THE GOLDEN COMPASS
(Review)

I’ve read the first two installments of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials (been looking for quite a while now, but have yet to find The Amber Spyglass in the bargain bins), and enjoyed both tremendously.
Pullman understands—as do the likes of directors Peter Jackson and Guillermo Del Toro—that fantasy should also possess a certain sense of horror for it to be informed with substance, a darkness to give everything else (not the least of which, the light and the wisdom that accompanies it) a proper weight.
Obviously, I didn’t expect the film adaptation of The Golden Compass (originally titled Northern Lights) to be as substantial as the source material.
Sadly though, it feels like a child who’s suffered a botched intercision.

Now, on the plus side, let me just say that The Golden Compass looks fabulous, like Nicole Kidman the first time we see her in the film: the divinely sinister Mrs. Coulter, in that dress.
Like Coulter at the university banquet, the film that contains her is visually stunning, and has resulted in Oscar nominations for Best Art Direction and Best Visual Effects. Here is a fantasy world that is amazingly realized, courtesy of a hefty budget (reportedly $180 million).
As much as I love Matthew Vaughn’s Stardust, The Golden Compass certainly looks a damn sight better. Compass, however, lacks not just the disarming charm of Stardust, it also lacks—as Mrs. Coulter apparently does—a certain sense of humanity.

For the most part, Compass feels like the ride Lyra (newcomer Dakota Blue Richards) takes atop warrior ice bear Iorek Byrnison (voiced by the brilliant Sir Ian McKellen). And though this sequence is one of the Compass bits that work, my comparison isn’t meant to be a flattering one.
In trying to fit all of the novel into the film’s 113-minute running time, director Chris Weitz (who also penned the script) treats us to a cavalcade of scenes that aren’t allowed to breathe, that aren’t given the time for the narrative (and the audience) to discover who these characters are and why they should warrant any attention or sympathy. The scenes only seem to take as long as is needed to get packets of information and heady concepts to the audience, before we’re whisked off to another locale and another handful of plot points.
Which is sad since Richards actually does a decent job at playing Lyra, the tale’s young heroine, and in a film like this, the young protagonist is always the key to fully enjoying and appreciating the material. If the child actor isn’t any good, chances are, the film falls apart.

In this case though, it’s the script that fails Richards, and most of the cast as well. 007 Daniel Craig is good as Lyra’s explorer uncle, Lord Asriel, as is Craig’s co-star in Casino Royale, Eva Green, as witch queen Serafina Pekkala (though Green does lack the gravity required for the film’s opening voice-over). Jim Carter also gamely gives his best shot at John Rhys-Davies, as Gyptian king, Lord John Faa.
But as good as these performers are, the truly exceptional ones are Sam Elliott as aeronaut Lee Scoresby, and the bears, Sir Ian, whose magnificently resonant vocal delivery captures the regal and fierce pride that informs Iorek, and Deadwood’s Ian McShane, who voices the bear king, Ragnar Sturlusson (renamed from Northern Lights’ Iofur Raknison so as to avoid confusion with Iorek).
Sadly though, there just isn’t enough Scoresby in The Golden Compass, and Ragnar has hardly been introduced to us, before he’s swept off the narrative’s board, and we’re off gallivanting towards the next plot point. Sir Ian at least, gets to unleash his inner ice bear, and it’s to Richard’s credit that she pulls off the scene where Lyra first meets Iorek rather admirably. Considering she was an inexperienced actress playing off a special effect made her performance all the more impressive.

When I first heard who The Golden Compass’ director was going to be, I couldn’t quite see why the choice was a proper fit. Yes, I loved Weitz’s screenplay for Antz, but the films Weitz actually had directing duties on were titles like the Hugh Grant-starrer About A Boy, the Chris Rock-starrer Down To Earth, and American Pie (though Weitz was uncredited for the last). Hardly the stuff of big budget fantasy films.
And if anything has been learned from some of the more recent cinematic entries in the genre, the director has to have a certain mindset where the special effects and the fantastic elements of the production are used as tools to enhance the narrative, the means to an end and not as the end itself.
Tragically (and despite the fact that Weitz first came on board as writer/director, then walked away from directing duties, only to return after Shopgirl director Anand Tucker came and went), Weitz seems to have gotten himself lost in both the story and the means by which the story is being told.

