yet to plunge into a period of darkness rivaling the conflict which spanned the globe in the 1930s and ‘40s. Make no mistake, evil is still very much alive in the world, and the world will most likely never be without it due to the free-thinking ability of humanity. Our free will makes the riddance of war and evil a near-inaccessible step in the progression of the human species, and to reach that step means to move against nature, which we’re comfortable with in every regard except our own existence.

The need to continuously wage war is in our blood, and we’re obsessed with it to the point where we’re striving to keep it alive. Subconsciously, we want World War III to happen as if it has yet to come, and if one conflict doesn’t get far enough, we simply initiate another and see where it goes; a process of trial and error. We don’t know how to stop, and we find all these excuses to justify the necessity: greed, religion, fear, politics, societal structure and retribution.

We’re always more interested in adding to history rather than learning from it, which becomes a more pressing problem as previous generations fade and new ones emerge. I have the gut feeling that a sizable portion of my generation, at least in the U.S., fails to possess the most basic knowledge of World War II. This stems from the horrifying revelation in 2012 that a wealth of modern teens and, sadly, people my own age hadn’t any idea the sinking of the R.M.S. Titanic was a real-life incident. These same people probably don’t know the significance of dates like Sept. 1, 1939; Dec. 7, 1941 or June 6, 1944. I’m staggered at this ignorance, as it is one of many contributions to the careless continuance of war throughout the world. How can we learn from our past if the children of today don’t even know about it?

Next to exterminating ourselves, we have reached the peak of our destructive capabilities. We’ve attempted to surpass our historical feats for the last 69 years, but we always fall short because it can’t be done. If everyone can realize this and accept we’ve already lived through the worst, the concept of war may finally become obsolete.

In memoriam … Robin Williams

Like many others around the world, I just heard the tragic news regarding the loss of Robin Williams, who died today at the age of 63.

This is certainly saddening news, as several of Williams’ most well-known films came out during my childhood. He was a gifted actor and comedian, showcasing his abilities to both make people laugh and put on a gripping, dramatic performance.

Of Williams’ films, the ones I’ve enjoyed the most over the years (in no particular order) are Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Aladdin (1992), Jumanji (1995), Good Morning, Vietnam (1987), Flubber (1997), Good Will Hunting (1997) and Insomnia (2002).

I think about it and wonder if this is how people felt when Elvis died (or something along those lines), as Williams was an artist of my generation whose work I’ve admired for years.

I won’t say much more, other than it’s a sad day indeed for the arts, especially for comedic artists. He will certainly be missed and remembered.

 





“Behold…”

After taking July to focus on other writing endeavors, I return to the blog realm with one of my most anticipated 2014 films.

I’m not exactly sure when it was I first heard about Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy, but I’m sure my initial skeptical thoughts were the same as other moviegoers.

It was sometime after seeing The Avengers in 2012 when my lack of interest in the Marvel Cinematic Universe began to evolve into a love for the franchise. I introduced myself to Thor (2011) and Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), and was looking forward to 2013’s Iron Man 3. Then, upon researching the other upcoming Phase 2 films in the MCU, Guardians of the Galaxy caught my eye.

First thoughts? Who in the hell are the Guardians of the Galaxy? How is this connected to The Avengers? A walking, talking tree and raccoon?

Curiosity certainly got the better of me from the get-go. My initial readings on Marvel’s new cinematic venture told me very little. All I had to go on was a group of intergalactic misfits and criminals that band together to save the galaxy. It sounded like something right out of the Star Wars universe, and I have to admit that I wasn’t sure what to think at first.

The only cast member I recognized in the beginning was Zoe Saldaña, from films like Avatar (2009), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, The Terminal (2004), Star Trek (2009) and Drumline (2002). I’ve always enjoyed her work, so when I learned she was playing the alien assassin character of Gamora, my level of excitement climbed a touch.

I occasionally paid attention to the film’s development throughout 2013, and finally saw the first trailer with Captain America: The Winter Soldier this past April, which shined a much brighter light on the film in my eyes.

I found myself surprised at the tone of the trailer to be honest. I knew all the MCU films to feature a touch of humor, some more than others, but judging from the trailer, Guardians of the Galaxy seemed it would definitely be the most humorous of anything Marvel Studios had done up to that point (which proved true upon seeing the film, only going up against The Avengers).

The use of Blue Suede’s “Hooked on a Feeling” over a shot of the five principle characters standing in a line-up, appearing bored and yawning, added a rather unconventional touch to the trailer’s tone, emphasizing the lack of sincerity.

In addition to humor, the trailer showed the film’s quintessential space adventure elements, such as spaceship battles, a bizarre assortment of humanoid creatures and mystifying sci-fi objects—again, something right out of what we’ve seen in the cinematic world of Star Wars.

Benicio del Toro’s role as Taneleer Tivan, a.k.a. The Collector, in Guardians of the Galaxy

One of the key shots of the trailer, showing the main tie to the rest of the MCU, was that of Benicio del Toro’s role as Taneleer Tivan, a.k.a. The Collector. Viewers who stay for the post-credit scenes in Marvel’s films would recognize him from the end of Thor: The Dark World, when two representatives of Asgard, including Lady Sif, leave the Aether, one of the six Infinity Stones, in his care.

The Infinity Stones, in my opinion, are the glue holding the MCU films together. Each is sought after by the antagonistic titan Thanos, along with the Infinity Gauntlet, which will supposedly be the plot point of the third Avengers film. The way I see it, each of these films is building up to the climactic showdown between the Avengers, assisted by the Guardians, and Thanos, with Guardians of the Galaxy being the major stepping stone in that direction.

