Review of "War of the Worlds"

In an earlier review of "The Longest Yard", I asked why remakes always try to remake "good" films, ones that didn't really need any "punching up" or "reimagining". I said that if the original film can stand on its own and was successful that the act of remaking it is really an exercise in futility.

In reference to "War of the Worlds" I stand by my thesis.

Mind you, there's nothing particularly "bad" about WOTW. It follows basically the same script as the 1953 original (which was itself based on a 1938 radio play by Orson Welles). Atmospheric disturbances are felt around the world, terrible magnetic storms that behave in a way that baffles scientists. These storms awaken huge lumbering death machines from underground that are piloted by aliens (Martians in the original) who begin systematically eliminating the human race with powerful death rays. The craft are impervious to attack because of force fields that repel all attempts to slow or destroy them. We see death and destruction on massive scale, as humans try to survive and come up with some way of fighting off these seemingly indestructible foes.

In this version, the story is seen through the eyes of one family, specifically Tom Cruise and his teenage son and pre-adolescent (read: "Spielberg precocious") daughter. All of the early scenes worked quite well for me. Cruise's character is a divorced dad who has a good relationship with the daughter but a terribly strained one with the son. He is a New Jersey dock worker, apparently middle class and rather rough around the edges. Once the strange stuff starts happening, Cruise projects a gradually growing sense of dread about what is happening and his instinctive protection of his family comes across just fine. I thought the whole ambiance of the neighborhood reacting as one against the power outages, the storms, etc. was very realistic and quite frightening actually, with obvious echoes of 9/11 as the frightened residents flee the death rays.

So far, so good. But again, besides the family angle, there were no huge deviations in the script or reinterpretations of things that made me realize why this movie had to be remade. Yes, it was good, but I didn't particularly need to be reminded of its quality. Why not take the money spent on redoing an already successful script and make a brand new one?

After the inital destruction of New Jersey, the film is pretty much Cruise's family running away and stopping from time to time, befriending people (or not) and trying to stay together. Uhm, that's about it. The military angle was played down here until the last half hour or so, in order to focus things on the family. Again, this was fine but the question kept being begged..."why"??

There are a few examples of glaring illogic that I noted as well. Cruise's son transforms from a selfish, lazy, video game addicted brat in the beginning to a selfless hero ready to risk all for others WAY too quickly for me. Likewise the transformation of the Tim Robbins' character, a guy who offers shelter to Cruise and his daughter, seems like a decent Joe, then like fifteen minutes later is a raging lunatic who is so intent on killing the aliens he is ready to shoot Cruise. He later has to be killed by Cruise in order to silence him so the aliens don't discover their hideout! This whole very distasteful scene was indicative of a kind of underlying theme I really didn't care for. That theme was "well, it's really too bad about the rest of them, but the important thing is that WE made it...". Yes, it's true that Cruise's son (much more so than Cruise's character) helped people at different times, but besides the family and the Robbins character, there were really no other characters that were developed enough for us to care about their fate. They were just "People Who Got Killed" rather than living breathing fully developed individuals who we felt that we knew. The sequence near the end where the family's neighbors have to be left behind is gruelling and well done, but after that we never hear them mentioned again, and the whole finale where the family meets up with Cruise's in-laws has such a "well, it's all OK now" feel about it I was truly shocked. Yeah, the aliens are dead and defeated but how about a least a casual nod toward the massive death and destruction that they left in their wake. How about the fact that your son was just in a war and your daughter was practically witness to you murdering someone?? I don't imagine that Cruise just went back to work the next day, for example!! It would be nice to have had one scene, or at least the hint of a future scene, where the family tried to deal with the enormity of what had just happened to them, rather than go off into the sunset, the victorious Human Family...

There is one other scene, again near the end of the film, where Cruise manages to "fight back" against the aliens that just struck me being very hollow and unbelievable. It just seemed as though they inserted it because at some point it was necessary to have a big movie star like Cruise "kick some ass" and not be just a powerless Everyman on the run from omnipotent aliens.