Even flawed as it is though, Weitz’s effort is possibly still one of the most substantive fantasy films yet, which is, of course, part of why it doesn’t work quite as well as it ought to.
The concepts are complex and weightier than your average wizards and warlocks fare, what, with souls externalized in the form of daemons, parallel worlds, and cosmic particles called “Dust,” the witches and ice bears seem like the terribly antiquated part of the equation.
Thus, much of The Golden Compass is exposition at the expense of character. And though Weitz has expressed a desire for an extended cut on DVD (which would have a running time of about two and a half hours), the theatrical cut sorely lacks a warmth it so desperately needs.
It also lacks that sense of horror I mentioned at the top of this review. There are just some scenes (particularly the reveal involving poor little Gyptian boy, Billy Costa, played by Charlie Rowe) that miss the mark, that fail to convey the inherent wrongness of the situation, given the norms of Lyra’s world.
And in a slightly similar vein, there is also a distinct lack of flourish in presenting us with the on-screen wonders we see. Yes, airships and the like are commonplace to that world, but they’re new to us (and to young Lyra as well, who is the audience’s proxy, after all), and yet most everything is treated as if it’s something we see everyday, as if it were as pedestrian as an apple in a dining table centerpiece.
Our first view of Scoresby’s ride is one such missed opportunity for a stirring money shot. And the climactic battle is frankly a disappointing sight as well.

Another shortcoming that bothers me is that Weitz never truly captures the deep ramifications of a life where one’s soul has a physical form outside of one’s own body. The intricate and intimate link between character and daemon doesn’t come across in any real and vital way. All we know for sure is that daemon and person feel the same thing, so if one dies, so does the other one (in the daemon’s case, in a burst of glittery CGI fairy dust).
Save for Lyra and Mrs. Coulter, we never quite get a proper sense of other characters’ daemons; if memory serves me right, Scoresby’s daemon Hester—voiced by Kathy Bates—actually only gets one line in the film, maybe two. Which seems like a terrible waste of Kathy Bates.
It’s also a terrible waste of the whole concept, when a person’s soul is reduced to a mere bunch of morphing pixels…

Clearly New Line’s shot at kick starting another fantasy franchise, by January 27, 2008, The Golden Compass had grossed a disappointing US total of just over $68 million. Its foreign box office though was a surprising $256 million, fully 78.8% of the film’s total cumulative box office of $325 million.
And though $325 million is a lot, so was that $180 million budget. Which puts a question mark over how New Line will approach the intended sequel, The Subtle Knife. Hossein Amini (who wrote the screenplays for Shekhar Kapur’s The Four Feathers and Iain Softley’s The Wings of the Dove) had already been tasked to adapt the novel even before Compass hit cinemas, but given that it didn’t perform as well as the studio had hoped, there’s a sense of hesitancy on New Line’s part now.
In light of the recent kiss-and-make up with Peter Jackson, giving a green light for two new Tolkien films (The Hobbit and a bridging film between The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy), New Line may feel even less charitable towards producing the second and third installments of His Dark Materials. Or at the very least be reluctant to throw as much money at it as they did at Compass.
Tolkien, after all, is already an established brand name for the studio, certainly a more reliable cash cow than Pullman (and without all that religious controversy hoo-hah on its coattails).

Still, I do hope New Line pushes through with completing the trilogy, giving them two more opportunities to get the material right. If they could only make more of an effort to get to the emotions and themes that inform the narrative, instead of the surface events that comprise the narrative, they would go a long way to justifying—and ultimately humanizing—all that expensive CGI so proudly on display.
That’s what His Dark Materials needs: more of its daemon back.

Parting shot: Third Dodgiest Cinematic ‘Do for 2007 (after Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men and Sacha Baron Cohen in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, both of which have reviews in the Archive): Simon McBurney, whose Magisterium meany Fra Pavel has a mop that looks like the hideous collision between a Trump comb-over and a Third Reich ‘cut.
See, kids? Bad guy = bad hair.
Thus endeth the lesson.

(The Golden Compass OS and images courtesy of aintitcool.com.)

DEXTER
Season 2 Episode 9
‘Resistance Is Futile’
Written by Melissa Rosenberg
Directed by Marcos Siega
(WARNING: SPOILERS)

Let’s run through the subplots first.
Deb and Lundy are indeed getting it on now, as we actually see them in a post-coital snuggle. And in some post-coital pillow talk, Lundy is all for full disclosure at the station, which Deb isn’t so crazy about.
Deb however, blurts it all out to LaGuerta (with Angel in earshot), when LaGuerta starts to pressure Deb to convince Doakes to hold off on announcing the identity of the Bay Harbor Butcher case’s primary suspect (see below).

