Residents of a certain southwestern state take note…
This is obviously a newly recut trailer with that special message from the awesome Danny Trejo — not, I admit, nearly as funny/cool as the one in “Grindhouse.” On the other hand, we now have glimpses of Robert De Niro doing exploitation for pretty much the first time in his career, Steven Seagal, Michelle Rodriguez, the great Cheech Marin, Jessica Alba, Lindsay Lohan (on the comeback trail?), and “introducing Don Johnson.” Heh.
* It might be a bit meta for a lead, but I can’t help my happiness that Roger Ebert has been named person of the year by the Webby Awards people. I’ve been a big fan of his writing for a very long time and always thought he was the best straight-up writer of any of the major critics, but recently he has really emerged as an inspirational figure. He’s also been one of the most generous supporters of film writing on the web in a million different ways. It’s not really bragging when I mention that he’s thrown some small nods my way as well as some occasionally very funny e-mail responses over the years. He’s done the same for countless others.
And, if that wasn’t cool enough, the great cinephile social networking and blog site, the Auteurs also won an award. Well, done, folks.
* In actual movie news, remember that item last week when I said that Matthew Vaughn, most recently of “Kick-Ass,” was not going to be directing the next X-Men movie? If not, you can just keep right on forgetting because, it turns out, he is directing the film they’ll call “X-Men: First Class” — a prequel. I’m a big fan of Vaughn, though not so much of the X-Men films so far, so I find this intriguing. Some of you may remember, Vaughn departed from “X-Men 3” and the film that was, as per Cinema Blend, Matthew Vaughn, and I, almost definitely the worse for it.
* More really good news from my point of view, one of my favorite actors currently working, Chewitel Ejiofor, has been cast as definitely my favorite Afro-pop musician — okay, the only African musician I can think of that I’ve ever actually bought an album or CD by. Ejiofor will be starring in a biopic of the legendary maestro Fela Anikulapo Kuti in a film to be directed by Steve McQueen of “Hunger.” This film is not related, except by topic, to the musical “Fela!” which just got eleven Tony nominations. The cool part is not only that the Ejiofor, a first-generation Brit born of Nigerian parents, is the actor to play the part, he’s also apparently learning to play piano and saxophone (Kuti’s instruments, I believe) and had, we’re told, become quite good.
Roger Ebert — there’ll be a bit more about him later tonight — always says that movies are not what they’re about, but how they’re about it. If so, this new film starring George Clooney is a real test of that thesis because, as pointed out by Jay A. Fernandez, premise-wise “The American” isn’t going to win any prizes for originality. Watch this and I think you’ll see, but if any of you English majors are expecting an adaptation of Henry James’ subtle romance, The American, think again.
Okay, so the trailer doesn’t make the hugest impression and how many “one last job” movies about professional killers and other hardcases have we seen over the years? Still, it’s all in the telling and movies are not trailers. This is the second feature from Anton Corbijn, a rock video director who has worked with U2 and Depeche Mode. His biopic of Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis, “Control,” is unseen by me but has won numerous awards and wowed critics. The screenplay for “The American” is by Rowan Joffe (“28 Weeks Later“), adapted from an acclaimed novel by the late Martin Booth, A Very Private Gentleman.
It’s worth noting, however, that the character in the book is not an assassin but an expert gun-maker for assassins. A fine moral distinction, I guess, but it would be nice to learn about those expert gunsmiths who always turn up in these stories. There was a character like that employed by the ruthless murderer of “The Day of the Jackal” back in 1973. Of course, the Jackal was doing one last job himself.
When I was in UCLA’s film school, sometime in the antediluvian celluloid era, the most grueling and rewarding class was “Project 1” in which all students were forced to become the auteurs of their own Super-8 epic. Just to make things a little extra tough, we were also forced to use 16mm sound in combination with the 8mm picture, which, trust me, created nightmarish problems regarding syncing sound to picture that essentially turned post-production into a cinematic hazing ritual. As we students expressed our frustration, inevitably someone would come up with same silly/sick joke about doing a film “from the point of view of Helen Keller” — i.e., complete silence and no visuals — or, a bit less minimalistically, “from the point of view of Stevie Wonder.”
Well, eventually, one of my friends did make a film that was close to the latter, with some clever dialogue which I won’t try to reconstruct here. Ever since then, I don’t remember anyone trying to make anything quite so minimal, that is until now….