As I realized this connection between the Guardians, Thanos, the Avengers and the Infinity Stones, my excitement for Guardians of the Galaxy peaked, and I could no longer wait for the weekend of August 1. I have now seen the film twice, and I must say it’s everything I expected it to be, and just as enjoyable the second time.

The general plot revolves around a band of misfits: Peter Quill, an Earth-bred intergalactic thief; Gamora, an assassin and step-daughter to Thanos; Drax the Destroyer, a brute hell-bent on avenging the death of his family, who also happens to speak with an immense and literal vocabulary; Rocket, a wise-cracking raccoon, the result of experimentation, who makes his living as an intergalactic bounty hunter; and Groot, a humanoid tree-like creature serving as Rocket’s bodyguard and muscle, whose vocabulary is limited to “I am Groot.”

The eponymous Guardians meet in an odd twist of fate surrounding a mysterious orb, which is revealed to be another one of the six Infinity Stones, and have to work together to stop the murderous Ronan from using the orb to destroy the galaxy. Despite their differences, the five wind up having more in common than initially suspected, and make a hell of a team because of it. But of course, who couldn’t see that coming, right?

Charlie Wen’s concept art (top) for Guardians of the Galaxy, and the film depictions (bottom) of the characters

It’s hard for me to pick my favorite aspect of the film. The top two are definitely the soundtrack and play on “Earth” pop culture.

 Guardians of the Galaxy features an awesome, and memorable, collection of music from the 1960s and ‘70s. Along with Tyler Bates’ space opera score, the inclusion of ‘60s and ‘70s pop songs not only adds to the character of Chris Pratt’s Peter Quill (Star-Lord), but it adds to the film’s humor, originality and fun. The music helps make the other story elements relatable to the audience because they know the world Quill comes from, and understand his manner of explaining the culture to other unfamiliar folks, which in this case are intergalactic beings.

Some of my favorite tracks from the soundtrack include Blue Suede’s “Hooked on a Feeling,” The Runaways’ “Cherry Bomb” and David Bowie’s “Moonage Daydream.”

The other aspect that adds a wealth of humor to the film is Quill’s various references to the “Earth” (American) pop culture of his time—1988, when he was abducted from Earth. My favorite is the Kevin Bacon reference when Quill tells Gamora the notorious tale of Footloose (1984) and the legend of Kevin Bacon, one of Earth’s greatest heroes. Gamora recalls this tale during their climactic battle aboard Ronan’s ship. “We’re just like Kevin Bacon!”

It’s this kind of humor that makes the film such an enjoyable experience. That combined with hilarious one-liners, the music, and an adventurous space opera-tale, Guardians of the Galaxy evokes a feeling within the viewer similar to that of the original 1977 Star Wars.

It’s these kind of films that make movies fun, and what’s best is that despite being part of a larger film series, Guardians of the Galaxy leaves the viewer with a resolved ending, giving the film a more stand alone feel. So even if Disney and Marvel abruptly decided NOT to continue the cinematic adventures of the Guardians, we’d still have one solid film at the end of the day.

I still won’t say it’s my favorite film of the MCU, as that title still belongs to Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but Guardians of the Galaxy certainly among my top five in the company of The Avengers, Iron Man (2008) and The Incredible Hulk (2008).

The next time we see the Guardians may not be until the third Avengers film, as we have Ant-Man (2015), a supposed Doctor Strange film and the third entries of the Thor and Captain America trilogies to look forward to for the next few years. But at least we can say Marvel successfully pulled off what was probably considered their biggest risk film since Thor.

Now, we look ahead to May 2015 as the Avengers reunite against the wrath of a self-aware A.I. named Ultron.

©2015 Marvel Studios

“Remember who you are.”


It’s insane to me that this film turns 20 years old today.

There is nothing more exciting than being a child when a movie like The Lion King comes out. This film has to be one of Disney’s most treasured animated features among the entirety of its cinematic works. And those of us who have seen it know why.

Set in a kingdom of lions in Africa, The Lion King tells the story a lion named Simba, prince of the Pride Lands. When Simba’s father, Mufasa, is murdered by his jealous and treacherous brother Scar, Simba is blamed for Mufasa’s death and banished from the Pride Lands, after which Scar takes the throne. The rest of the film follows Simba as he grows and realizes he must face his uncle and his past, and reclaim his right to the throne.

Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Matthew Broderick voice the young and adult Simba, with James Earl Jones as Mufasa, and Jeremy Irons as Scar.

The film includes an ensemble of other characters: Simba’s best friends Nala (Niketa Calame/Moira Kelly), Timon (Nathan Lane) and Pumbaa (Ernie Sabella); Zazu (Rowan Atkinson); Rafiki (Robert Guillaume); and Scar’s loyal hyenas Shenzi (Whoopi Goldberg), Banzai (Cheech Marin) and Ed (Jim Cummings).

So many elements make this movie memorable, powerful and a classic. Hans Zimmer’s score for one—music that leaves you emotionally hypnotized throughout the film’s most powerful scenes. We are also given a set of songs, courtesy of Elton John, with lyrics so unforgettable that those in their 20s today know them by heart.

Another of the film’s powerful elements is the heartfelt pain that grips you when Mufasa falls to his death and his son desperately attempts to wake him; when Simba is visited by his father’s spirit in a brief, but dramatic exchange; or during the climactic conflict between Simba and Scar atop Pride Rock.

The Lion King fails to fall short in any area of emotional impact, giving us humor, jealousy, love, loss, anger and friendship. Despite using animals as characters, the film’s story effectively makes each character relatable to the audience in some shape or form. No matter how old you are, there’s bound to be at least one part of this movie that brings you to the verge of tears. This is one of many, if not the primary, elements of The Lion King that makes it so powerful, but it’s the whole package that makes it my favorite Disney animated film of all time.

