Clone Wars -- "Landing at Point Rain" (Ep. 2.5)

-- Believe in yourself or no one else will.

[Remember, you can sign up to join the Clone Wars Project at any time by clicking this link.]

This episode is pretty much just a straight up battle episode. You need those big, epic battles every so often in Star Wars. It's part of what makes Star Wars, Star Wars. As such, the battle is pretty epic. It's a ground assault against the Geonosians and, actually, pretty violent, which I guess is okay because the Geonosians are bugs. The Jedi cut them apart as often as they do droids, but you don't get that kind of treatment when the Jedi are fighting humans or human-like aliens.

To make it even more exciting, you get to watch Palpatine, using reverse psychology, set the Jedi up for a trap. It also leaves him in the clear because, of course, he counselled against their plan of attack.

Fun things in this episode:

"This is another fine mess you've gotten us into." I'm not sure if that's the exact quote, but it's pretty funny to hear Ahsoka giving Anakin the Laurel and Hardy line. R2 and 3PO are absent from the episode, so Ahsoka and Anakin fill in nicely.

Ahsoka and Anakin keep a running count of enemies they've killed and try to outdo each other. I feel quite certain this was modeled on Gimli and Legolas from The Lord of the Rings.

Ki Adi Mundi, while injured, beats both Ahsoka and Anakin.

The only downside to this episode is that they bring Mundi but don't give him much screen time. While he does get more kills than Anakin, you don't see him doing any of it.

If you like a good battle sequence, though, this is a good episode to watch.

Desolation of The Hobbit (a movie review post)

[Warning: This post may (will) contain offensive language and/or concepts, things I don't generally have on my blog. Thinking about it, I should just send this post over to the Beer Guys and let them do it in the way they do best, but, hey, it's my review, so... just be prepared.]

Disclaimer: As I've mentioned before, the main problem with what Jackson has done with The Hobbit stems from his dishonesty about his intentions. If he had said upfront, "I'm going to adapt the book to fit with my version of Middle Earth," there wouldn't be nearly the problem. However, what he said for years, right up to the release of the first movie, was "I am being completely faithful to the book." Either he's just a liar or he's delusional (and, at this point, I'm leaning toward delusional).

The terms "rape" and "childhood" are often used when anyone of my generation talks about the Star Wars prequels. I don't actually feel that way about them. My view has more to do with the fact that Lucas has the right to do whatever he wants to do with his own stuff. It's like if I want to paint my living room in orange and green stripes, you don't get to tell me I should change it. I'm the one that lives in it, and, if I like it, it's no concern of yours. You don't have to come over and see it if you don't want to. And, if my house is full of all the coolest things in the world, which makes you want to come over, you still don't get to complain about the color scheme. That's the price you have to pay to come over and play with my toys.
And, hey, my kids love Jar Jar, as do all of the "Star Wars kids" I know.

However, The Hobbit does not belong to Peter Jackson. What he's done with The Hobbit is like you coming to my house and re-painting my living room in puke green and neon pink. Except, actually, it's more like Peter Jackson bending Bilbo and Tolkien over, reaching up their asses simultaneously, grabbing their intestines, and ripping them out through their assholes. Then he uses the intestines to decorate the room. And, by the way, the stench he creates from that just doesn't go away.

Seriously, I have never seen more disrespect delivered to source material than what Jackson has done in The Desolation of Smaug. With the first movie, An Unexpected Journey, Jackson at least held to some semblance of the story from the book: a group of dwarves seeking to reclaim their homeland from a dragon. However, Jackson wastes no time at all in destroying all of that in the very first moments of Desolation. He does a dance on the bloodied corpse of Bilbo and Tolkien while waving their innards through the air and splattering the walls with their blood.

In The Hobbit, Gandalf is never fully behind the trip to the Lonely Mountain. He's willing to help the dwarves along so that they have a chance of surviving, but he views the whole thing as more of a fool's errand. And (and this is a big "and") he never intends to accompany them on the entire trip. He just happens to be going in the same direction, so to speak, so travels along with them to keep them out of trouble as best as he can while he's there. But Jackson makes the whole venture into a plot by Gandalf. It's not Thorin who decides he wants to retake his homeland; it's Gandalf. And it has nothing to do with "homeland;" it's about finding the Arkenstone and uniting the various dwarven kingdoms under one king so that he can raise an army.

WHAT?

Gandalf wants to raise an army? Why the heck does Gandalf want an army? The implication is that the army is needed to fight The Enemy, but, see, even in Jackson's timeline, no one knows about that yet. The ring has not been found, no one knows the Necromancer is Sauron, there is no great threat to the world. But Gandalf wants an army and sends Thorin into the mountain for the sole reason of retrieving the stone.

