A Good Day To Die Hard is a great day to walk out of the theater

How can the same shit happen to the same guy five times?

When I saw Live Free or Die Hard (that’s part four for those of you keeping track at home), I had little hope for it. By the time the first action sequence rolled around, I perked up. It actually felt like a Die Hard movie despite the PG-13 rating and downgraded sidekick. Overall, I managed to enjoy it more than part two, which was always my least favorite of the series… until now.

John McClane finds out his estranged son Jack has been arrested in Russia. So, on a New York cop’s salary, he books the first plane to Moscow and takes a couple weeks off work (maybe he smuggled some of that gold from Die Hard with a Vengeance after all?). His daughter (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) drives him to the airport and asks him not to blow anything up while he’s away. McClane does his squint-eyed thing, flies to Russia, and meets a cab driver who would have made a better sidekick than Jack.

McClane is in Russia for five minutes before things explode and a car chase ensues. The car chase is the best action sequence you’re gonna get from this installment. Cars flip and bounce around like Hot Wheels. An armored truck defies the laws of gravity. McClane manages to total two vehicles he’s in and walks away after grunting a bit. I confess I felt a glimmer of hope, but that hope was short lived.

The rest of the action sequences are routine shootouts. McClane and his son Jack do an awful lot of shooting while standing completely still. The bad guys are such bad shots, I was reminded of the Rambo parodies in UHF and Hot Shots Part Deux. I’d like to know why helicopters only fire through windows. The bullets are the size of human fists—do the pilots really think a wall is going to stop them? “Get down!” doesn’t apply when dealing with 40mm cannons.

The biggest problem is Bruce Willis seems to have forgotten we don’t watch Die Hard movies to see Bruce Willis. The main draw of a Die Hard picture is seeing John everyman McClane, the charm of which was forever lost the moment he got into a fist fight with a military jet at the end of the previous film. This just isn’t the same guy who snuck around in ventilation ducts and wrote “Now I have a machine gun HO HO HO” on a dead terrorist’s sweater.

There’s an excruciating yet obligatory subplot in which John and Jack attempt to reconnect despite being the same person. My vocabulary’s usually larger than this, but this is just bad. Whereas the other films were engaging between action sequences, this one stops dead. As for the actor portraying Jack: if they think they can reboot the series with this guy, they’re crazy. This isn’t a Die Hard movie. It’s a generic Bruce Willis action vehicle.

Russia’s meteor event reminded me to finish Deep Impact

The Chelyabinsk meteor tickled me to pieces. Whereas the news had been mirroring dystopic fiction all too often lately, it was a relief to see it mirror doomsday fiction for a change. The event reminded me I had somehow never finished Deep Impact, which I had only seen portions of whenever I was channel surfing. Frankly, the film appeared to be a bore, but where else am I going to find sweet space rock action?

In the interest of transparency: I generally dislike Hollywood disaster movies. The Towering Inferno, Armageddon, The Day After Tomorrow, Earthquake, Twister, The Core, Volcano, Dante’s Peak—all of these productions feel as disastrous as the literal disasters they depict. All you need to make a disaster movie is a weak understanding of natural occurrences, a bunch of technobabble, a handful of crumbling landmarks, and gooey melodrama liberally garnished with hundreds of extras racing down city streets. Other than the visual effects, the genre has not improved at all in nearly fifty years.

In the beginning of Deep Impact, a young boy (Elijah Wood) spots a new object in the sky with a store-bought telescope. Even though the scene reeks of dishonesty, it’s kinda accurate in the sense amateur astronomers still make important contributions to this day. His astronomy club submits the finding to a full-fledged observatory where a stereotypical movie scientist keys the coordinates into his computer and realizes the object is barreling towards our planet. That alone would be exciting, but somehow it leads to a cliff-side car wreck that has the scientist’s vehicle exploding in a Hollywood fireball—in midair no less.

A year later, an investigative reporter played by Téa Leoni thinks she’s gotten the scoop on the Secretary of the Treasury’s mistress, a woman she says is named Ellie. She soon finds out that she misheard “E.L.E.,” which stands for “extinction level event.” Yes, I know the government can be pretty incompetent at times, but that’s like using the code name “U.F.O.” to cover up flying saucers. The President (Morgan Freeman) personally asks the reporter to sit on the scoop until he can announce the news himself. In typical Leoni fashion, she merely shrugs and says, “Okay.”