Rita meanwhile, gives Dex a call, admitting that she still has feelings for Dex, and oh, by the way, the kids miss him too.
After Dex has assured her that the Lila experiment is so over, Rita suggests a sit-down talk, and Dex agrees, so a date is set.

And having mentioned the gross, English titty vampire, she shows up at the station, having called Angel up about the “decorating” job. Dex has a word with Lila, but she still wants to help Dex carry the weight of his mask.
At the station, Dex tries to warn Angel that Lila is just using him, but Angel’s only too willing to be used at the moment, still reeling as he is from the divorce.

Now to the meat…

So Doakes’ abrupt departure from Lundy’s office puts him on the FBI superstar’s radar, and all the background poop on Doakes points glaringly in his direction as being the Bay Harbor Butcher: military background, abusive father was a butcher, the two recent on-the-job shootings.
Circumstantial, yes, but when a search warrant is taken out on his a$$, Lundy’s boys find the box of blood slides he nicked from Dex’s place in the trunk of Doakes’ car.
As if doing Dex a favour, Doakes left the damning evidence in his car, which he left at the airport, since he took a quick flight to Haiti, to help arrange some discreet analysis of the slides.

With a primary suspect in Doakes, and aware of the friction that has always been present between Doakes and Dex, Lundy arranges to have Dex put under protective custody (and ironically, have him be lead investigator on the analysis on the slides).
While the forensics work on the slides allows Dex to further cover his tracks and eliminate anything that may point back to him, the hovering FBI goons make it difficult for Dex to get back to the cabin to clean Jimenez up.
But Dex is resourceful, and manages to ditch them and get to the cabin, but even as he’s taking out the body parts, Doakes shows up, having tracked Dex there via his boat’s GPS. Doakes keeps a gun trained on Dex and gets him in handcuffs, but Dex goes for it, managing to lay Doakes out by cutting off his oxygen with the cuffs’ chain (though not before Dex catches a bullet in his leg).
This episode’s great cliffhanger has Doakes locked inside the cabin, while screaming at Dex, “You’re gonna have to kill me, Morgan!”

So the plot rushes along rather nicely towards season’s end, and there are some great scenes in this one, from seeing the tender emotions that lie between Deb and Lundy, to LaGuerta’s phone call with Doakes, and the very apparent desperation that grips her as she continues to protect Doakes even after all the fit has hit the shan.
There’s also the great face-off between Doakes and Dex, and that nail-biting cliffhanger.

What’s Dex to do? He’s in a prime position now to pin everything on Doakes, but he has to ensure everything will fall perfectly into place when Lundy comes in to eyeball the mess.
And of course, if Dex does frame Doakes, he will have to off the angry black man…
Let’s face it, Dex framed Paul, but he didn’t kill him. What’s killing Doakes gonna do to Harry’s Code? Doakes isn’t a murderous piece of scum like Dex’s usual victims, but then again, Harry’s # 1 rule was “Don’t get caught.”
So, what’s Dex to do?

(Image courtesy of sho.com.)

reVIEW (36)
THE DOOM GENERATION

The following was originally published on November 4, 1996, as one half of “Apocalypses,” a look at pieces of popular culture as the turn of the millennium approached. So this review will be properly received in the context in which it was presented, I opted to run the introduction to “Apocalypses” first, before getting to the review proper.
So, without any further ado…

We’re at the tail end of 1996, and there are about 38 months left in this millennium.* These are the end times, the final days, when culture and society become gripped with the fear of the unknown being right around the next corner.
Anyone can see that these are dark and turbulent times, the chaotic undertows of countercultures and splinter religions coursing through the already overflowing tributaries of the global village.
Technology is on the fast lane on the autobahn of progress, taking white-hot leaps forward in a stutter-skip flurry towards some as yet unseen destination. Industry rampages on, crime rates rise. According to WHO, the current worldwide estimate of 14 million AIDS-afflicted people could rise to as much as 40 million by the year 2000.
Dark and turbulent times, indeed.
And, as works of art are wont to mirror the times in which they were created, then it is safe to say that they are as much a valid mirror in which to view the events shaping the world, as the events themselves.

