speakeasy(X)

Dear Diary,

Nutri System, Day Seven: Drove to visit the folks for a bit yesterday. On the way, passed a field of cattle. Had brief but powerful internal struggle. Thought seriously about driving off the road, through the fence and right the hell over one of the cows. At which point, would chop a tree down with my teeth, build a fire and cook the entire thing right then and there. Eat it at once. Can imagine farmer’s statement to sheriff: “Damndest thing, Lucas. Saw a fire burning, jumped on the four wheeler and rode out there. Some half-crazed nut case was eating one of my cows. No, no. Not part of it. He was holding the entire thing up like mebbe you would a chicken wing. I drove back, got the shotgun, hurried back over there but he was gone. Nothing left but a pile of bones and the remnants of the fire I reckon he cooked it with.”

Nutri System, Day Eight: I can’t remember my name. What is my name? I should have it somewhere around here on a debit card or something. Help!

Nutri System, Day Nine: It’s actually beginning to get a little easier. Easier is not funny, I know. But the hell with funny right now. I’m trying to lose weight. And not contemplate cattle murder.

Nutri System, Day Ten: I misspoke. I’m planning a hostile takeover of IHOP. Watch the papers.

Some folks I know—as well as I’m certain half a billion comic geeks with nothing but time and broadband on their hands—seem to take umbrage with a certain event at the end of Iron Man. Not the actual end, mind you. The end before that end [Hint: stay past the credits]. Look, I know it doesn’t follow the comics. Say what you will about it, however, I believe it works within the scope of the film. And, as Forrest Gump would have noted, “that’s all I have to say about that there.”

Tonight, I’ll be on a local radio show. 93.7 will be the station. ‘Movie Garage’ is the name of the show. It’s a show about movies, and, well, movies I like so I believe it will be a good time. I’d played poker some months ago with the two fellows who run the show, and apparently said something during the evening that prompted them to invite me to play along.

I think it will be fun. My radio experience amounts to little and just barely more than none. Years ago I had a band called Catfish Blues and we appeared one night on a local radio show. It was fun but, at the time, unnerving. As, at the time, I was wrapped up in making certain I did everything right because of worrying what everyone would think. As you might imagine, I did very little right except playing the guitar, because when I play the guitar is one of the few times I really could give a damn what anyone thinks. I expect this evening to be much more enjoyable because, well, I honestly don’t care. It will be fun, hopefully if all goes well I’ll be back again. If not, well, that was that and I gave it a go.

One of the movies we’ll be discussing is, of course, Iron Man. And I could fill up the entire hour singlehandedly discussing my thoughts about this film. Or, I could hone it down to an extremely fine point which could be communicated in seconds: “Spectacular American Comic-Based Cinema.”

I don’t usually go fanboy on films and see them more than once in a theater. It’s not so much a pride thing as it is a cost issue. It’s damned expensive to be entertained these days. Generally, I find entertainment on the cheap. However, Iron Man is the sort of film I’ll pay the cost to see a second time. And I’ll be, but it’s better the second time. It’s such a whirlwind that one has a tough time digesting every morsel of dialogue (mostly Downey, Jr.’s quips and one-liners). Seeing it the second time, however, let’s one sit back and listen to every line, since one already knows what’s about to happen.

The second time seeing it, I was again taken with Paltrow’s Pepper Potts. Her stance, delivery, demeanor and overall quiet internal resolve shines. It’s another clichéd word, but it fits. She shined.

If they continue making comic book-based films of this quality, I will be happy. Because it will give me something to replace my fascination with horror movies.

Because horror movies are becoming, by and large, well, crap.

I have seen several of them over the last couple of months and, with the exception of one or two, been so disappointed as to wonder whether or not my enjoyment of the macabre is worth it, other than books.

There was ‘Shrooms, which is as bad as you might expect. So bad was it that at times I wondered just how the hell anyone could actually be convinced this was a good idea, even as a straight-to-dvd feature. Hilariously overacted. Think community college Shakespeare, only without an actual story to be ruined. I realized what the supposed ‘twist’ was within ten minutes. From there, it just went downhill. Perhaps it actually requires the ingesting of psychedelic substances to enjoy.

Then, there was The Signal. I couldn’t bring myself to the level of masochism required to finish it.

I’m also irritated by the plagiarism that marks the modern horror movie. Let’s compare notes:

Synopsis for The Signal:

“It’s New Year’s Eve in the city of Terminus and chaos is this year’s resolution. All forms of communication are jammed by an enigmatic transmission that preys on fear and desire, turning everyone in the city to murder and madness.”

Synopsis for Stephen King’s, The Cell:

“As he [Clayton Riddell] prepares to celebrate [landing a business deal], somebody, somewhere, triggers “The Pulse”, a signal sent out over the global cell-phone network which instantly strips any cell-phone user of their reason and humanity, locking them into a merciless homicidal frenzy.

When I went to college, I tried this once or twice. You find an article that’s close to one you’ve got to write. Change up the wording and present the article to the professor, who then busts your hind end for plagiarizing. And there’s no point in even discussing the rampant plagiarizing going on with the Asian-remade-into-American horror market right now.

It’s bad enough The Signal just plain plagiarizes a concept (oh, and yes, the story is told differently than King’s novel. However, this still reminds me of rearranging paragraphs in a plagiarized article) but it doesn’t even do so in decent enough fashion to be forgivable. Like I said, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the entire thing. The acting? Well, think high school Shakespeare, only replace the Shakespeare with a version of Shakespeare written differently, with the narrative changed and the scenes moved around. Imagine that, and you’re pretty close.

Skip those two films. Well, unless being terrified means realizing you spent good money to waste your time, and you like that sort of terror.