Two days later, The President reveals to the world that a comet is on a collision course with Earth. He freezes national wages and product prices to prevent profiteering and panic. Then he reveals the plan: scientists are already working on a manned mission that will attempt to destroy the comet with nuclear weaponry. The senior astronaut on the mission, played by Robert Duvall, was the last person to step foot on the moon. The younger astronauts resent him, which is the dumbest thing in the entire movie. I’ll give you a shiny nickel if you can name one person who had the wherewithal to complete astronaut training who doesn’t idolize any of the dozen men who walked on the moon; in Deep Impact, astronauts have the emotional intelligence of high school jocks.

As the ship makes its way to rendezvous with the comet, Leoni’s unbelievable reporter is promoted to an even more unbelievable news anchor. I know some news personalities are known for being a little stiff, but Leoni’s performance could make robots wince. It’s a shame the Earth drama is so hackneyed because the space stuff is excellent. Yes, there’s sound where there should be none and much of the suspense was ruined by the marketing, which clearly spoiled that the mission fails and the comet indeed strikes the planet, but if the space bits had been the entire movie, it could have been a great one.

Predictability aside, the second half is much better than the first. Lesser films show civilization devolving into mass hysteria when faced with possible extinction. Though it’s refreshing that Deep Impact bucks the trend, its characters can still hail a cab within seconds of raising a hand. I’d say maybe society is doing a little too well, all things considered.

Later on, the reporter’s mother says she feels relieved she won’t survive the impact. She even quit smoking and donated some of her more valuable belongings to the government’s effort to preserve antiquities. This was the sole scene which unexpectedly moved me. A lot of armchair philosophers love to talk about how shitty humanity is, but if we were all that bad, we never would have civilized in the first place. This is exactly the stuff I wish more disaster movies had.

Deep Impact is a bit like a newborn calf. There’s a lot of wobbling in the beginning, but eventually it learns to walk… sort of. It’s one of the better disaster movies, but that’s not saying much. If, like me, you found a strong interest in what happened in Russia recently, you should give it a shot.

Old Man’s War is the new man’s military SF

I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday. I visited my wife’s grave. Then I joined the army.

John Perry is an old man from future Ohio who joins the army for a second shot at life. In Old Man’s War, which seems to be equal parts fan fiction and satire of Robert A. Heinlein’s military fiction, members of the armed forces receive benefits unavailable to everyday citizens. If you join the army on your seventy-fifth birthday, you receive the luxury of a new body. Then you’re shuffled off to boot camp on a remote planet where you’re about to discover that the disgusting, evil-looking aliens are actually your allies. (It’s the peaceful looking deer aliens who you’ve gotta watch out for.)

Remember Kick the Can? It was the episode of The Twilight Zone (remade by Steven Spielberg as a segment of the movie version) in which a group of elderly people learn how to be young again. That’s what Old Man’s War reminds me of. It’s as if a large group of seventy-five year olds relive their first day of school on an intergalactic scale. For a long, opening section of the book, it’s whimsical fantasy. In the second section it turns dark, but manages to retain a lot of its charm.

It’s worth noting that Scalzi originally self-published Old Man’s War on his blog, where it became so popular that Tor picked it up. In only a few years, Scalzi went from being a self-published author to the head of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America. Oh, and Paramount optioned Old Man’s War into a movie. Sure, options are a dime a dozen, but I imagine this movie will actually get made if Ender’s Game performs well.

Our Hausu, in the middle of our street

Yesterday I was asked, “What’s the most absurd horror movie you’ve ever seen?” I was surprised how quickly the answer came to me. It was obviously Hausu.

Sure, there’s bound to be more absurd movies that I’ve either forgotten or haven’t seen. But when someone asks questions like that, the person isn’t asking for shitty recommendations. Hausu is as close as you can get to full blown insanity without sacrificing a cohesive and enjoyable experience. It’s fast, it’s funny, and it’s ridiculously out of its mind.

Hausu is among the best times I’ve ever had watching a movie. To this day, I still don’t know exactly what it’s about. To avoid confusing this masterpiece with the numerous other movies called House, I will refer to it as Hausu. Yes, I just called Hausu a masterpiece. It should appeal to anyone with a pulse.

I’d typically mention something about the plot by now. What’s the point? There’s a house. It’s haunted. There’s a cat. It’s crazy. Heads will fly. Literally.

‘Nuff said.

Nightbreed: The Cabal Cut

I haven’t seen Nightbreed in at least a decade, but I saw it a lot and I remember that sometimes I liked it, sometimes I didn’t. If there’s anything my multiple viewings had in common, it was this: the movie is confusing. Said one of my friends, “I love that movie, but it really doesn’t make any sense!”