Thus, I have decided to share the millennium fever with you, children, through a close look at Gregg Araki’s The Doom Generation, a film informed by the impending change promised by a new era, and the effects of the expectancy of that change on mankind.
To dispel any misconceptions though, this isn’t part of a doom-and-gloom countdown to Armageddon 2000. This is just an interesting way to spend the remaining days of the second millennium, glimpsing the world through the eyes of one of its visionaries, sharing in the glory and the squalor of the sights he sees.
We are among the privileged few, to have the honour of bearing witness to the end of one millennium and the birth of a new one. These are days we should never forget.
And for those of you who’d rather bury your heads in the sand, think on this—no matter how many Disney feel-good movies you see, the big 2K will arrive. And whatever may happen when we turn that pivotal corner, one thing is certain: there will be changes.
These are the final days, children.
Enjoy them while you still can.


“The world sucks.”
-- Amy

The Doom Generation opens with strobic, staccato shots of clubbing kids, with Trent Reznor roaring out “Heresy” (“If there is a Hell, I’ll see you there…”) over the audio track.
Thus begins this bizarre road movie by way of David Lynch, and quite possibly, George Romero. And if that description isn’t enough to grab you, it’s also got a biting soundtrack to kill for.
As Xavier Red (Johnathon Schaech), Jordan White (James Duval), and Amy Blue (Rose McGowan) move from one motel to another, from one convenience store to the next, from one mistaken identity to another, they are accompanied by the slamming sounds of the likes of Front 242, Belly, The Verve, The Cocteau Twins, Lush, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Bigod 20, Medicine, God Lives Underwater, Pizzicato Five, Slowdive, Aphex Twin, Love and Rockets, Meat Beat Manifesto, and MC 900 Ft. Jesus. (All of Skinny Puppy even appear as the group of goons beating up on Xavier during the first few minutes of the film.)
This party is definitely happening.

A wicked study of today’s American youth and their place (or lack thereof) in these end times, writer/director Gregg Araki exposes the inevitably pointless existence of the trio—and by extension, America’s youth—by making them travel through a whacked-out panorama of surreal situations and characters. (According to the end credits, the film was “photographed on location in Hell.”)
The world of The Doom Generation is one where there are Headless Horseman Motels and fast food joints called Carnoburger, where getting stuck in traffic is likened to being “a gerbil smothering in Richard Gere’s butthole” and sex is “kinda like eating spaghetti.”
It is a world of the absurd and the ultraviolent, where swords get stuck in people’s crotches and characters beat their meat and do funky things with their jism.
Sounds a lot like the real world, doesn’t it? And in a certain sense, it is.
Filtered through the eye of Araki though, it becomes something far more than that. It becomes a gonzo hyperreality of cartoon violence (one-upping both Natural Born Killers and the news report in From Dusk Till Dawn) and incessant sex.
As the film’s tagline goes, “Sex. Violence. Whatever.”
Truer words were never spoken.

Though the journey Araki takes us on is, ultimately, a grim one, there are still plenty of laughs along the way.
There are all the doomsayer slogans that we see, from THE RAPTURE IS COMING to PREPARE FOR THE APOCALYPSE, that, considering the trio’s situation, become the sharpest of visual barbs.
Then there’s the running Number of the Beast gag, delivered by such familiar faces as Dustin Nguyen (with the unlikely name of Win Cock Suk), Perry Farrell (of Jane’s Addiction and Porno For Pyros), and infamous Hollywood madame, Heidi Fleiss.
Clearly, there are laughs in this film—for those with the sense of humour to hack it.

“Scooter was so sad all the time. Me and him used to sit in my room getting stoned listening to The Smiths. Like he was over, the night before he killed himself. Right in the middle of “Unloveable,” he just started crying like crazy.
“He was really into The Smiths.”
-- Jordan

Repeatedly, we are reminded that the three principals of the film are directionless, lost and constantly in search of their proper place in the scheme of things.
And in Amy’s case, her predicament can at least be partially blamed on her upbringing, her mother being both an addict and a Scientologist, while her father, before he died, would try in vain to molest her.
Here is a picture of the youth who don’t see any point in all that existentialist crap because, for them, existence is a whole load of steaming excrement in the first place.
When asked if they ever wondered why they exist, Xavier replies, “No. What for?” while Amy answers breathlessly, “I’m supposed to come, can we talk about this later?”

There is one telling scene in the film, indicating just how far we’ve come down the road as a species, of just how desensitized we’ve become.
It involves an animal, and you’ll know it when you see it.
After inadvertently causing the deaths of six human beings, the three principals are suddenly overcome by grief over the fate of a so-called “lower life form,” and what Araki could be saying here is, no one is truly innocent anymore, save perhaps for those lower life forms, which have no sense of sin.