Happy 20th.



“Look at the stars. The great kings of the past look down on us from those stars…So whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you…and so will I.” – Mufasa

The Great Crusade

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When it comes to World War II, four dates stand out to me. These are Sept. 1, 1939, Germany’s invasion of Poland; Dec. 7, 1941, the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor; June 6, 1944, the allied invasion of Normandy; and Aug. 6, 1945, the atomic bombing of Hiroshima.

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the Normandy invasion, commonly known as D-Day, and in those 70 years, the invasion remains one of the largest global military efforts in history. D-Day was also a major turning point for the Allies in World War II, one of the largest conflicts—and the deadliest—humanity has ever seen.


“You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.”

– Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Letter to Allied Forces


Nazi Germany’s system of coastal fortifications in Western Europe

Operation Overlord was the military designation for the launch of the invasion. More than 2,400 aircraft dropped 23,000 airborne troops over Normandy in the early morning darkness of June 6. Later, nearly 7,000 naval vessels crossed the English Channel, landing 132,000 troops on beach sectors codenamed Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno and Sword—designated Operation Neptune, the largest seaborne invasion in history.

By the end of the day 156,000 American, British and Canadian troops were in German-occupied France.

The Normandy invasion was one of the most crucial points of the Allied campaign in World War II. If the invasion failed, the war would have carried on for months, if not years, with unfathomable losses, which is why an overwhelming force and surprise were required for the operation.

To fool the German forces, the Allies required a false objective and decoy force.

The most obvious target was the narrowest part of the English Channel near the French town of Calais, more than 100 miles northeast of the Allies’ intended target. Double agents and the planting of false intelligence were used to persuade the Germans into taking the bait. The placing of mock forces—dummy tanks, camps, troops and other military equipment—in false staging areas ultimately convinced the Germans of an attack elsewhere.

While both the deception plan and Overlord were military successes, Overlord wasn’t without its obstacles on June 6.

The invasion was originally set for June 5, but weather conditions—high winds and rough seas—made launching invasion forces impossible. The invasion was only postponed a day, under the impression the weather would clear up, but weather still presented a problem. Overcast skies prevented C-47s from flying in the required formations, resulting in numerous airborne misdrops throughout Normandy. Some airborne units were dropped miles from their designated landing zones, causing a significant delay in securing specific objectives.

The overcast also forced many aircraft to fly at lower altitudes, exposing them to German anti-air weaponry. Planes were shot down, and some paratroopers were killed from gunfire or impact due to jumping at low altitudes.

The circumstances of the airborne assault adversely affected the seaborne assault. Because of the misdrops and delays, objectives critical to the success of the beach landings—meant to disable German defenses—weren’t completed before seaborne forces arrived. The overcast also made it impossible for Allied military forces to provide air cover during the start of the invasion.

The end of D-Day left 4,413 Allied troops dead, and many more injured, missing or captured. The Germans are estimated to have sustained 4,000-9,000 casualties. Overlord was an overall success, but the Allies failed to complete all their objectives on June 6. Only the Gold and Juno beachheads were linked the first day of the invasion; all five weren’t connected until June 12. The port at Cherbourg was captured by Allies June 26, and the city of Caen secured July 21. The Allies began an invasion of southern France on August 15, and Paris was finally liberated on August 25, bringing Operation Overlord to a close, and opening the road to the end of Nazi Germany.

 

Saving Private Ryan / Band of Brothers

Many films depict the events of the European and Pacific theaters of World War II. Two of the best depictions of the D-Day invasion I have ever seen are without a doubt found in Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan (1998), and HBO’s Band of Brothers (2001)—produced by Spielberg.

SPR shows the invasion from the perspective of seaborne forces, focusing on the fictional character Capt. John Miller, played by Tom Hanks.

In the film’s first half our, the audience is taken to the shores of Omaha Beach on the morning of June 6, 1944. From there, a 24-minute sequence depicts the Allies’ struggle to secure the Omaha beachhead of Normandy, going up against German barricades, artillery and machine-gun fire.

While it is historically inaccurate to depict what took hours as taking only 24 minutes, SPR still has a story to tell, which can be one of compromises that comes with feature films.

Miller, on orders from Gen. George Marshall of the U.S. Army, is sent into German-occupied France with a squad of seven men to find Pfc. James Ryan, a missing paratrooper, so he can be discharged and sent home. The mission is ordered after Ryan’s three brothers are killed in action, and Gen. Marshall expresses his strong feelings about it being unacceptable for a parent to lose all of their children in combat.

With the exception of the D-Day sequence, the events in the film are fictional, but the story is based on the real-life World War II tragedies of the four Borgstrom and three Butehorn brothers, in which two families lost all of their sons.

Behind the mission, Spielberg uses his film to show the mental and emotional struggles of war, all while bringing a new sense of realism to the war genre, the likes of which had never been seen before. At age 10, this film introduced me to the concept of war, as well as World War II, and it was a rather graphic, but honest method of exposure.

To this day, SPR remains one of the best war films I’ve ever seen, and it still escapes me how Shakespeare in Love (1998) won Best Picture over SPR at the 71st Academy Awards.

 

Now, as much as I love SPR, I think I love Band of Brothers even more.

Based on the 1992 book Band of Brothers, E Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne: From Normandy to Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest by Stephen E. Ambrose, the series follows Easy Company (506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division) from training in the U.S. prior to D-Day to the surrender of the Japanese in 1945. Details from E Company members’ memoirs were also incorporated into the series.

I’ve always considered BoB a spiritual successor to SPR. Spielberg’s production of the series serves as one connection to SPR, but the series also uses a lot of SPR’s cinematography techniques, lighting and pacing, giving that definite feeling the two are blood relatives.

