• X-Men: The Last Stand — Pretty good, but not as good as the first two.
• Penguin by Design : A Cover Story 1935-2005, by Phil Baines — Fascinating study on the evolution of Penguin’s book covers. Historical rather than instructional.
• Build Your Own Website The Right Way Using HTML & CSS, by Ian Lloyd — Great introduction to web design, aimed at the absolute beginner, with none of the messy presentational garbage still being taught in most books. A more indepth review is forthcoming eventually.
• Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett — PTerry only writes good books.
• Saucerful of Secrets : The Pink Floyd Odyssey, by Nicholas Schaffner — Well told biography of the band.
• Superman Returns — Very disappointing. All glitz, no substance. Heavy on nostalgia, short on originality.
• 10,000 Days, by Tool — Damn good, though less experimental than their two previous albums, harkening back to 1993′s rocking Undertow.
• Stop Stealing Sheep & Find Out How Type Works, by Erik Spiekermann and E.M. Ginger — Entertaining overview of the hows and whys of good typography.
• Future Noir : The Making of Blade Runner, by Paul M. Sammon — The intriguing story of how one of the most enduring and influential science fiction films of all time was made, with detailed analysis of all its minutae for the hardcore fans.
• Shadow of the Colossus — An entire game of boss battles, defeating stunning giants one by one. The first several giants are easy enough to beat that one is lulled into thinking the game is too simple, but the challenges soon become very challenging.
• Boagworld podcast — Weekly show on modern web development trends and practices. Amusing and informative.
• Trader Joe’s 3 Bean and Beef Chili — The best chili I’ve ever had from a jar.
• Rescue Me — The finest show on television, irreverent and intense, and often hilarious. Denis Leary finally got his edge back.
• Comics & Sequential Art, by Will Eisner — Seminal masterpiece on the art of graphic storytelling.
• Venture Bros. season 1 — A strong standout in the Adult Swim lineup, chock full of geekery and cheekery.
• In the Beginning…was the Command Line, by Neal Stephenson — Humorous and enlightening history of the computer operating system.
• Company, by Max Barry — Brilliant corporate satire, shocking in its plausibility.
• Firefly — I never watched it in its original run on Fox, but now thanks to Netflix, I too can gripe about the tragic cancellation of this excellent series.

Line up every cliché from every swashbuckling sci-fi sword-and-sorcery adventure quest fantasy flick and set them to an overeager symphonic score and you’ve got Krull. This movie has it all:

• Swords vs. lasers.
• Two suns, just so you don’t mistake the breathtaking landscape of planet Krull for the Italian Alps.
• A handsome young prince with a persistent grin.
• A cantankerous wiseman.
• A bumbling wizard for comic relief.
• A motley band of likable ruffians with stylish battle axes, to be bumped off one by one throughout the course of their adventures.
• The few ruffians whose names we learn get tragic death scenes and last words, the rest just croak for croaking’s sake. They may as well be wearing red shirts.
• A cyclops.
• A dangerous quest to save a princess, which is in turn made up of no fewer than five mini-quests.
• Hand-animated morphing, circa 1983.
• Efficient expositionary dialogue. You learn everything you need to know in the first seven minutes. After that it’s all about the questing, baby.
• Faceless enemies with bad aim.
• Not only can’t they aim, but they’re easily dispatched by heros (and make a wicked screech when they die).
• Full-scleral contacts.
• Quicksand.
• Sidekicks galore. Even the sidekicks have sidekicks.
• The consoling phrase “we’re your family now,” a surefire comfort for any child suffering the recent loss of a loved one.
• Stretch pants.
• A giant spider.
• Flying horses. Flying Clydesdales, even.
• A magic shuriken-cum-boomerang, a mythical weapon which can only be wielded by a prophesied warrior (the aforementioned prince, natch).
• He mustn’t use it until the time is right. When is that? “You will know.”
• A vaguely Gigeresque monster in inexplicable soft focus.
• Flames shooting from fingertips. Sweet.
• Rock climbing.

With a menu like that how can you go wrong? Pretty easily, it turns out. Krull flopped at the box office, having the misfortune to release within weeks of “Return of the Jedi” in the summer of 83. It later went into heavy rotation on HBO where I watched it at least twice a week during the summer between fourth and fifth grade, planting Krull firmly in the nostalgia centers of my brain.

In the years hence it has languished in obscurity, all but forgotten by nerdkind. But I sincerely believe this movie deserves cult classic status. Sure it’s hokey and derivative, the special effects are cheesy and dated even by 1983 standards, the performances by the largely unknown cast are shallow and uninspired, and the story is generally plodding and highly predictable. But, come on, it’s got swords and lasers! A giant spider! QUICKSAND! ‘Nuff said.

