review: TRON: LEGACY

SPOILERS!!!!

I see it's been a while. When you get to see only one movie a year out in a theater, you have to choose wisely. The Husband and I, faced with a Morton's fork of HARRY POTTER or TRON, went with TRON, seeing as it was in 3D for three bucks. And frankly, no matter how stinky, you can't beat it for the price.

At lunch/dinner afterward, I had to rehash the plot of the first film to The Husband, because he didn't remember it. It seemed to me a lot of the new film contradicted that first movie. Also, the second movie made no sense. I'm not an idiot, but I don't expect to have to be Neil deGrasse Tyson to go see a three dollar movie. Seriously, isotropic whatchamacallsits? Midi-chlorians what? They had computer programs with DNA. How do computer programs get DNA? Apparently, they appear out of thin air with it. And THIS WILL CHANGE EVERYTHING. How? Why? Hell if I know. Just go with it, okay?

Anyway, here's the deal: Kevin Flynn disappears as video game inventors/billion-dollar-company-running-CEOs/beach bums tend to do. He leaves behind a son from God only knows what groupie hanger-on...WHOOPS his wife. Son grows up a raging loner asshole despite being taken under the wing of the awesome Bruce Boxleitner. There's a page, and the son finds an underground secret office, and gets sucked into TRON WORLD, and there's awesome fighting and DAFT PUNK and lots of crazy Buddha talk and then "Here, give me a hug" and then bike ride and THE END.

And seriously, while watching it, it wasn't that bad. I mean, this movie...if you look up EYE CANDY in the dictionary, there's a picture of the Tron poster right there. It would have sucked so hard missing this one in the theater. Although, boy, was it dark. I've heard this complaint about a lot of 3D movies, and having only ever seen CORALINE and BEOWULF in 3D, both totally animated, I can't compare. But to give you an idea, The Husband and I arrived right after the movie itself started, and we had to use the flashlight feature on his phone to find a seat, it was that dark. The rest of it was BAD ASS, though. Lots of crazy MATRIX-y fighting with slow-motion kicks and guys flying through the air. There was one character who stays masked the whole film, and I thought for sure that it was going to be Ray Park under there, but no, it was some other guy, Anis Cheurfa. They need to get him into more movies kicking ass STAT.

The funny thing was, at one point in the movie, after Sam Flynn finds his dad, Kevin Flynn (and I'm sure this isn't spoiling anything for you), they're eating dinner in the matrix--this huge roast pig--and Sam says, "I have one question..." His dad says, "You want to know why I never came back." The Husband and I were like, uh, no, where the hell'd that pig come from? Did Flynn, who's some omnipotent god-like god guy, just conjure this pig out of thin air? Do they have replicator-type things?

And for that matter, there's a club in the matrix. Do programs go to bars? Do they drink? The Husband said they probably need to do something with their idle time, but this leads me to the problem I have with this whole thing in general:

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD?

Am I to believe that the matrix is populated with copies of Windows 7 and Java and Firefox 3.6, and they go to work like we do, sitting in cubicles while I'm typing up this review, thinking, "Fucking users, calling me into work at 8pm on a Sunday when I could be illegally patching into a stream of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition." And then when I'm done and I publish this post and then turn off my computer, they all go, whew, finally, and take the solar sailer home or to the club where they hook up with their mates Flash and Shockwave and make googlie eyes at the cute little script in the corner: "Did your user code you as non-interactive, because you've been running in my background all night long."

And also, Flynn has the power to make pupu platters appear out of thin air. Why didn't he just use the power of his mind to fuck some shit up once he realized he was stuck in the matrix? Seriously, everyone calls him THE CREATOR of everything: he walks into a bar and raises the ambient lighting with the power of his mind. Everyone bows as he walks past. Multiple times in the movie, he makes stuff happen by waving his hands around and willing it to be, and you tell me for TWENTY YEARS he sat on his hands? DURING A GENOCIDE, where all the DNA-infused programs are wiped out?!?!? And it seems like all this came to pass because he'd at some point adopted a pacifist attitude. And he felt guilty because he was able to come to some realization about himself that the program he'd modeled on himself would never know. So the whole movie becomes about Flynn's quest to apologize to "himself" for his overly naive and idealistic dreams of youth. Or whatever.