And, of course, everyone knows what's going on except Bilbo and the other dwarves. When the dwarves are captured by the elves, Thranduil knows without asking that Thorin is after the Arkenstone. When Bilbo sneaks down to check out Smaug, Smaug already knows that it's Thorin after the Arkenstone. The whole thing is stupid. STUPID. I cannot express how much this whole thing violates the premise and the theme of the book.

And, see, I can't even give a breakdown of where the movie deviates from the book, because it would just take too long. There is virtually nothing from the book in this second movie apart from some characters with the same names.

The worst of it is that when I saw the trailer for the movie and saw the whole barrel thing (which is beyond ludicrous the way Jackson has done it with his "magic" floating barrels (they're not magic) that never fill up with water and sink despite the number of times they go under water), I thought, "Well, that's going to be even more dumb than the domino trees in the first movie," but, really, I thought that would be the worst of it. Just more stupid stuff like that. And the Pale Orc, of course, because Jackson had already started his descent into total depravity; I just didn't realize how far into the sewer he was willing to go. And not just willingly, he's actively swimming in shit and loving it.

Yes, it all makes me mad to think about.

Like I said, there is not time to go through all of the things that makes this movie so horrid, but here are some of the worst:
1. The aforementioned mess with the Arkenstone.
2. Kili doesn't have a beard. A dwarf without a beard? Seriously, what the heck? [And, yes, I suppose he didn't have a beard in Journey, but Kili wasn't highlighted in that one, and, I guess, I just didn't notice, but the whole thing is wrong.]
3. Elf/dwarf romance? Again, seriously, what the heck?
4. The dwarves split up and some stay in Laketown. WHAT THE HECK?
5. There is a huge battle in the mountain between Smaug and the dwarves. WHAT THE DOUBLE HECK?

Did Peter Jackson even read the book? I mean, it's bad enough that Jackson used the spiders as an excuse to feature the elves (just like he did with Helm's Deep in The Two Towers) and Legolas doing spider surfing (what the heck is up with Jackson and elf surfing?), but he's ripped the heart out of The Hobbit, put it in a blender, and... I don't know what. I suppose he drank it. Actually, he reminds me of Gollum singing to that fish in the LotR movies. Singing to the fish and, then, beating it on the rocks. That's what he's done with The Hobbit. Followed by ripping into it with his teeth.

I'd really like to be able to tell how the movie is just as a movie, but I can't do that with this one. The Hobbit has been with me for something like 35 years, and I can't think of it from the position of "What would I think of this if I had never read the book?" What that makes me think of is how Jackson is actually destroying the book for a whole generation of readers. Can you imagine having seen these movies first and then trying to read the book? You'd be wondering where all these other characters are: Radagast, Legolas, Tauriel. Even Azog. This issue, I think, is even worse than the movies. That's saying a lot, because Desolation is like all of the worst things ever mixed into one "worst thing ever" package. And that just doesn't approach the long-term damage Jackson may be doing to kids that want to read the book.

So, yeah, I have no way to independently evaluate this as "just a movie." There is no "just a movie" in this to me. This is the kind of thing that lives in my nightmares as a writer. I mean, we all know that Hollywood can be terrible with intellectual properties and strip mine them just to get at the money. Or, maybe, these days, I should say they frack them for all they're worth. But what Jackson has done to The Hobbit goes so far beyond what typical Hollywood has ever done. And that's where I'll end, because, to go on, I'd have to start making value judgements about Jackson and what he thinks of himself, but I don't actually know the guy. I do not, however, have any "benefit of the doubt" left for him.

You Know You've Made It When...

You know you've made it as an actor when you get turned into a Lego minifigure. I think it used to be when you were turned into any kind of action figure, but, these days, especially after McFarlane Toys came onto the scene in the mid-90s, almost anyone can get turned into an action figure. It ceased to be something difficult to achieve. However, it's still noteworthy to get turned into a minifigure even if minifigures don't look like the actors.

Even more noteworthy? Getting turned into two completely different minifigures. And, yes, okay, this topic completely came out of a conversation with my sons. They have a completely disregard for action figures because, well, all sorts of movies get action figures (or, at least, used to; I suppose that trend has died down somewhat in the last few years), but only the really cool ones get made into Lego.

Of course, this whole conversation started with Harrison Ford.

Star Wars was the first Lego franchise, so you can almost say this all started with him.