“’I love you’ can mean a lot of things. Like ‘You’ll do till someone better comes along.’ Or ‘I can’t describe how I really feel but I know I’m supposed to say this.’ Or ‘Shut up. I’m watching TV.’”
-- Jordan

Aside from all that, The Doom Generation is also about relationships, and how mutable they can be in this day and age. This facet of the film is helped along tremendously by the three main performers, who quite ably fill the shoes of their respective roles.
Duval’s Jordan makes a perfect parody of Keanu Reeves, and surprisingly, comes across as the most sensible and loving—the most human—of the three principals.
Schaech’s Xavier, the mysterious stranger who falls into the lives of Amy and Jordan, is brilliant as the source of tension. Exuding an interesting air of bisexuality, Schaech goes a long way in keeping the character exchanges interesting.
Finally, McGowan’s Amy (a.k.a. Sunshine, Kitten, and Bambi) does a commendable job of playing the in-betweener, professing to love Jordan and yet tantalized by Xavier, despite her vocal protestations.


“I saw it on TV, so it’s gotta be true.”
-- Xavier

All wrapped up and ready for take-out, The Doom Generation is a rollicking ride through a Hell that looks uncomfortably too similar to the world we all call home.
Quite possibly just as caustic a portrayal of American youth as Kids, The Doom Generation is partially clothed in the cerements of black humour and absurdist storytelling, making it, arguably, a more entertaining film, something you’d possibly look forward to watching again (unlike the hard-hitting quasi-doc style adopted by Kids, which makes one flinch and squirm as the scenes flicker across the screen).
But don’t let my use of the word “entertaining” fool you. There are still some jarring sequences in The Doom Generation, among them, one which juxtaposes two traditionally revered ideas (country and religion) with violent sex; the latter juxtaposition upping the ante started by William Friedkin way back in The Exorcist.

And following in the grand tradition of the non-sequitur final line (done so well by Soderbergh in sex, lies and videotape), we have the final line of dialogue uttered by Xavier, that, in light of the scene preceding it, becomes laughable and horribly absurd.
Just like a lot of the phenomenon we call “life.”

So if this sounds like it’s up your alley, hunt that DVD down. Preferably the unrated version.
And if they don’t have it in stock, well, like Amy said, “The world sucks.” Take a number, pal.

* I know very well, of course, that technically, the end of the second millennium is the year 2000, the turn of the millennium occurring on December 31, 2000.
But everyone got hung up on that 1999-2000 turnover, I didn’t want to disappoint them…

(The Doom Generation OS courtesy of impawards.com; DVD cover art for various editions courtesy of amazon.com and amazon.co.uk.)

(The above is a slightly altered portion of “Apocalypses,” originally published in November, 1996. Much love and thanx to Karen, for letting the little bugger play in her sandbox.)

REPRISE
(Review)

Joachim Trier’s Reprise is a Norwegian film about two best friends and aspiring writers, Phillip Reisnes (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik Hoiaas (Espen Klouman Hoiner) and their intended debut novels, Fantombilder (Phantom Images) and Prosopopeia.
The film kicks off with the pair in that dreadful instant of anxiety, right before the manuscript is sent off into the harsh brutal world of publishers and editors, and follows Phillip and Erik as their friendship and personal lives are warped and impacted by the vagaries of fortune and life.

There is a lot in the script (by Madeleine Fant and Aslaug Konradsdottir) that captures the writer’s experience, from the adoration and hero worship of an older writer who has shaped their creative sensibilities—in Phillip and Erik’s case, Sten Egil Dahl, played by Sigmund Saeverud—to finding the right spot for that first novel on already crowded bookshelves, to that scathing first review; moments and feelings common to those who live by the pen.
With a bemused understanding that never devolves into melodramatic sentimentality, Reprise touches on the writer’s life, on the pervasive uncertainty of it all, and the delicate, underlying hope that informs the myriad possibilities that branch out from a single moment. The fractured, non-linear nature of the narrative not only reinforces that notion, it also suggests the fragile quality of the mental state while in the grip of creativity.

And while Reprise also features other characters—the writers are part of a group of five, and the pair each have girlfriends—the film is still very focused on Phillip’s and Erik’s lives and their relationship.
This is where Trier’s film goes beyond the writer’s sphere, as it charts the flux of time and life and possibilities.
Fortunately, the cast, notably Lie and Hoiner, submit understated, naturalistic performances that capture the script’s emotions without overblowing them into weepy Hollywood Moments.
There is also a delicate uncertainty regarding the film’s denoeument and a suddenness to its ending that, paradoxically, only reinforces the whole, capping off a fascinating and moving look at a life lived in service to the word.