There’s a reason the theatrical cut doesn’t make a lick of sense: the studio panicked when the film performed poorly for test audiences. The execs ordered several weeks of re-shoots and attempted to turn a monster movie into a slasher film (slashers were more commercial at the time) and predictably failed. Instead of releasing the film around Halloween of ’89, the studio moved it to February of the next year because nothing says “Valentine’s Day” like monster/slasher mayhem. Needless to say, the movie bombed.

I remember hearing rumors about missing footage some time ago. I didn’t think much of it—these things usually just get your hopes up. According to an excellent article in the latest issue of Rue Morgue, however, the footage hasn’t just been found, there’s a new cut of the film. That’s the good news… the bad news is this long lost footage was found on VHS dubs of the master. The current state of The Cabal Cut (Cabal being the name of Barker’s original novella) is a patchwork of VHS scenes and DVD footage. Despite the alternating quality, the screenings of the project are reportedly doing well.

Apparently the studio is taking notice. These kind of movies typically perform much better years after they find their cult following. According to Clive Barker and the other guys involved with The Cabal Cut, Morgan Creek Productions gave them permission to screen the film as a way to gauge interest. So one day there could very well be an official version of The Cabal Cut, but I won’t hold my breath.

Spoiler: John Dies at the End

Hello? Yes, this is hot dog.

John Dies at the End is now available on VOD about a month before it releases in theaters. Pointing out the flaws in a movie like this is like refusing to go to bed with Marilyn Monroe because she has a mole. All genre classics are flawed, from Escape to New York to Evil Dead 2. Given enough time, these movies’ flaws become so endearing that drunken frat boys excitedly point the flaws out at movie parties. I suspect John Dies at the End may have launched itself on a similar trajectory, though David Wong’s serialized novel-thing somehow has better comedic timing. Questionable CGI aside, this movie’s a fine crowd-pleaser.

Don Coscarelli was the director who broke into the movies when he made the ultra-low budget Phantasm, a horror film about a demonic undertaker whose bidding was done by inter-dimensional dwarfs and sentient spheres. For me, it’s not a very rewatchable movie, but I have a soft spot for its first sequel. Coscarelli also made Bubba Ho-Tep, which supposes the real Elvis Presley (Bruce Campbell) ended up in a nursing home through an unlikely series of events (it was an impersonator who died). Teaming up with Ossie Davis, playing an elderly black man who thinks he’s JFK, Elvis must go toe-to-toe with a mummy who’s eating the souls of the nursing home’s residents.

As he did with that film, Coscarelli once again adapts a bizarre story written by a little-known cult writer. John Dies at the End is somehow even harder to summarize than Bubba Ho-Tep—and apparently harder to film as significant sections of the source material are omitted. It’s about a couple of slackers who are addicted to a drug called Soy Sauce that makes them see things from another dimension. There’s an alien subplot, too, all of which unfolds in a confusing order of events, true to the source material. The movie also features Paul Giamatti, Clancy Brown, and Doug Jones, who you may not recognize without the monster makeup he wore in Hellboy and Pan’s Labyrinth.

Just watch the trailer. If that appeals to you, then watch the movie. I have to go now. My hot dog is ringing.

Sinister isn’t false advertising

Sinister opens in grainy 8mm film. There’s a family of four hooded and bound. There are nooses around their necks, the ropes of which are draped over a tree branch above. A pole saw enters frame and cuts another branch where the other ends of the nooses are tied. As that branch goes down, the family is slowly (gruelingly) strung up. It’s an effective image and by now you should already know if this is a movie you want to see.

Enter Ellison (Ethan Hawke), his wife, and two children. They’re the new family moving into the very house where that murder took place. Ellison is a true crime writer who dreams of becoming the next Capote. He got a taste of fame a few books ago, but proved to be a hack in the meantime. Ridiculously, his wife doesn’t know the history behind the house they’re moving into. Although it’s common for men to surprise their wives with a new house, doing so in real life should be automatic grounds for divorce.

Eventually Hawke’s character stumbles upon a box in the attic containing a bunch of films and a home movie projector. The canisters are labeled innocently enough: Family Hangin’ Out ’11. Pool Party ’66. Sleepy Time ’98. BBQ ’79. My personal favorite is Lawn Work ’86, which takes creative liberties with a lawnmower. I doubt Honda paid for this product placement, by the way.