Like SPR, BoB begins with the D-Day invasion of Normandy, but this time from the airborne perspective. The audience gets to see more of the preparations behind D-Day in BoB’s first episode, while SPR drops them straight into the invasion. The invasion commences with the second episode, dropping the viewer from a plane into a barrage of gunfire—Mission Albany.

BoB depicts several major points of the European theater, including the D-Day invasion, Battle of Carentan, Operation Market Garden, Battle of the Bulge, liberation of the Landsberg concentration camp and capturing of the Eagle’s Nest in Berchtesgaden.

The events in BoB are more accurately portrayed historically, and the characters featured are based on real-life soldiers, giving the series a leg up on SPR. Just knowing the events in the series, while dramatized, are based on real events makes the entire experience all the more gripping.

The length of BoB versus SPR, 11 hours versus three, also makes a huge difference regarding character development and the viewer’s attachment to that character.

 

Both titles are well-made, enriching dramas that bring the spirit of the mid-1940s to life, as well as the spirit of the world’s deadliest war. Outside of documentaries, either is a fitting choice for experiencing some of the horrors of World War II.

As Richard Winters says in Band of Brothers, D-Day was certainly a “Day of Days,” and while costly, its success brought the Allies one step closer to liberating Europe from tyranny.

It’s the millions of people from different parts of the world banding together to stop a single oppressive force that makes this day so memorable in my eyes. Unfortunately, this kind of humanity seems to have disappeared in the years since, and who knows what it’ll take to find it again.

The Anniversary Strikes Back

While I wish I could have posted this earlier, unanticipated circumstances arose that prevented me from doing so. However, I’m here now, and there’s no time like the present.

As a Star Wars fan, I’m excited to finally be making my first post regarding the “galaxy far, far away.”

This wasn’t my first opportunity to write about Star Wars, given the recent announcement of the Episode VII cast, but I felt the anniversary of the original film’s release was the best time to introduce this blog to Star Wars commentary.

Despite the buzz surrounding the upcoming film, I won’t be discussing Episode VII. The future holds plenty of opportunities to discuss that subject, so I’ll be devoting this post to subjects regarding the other films, and Star Wars Day itself.

 

Star Wars Day

I reached a predicament concerning Star Wars Day in April as I prepared this piece for May 4—the date most refer to as Star Wars Day due to the phrase, “May the Fourth be with you.” The Star Wars Facebook page frequently posted images counting down the days to May 4, which is where I came across a complaint against the May 4 Star Wars Day celebration.

In the comments for one of the photos, someone mentioned the true origin of the phrase, “May the Fourth be with you,” which to my surprise, has more to do with politics than Star Wars itself.

The iconic phrase was first used May 4, 1979 after Margaret Thatcher was elected the first female prime minister of the U.K. Thatcher’s party bought an ad in the London Evening News reading, “May the Fourth be with you, Maggie. Congratulations,” after the election.

I know this fact isn’t news to most, but it was to me, and I must admit I was rather surprised the phrase wasn’t originally coined by Star Wars fans for a Star Wars-related reason.

The first organized celebration of the May 4 recognition of Star Wars Day wasn’t until 2011 in Toronto, Canada. I wasn’t surprised upon learning this fact considering the first time the unofficial holiday, or “May the Fourth be with you,” came to my attention was that same year when the cover designs for the Star Wars Bluray sets were officially released.

As a fan, I don’t find much significance pertaining to the celebration of May 4 since these discoveries. Sure, May 4 gives us a catchy phrase we can sputter all day long, but what does the day really mean for Star Wars?

There are others who recognize May 25 as the true Star Wars Day, and I have to say I agree with this view. The anniversary of the original film’s release is a much more significant basis for a day of recognition than a simple play on words.

 


 

Now, to get into the bulk of this post, I’m going to discuss Phantom Menace’s status as a Star Wars film.

I’ll probably be reamed by most who read this for what I’m about to say, but I figure since most people spend their time slamming this movie, I’ll spend mine defending it.

OK, first I’m going to just put it out there and say Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999) isn’t as bad as everyone has made it out to be in the last 15 years, especially compared to the latter two films of the Prequel Trilogy. The consensus is Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005) is the “best” prequel, but I respectfully disagree.

I’ll admit Phantom Menace’s plot is shakier compared to its sequels, but there are other elements that give all three films advantages and disadvantages in terms of quality.

 

Jar Jar

I’m going to start by getting this guy off the table.

It’s obvious no one likes Jar Jar Binks, and I’m not going to dispute that. While we would have liked to see Jar Jar get an exit more along these lines, cutting his screen time down to practically nothing by Revenge of the Sith wasn’t a bad alternative.

The character technically serves a purpose (inspiring Amidala to revolt against the Trade Federation and “starting” the Clone Wars), but the distraction and annoyance he brings to the films outweigh any purpose his character could provide.

Jar Jar is featured in the majority of Phantom Menace, reducing the film’s appeal since his screen time is reduced to less than half in Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones (2002), and even less in Revenge of the Sith. Unfortunately, the latter two prequels contain other problems that make Jar Jar’s irritancy seem somewhat irrelevant, nullifying the character’s existence as a reason to disown Phantom Menace.

 

Romance

Let’s be honest. The dialogue (and chemistry) between Anakin and Padmé concerning their romance in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith is pretty damn terrible. It’s the cringiest element of the latter two prequels for me, but that’s not because I’m uncomfortable with onscreen romance. Take The Empire Strikes Back for example. The romance between Han and Leia couldn’t have been done any better, and I’m sure many agree.

Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) and Padmé Amidala (Natalie Portman ) in Episode III

 

“I felt I needed a love story, and yet I couldn’t have a lot of smooching and kissing and all that stuff, and it had to all be more implied.” – Director Irvin Kershner on the Han/Leia romance in Empire, from Empire of Dreams: The Story of the Star Wars Trilogy (2004)

 

We can say, “If only they’d gone the Empire route for the love story,” all day long, but we have to deal with what we have, and what we have for a love story in the prequels does neither the franchise, nor the significance of the romance justice.

A connection between Anakin and Padmé is present in Phantom Menace, but it’s far more subtle than that of its sequels due to the characters’ age difference, and isn’t even the film’s focus. The Anakin/Padmé romance plays a bigger role in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, serving as the catalyst for Anakin’s corruption and fall to the dark side. One would think the love story would have been done better if love was responsible for Darth Vader’s existence, but that shouldn’t be any surprise considering how the prequels fell short in a number of areas.

I’m not sure which line bothered me most, but two from Revenge of the Sith—“Hold me…like you did by the lake on Naboo,” (Natalie Portman) and “No, it’s because I’m so in love with you.” (Hayden Christensen)—are strong contenders for 1st place.

This romance is just one element among many placing Phantom Menace above the other prequels. We may watch Phantom Menace dreading Jar Jar entering the frame, but we can sit soundly knowing the lovey-dovey material is an entire film away.

 

Podracing

This is more of a nostalgia bit than anything else.

As unnecessary as the podracing sequence may have been in Phantom Menace, it was still one of the more exciting parts of the film, along with the climactic lightsaber duel. I’ll even say that for 1999, the computer animation in this sequence isn’t half bad. Oddly, the vehicles look better than their drivers, with the exception of Anakin since he’s a human actor.

Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith obviously have no podracing, but it’s not like they needed it since the storytelling gets heavier. Attack of the Clones gives us the speeder chase on Coruscant, which is as close as we’ll get to a second podrace, but the hokey dialogue during the speeder chase makes it difficult to like the sequence as much.

The main reason to be thankful for the podrace actually has nothing to do with the Phantom Menace film, but a video game, and anyone who grew up playing N64 in the late 90’s and early 2000’s knows what I’m talking about.

Star Wars Episode I: Racer (1999) was probably one of the best commercial products to come out of Phantom Menace. It was the most fun racing game I ever played growing up, next to Mario Kart 64 (1996), but not only that, Racer to date holds the record for best-selling sci-fi racing game with worldwide sales of 3.2 million, according to Guinness World Records 2011 – Gamer’s Edition. The game also received mostly positive reviews for both N64 and PC versions.

So why give a hoot about podracing? Well, because it was a fun, exciting and memorable action sequence set on a planet we all know and love. Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, of course, have action sequences of their own, but to me personally, none stuck out as much as the podrace, with the exception of the lightsaber duel in the third film.

Like I said, it’s mainly nostalgia talking here, but it’s still another reason for me to rank Phantom Menace higher.

 

Villains

One of the reasons I feel the prequels were weaker than the originals is because of their lacking a consistent antagonist. Yes, Palpatine is there, but he’s always lurking in the shadows. He’s not the in-your-face villain until Revenge of the Sith, and he splits that role with Vader.

The originals gave us Vader as a consistent villain to identify with throughout all three films, which is what we needed with the prequels. Darth Maul could have been a worthy candidate, but they decided to kill him instead. My preference would have been establishing Grievous as the main antagonist with Palpatine in the background, but that’s a discussion for another time.

The three sub-villains of the Prequel Trilogy (left to right): Darth Maul, Count Dooku and General Grievous

So without a consistent villain, it boils down to who does the better job.

In my opinion, Maul is the clear winner because Dooku and General Grievous were nothing but laughable due to their dialogue. Plus, Maul was the only villain in the film saga to wield a double-blade, which come on, is badass. The concept of Grievous is good, but anyone who saw Revenge of the Sith knows the character was underdeveloped and not well-executed. Grievous was killed off too early, given the character’s total screen time, and in an anti-climactic way. Dealing with a new villain can be a problem when you’re supposed to have both Vader and the Emperor in the closer, but then why have Grievous at all?

Maul was also the only villain to not spout the whole “join me” gag—the only villain this worked with was Vader in Empire. One could argue we only got to see Maul kick ass and look cool, but compared to Dooku and Grievous, is that a bad trade-off?

And I’m obviously not the only one who thinks this since Maul was resurrected (outside the films) years later.

 

Liam Neeson

The best part of Phantom Menace is this man.

Known at the time for his lead roles in gripping dramas such as Schindler’s List (1993) and Michael Collins (1996), and now for fast-paced action thrillers like Taken (2008), Liam Neeson brought the same acting potential to Phantom Menace as the late Sir Alec Guinness in Star Wars. Neeson’s Qui-Gon Jinn is definitely the best element of the film, even above Darth Maul, which is why folks often say things like, “Not even Liam Neeson could have saved this trash.”

It’s just fun to see him provide a sense of wit and humor, sometimes unintentional, throughout the movie, also like Guinness. He has that “I don’t give a shit” mentality about him, which is one of the elements that make his character missed in the next two installments.

And what a letdown it was when we all thought we’d be revisited by Mr. Neeson in the end of Revenge of the Sith that first time we saw it. Only if, right?

However, we have Neeson in Phantom Menace, which is a major help in distilling Jar Jar’s potency. Be thankful.

 

Battle Droids

Battle droids and super battle droids fighting during the Battle of Geonosis in Episode II

This one’s just stupid. When you have hordes of droids built specifically for combat, it makes no sense to give them personality of any sort. What’s the point if the majority of them are going to be destroyed?

This presents the question as to why battle droids talk at all. One could argue speech is needed for one droid to relay an order to another, so I’ll give them that. But here’s an even bigger question: Why keep the voices the same in the first two films, but then drastically change them for the third?