I have to say that the characterization of the daughter got under my skin too. Yes, I know that kids are sometimes wiser than their years, but Spielberg doggedly insists on making ALL of his kid characters little George Burns; wisecracking, ridiculously mature and knowing little elves who seem to always be more knowing and mature than their befuddled parents. Yes, Fanning's character does realistically freak out several times, but there are a few lines she utters that are just so far beyond what a normal kid her age would say I had to cringe.

Eh, I guess when I get to picking on the kids I'm kind of revealing my hand...

If you haven't seen the original "War of the Worlds" this is NOT a bad film by any means. There are lots of truly frightening scenes and Cruise is fine in the role. There just doesn't seem to be any real reason to have made it. You come away with a kind of empty feeling; is the moral that we are powerless to stop an alien invasion? Well that's pretty much a truism. If they made it this far, they are probably far beyond us and could pretty much do anything they want. And whatever updating this film does is kind of cancelled out by the leaps in logic and the occasionally disturbing thematic undercurrents.

For all the strum und drang, I say, "bring back Dana Andrews."

Opportunity

I may have something close to a job offer today. I lady I know from high school is a supervisor at our local bank and she needs someone to fill a retirement spot.

I don't know what to do.

The pay is not going to be as much as I currently make, and the benefits are not nearly as good as I have now. However, there is a good chance that I could get a promotion within a couple of years and be salary. In order to do so, I would have to move, probably about two hours away from here.

I don't know what to do.

I would really like to get out of my current job. There is little or no room for advancement, the very viability of the plant is in deep question. The retirement benefits are not good, just a 401K and IRA. The pay is not good, either. On the plus side, I have eighteen years seniority, nearly five weeks vacation and I don't have to drive to work.

But I still don't know what to do.

If I don't take this job and it turns out I should have, I will feel like a hypocrite for complaining about my current job and not doing anything. If I do take the job and end up regretting it, I won't be able to get back to my current one.

I think I will talk to my plant manager and ask him what he thinks; that is, is there any reason to think that I will be able to advance at all. I know he will probably not be totally honest with me, but I want to get a feel for what he says anyway. It sounds like they will hire for the other job in about two weeks or less, so that doesn't give me a whole lot of time.

I wonder if the only way I will ever get anywhere is to just take a big risk and quit. I am not much of a risk taker, but maybe I need to start. I just don't know. I have no real ties to my home town anymore, not with my mom gone.

God I hate decisions. Worse yet, I hate the implication that I can't make decisions and that I really don't know what the hell I want. That is a very scary thought. How can you ever get what you want if you don't know what it is?

Oh, Lord.

Review of "Fantastic Four"

I guess it's really not fair for me to review a film version of Marvel Comics" "Fantastic Four" series. It was one of the first comics I picked up as a VERY young child back in the late sixties, and as such is really a seminal part of my youth and comics experience. I have read it off and on over the past four (groan) decades, too, so obviously I am bringing with my review a fair amount of personal historical baggage and emotional investment. There is almost no way I could be totally pleased with the film, I suppose. But then again the same could have been said for the "SpiderMan" and (to a lesser extent, "X-Men") films and they were so perfectly on target with the spirit and intent of the comics' series that one can always hope for the best. And, as in the case of "Daredevil", prepare for the worst.

Happily, "Fantastic Four" while far from a perfect film, comes closer to the success rate of the former than of the latter.

This "Fantastic Four", unlike the comic, posits a world where Reed Richard and Ben Grimm are nearly broke business partners who both believe in Reed's project to study cosmic rays in order to help cure disease (I wasn't too clear on that concept myself) and must go hat in hand to Victor Von Doom for financial assistance. Here Von Doom is NOT the lord and ruler of foreign Latveria, but a modern day Donald Trump magnate with his filthy rich hands in lots of pies. He employs Susan and Johnny Storm, a brother and sister who work for him despite the fact that Susan has has a romantic past with Richards. Von Doom agrees to finance Reed's project at a substantial benefit to himself of course, they all take off and are exposed (thanks to Doom's greed) to the rays that transform their bodies and give them all extraordinary powers.