That's one of the very first Han Solo minifigures, back when they were still yellow like regular Lego minifigures. Now, they look like this:

And, of course, the second incarnation of Harrison Ford as a minifigure:

There ensued a long "discussion" of what other actors had two different character minifigs. [Don't ask why discussion is in quotes; just accept it.] Here's what we came up with:

Chris Evans:

Johnny Depp:

Samuel Jackson:

Ian McKellen:

Christopher Lee:

Orlando Bloom:

Those are the ones we came up with. Ones that have actual, physical minifigures. There are a few more that have two different characters but one of the minifigures is only in one of the Lego video games.

If you can think of more, let me know!

Nostalgia vs the Transformers (pt 1)

I love the Transformers. I always have. Well, I have since they first came out in 1984. Just the concept of them. I started collecting the toys, right away. Maybe it was just good timing. Star Wars toys were on the way out since the original trilogy was over, and there were Transformers to take their place. Transformers were also responsible for me delving back into the world of comic books, but that's a story for another time. It's not that I loved the comic book series or that I loved the cartoon or even that I loved the toys, I loved  the idea of them. They were just so... cool.

During high school, I had a babysitting job every day after school. It was good money. And, although I was forced to sit through He-Man, I got to watch the Transformers cartoon with the younger of the brothers pretty much of every day. That was great until they made that horrible animated movie in '86 where they jumped forward in time and killed off virtually all of the existing characters. The cartoon series, after the movie, picked up where the movie left off. I hated that movie. It sort of killed everything about the Transformers. I think, really, it was the jump into the future that did it, although killing off all the characters everyone was familiar with couldn't have helped. Well before the end of high school, I had lost interest in the Transformers as a distinct franchise.

Jump forward a bunch of years and my middle child fell in love with Transformers, also. They were his absolute favoritest thing in the whole world for years. Until he discovered Legos. I mean really discovered Legos when they launched the Bionicles. At any rate, I fell in love with the Transformers all over again, albeit vicariously, through my younger boy. It was just so fun to watch him enjoying  them so much.

The boys and I were very excited when Transformers was launched as a movie franchise. In fact, this year, Transformers: Dark of the Moon was the only movie my younger son said he absolutely could not miss. He was willing to sacrifice getting to see anything else in order to see Transformers 3. Well, except, maybe, Cars 2, but he already knew we planned to see that as a family, so he didn't have to choose between the two. Not that he didn't get to see other things, but, if it had come down to it, since we can't take the family to see every movie we'd like to see, that was his pick on what he needed to see this summer.

Nostalgia is a funny thing. Even kids experience it. I remember this one episode of Leave It To Beaver in which a friend of his who had long ago moved away was returning for a visit. There was much anticipation. They planned to do all the things they had so loved doing when they had been younger. He finally arrived, and they went out and did all of those things. At the end of the day, though, they were left sitting on a curb or something in complete disappointment. None of those things had been fun anymore. But the thought of them... the remembrance of them had filled both boys with such wistfulness and enthusiasm.

I think it's nostalgia that's at the heart of the success of the Transformers movies. Especially considering how much they've been slammed by movie critics. The thing with the Transformers is that there isn't just one iteration. Every few years, the entire scope and story gets changed. Within that, though, excluding the aforementioned animated movie in '86, there are two characters that are always at the heart of the show: Optimus Prime and Megatron.  The conflict between these two characters is the driving force behind every Transformers story arc. Sure, there are a few other characters that have been around a while and are frequently included (Bumblebee, Starscream, Iron Hide), but it always revolves around Optimus and Megatron.

With Transformers, Bay evoked just the correct amount of nostalgia while still delivering a new story. It kept those of us that had had some phase of loving Transformers when we were younger realize that we'd grown out of them. Kept us from sitting down on the curb being disappointed. I think this is the reason so many of the other nostalgia type movies have failed; they tried, specifically, to reproduce the original. We all sat down and said, "Wow, that wasn't as good as I remember it being." But Bay didn't do that. He took the core and gave us something new, and all we could say was "Wow!" After Transformers came out back in 2007, my brother actually called me to tell me it was the best movie he'd ever seen. This surprised me because 1. my brother had never really been into the Transformers when we were kids and 2. he said it was the best movie he'd ever seen. I mean, I really enjoyed Transformers; it was probably in my top 5 for 2007 (maybe top 3), but hardly the best movie ever... anyway. The point is is that for my brother, and, I'm guessing, a lot of other people that just had a passing acquaintance with Transformers at some point in their childhood, the movie brought back everything that was important to them: giant robots that could change into vehicles fighting with each other and, specifically, the conflict between Megatron and Optimus Prime. It delivered that "Wow!" moment of it being just like what they remembered as a kid while, actually, being totally different. Making a movie that can do that is pretty genius. [I'm just waiting to see how my brother reacts to The Smurfs, because he loved the Smurfs. Don't tell him I said that.]