To put it bluntly, the battle droids sound like something out of a toddlers’ paradise in Revenge of the Sith. Is the ridiculous way they speak supposed to be intimidating to the Republic forces? If so, I don’t see it. And to make it worse, the super battle droids’ (introduced in Attack of the Clones) voices are even more cartoonish.

Anyone who played Star Wars: Republic Commando (2005) knows the super battle droids were given deep, menacing and threatening voices, which weren’t present in Revenge of the Sith.

Speech sample at 0:35

Speech sample at 0:10

Honestly, Attack of the Clones did the best job with the battle droids. The battle droids were hardly featured, but even during the climactic battle the super battle droids didn’t speak and a handful of standard battle droids only spoke a few words. The battle droids do speak in Phantom Menace, and are featured more prominently, but if they’re going to speak, the 60’s robots style in Phantom Menace is the better choice. I’d choose 60’s robots over toddlers’ paradise any day of the week.

Speech sample at 0:54

Speech sample at 5:49

The destroyer droids were obviously done the best because they don’t speak once throughout the Prequel Trilogy. The rest of the Trade Federation’s forces were just made into a joke by the third film. The droids hardly speaking is one of the perks of Attack of the Clones, but in situations when battle droids speak, Phantom Menace wins.

 

Anakin / Darth Vader

I know some accept Hayden Christensen’s portrayal of Anakin and Vader, but I’m not one of them. I still watch and enjoy the films in which he stars, but at the end of the day I’d prefer another actor in his place.

Evolution of Darth Vader (left to right, top to bottom): Jake Lloyd in Phantom Menace, Hayden Christensen in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, David Prowse (suited) in the Original Trilogy, Sebastian Shaw (unmasked) in Return of the Jedi

Evolution of Darth Vader (left to right, top to bottom): Jake Lloyd in Phantom Menace, Hayden Christensen in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, David Prowse (suited) in the Original Trilogy, Sebastian Shaw (unmasked) in Return of the Jedi

Christensen’s poor chemistry with Natalie Portman is what I’d call a major contribution to his inability to handle the role, and the overall delivery of his dialogue doesn’t gain him any sympathy votes. I’ve recently come to feel an older and more mature actor was needed to show off Anakin’s military and authoritative personality traits. Think about it this way. Imagine Christensen speaking any of Vader’s lines from the Original Trilogy. Do you buy it?

This next part may sound ridiculous, but I actually feel it’s one of the more important points.

Vader (in the suit) crossing his arms at the end of Revenge of the Sith distorted the illusion of Darth Vader onscreen because he never once crosses his arms in the originals. His trademark stance in the original films was placing his hands on his belt. If Lucas wanted to properly bridge the two trilogies, carrying this body language over to the prequels, I feel, was crucial in depicting the character.

Darth Vader in The Empire Strikes Back (left) compared to Revenge of the Sith (right)

Darth Vader in The Empire Strikes Back (left) compared to Revenge of the Sith (right)

The scene where Vader dawns the suit in Revenge of the Sith was also severely rushed, and in the film’s last minutes too, so we couldn’t even really take it all in. And I’m sure the “Nooooooooooo” was something we all could have done without—and that’s all I’ll say about that.

So, my point?

Phantom Menace may have given us Jake Lloyd as a young Anakin, but Christensen was guilty of far more offenses in portraying the character in the latter two prequels. Because we’re spared Christensen, Phantom Menace, yet again, stands as the more rewarding film.

 

Soundtrack

John Williams at the 50th Academy Awards in 1978 where he won the Oscar for Best Original Score

John Williams at the 50th Academy Awards in 1978 where he won the Oscar for Best Original Score

As one fond of film scores, this is probably the issue that bothers me the most.

It’s obvious various musical themes are reused throughout the Star Wars saga, such as “The Imperial March.” I say reused and not recycled because while composer John Williams uses the same melodies and patterns in all the films, he uses them in different ways. “The Imperial March” is the perfect example because Williams prominently uses this theme throughout the saga, and no two times are the same.

If one listens to the complete soundtracks of the Original Trilogy, they’ll hear changes in the manner in which the march is performed from scene to scene. In Return of the Jedi (1983), a different emphasis is placed on the notes for the scene in which the Emperor arrives at the Death Star II, as opposed to the first time the march is heard in The Empire Strikes Back (1980).

The original Imperial March

Another variation of the march

[Fun fact: Contrary to what people might think, Star Wars (1977)—a.k.a. Episode IV: A New Hope—is the only film in the entire saga to not feature “The Imperial March.” This is because the march wasn’t written until Williams composed the score for Empire.

If one goes back and watches Star Wars (any version) and focuses on the music, they’ll notice the infamous selection commonly known as “Darth Vader’s theme” is nowhere to be heard.]

 

John Williams and George Lucas going over ideas for the original Star Wars score in 1977

John Williams and George Lucas going over the original Star Wars score in 1977


To add to the point of the Original Trilogy soundtracks, all three are completely original, meaning not one specific piece of music from any film shows up in another—not counting the main themes of the films’ opening and closing sequences.

When I say “piece of music,” I mean the specific composition itself, not a melody. So while we may hear different interpretations of “The Imperial March” from Empire to Jedi, we never hear the same version twice. This was an element that gave all three original films a unique identity, and this element disappeared, to an extent, in the prequels.

The only prequel with a unique musical identity was Phantom Menace. Not a single piece of music from the Original Trilogy, meaning specific compositions and not the notes themselves, is present in Phantom Menace. For the start of the prequels we’re given a fresh musical score with slight hints to what we’ve previously heard. The same can’t be said, however, for the other two films.