Apologies if I’m waxing a little too poetic about Reprise, but of course, it’s because I’m a writer myself, so I know where this story is coming from.
Alternately though, one must consider that since I am a writer, I’d be predisposed to be more exacting with Reprise than I would be with, say, a film about an accountant or a plumber. The fact that Trier and company not only meet my expectations, but also manage to take me on a journey where the next turn—and the eventual destination—is never quite predictable (always a massive plus), makes this a film I heartily recommend.
And since Reprise steers well clear of the Hallmark school of schmaltzy sentimentality, has the wit to have fun with its subject matter without making fun of it, and gets to sneak in some Joy Division and New Order, well, that just seals the deal for me.

(Reprise UK quad courtesy of impawards.com.)

HALLOWEEN (2007)
(Review)

I wish this were as simple as “Man, this sucks the original’s a$$!” or “Dude, this so kicks Carpenter in the nuts!” Either option would have meant a far less complicated review to write.

Right from the film’s opening though, which gives us an intimate account of life in the Myers home (stripper mom, deadbeat stepfather, slut sister), it’s clear that Rob Zombie’s reimagining of John Carpenter’s Halloween aims to be a different animal than its predecessor.
So harrowing is the environment, that we can clearly see anyone who was raised there would quite possibly go, at worst, fantastically insane, or at best, require decades of therapy; there’s certainly no fun in the dysfunction here.
With this section bleeding into Michael’s incarceration in Smith’s Grove and his psychiatric treatment under Samuel Loomis (this time out played by Malcolm McDowell), Zombie’s Halloween is as much about the tragedy of the Myers family and the relationship between Loomis and Michael, as it is about Michael’s eventual return to Haddonfield and his reunion with baby sister Laurie (this time out played by Scout Taylor-Compton from Wicked Little Things).

This is where Zombie’s version is quite possibly the strongest.
Though one could argue that this section demystifies the horror icon, the fact remains that this is territory Carpenter did not chart in his original, so this was clearly Zombie’s opportunity to deliver to the modern audience a vision that would not have the shadow of John Carpenter falling so heavily upon it.
And Zombie makes the most of it, crafting a riveting and frankly unsettling portrait of a psychopath in the making, a maniac who goes into a silent, fifteen year hibernation, and comes out the other end as the man who was Sabretooth, Tyler Mane.
Mane, of course, is a towering physical presence, so his Michael is a looming monolith of sinister intent. And though I initially felt irked at the early reveal of the Shatner Halloween mask, the payoff is rather effective, as is the mask fetish, which serves to hide his self-professed “ugliness.”

At around the same time as said payoff occurs, we are introduced to this Halloween’s Laurie, and it’s around this time that Zombie’s ride begins to sputter.
It’s not that Taylor-Compton is necessarily a bad actress, it’s just that this Laurie isn’t the Laurie that made such an impression nearly three decades ago. This is not Jamie Lee Curtis.
This Laurie has more of a sense of humour, this Laurie feels like less of a nerd, this Laurie feels less haunted.
And it’s not as simple as this Laurie doesn’t feel like Laurie either, but rather that this Laurie doesn’t seem as interesting as Curtis’ Laurie; this one seems a lot more ordinary.
And to be completely fair, it isn’t all Taylor-Compton’s fault, as, unlike Carpenter’s Halloween, which focused largely on that specific Halloween night, in Zombie’s redux, we have that pre-Haddonfield section that takes up a substantial portion of the film’s running time, so we don’t really get to spend all our time with Laurie and her friends.

On the plus side though, the performances by Kristina Klebe and Danielle Harris as Lynda and Annie, respectively, are better than the originals. (I’ve never made it a secret that I feel the one laughable element of Carpenter’s original is Nancy Loomis’ “performance” as Annie, so seeing Harris take on the role was honestly a high point of this version. It’s also a nice bit of casting, as Harris is a Halloween alum, having appeared as Michael’s niece Jaime in Halloweens 4 and 5.)
Ironically, as much as Taylor-Compton’s Laurie makes less of an impact than the original’s, Annie and Lynda here feel slightly more real than their earlier counterparts.
Regardless though, the characters just aren’t interesting or involving enough to warrant our attention or invested sympathy.