Besides the twisting of Doom's origin (and the addition of his powers; in the comic, he has none besides his armor and his knowledge of the occult which was not mentioned here), we all see some deviation in the romantic involvement of Doom and Susan. Though my first reaction was disappointment at the heresy of perverting the pure and treasured memory of my FF's origin, the more I thought about it the more I realized I was being selfish. The filmmakers had to tailor this story in such a fashion so that people unfamiliar with the comic could still enjoy the experience. The cold hard truth is that including all the FF's and Doom's true origins into one movie would have probably taken upwards of four hours of film time, and that is just time that they did not have. Condensing and streamlining the origin stories was really the only way to make the story not only more palatable to new viewers but feasible within a two hour time frame.

Actually, so many things were done right with the movie it seems a shame to dwell on the negative anyway. The tension and bickering that were always such a hallmark of the FF "family" are recaptured wonderfully here; Reed and Sue's conflict over his need to overthink everything (even though here it is done in the context of ex-lovers, not a married couple), Johnny and Ben's constant and humorous warring, Sue's frustration over Johnny's inability to grow up and get serious, Ben's understandable but misplaced anger at Reed for his awful physical state; all are done very well and in perfect keeping with the tone of the comic.

None of this would be possible of course, without a strong effective cast. I'm not familiar with Ioan Gruffold, but he did a great job of capturing Reed's character; deeply intellectual, moral, a bit timid and oblivious to emotional issues. Likewise Chris Evans , who played up Johnny's impetuousness and thrill a minute personality. Actually, the script bordered on making Johnny a bit of a jerk at times, but they always seemed to reign him in just in time before he lost our sympathy. I loved the camaraderie of Reed and Ben, too. The casting of Michael Chiklis was really a masterstroke; it's hard to imagine anyone else playing this difficult role. Ben is by turns loyal, angry, funny, dark humored, prideful and immensely generous. It's a terribly difficult role and Chiklis absolutely nails it. And I must say I was pleasantly impressed with Jessica Alba. I was a little afraid she was cast simply for her "va va voom" appeal, but she brought a real intensity and maturity to the role, a real surprise for a 23 year old. Sure, she was nice to look at too, but she made Sue come alive in all the right ways; a strong female presence to smooth over some of Johnny's rough edges, a friend to Ben and an emotional inspiration to Reed. And if I may be forgiven a moment of male chauvinism, she looks hot as hell in a fight scene! Julian McMahon was fine as Doom. If anything I would have wished for a bit MORE theatrical performance. Doom was always known for his florid speech patterns and grandiose descriptions of himself (generally in the third person; he and Bob Dole would have gotten along swell!). But McMahon did have an imposing, appropriately menacing presence that worked well. It was a bit jarring to see Doom as a "hunk" competing with Reed for Sue's affections, but again, it did work in the context of making the film less cluttered with backstory and more accessible to non-comics fans.

I was a bit disappointed that the threat the group faced was basically just their own deaths. While obviously real to them, I kind of missed the typical "earth is in jeopardy" threat that the team generally was saddled with. We didn't see nearly enough of the team protecting people; basically just the one scene on the bridge and that was it. I think the film's surprisingly short length (just about an hour and a half) kind of torpedoed a lot of opportunities for action. While I applaud the filmmakers' decision to concentrate on character scenes, I think it still would have been possible to include more action and interweave action and character. But if something had to be sacrificed, I guess I'd rather it was action; the "family" scenes were really key and memorable.

I guess I'd give "FF" a good solid "B". And I think they've laid some nice groundwork for a sequel; they have a great feel for the characters and the acting ensemble was great. Now for an encore they just need to relax a bit on the running time and allow for some more jim dandy fight scenes (really liked the Torch's look and wanted more, for instance) and who knows; "FF2" may be right up there with "SpiderMan2" as a sequel that outdoes the original!