In both Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, specific musical selections from the Phantom Menace score were used, or “recycled.” Basically like copy and paste.

The “Duel of the Fates” piece from Phantom Menace being used during the Anakin/Obi-Wan duel in Revenge of the Sith is one incident, with the Battle of Geonosis sequence in Attack of the Clones featuring musical moments Phantom Menace’s opening being another.

Phantom Menace selection at 5:56

Phantom Menace selection at 4:17

I’m confident in thinking this decision wasn’t up to Williams, but more likely George Lucas, as Williams has provided numerous complete and original scores throughout the past several decades.

So Phantom Menace has the upper hand here as it’s the only prequel to feature an original soundtrack from start to finish.




In no way are these topics the limit regarding Star Wars prequel discussion, but I think my point is clear. Is Phantom Menace worthy of Best Picture? No, but when it comes down to it, Phantom Menace is the lesser of three evils concerning the prequels.

Jar Jar may have been bad (to some that’s putting it lightly), but I think he can be tolerated given everything else we have to deal with in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith. This is, of course, all my opinion, and every Star Wars fan is entitled to view the films however they choose.

Happy (belated) Star Wars Day.


Preview: The Anniversary Strikes Back

Due to unfortunate, and unanticipated circumstances, I wasn’t able to properly celebrate the anniversary of Star Wars‘ release today. It’s also what I, and many others, think of as the TRUE Star Wars Day, as opposed to May 4.

Who would have known one of the largest breakthroughs in cinema would have taken place 37 years ago today?

I shall properly commemorate this anniversary soon, but for now, I still have less than five minutes to officially recognize Star Wars Day. Better late than never, right?

More to come.

“Let’s go catch a spider.”

I don’t know what it is about Marc Webb’s Spider-Man series, but it never seems to have as much appeal as the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I’m never as enthused to see these new Spider-Man films as I am to see the next MCU film.

There are several reasons for this: 1) After seeing The Avengers (2012), it’s difficult for me to get excited for anything outside of that series, with the exception of X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014); 2) Spider-Man being cut from the MCU due to legal issues and greed is a major turn off from the franchise for me; and 3) The fact another Spider-Man film series ended only five years before The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) tends to make one think, “Really? Spider-Man again?”

Next to the MCU, these Spider-Man movies seem like the Narnia series compared to Harry Potter. There was just never any excitement to see the rest after Narnia’s first film, but I never lost interest while actually watching them. And oddly enough, each time I’ve been to see these new Spider-Man films, I always wind up enjoying them, no matter what I rant about beforehand.

 

(Caution: Major spoilers ahead)

Overall, I felt The Amazing Spider-Man 2 was a good sequel for what its predecessor was. I didn’t necessarily like it more than ASM, but I liked it as much, giving it a bit more credit for the portrayal of its villains.

Some of the reviews say the film suffers from an unfocused narrative, but I wouldn’t agree with that 100%. To me, the story’s main point is Peter Parker’s struggle to let go of those he’s lost—first being his parents, then his uncle Ben and now Gwen Stacy in this film.

Sam Raimi’s series dealt with Parker dwelling on his uncle’s death, along with protecting Mary Jane from evil. Webb’s series, I feel, gives Parker more to deal with emotionally.

Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy

Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy

While it’s a different love interest, both series present a complication with Parker’s love life. I prefer Webb’s over Raimi’s since Emma Stone’s Gwen is more appealing to me as a character than Kirsten Dunst’s Mary Jane. Mary Jane always came off as rude and shallow—the kind of person who becomes part of the popular crowd at school, but because their home life sucks, they take it out on the “non-popular” kids to compensate.

Mary Jane was like that toward Parker for the high school portion of the first film, which was enough for me to lose sympathy for her. I never cared whenever Mary Jane was in danger, and maybe that was because there was always a feeling of knowing she’d be saved. ASM2 broke this trend with Gwen’s death.

Now, I knew beforehand that Gwen’s character met her end in the comics while Spider-Man saves her from a fall. So given the darker and less campy tone of Webb’s films, I predicted Parker’s love interest would meet an unfortunate end at some point, with my money on the second film. Sadly, my prediction proved true.

Stone was one of my favorite parts of these films and she’ll definitely be missed. I always liked her character’s sense of humor. She gave off such a friendly vibe, like someone you’d enjoy hanging out with any time of the day. Plus, something about the relationship between Gwen and Parker felt more real than that of Mary Jane and Parker in the previous series. Maybe that’s partly because Andrew Garfield and Stone have a real-life romantic relationship, but hey, whatever enhances the illusion.

My favorite part of ASM2 was actually a part involving Gwen. After Spider-Man leaves to fight Electro in the final conflict, he webs Gwen to the hood of a car to keep her from following him, and out of danger. She angrily shouts Peter’s name in response to his actions, but then promptly covers her mouth in shock at having just outed Spider-Man’s identity.

 

Concerning the rest of the film, I do have a couple complaints despite my liking most of it.

The biggest buzzkill for me in ASM2 was the overhaul of slow motion during the film’s action sequences. I understand the effect’s use to help depict Parker’s Spidey-sense, but sometimes, when not used tastefully, slow motion can severely diminish the pacing and impact of a fight sequence. The incident that sticks out in my memory the most is the Times Square fight between Spider-Man and Electro, their first encounter.

Jamie Foxx as Max Dillon (top) and Electro (bottom)

I liked the dialogue between Parker and Electro prior to the fight, with Electro on the verge of exploding and Parker attempting to talk him down. That and the music—a pulsating and electric techno groove, rather than a swelling of symphonic tones—gave the entire fight an intense buildup that drove the viewer closer to the edge of the seat. Then, not three seconds after Electro declares Spider-Man his enemy and strikes, the entire scene freezes to follow Electro’s blast path and provide a broader perspective of his destructive reach. This is an interesting concept in theory, but the sudden stop of everything in the middle of the action, after more than five minutes of preparation, just killed it for me.