Another problem of the latter portion of Zombie’s take is that it’s certainly not as rife with tension as the original. It does, however, come alive when Laurie and Lindsey (Jenny Gregg Stewart, who can certainly scream up a storm) discover the bloody mess Michael’s left Annie and Paul (Max Van Ville; Big Momma’s House 2) in.
And when I say “come alive,” it does in a rather loud and shrill way, as everyone seems to start screaming their fool heads off at this point.

And though Zombie takes an interesting tack with Michael’s initial intent regarding Laurie, the film’s climax deteriorates into a lengthy, dragging sequence where Taylor-Compton is made to suffer for her paycheck, as Laurie’s mental and physical health are pummeled to a messy, quivering pulp.
Ultimately, it’s this Haddonfield section that left me terribly dissatisfied. Despite some potentially intriguing beats and the curious sense of pathos Zombie manages to invest his Michael with, the section that comprises “the night he came home” just doesn’t feel very solid.
Also, as much as I love Malcolm McDowell, the classic Loomis lines were just a whole lot weightier when Donald Pleasance was spouting them. (As much as this version allowing us to get to know Michael a little more was interesting for me, getting to know Dr. Loomis more wasn’t, as we see that not only is he a horrible writer, but he seemed rather all-too-willing to make a quick buck off his decade and a half with Michael.)

And while key riffs from Carpenter’s original score—including of course, the signature theme—are intact and used to good effect throughout the film, the blood and gore here is a veritable tsunami compared to the suspense over violence approach of the original. Additionally, the viciousness with which characters are dispatched, is only offset by the depiction of a great many of them as filthy, horny, potty-mouthed miscreants. (I think the nicest characters in Zombie’s Halloween are Laurie’s adoptive parents, played by genre faces Dee Wallace (as it was so famously put in Scream, “E.T.’s mom”) and Pat Skipper (Scully’s brother on The X-Files). Sadly enough though, being nice doesn’t really help them all that much anyway.)

In saying all of that, I believe I’m also saying that Carpenter’s version kicks Zombie’s in the nuts, though honestly, I really don’t think anyone expected otherwise.
Still, that doesn’t totally discount Zombie’s effort.
The intent was there, surely, to give us a Halloween that wasn’t necessarily a retread of the original, to explore different avenues left untravelled by Carpenter, to give us a Halloween that had more of a reason to exist than simply to make some easy money off a previously established brand name.
But somehow, somewhere along the way, in laying down the disquieting dollop of reality in the film’s first half, Zombie defused any inexplicability that may have informed the second half, the way it did so magnificently in the original.
What we have in the end is the uncomfortable and protracted destruction of a family, which takes just over two hours (in the unrated version) to reach its bloody, violent conclusion, far too long and excruciating a journey to make it worth the while.

Parting shot: There are, however, some bright spots: genre stalwarts Udo Kier, Brad Dourif, and the aforementioned Wallace make welcome appearances. This, however, made me both happy and sad; Kier and Dourif are given precious little to do, and Wallace… well… that just got me real upset…
There’s also an interesting appearance by Sybil Danning, who, amusingly enough, starred in a Howling movie (the second and horrible Howling II: …Your Sister Is A Werewolf), just like Wallace (the original and excellent The Howling).

Parting shot 2: Reviews of the original Halloween, Halloween II, and Wicked Little Things can be found in the Archive.

(Halloween OS courtesy of wildaboutmovies.com; images courtesy of shocktillyoudrop.com.)

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA:
RAZOR
(Review)

I’m honestly not sure if I’ve said this ‘round these parts before, but I honestly find it a strange and wonderful thing that the one television show I’m into at the moment that has the most relevance to the post-9/11 world I actually live in is the show that’s not even set on this planet, the show that takes place in the deeps of outer space, which boasts spaceships and killer robots.
I am, of course, talking about Ronald D. Moore’s redux of Battlestar Galactica, and with the fourth and final season on its way, Moore and company decided to produce the feature-length Razor, which was broadcast on the SciFi Channel, then subsequently released on DVD.