Despite the fact that people said they didn't like Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen as much and critics bashed it as the worst movie ever, it must have done its job as well. It outperformed the initial movie both domestically and internationally, so people went to see it no matter what was said about the movie. Maybe it was Devastator. Dark of the Moon, although it hasn't passed the domestic gross (yet) of Revenge of the Fallen, is already the highest grossing of the three films. As a prelude to part 2 of this piece, which will be my review of Dark of the Moon, I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed it, and the 3D was amazing.

On the topic of nostalgia, I think this is where there is a failing, if there is a failing, with the Star Wars prequels. People wanted their sense of nostalgia invoked when The Phantom Menace came out. However, Lucas wasn't going for that. The prequels weren't about delivering movies that would take us back to that same experience of watching Star Wars as when we were kids. And that was good with me. Star Wars never fell into the realm of the nostalgic for me, so I was ready for the new story when it came. Most people, I think, just wanted that feeling of seeing Star Wars they had when they were 10. What they ended up with was sitting on the curb with the Beaver saying, "That wasn't what I remembered." Of course, with the prequels, it wasn't supposed to be. I think if people could just come to grips with that, they would be able to get over their issues with the movie. Maybe even Jar Jar. Like I said, "Nostalgia is a funny thing."

As an added bonus, here are some shots of some of my favorite Transformers from when I was a kid:

Mirage

Sideswipe

Shockwave

Shockwave (my favorite cover from the comics series)

"Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope..." Also, George Lucas Says "Howdy"

This week was the presentation of The Two Towers at Skywalker Ranch. Attendance was down from last week. I'm just going to go off of the assumption that that's because The Fellowship of the Ring is the best of the three movies. It also has the most significant addition of the extended cuts, so the other two don't necessarily have to be viewed that way, although I never choose to watch any of them in their theatrical release. I'm surprised at the number of people showing up that have never seen the extended cuts of these movies or, in some cases, the movies themselves. I guess there has to be a first time, though.

In many ways, I have the most difficulty with The Two Towers as a movie. There are things that are so good. Like the ents. They're perfect. The assault on Isengard is incredible. Faramir and his actor, David Wenham, are great. The return of Gandalf is excellent. And Gollum... well, I'm not sure they actually could have done a better job with Gollum. And, yet... and, yet... almost everything related to the Battle at Helm's Deep causes me to grit my teeth.

Let me put it like this:
You know that part where Legolas surfs down the stairs on the shield as he fires arrow after arrow at the orcs? I'm okay with that. Yes, I am. That bit of foolishness is fun, and, although completely wacky, it comes off as just believable enough. At least, it does for someone who would have actually tried doing that when he was 10 if he had had a shield and a long flight of stairs like that. I can get behind that.

However, the bit at the beginning of the battle when the orcs are charging and Aragorn is telling all the archers to hold their fire? I can't deal with that. It makes me cringe. It is so ridiculous. I get it. Jackson wants the suspense. But it just doesn't work for me.

Let me back up a bit.
There was a video introduction by Jackson. In it he talked about how he'd always wanted to film a big battle scene ever since he was a kid. The Battle at Helm's Deep was his first chance to do that. I suppose, at this point, you can go one of two ways: 1. You can film it like you always imagined it as a child. 2. You can research it and make it as true to life as possible. Jackson went with option 1. There is nothing strategically or tactically sound about this battle. Instead of modeling the battle after the Battle of Agincourt, which would have made emminent sense, he makes it "don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes." With bows and arrows. That not firing thing came from the time period where you had to hand load your gun before each shot, so you had to make your one shot count when the enemy was charging, because you wouldn't get another. When Jackson does it with the arrows, it makes me want to throw things at the screen.

Then there's the whole thing about how no one has ever breached the walls of Helm's Deep, yet the doors are like plywood. The orcs barely hit it with their battering ram, hand-held battering ram, and they just crash open. An impregnable fortress, and the doors just fall apart? Maybe they had dry rot since the last time they'd been there?

Oh, and there's a side door. Yeah, a side door that the orcs don't bother with, and Aragorn and Gimli can conveniently slip out of. What? Seriously?

And don't even get me started on the orc torch bearer with the one and only special torch that can light the bombs under the walls. There are torches everywhere. EVERYWHERE. But we suddenly need this one, special torch to light the bombs? And Legolas suddenly loses his ability to kill any orc he shoots with just one arrow?

The only good thing about the battle is when Gandalf shows up with Eomer. That part is actually perfect. The sun rising behind the charge and Gandalf shining like the point of a spear is an incredible sight. But that's it. The only good moment of the battle.