I was expecting more, but the filmmakers sacrificed a more thrilling introduction for the villain for a breakdown of Spider-Man’s perception. Once the effect ceased to dominate the scene, Parker saves those in danger and Electro is quickly subdued; a lot of effort without much in return.

This occurs several more times in the film, particularly during the climactic battle. The only part in which I felt this effect worked, to an extent, was the scene in which Gwen falls to her death. The use of slow motion in a fall sequence is nothing unheard of in movies. The most famous instance of this technique’s use is probably Hans Gruber’s death in Die Hard (1988).

When a significant character is going to be killed off, a simple realistic fall wouldn’t do anything emotionally for the viewers. It’s that feeling that consumes you—the feeling of time slowing as a character you care for meets their end. As the scene drags on, you’re filled with disbelief, hoping a miracle will save this person, but deep down you know there is no hope.

What was even sadder was watching Parker stand at Gwen’s grave season after season, fighting the cruel reality that the love of his life was gone.

Gwen Stacy staring up as Spider-Man and the Goblin fight, only seconds before her tragic fall

Continuing on, I didn’t like anything involving the Rhino. This had nothing to do with Paul Giamatti because he’s a fine actor, but he was out of place in this film for me.

Regarding Spider-Man in general, I’ve never liked the Rhino as a villain. I always thought himto be ridiculous and could never take him seriously. I mean come on, compared to the Goblin, Venom and Doc Ock, how could he?

His suit and everything in this film was just laughable compared to everything else. The ending featuring the Rhino’s ending took all seriousness and emotional impact from Gwen’s death and funeral just minutes before. Not a good way to end the film; same with its predecessor ending with a campy, made-for-3D shot of Spider-Man shooting a web at the screen.

Had the Rhino material, particularly the ending, been omitted, the film’s closing wouldn’t have felt as dragged out. A good way to end the film would have been showing Parker packing his parents’ belongings, and memories of Gwen, and then hearing about Giamatti’s character breaking out of jail before retrieving the Spider-Man outfit. That would effectively show Parker’s decision to return to crime fighting after being inactive for six months, but without spoon-feeding the audience.

Spider-Man and Electro face off in the film’s climactic battle

Another complaint I have isn’t necessarily directed toward this film, but its respected genre.

There are rare occasions when comic book films effectively develop the villains, but most of the time the films’ antagonists are introduced, have an accident to become the villain, concoct some insane plot and are defeated in two hours. My problem is it doesn’t ever seem like villains have enough screen time before becoming the villain, and the transformations always feel rushed. Why should we care about this villain when we barely know them?

Having Max Dillon (Electro) in ASM to give him a more proper introduction would have been great. Then we could connect with his character on a deeper level by the second installment.

I thought the presentation of Dr. Connors was very well done prior to his becoming the Lizard in the previous film. He had much more screen time and interaction with Parker before his transformation, and while a giant lizard may be hard to buy, we still knew the character well enough to stick around.

ASM2’s problem in this area is due to the focus on Harry Osborn, his father’s death and his relationship with Parker. We don’t see too much of Dillon because of this. The film spends a little too much time developing the other villain, leaving Electro out in the cold.

Dale Dehaan as Harry Osborn (left) and the Green Goblin (right)

That being said, I actually loved Jamie Foxx’s Electro. I was skeptical before seeing this movie since I’m not too fond of Foxx’s work. He did an awesome job with this character though, and the visual effects for Electro were incredible. After watching several interviews with Foxx, I’ve come to learn of his enthusiasm toward the film and role, and the great deal of respect he has for the source material. This makes the character all the more appealing because I know he genuinely cared for the part. So while he might not have been my first choice, Foxx was certainly a worthy candidate for the job.

I also favored Dale Dehaan’s Harry over James Franco’s. I felt more sympathy for this depiction of Harry, not to mention he had real problems to deal with. Franco’s Harry only had a vendetta against Spider-Man’s involvement in his father’s death, and constantly gave Parker a hard time for being friends with Spider-Man. Dehaan’s character was facing terminal illness and losing his inheritance of Oscorp through treacherous board members.

Following Norman Osborn’s death, Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) reunites with Harry Osborn after years of estrangement

Dehaan really came off as a desperate individual in need of a solution, hence his approaching Electro for help. Franco just came off as a spoiled rich kid, which is what his character was, so that’s not particularly Franco’s doing. He worked with what he was given. I simply prefer Webb’s Harry as his character is more tragic.

Like I said before, it’s a good film for what the first one was. It could have been better, but I’m not going to complain too much because I don’t invest too much interest in these films. Plus, it wasn’t trash. I’ve seen trash, and this Spider-Man sequel doesn’t fit that bill.

Maybe the third one will up the standard, but I’m not sure how I feel about these films serving as a catalyst for a Sinister Six project. I would rather they just be strong, enthralling Spider-Man films. I think one broad superhero film universe—the MCU—is enough for Hollywood. To me, everything just comes off as inferior in comparison, so why bother? This is one reason why I’m not all that excited for the DC film universe and the studio’s attempts at a Justice League project. It just seems like a move on the studio’s part to cash in on Marvel and Disney’s success, which is a low blow.

The X-Men franchise seems to be doing a decent job of straying away from this formula, but we shall soon see what X-Men: Days of Future Past has to offer.

"You don't give people hope...you take it away...now I'm gonna take away yours." - Harry Osborn to Spider-Man

“You don’t give people hope…you take it away…now I’m gonna take away yours.” – Harry Osborn to Spider-Man