This comes via Pete Sciretta at /Film who really seems to think that this film, which takes place entirely in the coffin and is most definitely not for the seriously claustrophobic, is terrific. Now, I’m definitely a fan of moves that take place in relatively confined spaces. “Rear Window” is one of my all-time favorite films, but I imagine there have to be limits. However, if I actually enjoy watching “Buried,” rather than merely enduring it, that will be an achievement that will force me to take director writer Chris Sparling, director Rodrigo Cortés and star Ryan Reynolds very seriously.
Bledsoe: “You won’t take the shot, it’s too risky! I’ll kill her before you…” Jack: *Blam*
Seriously, that was one of the best deaths in “24” history. Here was Toepick, trying to act all intimidating, when Jack was a mere five or six feet away. He may as well have had the gun on Toepick’s forehead. Heck, I’m pretty sure Jack has made that shot across a windy rooftop with a pea shooter in a previous season.
As Jack continues to thwart I.M. Weasel’s nefarious plans, Logan’s conversations with Allison remind me of a “Simpsons” episode – in full disclosure, it should be noted that pretty much everything reminds me of a “Simpsons” episode – where Apu is trying to get out of his arranged marriage to a family friend, and Homer suggests that he pretend that he’s married to Marge, and Bart and Lisa are his kids. When the plan continues to go wrong, Apu finally grows tired of Homer’s wacky schemes:
Apu: Is it me, or do all of your plans involve some horrible web of lies? Homer: It’s you.
Logan is Homer. Allison is Apu. Only she’s still going along with Logan’s ridiculous suggestions, even though each one is riskier and more conspicuous than the last one. Again, the woman who sent her own daughter to prison is authorizing Logan to put his assistant (official “24” nickname: Dominic, from his “Dollhouse” days) in charge of the hunt for Jack at CTU. Because that doesn’t look at all suspicious that you’re putting someone in between Jack and Chloe. Yumpin’ yiminy.
“Well, I say he does have to shoot me now! So shoot me now!”
There was a time when I hoped that they could come up with a way to take the bad guys down without getting Allison’s hands dirty, but as she continues to acquiesce, I am running out of patience with her. She’s had more than enough time to realize the grievous error in judgment she’s committed, but the problem at this point is that she can’t go back, so the web of lies expands. Still, go back to the beginning of this subplot, and think of Logan and Taylor as exes. Would you take ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ assistance from an ex – a known liar, to boot- even when they assured you that none of it would come back to haunt you? Of course you wouldn’t, because the two of you broke up for a reason, remember? There isn’t a parallel universe on this or any other world where Allison would accept that kind of help from someone like I.M. Weasel, and I’m growing tired of seeing them continue with the ruse.
Now let’s get to the other great death in tonight’s episode. Was anyone else shocked at the remorselessness Jack showed in dispatching Starbuck? Yes, she could not be trusted, and yes, she had killed several innocent civilians in order to facilitate her escape, as well as conceal her cover. And yes, Jack is going to have hell to pay from Buffy, even though Starbuck spared his life when hatching her Plan B to go off the grid. But for someone who said he was only interested in justice, Jack killing an unarmed Starbuck seemed a bit dark, didn’t it? How about chaining her to something and having the police deal with her? If the Russians kill her before she gets processed, so be it. She had her chance to escape on Jack’s terms, and she reneged. But just deciding that she had to die…that’s not going to help his case when he sees what’s on the video file and tries to make his case for, well, overthrowing the government. It seems the smarter play would have been from the Richard Kimble playbook, where you try to keep as many people alive as possible, even when they mean you harm. You’re trying to make a big, big case; it’s a lot easier to do that when there is no blood on your hands.
Only four hours left. I traded messages with onetime “Prison Break” blogger John “You Must Suspend Disbelief” Paulsen about the perils of blogging TV shows, and he told me that when “Prison Break” went off the air, he threw a party. As much as I’ve loved watching this show and writing this silly, silly blog, I’m harboring similar plans. I am grateful to all six of you who have stuck with this blog until the very end, but I’m officially at the point where I cannot wait for this show to be over. And with any luck, our colleague Will Harris will find himself in the same room with Cherry Jones at the next TCA gathering, and I can ask him to get her to talk about how she felt about getting lobotomized mid-season. Hey, at the very least, we might get a good off-the-record story from her on the subject.
In the meantime, I leave you with this clip from the Cranberries’ first album. It seemed to fit, given that Jack put Starbuck down like a dog, but not before putting Toepick down like a rabid dog. Plius, I have been sitting here for about an hour trying to find a clever lyric as a subtitle for this week’s blog, and I’m tired, man. Cranberries it is. Good night.