Syrup is about marketing, that mostly invisible yet harshly pervasive industry of manipulation lurking behind the chair and beneath the belly of pretty much every aspect of modern life. Everything you see, hear, touch, taste or smell has been marketed to you. And if you can name something that hasn’t been marketed, chances are someone is already working on a way to make money off it. Syrup’s take on the grimy-glitzy world of marketing is deeply cynical and sharply satirical, mostly because it’s so dead-on truthful. Barry himself has spent some time in that world, and his apparent mix of pride and shame can be sensed in the prose. Marketing is inherently evil, yet still pretty cool in spite of itself. The particular sort of marketing depicted in Syrup is ruthless and insidious and only very slightly exaggerated.

Our hero is a hotshot junior marketroid who dubbed himself Scat and who aspires to reach unfathomable fame and fortune by coming up with the Next Big Thing. Scat’s an idea man, and while his ideas aren’t really all that innovative, he’s one of the very few people you’ll encounter who actually pursues the kind of fleeting bright ideas we all have. The Next Big Thing is summed up in Scat’s 10-second pitch to Coke: “New cola product. Black can. Called Fukk.” The people at Coke love the concept (it’s just so ballsy you can’t resist succumbing to the aggressive charisma, what the stuff actually tastes like is inconsequential) and run with it immediately, and through his naïve excitability Scat allows his idea to be stolen away from him.

But he bounces back soon enough with yet another groundbreaking idea, with the help of his partner at Coke, the stunningly cool, savagely gorgeous, and bizarrely monikered 6. She’s young, ambitious, intelligent, cruel, calculating, and completely unattainable. Scat immediately falls hard in love with her. The two proceed through a convoluted chain of successes and failures, culminating in the biggest marketing venture ever attempted: a Coke commercial thinly veiled as a Hollywood blockbuster movie. That almost seems far-fetched and ludicrous until you realize that it’s actually been done. Ever since Elliot bonded with E.T. over a bag of Reese’s Pieces (you know the M&Ms people are still kicking themselves for passing on that), product placement in films has become ubiquitous and even more deeply ensconced.

Parts of Syrup almost read like a guidebook to sleazy marketing and cutthroat business tactics, as well as interpersonal communication. There’s an uncanny insight into the human mind, the sorts of subconscious instincts most of us know but never really think about or articulate. Reading the inner thoughts of Scat as he tries to read 6′s mixed signals is instantly identifiable, and Barry deftly articulates those reactive instincts in a way that blends surrealist parody with empirical observation.

While Syrup may tend toward fluff at first glance, that’s simply because it’s designed that way: a fast-paced and witty spoof of life. Just like the advertising that seeps into our mental pores at every turn, Syrup rides in on a wave of irony and satire, silently delivering a more powerful message that lingers after the movie ends and the cover closes. There’s a surprising amount of depth going on here, not only exploring how we perceive companies and brands, but how we perceive each other. And since we all know perception is reality, Syrup is more real than you may think.

Twin Warriors

The plot: Two best friends (not actually twins) are expelled from their local Shaolin temple and must make their way through the conflicted society of feudal China.

I picked this film with the assumption that Jet Li + Michelle Yeoh + Yeun Woo-Ping = cool kung fu flick. In the end I was entertained, but not terribly impressed. It doesn’t compare at all to the majesty of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon or the artistry of Hero, but Woo-Ping’s martial arts sequences are enjoyable enough to make up for the choppy, disjointed story. The film passes through several chapters, but the transitions between them are clumsy. It feels as if it was cobbled together out of scenes from a much better series, sort of a highlights reel rather than a cohesive story.

One of the twins (Jet Li) is kind-hearted and peace-loving, while his buddy (Siu-hou Chin) is rowdy and ambitious. Chin joins up with the Chinese army to seek fame and glory while Li falls in with a band of rebels. Needless to say, they wind up at opposite ends of the spectrum and must battle each other. The only reason to see this movie is for some pretty cool martial artistry. Woo-Ping’s pioneering wire-work is on full display. Michelle Yeoh is underused. The numerous comedic interludes are ham-handed. Jet Li kicks ass.

Rating:

The Girl Next Door

The plot: Awkward high school senior meets a retired porn star, falls in love, messes everything up, puts it all back together, and lives out every geek’s fantasy by nailing Elisha Cuthbert.

Hm, yeah that’s a pretty good summary. This movie is pure adolescent fantasy: social outcast finds a smoking hot girl who loves him for who he is. Oh how often I have dreamed that dream. Sure that’s oversimplifying, but it’s a simple movie. Perhaps my biggest complaint is that the age difference is never really addressed. Obviously she’s still young (though over 18 I hope), but one would have to presume she’s been in “the industry” for a few years at least, unless she only did a few movies and got burned out fast. It’s just never explained, probably because that would ruin the whole adolescent fantasy thing. Nobody wants to get creeped out by statutory rape when they’re busy lusting after a hottie. Maybe it’s in one of the deleted scenes, which I didn’t watch. But all in all it was an amusing diversion. I saw the “unrated” version, which has extra gratuitous nudity, so that’s always a good thing.