Flame on!

Happy Birthday to Me

Today is my birthday. I am forty one years old. Who on the planet ever dreams that they will be forty one? Certainly not me. I don't know what I expected; that at twenty or thirty or forty, God would finally take notice of the passing of time and reach down from the Heavens and demand that an impenetrable bubble be place around me inside which I could never age? Heh, well, I didn't expect it but it's kind of a nice thought.

I suppose being forty one wouldn't be so bad if I had any sense of personal progress. Most people have spouses and children and homes of their own by now, some even have grandchildren. Most have been working in jobs that have something to do with who they are as people for quite some time. Most are located in an area that seems commensurate with their character, and feel "at home" in that place.

None of these things can be said to apply to me.

This is not a case of "poor little me"...I have made my own bed, that's for sure. But we all do what we can and think is right at the time and it's hard to know what the future will bring or how it will all affect us. I have felt so lost and adrift since my mom died...I get through my days, but that's about it. I'm kind of like a puppet that is just animated by things it needs to do, that it is prompted to do, and that's about all. No spark, no living breathing force within it. Maybe that will change eventually, who knows?

This is my first birthday alone and it stinks. Three people remembered it; I guess I shouldn't complain, a lot of people in the world have NO ONE remembering their birthdays, or can't even remember it themselves. I guess you can't help but think about your own death at a time like this. Getting into middle age now, your parents gone, and you are alone. It's a scary, strange existence.

I guess the thing to do is to try and make it better.

Review of "Star Wars 3: Revenge of the Sith"

" It is not the end, nor is it the beginning of the end. It is however, the end of the beginning" Winston Churchill

Unfortunately for "Star Wars" fans, this is not only the "end of the beginning", but in fact, "the end". George Lucas has publicly stated he will not be making any more "Star Wars" films, as what was proposed as a nine part series is now going to end up being just a six part tale.

It's a pity, because it could have and should have been so much more.

The latest, and last, "Star Wars" film, "Revenge of the Sith" improves somewhat on the first two "prequels" simply because it is not burdened with the weight of so much ponderous exposition and pretty much hits the high points on a consistent basis. There are several really effective battle scenes, effective not just because of the technical skill with which they are staged and the terrific cinematography involved, but because they contain a deeply personal dimension, or in some cases their scope is so large that we are nearly in awe of them and realize the huge consequences of the outcomes. And the entire pace of the film is sped up, that is, it seems as though the history of the "Star Wars" galaxy is racing by at a lightning speed and events are unfolding so quickly and tragically we want to reach out and stop them.

"Revenge of the Sith" is primarly the story of the final seduction and downward spiral into evil of Anakin Skywalker. The character that began as a young, somewhat puckish and impetuous boy in "Phantom Menace" has grown into a brooding, arrogant and fearful young man who is ripe for the psychological manipulations of Emperor Palpatine, a turncoat member of the Imperial Senate who is secretly a disciple of the dark side of the Force, and who covets power on a galaxy wide scale. Though we have been primed a bit for this development (what with Anakin's indiscriminate slaughter of the sand people who enslaved and killed his mother), the final hurtle towards the dark side still seems a bit rushed to me. At the beginning of the film, Anakin is still Obi Wan's friend and student, saving his life and joking affectionately with him. Two hours later, he is slaughtering children and ready to murder not only Obi Wan but the love of his life, Padme.

I think to adequately portray this transition, you really needed a television mini-series. In fact, the pacing of ALL these "prequels" seemed herky jerky to me; too fast at times, too slow at others. This is in contrast to the "first" series, which always seemed to cruise along at just the right speed, mixing action and exposition seamlessly.

I must say that some of the problem with the speed of Skywalker's descent into darkness dwell with casting. While I acknowledge that some of the motivations behind young Skywalker's fall were psychologically valid (his fear of losing Padme is a natural window into his dark side; ends justifying the means and all...), the acting of Hayden Christiansen was too often rather flat and unconvincing. Without meaning to be cute, it often seemed as though he was cast more for his potential "hottie" status than real ability to project passion into the role. He always just seemed more...pouty than dangerous, more immature than evil. Again, I think if his descent had been slower, and he had been a bit older, at least thirty or so, when he fell from grace, I would have had an easier time buying him as a truly menacing, fully realized villain.

This movie is about more than Anakin's fall, however. It's also about the destruction of the Jedi Knights and the rise of the Emperor and his minions. Again, I felt that there wasn't sufficient time given to this monumental development. Within the space of a handful of scenes the Jedis are betrayed and cut down by the clone stormtroopers. It's not that I am morbid and wanted to wallow in their deaths, but somehow it just seemed as though an event that big needed more air time. Likewise, the exiling of Yoda and Obi Wan Kenobi; neither one of them had a "safehouse" or "bolthole" other than the godforsaken swamps of Dagobah and equally unappealing desert of Tatooine? They just hightailed it out of the universe at light speed, somehow undermining both the significance of the events that preceded their actions and the complexity of their characters.

For all the negatives of the film, there were of course some balancing points. The fight scenes were very sophisticated and complex, in perfect harmony with the epic struggles they represented. Anakin versus Kenobi, Yoda versus Emperor Palpatine, Kenobi versus the droid leader, and all the broader conflicts (Wookiees against the droids, the initial deep space battle...) were all instantly engaging and awesome to behold. It really begs the question of what wonders we could have beheld if the technology available to us today had been available to Lucas back in 1977. Of course, we have the "directors cut" versions, but the core of the battle scenes were made at a time of much less technical sophistication. Yoda's movements are so much more lifelike and real; this goes a long ways toward making him more believable, not just a "muppet" to be patted on the head, but a truly well rounded character that we feel for and empathize with.

One of the elements of the original series that made it so appealing to me was the cast of characters, and their wonderful interplay. This series had more characters, but at the same time, most of them seemed to have less depth than those of the originals. Ewan McGregor does a great job with a terribly underwritten role of Kenobi. Has he ever had a romantic interest? Where does he come from, and has he ever had a life beyond being a Jedi master and tutor? What are his motivations? We never learn the answers to any of these questions, but McGregor somehow still holds the role together with a glue of integrity and dignity. It's hard to imagine a more tragic character in the "Star Wars" pantheon, excluding Vader himself of course. His main task in life is the tutelage of the "Chosen One" of the universe, and not only does he fail to deliver Vader as such, he has to watch in horror as Vader becomes the universe's most heinous and powerful new villain! He then falls into self-imposed exile on Tattooine, where he ekes out what can only be a miserable existence as a hermit and local crackpot/wizard. Then when he finally finds the New Hope (Luke), he allows himself to be killed (!) but even then cannot rest as he has to keep popping up as a guide figure/ghost for Luke to draw insight from!

Well, as Mark Twain observed, if you are good, you will be lonely.

Other characters, such as Mace Windu and Count Dockoo, appear to exist just to move the plot along; we never really know who they are as people. Some of this may be quibbling as we didn't get to know some "original series" characters that well either (Grand Moff Tarkin, Admiral Ackbar, etc.) but at least in that series the core characters seemed pretty well fleshed out and delineated. Here there really is no "ensemble" for us to get to know and identify with; all the principles seem to meet at the beginning of the films, then are dispatched to various locales and missions with little or no interaction throughout the rest of the film. And I must say I have been particularly disappointed with the treatment of Padme in the last two films. A character that began as a feisty, involved and independent woman quickly dissolved into someone whose main function was to worry about her beloved and be in jeopardy. In this film, she is saddled with such dreary dialogue I really felt rather sorry for Natalie Portman, who by all accounts is really a fine actress.

All that said, there are of course some moments that longtime "Star Wars" fans will just eat up, as I did. The connection between Yoda and the Wookiees (and his final "farewell" to them), the aforementioned battle scenes, R2's consistent "pluckiness", and the final scene on Tattooine, foreshadowing the "middle" trilogy, were all very welcome. And it just goes without saying that anyone who has seen and loved the other films is going to HAVE to see this one. I just think that so much more could have been done with the material, had the pacing and characters been fine tuned a bit (in some cases, a LOT) more.

Paddle Pool Dreams

When I was very young, I think about seven, I got a game for Christmas called "Paddle Pool". Basically, it was a square plastic area, about two by two feet, with a raised center and four curved sides. At each end of the board were "goals" which were sunken areas into which the game balls were to be shot. Defending these goals were foot long plastic "paddles", which the player manipulated with both hands. Basically, the players shot the ball at the other players goals and the other players tried to defend those goals. Each score was worth a point. Whoever got to five first, won.

That was it.

That was the game, at least. But what it meant, and what it still means, is a lot more. I have very clear memories of this game providing literally hours and hours of joy for my family, at a time in all our lives when we were all relatively young, strong and happy. My dad was in his early fifties, getting ready for early retirement from government work. He was still smoking and drinking at this point, and may have had high blood pressure, but he was still years away from the time that it would become a real problem for him. He was in good physical shape, not heavy yet, still strong and able to play a game of "horse" or "around the world " with me, and not yet plagued by the hypertension which would cast a chill over his personality.

My mom was in her mid forties, smoking like my father, but not drinking. She had epilepsy and agoraphobia, but other than that she was in reasonably good physical shape. She was a full time housewife; I was still a little tyke who needed practically constant care (or so they thought!) She didn't get out of the house much at this point, as her agoraphobia was in full force. I really didn't understand at this stage of my life what a huge thing this was. Mom just "got nervous" when she went out, so most of the time the person to take me to the store or ball games or school or the doctor was my dad. It just never occurred to me that there was anything really odd or out of place about this. It was just the way things had always been. My mom doted on me, playing games with me, talking to me, reading to me, asking me about my day at school and taking an interest in my hobbies (which at this point were comic books and monster movies, with sports just beginning to become interesting to me). She pretty well wrapped her life around me, and I have to tell you, it was a sweet life for me.

My brother was in his early twenties, young good looking and healthy. He drank and smoke of course, but not yet to the extent that he would later on. He and I really didn't do a lot together; he had just gotten married and had moved out of the house. He worked full time and only came up on weekends, usually Saturday nights to play cards and drink with my dad. I thought he was the coolest person in the world; that's what your older brother usually is. He had cool friends (at least I thought so then), a nice pretty wife, a job, his own place. He could play guitar and sports, he was smart and funny.In reality, I didn't know him at all; I knew him in the distant, unrealistic way we know movie stars or anyone that we end up idolizing. We read glamour into our heroes, and don't bother ourselves with their darker sides. Thinking back, even then I realized my brother had a very cruel selfish streak that came out from time to time, but I wasn't around him enough for it to really bother me or change my opinion of him. And the slightly to moderately drunk state I generally saw him in mellowed and took care of those sharper edges most of the time.

His wife was a nice young lady, tall, pretty without being beautiful. She was down to earth, generally quiet, with a sense of humor that seemed to fit right in with that of our family. She loved sports, knew a lot of the same people my dad did, and liked to drink and play games. She was interested in current events, read NEWSWEEK and PLAYBOY. She was always nice to me; talked to me like an adult would to another adult and I know now was the one who suggested whatever outings I took with she and my brother.

I was a smart little boy; thin, sheltered and spoiled. I was the only "kid" at home, and while my parents were far from rich, I certainly never went without. Christmas always brought a big stack of presents under the tree. Birthdays were nice without being extravagant. I really never asked for much otherwise, aside from the occasional comic or magazine. If I did, I generally got it, but I just was easily pleased, I guess. I did well in school, helped out a little around the house (but not much I have to admit; most of my chores were helping my mom, who liked to have someone do dishes with her). I remember having a lot of fears. Not having many experiences or responsibilities, I built up dark mysteries and fears about things I didn't have experience with, which was pretty much everything. I didn't like change, was afraid to be alone, didn't like night time, and was just generally scared of the unknown. My parents were concerned but kind of puzzled by this trait, I think. They talked to me about it, but I really couldn't articulate why I felt that way. And in that day, the thought of a child going to a therapist was almost unheard of. If you did, you were practically labelled a psychopath. It just didn't happen, unless you were having problems in school, which I wasn't.

But I was happy. I got good grades, I had quite a few friends, my parents loved and took care of me, and I had no responsibilities. Life was good.

We all liked to play paddle pool. My dad used to say it was like a breathalizer test; if you were drunk, you couldn't do very well at Paddle Pool. He was right. But a lot of the time, my dad, brother and sister-in-law were at some stage of inebriation. My mom and I didn't drink of course, but we didn't feel left out. Generally, no one got really drunk, just buzzed enough to be silly and uncoordinated.

I guess I just remember a lot of laughing. That is a nice memory to hang onto. This was before all the things that happen to families happened; frustration, disappointment, heartbreak, illness, alcoholism, drug abuse, tension, jealousy, anger. This is not to say none of these things were present then. It's just that I was young enough not to detect their subtle (and not so subtle) presence, and they weren't operating at any level that would have made them obvious to anyone. These negative elements were nicely opposed by positive ones; laughter, companionship, success, and love.

It isn't often that you can find something that truly "the whole family can enjoy". Paddle Pool, for whatever reason, was that something for us. Maybe it was the simplicity of the game. The rules were very basic, the play of the game easy to understand. Most of the games we played involved more thinking than doing, so maybe the physical aspect of the game had something to do with its appeal. Whatever it was, we all liked it, and we liked being together to play it.

Why am I thinking about a game that I played over thirty years ago? Because my mother died about four months ago, and I am looking down the barrel of a lonely life. My dad has been gone since 1992, and my brother has retreated into the self-imposed prison of the bottle, no longer reachable by anyone or anything. I am pretty much all that is left of that little circle. And I need and want to recall a time when things weren't the way they are now, the way they became over the years; my dad, wracked by hypertension and responsibility, his personality changed by high blood pressure and stress until even he realized he was no longer the easygoing, contented man he had been; my mom, burdened with a frail body and shackled to the responsibilities of housewife and mother when her mind yearned to soar beyond it all, to travel, to laugh with friends and live spontaneously; my brother, sinking oh so deep into selfishness and self-denial by drowning every conflict he ever had in a sea of booze and avoidance; myself, tormented by obsessive compulsive disorder and self-doubt, not knowing how to act to achieve whatever dreams I held dear. (My sister-in-law "escaped" by divorcing my brother in 1982.)

I don't like to think of myself as a "sole survivor". But sometimes it certainly feels that way. By virtue of my age, I suppose, I am destined to be the only one who remembers those nights, those times and treasure them.

I guess that's why I was compelled to say something about Paddle Pool. I want that time to dwell forever in my mind, like a photograph that reminds me of a better time, when there seemed like there were so many possibilities and everyone had their lives (or at least a portion of them) ahead of them. I want it to remind me and whoever reads this that there are moments of pure joy in life, even though we may not always recognize them as such when they happen.

Sometimes people ask what one's idea of heaven is. Well, we're not all there yet, but I kind of like to think that somewhere there is a kitchen table where my mother and father wait for me patiently. They have the board all out and ready, my mom has her scorepad with our names pencilled in. My dad has a Hamm's can in front of him (hey, it's Heaven, what the hell?), my mom has her iced tea with lemon. My dad is relaxed like he used to be, the heavy burden of responsibility has left his soul. My mom is young and healthy; she can breathe and walk perfectly again. She is laughing, telling jokes and having a good time. She is still the sweet, giving soul that she always was. My brother can stop by when he is ready, and hopefully whatever demons drive him have been exorcised to. All that darkness is gone from us all. We sit and we laugh and we enjoy each other's company.

And we play.

Review of "Seed of Chucky"

If anyone ever needed proof that Hollywood is prejudiced against the horror film genre, "Seed of Chucky" could supply all the evidence you would need. "SOC" is a smart, funny, sometimes viciously satirical and always outrageously gory entry in the long running "Child's Play" (now "Chucky") series. What this film demands of lead actress Jennifer Tilly (and what she delivers with) really cries out for an Oscar nomination. If the film had been anything but a film about two murdering possessed dolls and their quest to build a family by articifically iseminating real life actress Tilly, this type of effort would have easily put Tilly on the ballot. As it is, she's left with probably thousands of cult film admirers and some good writeups in "Fangoria" magazine; nice but hardly sufficient reward for her efforts.

"SOC" begins years after the last Chucky film ("Bride of Chucky") ends. The progeny of Chucky and Tiffany (two serial killers whose souls have migrated into children's dolls) is now working in an English sideshow for a cruel tormenting master. The sensitive tyke escapes, and sets off to find his real parents, whom he assumes are Japanese (because of the Made in Japan stamp on his wrist!).

Meanwhile, Tilly (who played Tiffany, the human side of Tiffany, in the last film) is desperate to get a role as the Virgin Mary in an upcoming film financed by hip hop producer Redman. When he decides she is not right for the role, Tilly plans to seduce him in exchange for the part. Chucky and Tiffany, who have been deactivated since the last film, have been used as film props on the set of a recent horror film about Chucky. Their son shows up in the special effects department, reads the secret inscription that will revive them, and then is aghast when he finds his parents are both bloodthirsty killers. Tiffany decides she would like to live in Tilly's body (naturally) and Chucky sets his eye on Tilly's chauffeur, who is secretly in love with her. All these characters, plus Tilly's personal assistant and John Waters as a sleazy paparazzi, converge on Tilly's home with various agendas and the result is both tremendously funny and gory.

The director really approaches this type of material with the only type of tone possible, with tongue firmly in cheek. There are tons of in-jokes, including the one involving Chucky's son's name. Chucky, for no apparent reason, names him "Glen", and when the tyke has gender identity issues, he is called "Glenda", an obvious reference to the notorious Ed Wood film. "The Shining" and other horror films are also referenced, usually to great effect. There are some truly berserk moments, such as the scene where Waters spies Chucky masturbating into a cup and mistakes him for a "little person" and connects it to Tilly's kinky character.

But the strongest humor in the film comes from the portrayal of Tilly herself, and this is where I really thinks she deserves great credit. I can't remember the last time I some someone play such a self-effacing role in which the ego had to be checked at the door. Tilly pokes fun at her celebrity status ("I was nominated for an Oscar, now I'm screwing a puppet!"), her weight, her breast size, and even the notion that she is "easy" in this film and she does so with such obvious glee you feel like unearthing this acting jewel and revealing it for all the world to see. This is the type of film that would NEVER be recognized by the Academy, yet when you think about what is required of her it's kind of staggering. She not only plays a very satirical version of herself, she also voices the doll from which her former character was posssessed (got all that?). And how exactly do you manage to make believable a scene in which you are about to deliver a child (her pregnancy is magically accelerated), tied to a bed with your chauffeur, watching animated murderous puppets have a family crisis right in front of you? Somehow, Tilly does it.

I love this movie. I love it because it knows exactly what it is, it never takes itself too seriously and it really holds your interest with all its inspired twists and turns. In a time when sequels are churned out like McDonald's fries (and generally with the same amount of creativity), each of the "Chucky" sequels has had a reason, a sensibility and a sense of purpose. This one is no exception and I definitely look forward to the next one...

Uhm, "Chucky in Space"?..."Chucky in Divorce Court"?, ..."Chucky Vs. Jason..."?

Bring it on!