And there are so few orcs left when they flee into the forest of Fangorn that there's hardly a point. Wait a minute. The men of Rohan were just being slaughtered and, suddenly, there are just a smattering of orcs left to flee into the trees?

Anyway...
With the ranting about Helm's Deep, I may sound like I don't like the movie. That's not true. I do. It's still a great movie, and The Lord of the Rings is probably the best film adaptation ever made. It's just that Fellowship is the best of the three, and I have to try and not think about Helm's Deep.

Oh, and Jackson also revealed that the argument Gollum has with himself while Frodo is sleeping was entirely the responsibility of Fran Walsh. She wrote that scene and directed it, because they didn't have time to do it otherwise. He says he has envy.

But, now, on to the big news:
As I've stated, these are being shown at Skywalker Ranch. The Ranch is, of course, owned by George Lucas. I've been to number of Lucasfilm events at this point, but Lucas hasn't been at any of them. There were rumors that he was going to make an appearance (along with Spielberg and Ford) at the big premiere party they did for Crystal Skull (which I attended), actually, that they had plans to do so, but that didn't happen. They ended up somewhere else. My friend that I go to these things with has, of course, been in meetings with George in attendance, but that's George on a stage giving a presentation with a huge screen behind him so everyone can see him better. It's somewhat akin to watching a special video presentation before a movie by someone like Peter Jackson. Which is to say, it doesn't count.

However...
We got there later for Towers than we arrived for Fellowship last week. We were sort of rushing to get to the theater, although I didn't realize that we were rushing, because that's how we rush, evidently, without looking like it. Or even knowing it. But the theater was still locked. Whoever was supposed to show up to open it all up hadn't arrived, yet. More curious was the fact that, although we were at least 20 minutes later than the week before when the theater was already open and about 1/3 full of people, there was no one else there waiting to get in. There were some people up in the cafeteria area eating, but that didn't mean they were going to the movie. They were, more likely, staff taking a break from whatever sound stage they were working in.

We went back up to hang out in the entry area of the tech building, which houses the theater, until something happened. I could see my friend questioning himself about whether we were there at the correct  time or whatever, but the guard had said "enjoy the film" when he let us in  the gate and, since I was driving, and he didn't recognize me, gave us directions to the tech building (which I already knew, since, as I said, I'd been there before). The building has an... interesting layout. And I haven't even seen the whole thing. But the front portion, at least, has an unconventional design.

Rather than try to explain what the building looks like, I'm just going to tell you what happened:
Walking toward us from a hallway that goes off into the building to the right (and over the theater, because you go down to get to the theater) was George Lucas. It was just a glimpse through an adjoining hallway. There are sound rooms all down that hall, and he passed through the opening through which we saw him fairly quickly. I turned to my friend who said, "Well, he does live here," which is not exactly true, but close enough to count. A moment later, he appeared in the cafeteria area which is a big open area in the center-ish of the building. Now, my friend and I are standing near the front doors. Just off to the right as you come through from the outside, because that's the direction to the theater. My buddy starts trying to act like George is not walking through the same space as us, ducking his head and trying to look like he's deep in conversation with me. I acted as close I could to how I would act if anyone had walked into the room, which is to stay, I looked at him. Just like I would have looked at anyone.

George looked back. And made eye contact. And I did that guy thing, and I nodded to him. And he said, "Howdy." He continued on his way out the front doors and down  the walk. I think he drove off shortly after, but I'm not completely sure that was him in the car that went by a moment later.
I think my friend almost died. My whole response was, "It's a good thing I'm a restrained kind of person." That was when I found out that part of the interview process for working at Lucasfilms, in any of its divisions, are a bunch of questions about what you would do if you ever found yourself in the same room with George. I would have passed. People who own up to the fact that they would wig out and accost him, in whatever manner, do not get hired. So, you know, if you are that kind of person and you ever do have the opportunity to work for Lucas, you should now know how to respond to those questions.

Somehow, during the movie, although I didn't see my friend do it, he told people about what had happened. After the movie, without me saying anything, there were questions from people that my friend works with who have never been that close to George, much less have him speak to them. Including my friend. My kids... well, my kids said bad things about me when I told them what happened. Okay, well, my daughter didn't, but she doesn't quite get that, yet. It's not quite that important to her. She was just kind of oh wow neat while my sons were busy telling me what a jerk I am. Of course, my oldest is mad already that I'm getting to go see these movies down there. I'd take them if I could...

So... there you go. My tendency for saying "howdy" has been justified by knowing that George also greets people that way. And, yes, he was wearing a plaid shirt. Probably flannel.