Kicking off with a montage of scenes from past BSG episodes which take us from the Galactica’s initial discovery of the ill-fated Battlestar Pegasus, on through the deaths of three of its skippers (Cain, Fisk, and Garner), till it gets Lee Adama at its helm, Razor quickly settles down to its narrative’s “present,” which sees Lee re-organizing the Pegasus under his command.
We then cut back and forth between that present, and Razor’s other main timeframe—ten months earlier, where we witness what Admiral Cain (a thoroughly magnetic Michelle Forbes) had only previously recounted in the BSG episode, “Pegasus”: how the Pegasus survived the initial Cylon surprise attack, and the events on-board in the aftermath of the attack. (There are also brief jaunts to two other timeframes—the first 41 years earlier, where we see the tail end of the Razor webisodes, as a young William Adama stumbles on a Cylon secret; the second depicting an event also mentioned in “Pegasus”—but for the most part, we shuttle back and forth across that 10-month divide.)
Serving as the narrative bridge between those timeframes is Kendra Shaw (Stephanie Chaves-Jacobsen, from TV’s Home and Away), who comes on board the Pegasus on the day of the attack, and through the catastrophic trial-by-fire, becomes a kind of protégé to Cain. Ten months later, she is chosen by Lee to be his X.O.
Given her function as the bridge, Shaw becomes Razor’s main focus, and the means by which the narrative explores its main themes: the difficult choices that are made in times of war, and whether the cold, inhuman mask worn by the military during wartime is indeed a necessary evil.

Despite the narrative focus on Shaw though, we do get to have the father and son Adamas, as well as some Starbuck, some Roslin, and very briefly, some Cylon Sharon.
Razor also gives us back some of Pegasus’ dearly departed, notably, Cylon Gina. One of Razor’s most provocative elements, in fact, revolves around the reason for Cain’s cold and brutal treatment of Gina (as seen in “Pegasus”).
We also get to see some old school toaster Cylons (yahoo!), and that tantalizing climactic reveal regarding Starbuck and her so-called “destiny.” (Of course, admittedly, the source is suspect; this wouldn’t be the first time a Cylon distorted the truth—or outright lied—to confuse and mislead. Still, the claim must give one pause, considering Season 3’s finale shows us Starbuck telling Lee she knows where Earth is, and she can lead the fleet there…)

Now if all this is a bit heady for the uninitiated, yes, Razor may very well be a load of gobbledygook for anyone who’s never seen a BSG episode before. But take my word for it, the show is most definitely about something. This is science fiction with substance, timely and mature, which is a whole lot more than can be said for your average Hollywood SF.
So if you haven’t yet been immersed in the world of BSG, the three previous seasons are all available on DVD, so get on out there, check them out, then catch Razor, so all the above will make sense.
And if you’re already strapped in for the BSG ride, then you know exactly what I mean, and you’ve probably already seen Razor.
And like me, you’re also probably chomping at the bit to see Season 4.
Well, not too long left to go.
Now if only the Lords of Kobol would see fit to have the WGA strike reach a quick and fair resolution, so we can all see those final 20 episodes sooner rather than later.
So say we all.

(Battlestar Galactica: Razor DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com; image courtesy of ew.com.)

PUSHING DAISIES
Season 1 Episode 7
“Smell of Success”
Written by Scott Nimerfro
Directed by Lawrence Trilling
(WARNING: SPOILERS)

So, first off, let me assure you, this episode is by no means an awful one, it’s just that, given its shortcomings, and given that it immediately follows the brilliant “Bitches,” “Smell of Success“ comes off as perhaps one of the weaker installments of Pushing Daisies.
The most significant shortcoming, I suppose, is the whodunit portion.
Involving olfactory expert Napoleon LeNez (It’s All Relative’s Christopher Sieber) and his just-about-to-be-released scratch-‘n-sniff self-help book, Smell of Success, this one is pretty standard stuff that should prove to be no mystery at all for anyone who’s a procedural hound.

It’s a good thing though that the writing still displays those moments of humour and emotion that make Daisies such a constant delight. (Discovering not just about Emerson’s love of Knit Wit, but also about his love of pop-up books, are definite highlights of the episode. And while the absurdity of the whole scratch-‘n-sniff and pop-up literary movements is certainly a hoot, the C.H.U.D. reference is a hoot and a half.)
Then of course, there’s also the introduction of Oscar Vibenius (Pee Wee Herman himself, Paul Reubens), former best friend and current olfactory rival of LeNez, who seems to be meant to be a recurring character from here on out, as he quickly develops a fixation on Chuck, who smells quite unlike anything he’s ever smelled before…

And in the subplot, the Darling Mermaid Darlings finally get back into the water…

Parting shot: Lawrence Trilling, who directed this episode, has produced and directed for shows like Felicity, Invasion, and Alias.

(Images courtesy of pushing-daisies.com.)