Which leads again back to my problem with the movie. According to the original movie (and please, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong), the matrix already existed when Flynn was sucked into it. The whole reason he was in Encom was to break into the mainframe to locate his CLU program. But in this movie, they make it seem like Flynn went into the matrix and THEN created CLU. Or something. And they were going to make it all better. Or not. Make what better? And he's completely clueless about wifi and stuff. The matrix goes from like five programs to stadiums full of hundreds of thousands of programs. Wouldn't he have guessed what had occurred on the outside? Wouldn't someone have told him? Can't you just plug into an outlet somewhere and download some CNN?

Of course, I would be remiss if I failed to mention The Husband's biggest complaint, which was that Flynn kept saying, "Gnarly," and "Radical," and "Gag me with a spoon." Which was kind of annoying.

But the soundtrack was AMAZING. And the movie made me really want a Ducati motorcycle. So I guess as a marketing vehicle, the movie was five stars.

HEY THERE, LONG TIME, NO SEE

There's nothing like reading old blog posts to make you think, "Wow, I totally don't remember any of that."

THEY STOLE MY IDEA

Many moons ago, I told you about the movie I was going to make, an epic on the scale of Independence Day or anything else with Will Smith in it. You may have thought I was a one-trick pony when it comes to film making, but I have other ideas up my sleeve.

Once upon a time, I lived with a Good Friend who had a crush on Jeff Goldblum. Not having any skills relating to successfully stalking people, we decided that the best way to meet Jeff Goldblum and showcase Good Friend's wonderful personality, startling intellect and charismatic street-smarts would be to write, produce, direct and star in our own movie, which would also somehow involve Jeff Goldblum. So that the meeting and the stupefying could commence unimpeded.

What movie did we come up with? We didn't really have a name for it, but it was a bit of a political thriller/tearful coming-of-age story/breezy romantic comedy/feel-good event of the summer kind of movie. The plot was such:

Good Friend and I star as friends (such a stretch) who, concerned by the thousands of deaths/thousands of debilitating head injuries each year, decide that what needs to happen in the US is for a law to be passed mandating that everyone, from infancy to death, be required by law to wear a helmet. Seat belts alone are not the answer! Helmets while bike riding don't go far enough! What if you slip in the shower? Fall on ice? Tumble down stairs? Get pushed over at an Aerosmith concert? No, the only way to keep Americans safe is mandatory helmets.

Now, the big point I've left out is an important one: these helmets are not just any helmet. See, the helmets Good Friend and I designed have a bump on the front. So the helmet sort of looks like it has a big, bulbous bill on the front. This is so that should you fall forward while wearing your helmet and you land face down in some body of water like a puddle or a small pond or whatnot you will be protected from drowning by the bubble on the front of the helmet. It keeps your face out of the water, you see. This is especially important for babies, because statistics show they apparently are susceptible to drowning. Or so I've heard.

So Good Friend and I start a grassroots campaign that takes us all the way to the hallowed halls of Congress, where we meet with our State Representative Jeff Goldblum, and his intrepid personal assistant Whichever Celebrity I'm Currently In Love With. Lots of comedic hijinks ensue. Everyone falls in love, and everyone else avoids irreversible brain damage. THE END.

So today while surfing the Internet, I discovered that a company has created helmets for babies. And while there isn't a bump on the front to prevent drowning, I'm sure it's on someone's drawing board somewhere.

So I'm putting it here, on the Internet, so that should you see a baby wearing a helmet with a bump on the front to prevent drowning, you'll know where it came from and where to send the royalty check. And also where to let Jeff Goldblum know who he needs to get in touch with if he ever wants free sex. I have Good Friend's number, if he wants it.

BOOYAH

YOU'VE GOT TO FOLLOW YOUR BALLOON

Okay, this is some truly scary, fucked up shit right here. At first, I thought this was an April Fools joke because it was in this month's WIRED next to some famous April Fools jokes. But apparently it's totally true, and no one is reporting it.

HELIUM, IF CONSUMED AT IT'S CURRENT RATE, IS PROJECTED TO RUN OUT IN NINE YEARS.

Can you fucking believe that? NO MORE HELIUM. And apparently you can't just make more of it if you run out, because it's produced over millions of years of radioactive decay.

We're going to RUN OUT of an ELEMENT in NINE YEARS.

What the FUCK?!?!?!

Okay, maybe the article says it'll run out in Texas where they make it in the US, but still.

IS THAT MINE?

There's nothing like working your way through yummy Bob Evans turkey dinner leftovers, only to find a gigantically long hair in the mashed potatoes.

It's probably mine, but still...yuck.

At least the dinner roll wasn't touching it. Mmmm, fluffy dinner roll.

JUMP UP AND DOWN AND CLAP A LOT

I don't know how long this will be online, and I can't figure out how to host it...

Saturday at Comic-con, the entire cast and crew of X-Files made their first ever convention appearance together. I'd joked to The Husband that I was totally going to go, because this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Seriously, David Duchovny AND Gillian Anderson, on stage, together? But unfortunately I forgot all about it and didn't go, hahaha. But someone was nice enough to record the teaser trailer for the new X-Files movie that they apparently showed, and they stuck it on YouTube.

By the way, I totally got chills when Mulder and Scully appeared on screen and everybody started cheering.

Oh, and YAY BILLY CONNOLLY.




ETA: TOO CUTE.

SHE GOT BETTE DAVIS EYES

I'm listening to random stuff while I work on the bindery shipment.

Kim Carnes's "Bette Davis Eyes" just came on.

For some reason, I always thought the line was, "She's precocious, and she knows just what it takes to make a crow blush."

The hell? How did I ever convince myself that that made any kind of sense?

THIS IS A TEST

Today, I've run headlong into the hell that is piracy and Hollywood's life in the dark ages.

(This is going to involve me admitting something I'm incredibly ashamed of, but please don't mock me. Or at least, don't mock me a lot.)

For some bizarre reason, I've been particularly determined to watch EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH. I've seen it before, it's a silly movie. But for some reason I've REALLY wanted to watch it. I've been to two Targets trying to find a copy. And wouldn't you know, they had it on sale, but only in full screen.

So I go on the internets and try to find it streaming somewhere. I'm in the Hulu beta, but there aren't any movies there. It's on iTunes, but I need the newest version. There's an entry on Amazon's download service, but I need their player. Same for CinemaNow. I'm like, ALL I WANT TO DO IS WATCH THE FUCKING MOVIE HOW MANY THINGS DO I HAVE TO DOWNLOAD AND HOW MANY HOOPS MUST I JUMP THROUGH!?!?! Like seriously, I'm willing to pay and everything. Just put it on my computer already.

Argh. I was seriously like, fuck it, I'll go on Pirate Bay and get the fucking thing on Divx. But then I was like, fuck it, I'm not going to prison just cuz I'm desperate for some hot Dane Cook action.

So I'm sitting here waiting for some stuff to finish installing. CinemaNow allows you to burn the movie to DVD and it includes all the same extras that are on the store-bought movie. Plus it has a menu and box art if you want to dress up your disc.

I will let you know how it goes.

If I spend an extra couple of bucks, Dane Cook's ass is in GOOD LUCK CHUCK. But I probably shouldn't press my luck right out of the gate like this.

I'M LAME.

How sad am I that I got REALLY excited when I saw this?



Ahhh, boxes of X-Files magazines...how I wish I had you back.

Okay, not really.

Please, New X-Files Movie, I beg of you...please don't suck.

YOU'RE NOT REALLY THAT SPECIAL

Truer words were never spoken.

I could have written this. I wish I had written this.

Heh, Duran Duran novels. Fan Fiction of the 80s. I'll admit to having written more than a couple.

See, fan fiction's always been around. And back then, we didn't even bother Mary Sue-ing ourselves. We were the story, BAY-BEE!

IT'S SUCH A SHAME

So here's my final verdict:

Red Carpet Massacre is two totally different albums smashed together into a pile of fail. The Timbaland stuff should have been an EP, and everything else is old skool Duran and should have been another EP. Plus, I have Timabland's Shock Value...some of the songs on RCM have harmonies and beats that sound like they were lifted whole cloth from Shock Value. If I had any true intratubes skillz, I would post some examples for you. Timbaland needs to put a sock in it and disappear for a while.

It's disappointing because every single song on Astronaut was great. I get what they were trying to do, but it's the musical equivalent of Batman Returns: there are hints of the amazing album that could have been, but there are way too many characters screwing everything up.

A SERENDIPITOUS DISCOVERY

So today in class we has a kick ass discussion about "pop music."

"We HAS?" WTF?



Anyway, we HAD a kick ass discussion about pop music. It was primarily about this article here, Adorno's On Popular Music, in case you want to follow along.

Anyway, imagine my surprise when I returned to my cubicle at work and found that my PRE-ORDERED DURAN DURAN ALBUM HAD ARRIVED IN THE MAIL!!!!



I have not listened to it yet. Too many distraction here at work. I need my full attention to give it the appreciation it deserves.

i.e. I'm going to wait to listen to it in the car, where I can blast that fucker and annoy The Husband and everyone else on the road.

AWESOME!

YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, YOU FUCKERS

Sources are reporting that the newly green-lit X-Files movie will hit theaters next July 25th.

Someone at Fox must have read my entry.

THANKS CHRIS CARTER!

GOODBYE YELLOW BRICK ROAD

So, it is done.

All my X-Files magazines are off to the recyclers.

You probably could have provided me great wealth on the eBays, dear magazines, but alas I am too lazy.

God damn, we have a lot of shit.

HOW DUMB ARE YOU

I just paid $41.90 to pre-order the new Duran Duran album. It comes with a DVD and a booklet, so it may possibly be worth all the money.

Aw, who the fuck am I kidding?

POP GOES THE WEASEL

My new class is the greatest thing ever. Possibly greater than even Duran Duran.

Last week, while in a Starbucks, throwing back a Café Mocha and pre-reading, I had a rare moment of unbridled clarity that is usually, supposedly, reserved only for those moments when you're high on the Mary Jane. I've had only incredibly unpleasant experiences with The Demon Weed, so I can't really speak from experience. Anyway, my moment evolved thusly:

The homeless man, sitting in the chair across from the front door, hit on me as I came in. I chose to sit far away from him, in a hypo-allergenic, a-little-cleaner-than-the-cloth-chairs leather couch. I was feeling a little bit of nervous anticipation at the thought of my new class. Since it was still a couple of hours before I needed to make my way there, I started in on one of my books. Then came my moment. I read this passage in the introduction, which is about the theory of how people--you and I--interact with things we make and buy

...we make culture and we are made by culture; there is agency and there is structure. It is not enough to celebrate agency; nor is it enough to detail the structure(s) of power; we must always keep in mind the dialectical play between agency and structure, between production and consumption. A consumer, situated in a specific social context, always confronts a "text" in its material existence as a result of particular conditions of production. But in the same way, a "text" is confronted by a consumer, situated in a specific social context, who appropriates a culture, and "produces in use" the range of possible meanings the "text" can be made to bear...

A thing is made, and we recognize it for what it is and we use it. Through our use, we alter what the thing is and the intent of meaning of the creator.

My heart stopped. I'd been kicked in the chest. I read it, and I understood it. And I got teary-eyed in the process.

I understood this! I could reiterate it in my mind into simpler terms! And it all made PERFECT SENSE!!!

I had a second moment when I finally sat down in class. It quickly began to fill with younger Mes. Fat chicks with glasses and ponytails and ironic hipster T-shirts.

My God, I thought, these were Me, back in college. Hell, these were Me NOW. Thirty-five. With my glasses and ponytail and hipster Target T-shirt.

I haven't changed at all. Is this good? Did I discover my true, authentic self (® Oprah) long ago? Or am I stuck in a time warp, living some idealized version of a past Me? Will I always be like this, or will I try to wrest myself from Myself when I reach middle age? Will I ever grow up?

Is this bad? Should I even be doing this?

Does it help or hurt that my face is covered in bug bites that makes me look like I've got really bad acne?

And best of all, the frat boy across the room kept looking at my wedding ring.

The professor said something during that class that made me feel a little better. He said, "You don't need to be ashamed of being a pop culture geek here."

With me, he may come to regret those words.

____ _____ _____ _____ _____


Today's class, though, was the greatest thing ever, and yet at the same time confirmed the worst fears I had about the class.

There's a considerable generational gap. Supposing there's around fifteen years between me and any random classmate, at times it seemed like fifteen million. The poor kids. Talking about Michael Jackson like they knew who the hell he was. To them (at least according to their comments in class), Michael Jackson is a pedophilic freak who spontaneously appeared from the ether around the time they were born. He had that one song everybody liked, Billie Jean.

In my mind, I could hear them adding, You know, that guy my parents liked.

Here's the example given to illustrate the cyclical nature of trends, why people like things a lot for a while and then tend to get bored and abandon them: Like, people really liked Michael Jackson when he started making all that really awesome music and the music companies really pushed him on the radio and stuff, like for Billie Jean, and then they stopped liking him.

HUH? I wanted so badly to say, umm, Jackson Five? Off The Wall? Wait, what?

So, so far it's slow going. There's the girl who inadvertently (or probably not) outed herself as a writer of Harry Potter/Snape slash fan fiction when she tried to describe online fandoms. But I've written X-Files fanfic, so I have no right to call that particular kettle black. There's the lanky kid who randomly yells out things at inappropriate times. There's the frat boy who's apparently trying to get through the quarter without buying or reading the books.

Some things never change.

But I've learned all about how saloons started in 19th century America. And how Shakespeare was instrumental in developing frontier identity in the early American West.

And how Habermas is completely incomprehensible, even in English. He reads like a single, run-on sentence. He's probably like that in the original German.

This weekend, I'll be learning about the culture around romance novels. AWESOME.

But so far, one thing is certain, above all else:

Trying to keep up with a college class AND the new television season was much, MUCH easier back when I didn't also have a full-time job.

Homework sucks.

ITCHY AND SCRATCHY

So I'm having a problem. A REALLY BAD PROBLEM.

Last weekend, I woke up one morning with bug bites all over my face and neck. They were mostly on my jaw and neck, but there was a nice big cluster of them on my right temple. They itched like a motherfucker, and nothing--NOTHING--made the itching any better. I tried all manner of cremes and sprays and soaps and nothing worked. I've pretty much been riding it out for the last week, barely hanging on to my sanity.

Okay, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. BUT IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS!!!

I look like I've had an explosion of acne all over my neck. It's nasty.

The worst is that periodically, my face would go all red and hot and rashy. It would go away after a while, but there's nothing like feeling like you're having a hot flash or something.

So, today, or actually Sunday, it felt like it was finally going away. My face didn't itch at all, my neck wasn't nearly as bad...finally, a respite.

Until this morning. About 1:30am I awoke, and I could swear I felt like I was getting bit on the cheek. And sure enough, I go downstairs to the bathroom, and there's an enormous welt growing on the side of my face. It feels like it's on fire.

Great.

So I run back upstairs, turn on the light, and turn my pillow over. I check the sheets. Nothing. We just CHANGED the sheets, earlier today, BECAUSE OF THIS SORT OF THING. And I'm still getting bit.

Was it a spider? Fleas? BEDBUGS!?!?!? Whatever it is, it's not attacking The Husband. Or if it is, he's not having nearly as bad a reaction to it as I am.

So I'm going back upstairs to wash my face again. I'm going to put some more calamine lotion on. And I'm probably going to stick in The Poseidon Adventure, because I sure as hell ain't getting to sleep now.

Fucking fuck fuck.

BOOKS!!!

So the textbooks for my class are now (supposedly, according to the bookstore website) in and available for purchase!!

Weird, I don't have any of them already. You'd think I'd have been able to READ THE PROFESSOR'S MIND about what books he'd be using for the course. LAME.

But still, in a few hours I will be thismuchcloser to my class!!!



Also, after blowing $75 bucks on books and an extra $2 on a Frappaccino, I will be seeing a sneak preview of Rob Zombie's "re-imagining" of HALLOWEEN. I will most definitely blog about it.


PS BORED!!!

review--WAR

SPOILERS!!!

So if you will recall, a little while ago I posted the trailer to the new Jet Li/Jason Statham movie WAR, which looked like it would totally kick my ass three ways to Sunday and then pee all over my head with its awesomeness.

The Husband and I saw it last night, and there was not much ass-kicking to be had. It was very sad. *frown*

It was one of those days...the work day was ssssssssooooooooo fucking llllllllllllllloooooooonnnnnnnnngggggggg, I swear I thought I'd never get out of there, and then the damn computer kept crashing, and because it crashed, the program I needed was locked and I couldn't get a hold of support, and I got a headache, and it sucked ass. So The Husband suggested a movie, and I suggested a drink (which I never do), but boy did that piña colada hit the spot.

And yes, I like piña coladas, AND getting caught in the rain, especially if it's a thunder storm. But I've not yet ever had the opportunity to make love at midnight in the dunes of a cape, so I will have to get back to you on that.

I had a thought walking to the theater: I've been thinking about booze a lot, lately. Namely, that I want to drink more. I don't drink at all, really. That piña colada was the first alcoholic beverage I'd had in ages. But I think I need to be drunk more. Drinking to excess is sad and pathetic when you're in your twenties, because it's like you're stuck in a college, frat-party-obsessed rut. You drink to excess because it recaptures the glory days of college, when you were drunk all the time and having sex you won't remember in the morning with people you normally wouldn't give the time of day to. Being drunk in your thirties is all about despair and hopelessness. That seems like a much better reason to me.

Also, The Friend Naladahc has always wanted to be a heroin addict. We could totally be the "Midwest's Fat, Ugly Paris and Nicole." It'd be AWESOME.

Anyway, usually, we procure our tickets BEFORE dinner, so we can take our time and not have to worry about the lines and whatnot, but this time we didn't bother, and unfortunately it wasn't like we needed to fret about it. There was barely anyone there, even at seven on a Friday night. It wasn't like they missed much.

See, WAR is about this guy, Crawford (Jason Statham), who's on Asian gang watch for the FBI. At the beginning of the movie, he's nearly killed by this shadowy contract killer, Rogue, but his partner "kills" Rogue, and everyone lives happily ever after. Except Tom really didn't kill Rogue--he just gave him a flesh wound, apparently--and Rogue comes back and slaughters Tom and his family.

The movie picks up three years later, and Crawford's not doing so well. He's lost his family to his obsessive need to avenge Tom. Luckily for him, Rogue's back, and he's kicking ass and taking names. Actually, Rogue (Jet Li) is working for the Yakuza, killing off Triads. Except when he's working for the Triads, killing off Yakuza. Most of the movie is about Rogue's delicate juggling act involving the flaming bowling pins of Japanese and Chinese gangs, all the while hula-hooping Crawford around his outstretched ankle.

And here's the FAIL: all this double-crossing makes NO SENSE, none, until the very end of the movie. Literally ten minutes before the credits roll, Rogue reveals that he is, in fact, Tom, who miraculously survived the real Rogue's attack, killing him and taking his shadowy identity. The whole film has been about Tom exacting revenge against the mob boss who ordered his death. The mob boss then reveals that his information as to Tom's whereabouts came from Crawford, who was working for him the whole time.

And THEN, with five minutes to go, we FINALLY get the Jet Li/Jason Statham ass-kicking, which lasts two minutes, and you can't really see any of it because it's dark and the camera's flailing around like the guy holding it's having a seizure, and then Tom kills Crawford and he drives off into the sunset and THE END.

Holy crap. What a piece of shit. What a total letdown.

First of all, it's never established that a mob boss ordered Tom to be killed. Ever. I assumed (and I believe the total lack of evidence otherwise supports this contention) that Rogue killed Tom and his family because Tom shot him in the face and that pissed him the hell off.

So now Crawford's three years of anger is because Crawford wasn't there to stop Tom's death, and the guilt that he wasn't there and didn't check harder to make sure Rogue was really dead. And the whole film, Gangland's going to total hell and Crawford doesn't give a rat's ass, because he's far more concerned with getting Rogue and killing the son-of-a-bitch. But, of course, he doesn't REALLY not care, because he's good enough at his job to actually DO his job while also engaging in a vendetta. So he's out for revenge, but only sort of.

And Tom (as Rogue) isn't REALLY a cold-blooded killer, even though he's spent the whole movie chopping people's heads off, because he spares the lives of the wife and child of the big mob boss (SEE, UNLIKE HOW HIS FAMILY'S KILLED, GET IT, HUH, HUH?), although since at that point you don't know he's really Tom, you totally think (as I did) that he spared their lives because there was going to be this big reveal at the end about how Rogue has cancer and is dying and is killing all the people who wronged him but he can't kill people who haven't done anything to him because it's all a last-ditch effort to redeem himself before he goes out in a blazing gun battle with the Feds.

That would have been awesome, but I didn't write this movie.

If this blog was actually read by more people than just my mother, I would probably get a lot of comments about how YOU JUST DIDN'T GET THE MOVIE AT ALL AND NOW YR ANGRY BECAUSE YR SO STOOPID THAT U DIDN'T GET IT JET LI YAY. But seriously, it's not about that at all. I enjoy movies with twists, and I don't mind it if I NEVER SAW IT COMING. Sometimes I don't mind if I saw it coming a mile away.

HOWEVER, the problem with this movie isn't the twist itself. The problem is that this movie COULD HAVE BEEN THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER MADE

HAD THE TWIST COME AT THE BEGINNING OF THE MOVIE.

Let me explain.

The Husband and I discussed this after the movie. The problem with movies today (one of myriad problems) is that filmmakers seem to think that it's impossible to tell a story to the audience without the characters finding out about it. But see, Filmmakers, characters AREN'T REAL. They are IMAGINARY. The actors playing them are REAL PEOPLE, but the characters ARE NOT. So for example, if you show Jet Li getting a face transplant in Mexico to the people in the audience, Jason Statham will only know about it because he's read the script. His character's not going to know unless you want him to. He's not in a theater watching the movie, and then he's going to jump into the screen with his newfound magical knowledge and screw up the plot for you. And Jet Li's not actually getting a face transplant. Although in real life I guess he could if he really wanted to.

The point is, you can SHOW ME Tom fighting Rogue at the beginning of the film. You can SHOW ME Crawford telling his mob boss where Tom lives. And guess what? NEITHER OF THE CHARACTERS ARE GOING TO BE THE WISER. They can still go through the entire movie ignorant of the other's true identity. But now what I know this information, it adds another layer of depth to the characters and their motivations and interactions that wasn't there before. And it makes for a more interesting and engaging movie. And I don't have to sit in a theater with the ushers cleaning up popcorn, wondering what the hell just happened in the last two seconds of your movie, because all I know was that when there should have been two guys getting the shit beaten out of them, they instead talk and share feelings and then all of a sudden one of them's shot to death, THE END.

Or how about this: you can also show me Crawford being eaten up by the fact that he thinks his best friend's going to get the shit kicked out him by the mob boss's henchment, which then segues into his horrified realization that he's responsible for his friend's death. NOW we understand his obsession with killing Rogue, and the true reason for the disintegration of his marriage (Hell, what if his wife knew about all this? THAT'D be something to see!). Instead, it's all a couple of throwaway lines at the end of the movie!

Imagine what this movie COULD have been! Early in the film, Crawford discovers Tom's alive. Not only that, but that Tom is the man he's been actively hunting down for THREE YEARS! The internal conflict! I should be thrilled Tom's alive! But now he's a cold-blooded killer! And he's probably now after ME! But I'm not the same man I was three years ago! I've been wracked with guilt! How do I tell him?!

And Tom discovers that Crawford's the one who was the mole who ruined their cases and sent a man to kill his family. But he was my best friend! How could he do that?! What if he was coerced?! How could the bastard do it?! Now look at the man I've become! Because of him!

And then much ass-kicking can STILL COMMENCE!! You don't have to sacrifice any violence. In fact, you're guaranteed to TRIPLE the Li/Statham ass-kicking quota!! And at the same time, BOTH CHARACTERS spend the ENTIRE MOVIE undergoing CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, CONFLICT, and perhaps even REDEMPTION over the course of the movie, again--ALL WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ASS-KICKING.

The WORST part of all this, in the end, is that in the last five minutes of the movie, Jet Li actually got to act. And believe it or not, the man actually CAN act. His movie UNLEASHED is a perfect example of serious acting with character development and growth, with tons of bloodshed and shit getting kicked. And Jet Li was WONDERFUL in it: innocent and child-like and alive with wonder, and ferocious when necessary. And Statham's really good in what he does, but here all he got to do was scream at people (because he's angry, see?).

I know, I expected too much. The trailer was SO GOOD. So much stuff blowing up. So many heads caved in. And swords. And cars.

The cars were awesome.

As were the swords.

It makes me think of porn. Yeah, it's just a movie with people fucking, but if it had a plot and good dialogue, think of how much BETTER it'd be!!!

I wish for too much.

I'll settle for a Frappuccino with booze in it right about now.