Ellison calls the police, but when he’s put on hold, he catches sight of his best-selling book on a nearby shelf. Fearing a scoop is about to slip through his fingers, he convinces himself to hang up. Be assured there will be one paper-thin excuse after another to keep him and his entire family in danger. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a movie.

Things do indeed get sinister. Eventually Ellison gets in touch with an occult expert (Vincent D’Onofrio) who says the symbols seen in each of the home movies reference a child-consuming demon. Demon or not, considering the scorpions and snakes found in Ellison’s attic, I would have moved out of the house on day one. There are also creepy children in the movie. Like creepy clowns, I can’t be the only one who’s getting bored of creepy children in films like this. I’m also getting bored of writers for main characters and creepy home movies.

At the end of the day, it’s a watchable picture, just a little slow. The term the filmmakers would prefer is “suspense-building,” but I don’t think it’s good enough to hold a moviegoer’s attention between the candy bar scenes. The film is certainly sinister, but it isn’t scary. I’m not entirely disappointed I saw it, but it arrives at a predictable ending that has nothing to say.

The Wii U is P.U.

Throughout the day Sunday, I kept hearing reviews of the Wii U and decided to go on the hunt. Two hours and several stores later, I found one at a dark and eerily dead Sears. They informed me had I gotten there any earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten it. Apparently they screwed up an order and the shipment didn’t arrive until shortly before I got there. So, lucky me, I bought the deluxe model for $479 including tax. 

What puzzled me was the lack of an Ethernet port. The exclusion was fine for Wii, as it wasn’t really geared for online games, but wasn’t the Wii U supposed to appeal more to “hardcore” gamers? If so, they’re already doing a bad job of it. I’ve got a router that’s literally two feet away from my TV—it’s a shame I simply can’t plug in. So far, most of my games only offer local multiplayer; the “online features” are social networking options that nobody will ever use.

My next complaint is about something that’s understandable in the modern age of gaming, but it still sucks: the day-one patch that takes an hour to download. If you bought one of these for your kids on Christmas, you probably won’t get to play it until noon. You don’t have to update if you only plan on playing disc games, but you do if you want to do literally anything else. On top of that, every game I’ve tried so far requires an individual update, which can take ten to thirty minutes a piece.

I’m also underwhelmed by the graphics. No, graphics aren’t everything, but I’m sick of people pretending graphics are nothing, too. This lower standard in graphical quality is to be expected from Nintendo, but I didn’t expect the graphics to be this bad. Hair looks PS2 era—sometimes worse—and when you play Assassin’s Creed 3, you’re going to be disappointed by the limited draw distances and the way shadows take on a distracting strobe effect. It’s hard to believe this is a next-gen system just by looking at it, though I expect the games will improve as developers get more experience with the system.

As usual, Nintendo shouldn’t be your first choice for FPS games and action titles. If that’s all you’re into, wait for Microsoft and Sony to release their next consoles (better yet: just beef up your home computer). But if you’re looking for something different, the Wii U might be for you. Although the system feels more like a toy than a gaming unit, it’s a fun throwback for those of us who grew up playing games with friends on the same TV.

The gamepad looks big, stupid, and uncomfortable, but the second you pick it up, you’ll wonder how they crammed so many electronics into such a lightweight device. It fits in your hands nicely and the touchscreen works like a charm, despite the lack of multi-touch controls. It’s just as cool and innovative as the Wiimote was in 2006. It’s especially surprising it didn’t make the package cost more than six hundred bucks.

Even so, I returned the system to Sears. I’ll buy it again in a few years, but right now, it isn’t worth the price for anyone but the most loyal of Nintendo fans. Even a few of them will have buyer’s remorse until the library is significantly bigger.

Smooth launch day for Black Ops 2

I thought I was done with Call of Duty. As launch day reviews came tumbling in this morning, I found myself excited about the newest installment. In particular, it was footage of the zombie mode additions that got my attention. So I purchased it and downloaded it while I was at work.

It’s good. It’s different. Everything I dislike about COD games has been addressed… well, almost everything. There are a few too many button prompts and quick-time events in the campaign, but there’s plenty of honest action, too. Amazingly enough, it runs better on my system on the day of launch than MW2 and 3 do after months of patches. I’ve yet to encounter any memorable bugs in the three hours I’ve played it. (Knock on wood, right?)

The sound is crisp, but Treyarch’s default mix sounds a little janky on my speakers; your mileage may vary so experiment with settings. Joining games has been a breeze and although I lagged a couple of times, it’s been pretty smooth for the most part. I like the customization. I like the futuristic weapons and tactical gear. Against all odds, I like Call of Duty again, if only briefly.