Rating:

Velvet Goldmine

The plot: A reporter digs into the variegated past of fictional glam-rock star Brian Slade, tracing his rise to fame and ultimate descent into obscurity.

I’ll start the review by just saying that I love this movie. I’ve seen it a few times before, but never have gotten around to purchasing it. This was probably my fifth or sixth viewing and each time I discover some other little detail or reference, it’s that kind of film. The storytelling is structured very much like Citizen Kane, seen through the eyes of a journalist piecing together a biography through a series of interviews. Christian Bale portrays Arthur, the interviewer who—in a departure from the Citizen Kane model—is himself part of the story he’s piecing together. Arthur was a starry-eyed fan of the enigmatic glam star in early-70s London, at the crucial time in his life when he was sorting out his own sexual identity. He idolized Brian Slade as a messianic figure bringing about a new age of sexual freedom and creative expression. The stories are told in tandem, with Arhur’s own flashbacks to his angsty youth intermixed with the recollections of those who knew Slade in his prime. The film skips around in time and viewpoint, a patchwork tale seen through the dreamlike fog of memory.

Velvet Goldmin at first seems like a biopic of David Bowie and Iggy Pop (with Iggy being represented by the aggressive American junkie rocker Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor)) but really the characters are mere composite archetypes of an era in music/pop culture history, when the world was beginning to get over the earthy love of the hippies and move on to the image-conscious artifice of disco. The glam craze never fully caught on in America, but its influence could be strongly felt in the “new wave” of the early 80s. But this movie isn’t strictly a docudrama of glam; it’s a human story of self-discovery. Slade isn’t even the central character, just a catalyst, a nexus of influence and personality that touches the other people around him. Everyone has distinct memories of Slade, yet nobody seems to have known him very well.

This is a great movie, but may not appeal to everyone. It can be a little confusing and hard to follow, what with all the time-hopping and musical interludes (great soundtrack) and fantasy vignettes. But it all pulls together in the end with enough ambiguity to keep you thinking, and it’s really better on a second viewing. Or a sixth. Unfortunately the DVD is annoyingly devoid of extra features. I’d love to hear a director’s commentary on this one.

Rating:

The plot: Girl meets girl, girls scam Mafia.

Ask anyone about this movie and the first thing they’ll mention is steamy lesbian sex. Well, yes, there’s that, but it’s also a pretty decent mob caper thriller to boot. Gina Gershon is a recently-released ex-convict who finds work remodeling an apartment. The next door neighbors are Jennifer Tilly and her gangster thug boyfriend Joe Pantoliano. Tilly and Gershon exchange meaningful glances and flirtations, quickly culminating in a full-on lesbian affair. They then conspire to steal two million dollars from the Mafia, and dangerous hijinks ensue. As might be expected, the plan comes off with a wide range of hitches, complications, double-crosses, and a stack of dead bodies.

The lesbian angle is one of the more original and refreshing aspects of this movie. The attraction between them is genuine, and the relationship is depicted as it would be between opposite genders, just two people who have the hots for each other. This was the first movie by Larry and Andy Wachowski, the fraternal duo who brought us the Matrix trilogy. While the subject matter is entirely different, there are some stylistic similarities, especially in some of the camera work.

Rating:

Y Tu Mamá También

The plot: A pair of young Mexican friends go on a road trip with an older woman and learn lessons of life and sex along the way.

Ask anyone about this movie and the first thing they’ll mention is the graphic sex. Basically the entire movie is about sex, but in a completely frank and healthy way. It’s not pornographic or exploitative, just brutally honest. Two best friends on their summer vacation before heading off to university meet up with an exotic Spanish beauty, the estranged wife of the cheating cousin of one of the buddies. The guys are keen to impress her, because hey, that’s how young guys are. But she’s not easily impressed, and the three converse over a wide range of topics (mostly dirty stuff) on their journey.

If I had to pin this movie down to a single theme, I’d say it’s about maturity: the way your view of the world–and especially of relationships–changes drastically between the ages of 18 and 30. Experience brings perspective, and the things you think are important at 18 are just not a big deal a few years down the road.

Rating:

American Wedding

The plot: Nonexistent. Horny pie-poker kid grows up and gets engaged and his horny jackass friends complicate everything.

Ask anyone about this movie and the first thing they’ll mention is that it sucks. American Pie was a guilty-pleasure movie, the kind you know intellectually is really lame and stupid, but you enjoy it nonetheless. But this third flick in the Pie trilogy should have never been made. It’s a series of predictable setups for embarassment and misunderstanding, barely interconnected. Even the gratuitous nudity isn’t enough to make it watchable (though it’s certainly appreciated).

Rating: