Bantam vs. Manpurse: a DC Film Retrospective

Last Saturday my wife and I went to Baton Rouge to celebrate my father's sixty somethingth birthday. And what better way to commemorate such a generalized milestone than by catching the latest superhero flick? Surely something must have come out.


How long have we been talking about a Justice League movie, like with any real hope of seeing one? Marvel got ambitious with its shared universe project, and amazingly enough didn't crash and burn with it. That whole thing kicked off seven years ago. I've heard some murmuring in my circles about the egregious similarities among every Marvel film (mostly from DC enthusiasts), and while I'm not audacious enough to say that this isn't the case, I feel the need to point out that I usually walk away from a Marvel movie in a good mood.


DC? *sigh*


Okay, let me back up a little bit. A buddy of mine explained (probably through stealing someone else's words) the difference between DC and Marvel. Marvel is made up of ordinary people who fall into power(s), whereas DC is comprised of Gods who are trying to live amongst mortals. As such, Marvel has a fundamental advantage in relating to the average movie goer. We see ourselves in Tony Stark and Peter Parker. Superman and Wonder Woman are meant to be unattainable. Even human Bruce Wayne is so obsessed with pushing himself beyond his boundaries that he becomes unrealistically superhuman.


Thus, it becomes the challenge of the filmmakers to tell a DC story that's engaging while distant. So how have they done in the past? Only going as far back as Richard Donner, because his 1978 classic coincides with the birth of the modern cinema, there have been six Superman and seven Batman movies (no, I'm not dealing with animation right now, and 1984's Supergirl doesn't exist). Which hero does it better? Which one falls on his cape with the most frequency? Well, let's have a look in a creatively semi-chronological order. I'm going to pit them against each other in alternating films, translating each one into a melee attack, leading into the gladiator battle proper. Here then is Batman 5 Superman.

Batman (1989)

In keeping with Supes's tradition, he's going to let Batman have the first strike. As such, here's the damned Tim Burton flick that people still will not shut up about. The pros: Gotham looks gothic in a way that has affected the world of the Dark Knight ever since. And Danny Elfman's score is as engrained in Batman lore as the Unbirthday song is to Alice in Wonderland. The cons: Tim Burton does not understand the timing of action sequences, and there is no indication that he's ever going to learn. And I know a lot of people are going to violently disagree with me, but the casting was not good. Jack Nicholson wasn't playing the Joker, he was just playing his usual shtick, in makeup. And Michael Keaton is remembered incorrectly as the definitive Batman. I'm sure he looks better when you compare him to his successors, but he's really just bland with Beetlejuice flashes. He would have been better as the joker.

Result: Batman introduces himself as Batman by throwing a massive Bat-punch to the jaw. Supes barely feels it.

Superman (1978)

The visual effects of this film may read as VERY green screen today, but at the time you totally bought into them. Lex Luthor and whatever bullshit scheme the dart landed on was superfluous, this movie was about spending time with Superman. Christopher Reeve nailed it. You didn't want to be Superman, you wanted to meet him. And did you ever notice there was a sub-archetype weaving through our nerd fiction at this time? Namely the feisty leading lady with teeth? You saw it in Princess Leia and Marion Ravenwood, as well as in Margot Kidder's Lois Lane. She definitely left a mark on the role. So while the film was kind of...not action-y, it was a charming way to spend a few hours with everyone's ideal guidance counselor.

Result: Supes counters Batman's strike by standing there, unmoving. As if to say "Ha ha. I have superpowers and you don't. Nyahhhh".

Batman Returns (1992)

How much of a threat can the Penguin be? He can barely walk. This is more of the same, but perhaps with a little less dignity. Keaton is beginning to look undeniably silly in the costume, and Danny DeVito is performing on the level of a really good Halloween Horror Nights scare actor. But quaintly enough, the Michelle Pfeiffer/Christopher Walken subplot comes across as strangely engaging. You almost hope for a Batman movie without Batman in it. It's not to say Pfeiffer is really playing Catwoman (because, you know, Tim Burton has never read a comic book), but her character arc is interesting. Ultimately this is kind of a boring movie with a bright spot in Pfeiffer's performance. One note, wasn't Max Shreck doing something with the city's power grid until about the third scene?

Result: Batman sucker punches Superman with a really lame gut attack, except that it has a dose of Bat-jalapeno juice on his fist. Supes feels a sting which bruises his dignity (yep, the guy in blue spandex has dignity to bruise).

Superman II (1980)

If you need a convenient counter argument to the 'the sequel is never as good as the original' mantra, try this Richard-Lester-pretending-to-be-Richard-Donner-directed follow up. The element to the character of Superman that makes him interesting is his inability to fit in with the world. He could just take over, but he'd rather experience life through a human's eyes as best as he can. This ain't gonna happen (Really, spellcheck? None of those words came up?), but we appreciate his efforts. And it's nice that there is in fact, one thing Supes can't do. This movie is all about why Superman needs to be who he is. It may not have the quota of action scenes, but it makes up for it in pacing. Just like Freddy vs. Jason the story is laid out to build the necessary tension for the inevitable confrontation. Terrence Stamp is bizarrely phenomenal as General Zod; I don't really know what his approach to the role was, but damned if he doesn't sell it. The third act battle may be a bit silly in places, but it works.

Result: Superman uses his breath power to push Batman through a supporting wall of a skyscraper. Fortunately, it's only inhabited by mean people who were all about to die of collagen poisoning anyway. Batman has to remind himself that he's Batman as he regains his feet.

Batman Forever (1995)

Joel Schumacher is at the helm now, trying to blend the Burton foundation with the Adam West era of color. The result is the cinematic equivalent of Floam, kind of amusing to play with but not particularly rich in substance. I wanted to like this movie, and at times I did, but I really just couldn't stop thinking of it as the actors cosplaying as their characters. Val Kilmer still looks like Val Kilmer in the cowl, and he certainly didn't appear old enough to be mentoring Chris O'Donnell. Tommy Lee Jones misses an entire fifty percent of who the character of Two-Face is. Nicole Kidman is there doing...something. And Drew Barrymore accidentally walked into the shot a few times. And then there's Jim Carrey. The man refuses to be a team player. The first time I saw the trailer for Ace Ventura I knew the future of comedy was in trouble (thanks for lowering the bar enough so Adam Sandler could have a career, jerk). His Riddler is an afterthought. This is a Jim Carrey vehicle. There's even a moment after he's hijacked the whole movie where Jones has to say in character "Don't forget about me!" It's too late, dude. You're done.

Result: Batman throws a batarang which ricochets among several pressurized tanks of chemicals, spraying Supes in the face with bright colors, making him look very funny. But Batman doesn't laugh, because (gentle reminder) he's Batman.

Superman III (1983)

I think there's a point in every superhero franchise when you think, "This needs more Richard Pryor". I'm not saying it doesn't work, but it remains an odd choice. To the people who whine about the predictability of the genre, I say "Here you go!". The studio is admitting that Richard Lester is the director now, and Margot Kidder bails in the opening scene. Pryor as Gus Whatever is an undiagnosed computer genius who falls in with Robert Vaughn's Lite Luthor. The movie intentionally goes full silly, with a slapstick opening and a video game themed climax (and this was 1983, the year of the video game crash). Dare I say the movie is enjoyable? No, it's not as good as its predecessors, it may not even be good on its own volition, but it has a certain desperate charm. The standout sequence is when Superman is contaminated by artificial Kryptonite and suffers a personality crisis, leading to a surreal (if technically limited) fight with himself. Reeve is still acting his heart out; and God bless him, he didn't have to.

Result: Supes gives as good as he takes. One quick spin, actually about nineteen that only appear as one, and the paint splatters all over the Dark Knight's cowl. The paint dries almost immediately, ruining the mask. Well, from a certain point of view. As the paint leaves Bats looking like Sgt. Kabukiman, the folks at Troma Entertainment open their one bottle of champagne.

Batman and Robin (1997)

Have you ever looked at Joel Schumacher's credentials? It's not a bad track record. I mean, nothing that comes off as a masterpiece, but when you factor in the whole of his career and not just the film with which he's always going to be associated, Schumacher is a competent director. So what the hell happened here? I blame the Warner Brothers studio for caring more about the toy line's appearance in the movie than correctly casting Patrick Stewart as Mr. Freeze. Uma Thurman is fine until she opens her mouth (revealing the Jim Carrey/Scarlett O'Hara amalgamation), and Poison Ivy never recovers. Alicia Silverstone pretends to be Batgirl. Chris O'Donnell pretends to be interesting. Akiva Goldsman's script pretends a plot is happening. And, oh yeah, Bane or something. And get this. They cast ER's George Clooney as the Bat! Poor guy's film career never stood a chance. The only thing I really remember about this mess is how forgettable it is. But I have to respectfully disagree that it's the worst superhero film ever. In fact, give me ten seconds and I can think of one much, much worse.

Result: Being drenched in makeup causes something in Batsy to snap. He pounds helplessly on Supes's steel chest, all the while screaming "You brute! You brute! You vicious brute!"

Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987)

There it is. Some movies wind up being bad because they miss the respectably difficult mark they're aiming for (Ang Lee's Hulk comes to mind). Other movies like Batman and Robin are bad because their target is so reach-out-and-touch-it easy to hit that they come across as insulting. Then there's this. A movie that isn't aiming. This movie is the equivalent of Yosemite Sam firing his guns randomly with his hat pulled down over his eyes. This is essentially a film version of some kid's Superman fan fiction (probably casting themselves in the Jon Cryer role). Superman creates world peace by getting rid of nuclear weapons because it's that simple, but Lex Luthor-, Radioactive Dude-, power drain and recharge-, nobody hurt-, nuclear bombs back-, nothing accomplished-, and Superman 64 is starting to look pretty good right about now.

Result: Supes gives the Bat a much needed hug and declares the fight pointless. He turns to fly away but trips over his own cape on takeoff, veering into a nearby office building where he knocks over a file cabinet and gets his foot stuck in a wastebasket; he tries kicking it off and accidentally hits himself in the face with it.

Batman Begins (2005)

To quote Roger Ebert, "this is the [Batman] movie I did not realize I was waiting for". This is a fantastic origin story, and unlike Spiderman (who gets a reboot every five or six years), it had been eighteen years since Brucey had gone Bat-bankrupt. Like Bryan Singer with X-Men, Christopher Nolan wisely treats the teetering-towards-hokey superhero concept as a drama. Nolan's strength is not in action scenes but in character conversations. And BOY does he get that right. This may be the first superhero film I've ever experienced where I just couldn't get enough of hearing people talk. The unfortunate downside is that the third act becomes kind of...irrelevant (a train blows up or something). But screw the train. Trains are about destinations. This story is about the journey.

Result: Batman changes tactics. He stands over Superman and lectures him. Batsy insults Supes's family, social life, religion and dog; and makes several choice analogies about the intelligence and dress size of Superman's momma, despite having never met her. It's freaking brutal.

Superman Returns (2006)

Really? This was the following year? Somehow I remember this being in its own pocket time dimension. So you know how Bryan Singer knocked it out of the park with X-Men and revitalized the whole superhero genre? Yeah. I have no idea what happened here either. First off, characters don't seem to be talking much, just looking at each other. Secondly, they don't seem to be doing much either. Thirdly, the cast just isn't convincing. Brandon Routh has the look and demeanor of Superboy. Kate Bosworth comes off as Lois Lane's niece. Kevin Spacey does a spot on Gene Hackman impression, it would have been nice to see him actually playing Lex Luthor instead. Parker Posey's sort-of-Harley-Quinn had an out of place charm. And the underappreciated James Marsden is really just getting screen time for the sake of itself, probably an apology for X2. But the biggest problem of all, the movie is boring. It's BORING. And the potential for boring is the first issue that has to be addressed with any Superman story.

Result: Supes dusts himself off and prepares for the verbal comeback to end all Kryptonian comebacks. He clears his throat. "Oh yeah?" he says, "Well, you fight like a cow!" It's sad how pleased he is.

The Dark Knight (2008)

It's impossible not to think of this as Heath Ledger's movie. When his casting was announced, we all thought the same thing, "The First Knight guy as the Joker? That makes about as much sense as casting Luke Skywalker!" But then the early buzz came in, and we as nerds uncharacteristically kept our criticisms to ourselves. Then Ledger died during post-production, and we were obligated to treat him with the same respect we really should be treating everyone on a regular basis. Bottom line, Ledger's performance met the hype. His was an iconic portrayal of an iconic character. It was helped along by a script that was at least as good as its predecessor. The third act action still kind of wanders all over the place, but the opening and the truck scene have a violent poetry to them. But I really want to acknowledge Aaron Eckhart, whose performance as Two-Face was AS good as Ledger's. I'd only seen Eckhart in the maliciously delightful Thank You for Smoking, and I admit to being a little concerned that he'd be unable to pull off Harvey Dent's angry side. I was wrong. He killed it. A few weeks back I did a blog on lines from movies that should be on the AFI top 100 list. I can't believe I forgot to include his chilling "You live...you die."

Result: This is the big one; Batman's fist in a kryptonite glove lined with lead so Supes doesn't see it coming right to the jaw. The man of steel is knocked on his butt, momentarily seeing tiny Mighty Mouses (Mice) flying in a circle over his head like a halo.

Man of Steel (2013)

I feel about Zack Snyder the same way I feel about Tim Burton, he's very good at painting a visual picture but he's out of his league when it comes to conveying character. Nobody in this movie really seems like they want to be there. Kevin Costner is just kind of waiting around for his death scene. Amy Adams's Lois Lane comes off more as her out of place tourist character from Leap Year. And Michael Shannon is just not menacing. He tries, just like he tried in Premium Rush, but he really just seems like his feelings are hurt. Although if they ever make a movie about Conan O'Brien's evicting from The Tonight Show, I think Shannon would be great in the role. The movie is also pretty dismal. And grey. Now Henry Cavill looks the part of Superman, and given the chance to fight for something instead of merely against Zod, he could have been really likable. But this movie feels long. And cram the Christ metaphor down our throats, won't you?

Result: Superman retaliates with a left and a right and a ho, ha ha, guard, turn, parry, dodge, spin, ha, thrust! Several buildings topple like dominoes! And cars blow up! And the stock market crashes! And the price of foodstuff skyrockets! Unfortunately, Batman had stepped out of the way long before Supes threw that first punch, so this is just carnage for the sake of a 225 million dollar budget. Superman then gets depressed.

The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

What the hell happened Nolan? Did somebody tell you they thought The Dark Knight was too happy? This is you, "I'm seeing it. I have a vision. I see...dreary! Not fun dreary, like an Edgar Allen Poe story, but real migraine inducing desolation, like a term paper on Carl Sandburg's poetry! And let's have Batman fake his own death so he and Catwoman can...you know." Okay, so ignoring how un-Batman some of the choices in this movie are, it's SO DAMN DULL! How do you make Batman unengaging? It would be like a James Bond movie where he just does surveillance or data analysis (probably like an actual spy). I don't believe Nolan cared about this movie, and I certainly don't. Ann Hathaway was fun though.

Result: Batman says "You think you can be depressed? Nobody outbroods me! Because I'm Batman!" He sulks so hard that even the Joker calls him up to make sure he's all right.

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016)

Ah, nerd entertainment. What other genre comes so consistently with a built-in backlash? Some of the many MANY criticisms lobbed at this film are valid, most are not. I'm thinking some people had decided going into it that they were going to hate it. Others may have presumed that any flavor different than Marvel was automatically bad. The truth is, I was pleasantly surprised. The movie was what it was, and pretty damn good at being so. My feelings about Zack Snyder still haven't changed, but I'm willing to humor the possibility that he may have actually learned from his past effort what didn't work and fixed it, without swinging the pendulum so far into the wrong territory. Henry Cavill still hasn't had to do much except show up and not suck, and so far I've been pleased with him. There probably is a really strong actor in there waiting to be tapped. Amy Adams fares much better the second time around. She still doesn't have that married-to-her-work vibe that she needs, but at least she feels more professional. Jesse Eisenberg's Lex Luthor. Man, what can I say? I didn't know how I was going to take to him, but damn it all, he won me over. It's a fresh take on a traditionally uninteresting nemesis, and Eisenberg's too-smart-for-his-own-good neurosis just...worked. Then there's Ben Affleck, who's probably spent the past week flipping off the message boards. I'm not trying to brag when I say I did defend the choice of his casting. I AM bragging when I say "Ha ha, I was right! In your face!" He's great as Batman and as Bruce Wayne. Christian Bale may have had some of the better scripts to work with, but Affleck just has the overall Bat-factor. Batman v Jason Bourne next!!! But the final thought: Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman. They got her for dirt cheap, and I'd love to be a fly on the wall during the negotiations to extend her contract (she wanted to be a lawyer at one point). Her Diana Prince exudes the right amount of confidence without needing to prove anything to anyone. And there's that flash of a smile in the final battle where she acknowledges that she's enjoying the action, a sentiment DC seems generally allergic to. Just that moment makes me long for her solo film. Oh, and spoiler alert: she totally saves Batman's ass.
Result: It's been a long and glorious battle of skill, wit and ego that has accomplished nothing. But from out of sky comes the amazonian champion herself, landing between the two gladiators. "Boys?" she says, "You're scaring people. Why don't we take some of that energy and channel it in a more constructive direction?" A mere seconds later, the set pieces for the newest Michael Bay movie lie in rubble and ash.

The Winner: Wonder Woman

Chasing the Rabbit: Chapter Two -A Dream Without a Dream

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It was a curious dream.

Perhaps not as surreal as the one she'd had some time ago, the one that had unlocked her fascination with the world of dreams, but it had a certain down to earth charm about it.

Alice leaned against a large tree on the outskirts of a deep forest, overlooking a tranquil meadow; in as much as the inhabitants of her dream were allowing the tranquility to settle. The small patch of lilies at her feet felt cool to the touch, almost like she was dipping her toes in a gentle brook.

She gazed into the sky, lost in the oil painting of clouds, unmoving. The shapes seemed deliberately abstract, almost defying the creation of an image. Dreams are like that, she thought. They have a tendency to command one's attention to focus on whatever metaphors in which one is meant to engage. And perhaps she was being defiant by refusing to acknowledge the large rabbit that had so recently scurried past her (the one that she was clearly meant to follow), but Alice was at peace. And enjoying it.

But dreams always have a way of out-willing the dreamer's wishes.

An oddly shaped young woman burst through the foliage with no warning. She struggled to steady her breathing, and her long auburn hair was drenched in broken twigs. She stared at Alice with a combination of suspicion and shock.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded as soon as her heart rate would permit.

"I'm Alice," said Alice, which was true yet somehow insufficient for her newfound audience.

"Okay?" The woman stared at her for a very long time. "What are you then?"

"I'm just a little girl." Alice plucked one of the lilies from the patch and offered it to her visitor.

The woman took no notice of the flower. "Are you crazy or something?"

"I should certainly hope not. But dreams do bring out the most irrational of thought processes."

The woman appeared as though she was deciding for herself that Alice was in fact crazy, as she had previously suggested. She reminds me a bit of my sister, Alice thought, though not a precise representation.

Whatever reaction the character was meant to have was cut short by a violent thunderclap, that startled both Alice and her companion, the latter of whom stiffened in terror. "Well, that sounded a bit like a rifle," said Alice.

The woman grabbed her hand and pulled her into a sprint. "Come on!"

"Why are we running?" asked Alice.

"Because we want to live!" the woman shot back an accusing glance. "I assume?"

Strangely, the woman was leading her in a direction other than where the rabbit had gone. "We should go that way."

"What way?"

"That way." Alice pointed. "To follow the rabbit."

"What rabbit?"

"The rabbit that-" Before she could finish, a huge man dressed entirely in black on a matching horse lurched through the brush, waving a massive blade over his head. Except...that he had no head.

"Not a priority, doll."

They ran.

The man on the horse pursued them, cackling in a baritone voice. Alice and her friend had to make several sharp side slides to avoid the man's blade before reaching a dense area across the meadow. A thick wall of shrubs forced them to stop.

"Over!" shouted the woman, and Alice did her best upward scramble with a boost from below. She tumbled over the top into a heap on the other side and rolled own a small slope. A few seconds later, the other woman was right next to her on the ground. "Stay down," she whispered.

Alice didn't look up as the hoof steps came to a crescendo where they had previously been. The horse snorted and the man laughed in an odd triumph. The sounds of galloping into the distance suggested that he was leaving to search for an easier way into the woods.

"Well, that was quite exhilarating," said Alice.

The woman scowled as she pushed herself up to her feet. "All right Hades! This has gone on long enough!"

"Curious," said Alice. "So his name is Hades."

"You've seen him?"

Alice blinked. "Well, yes. Just now. On the horse."

"Not him!" She walked away from Alice and into the woods. "Hades? Where are you, you big blue ox?" Whoever she was talking to was not giving her the response for which she was hoping, and she began pacing.

Alice followed the woman, listening to her mutter something to herself about fine print. "Excuse me, miss?"

"Meg," she said, barely taking any notice of Alice. "Come on. What are we, direct to video? I know you're out there."

"Miss Meg." Alice brushed off her dress. "I was wondering. Could you tell me why the man with no head was chasing us?"

Meg shot Alice a look as if she had asked why pandas didn't read limericks. "What does it matter?"

"It is the nature of nightmares to draw one's attention to that which one is neglecting, yet unaware of its importance."

"You are really living in your own world, aren't you?"

"Quite." Alice smiled. "As do we all when we dream."

Meg shifted her weight to one hip. "Listen lilies. I hate that you missed the wake up call, but this is no dream."

"But surely it must be."

"No," Meg sneered, "it mustn't. This is an honest to gods brush with death from a very large man with a very large sword and a very large vacancy from the neck up."

"But how else could you explain why a man with no head can produce laughter?"

Meg sighed. "Look. I'm not interested in debating logic-"

"Which is the thought process of one who is dreaming," said Alice.

Meg rubbed her forehead before storming off again. "Hades!" she yelled, with a little more willingness to tempt his ego. "Get your signal twenty-five hairdo up here, now!"

Alice watched her go, wondering if she should follow her instead of go in the direction that she'd seen the rabbit go. Dreams had a way of pressing one into the situations that the person's subconscious mind demanded they visit, as opposed to the conscious mind. But in the case where one was dreaming and felt their conscious mind was active, as she did, then perhaps the dream was required to adapt around the dreamer's choices so as to still achieve the ideal result. In that case, it wouldn't matter which way she went.

But she also found Meg to be quite an intriguing character. And she would have regretted losing sight of her when there were so many more interesting discussions to be had.

"Well, that was a very carefully thought out decision," Alice told herself. "If I didn't know better, I'd think I was actually awake after all."

Continued in Chapter Three.
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I'd Like To Thank the Academy, But I'm Not Going To

Another Academy Award ceremony over with. Congratulations to Inside Out and whatever the hell else won. Also a consolation hug to everything that should have won but wasn't even nominated. While I'm at it, thank you to the fifteen percent of Hollywood executives who demonstrate an actual sense of understanding their jobs; and good luck with the imminent financial implosion that the bottom rung consumers know is coming. And I may as well put in a good word for the environment or whatever.

Do you ever scroll through the American Film Institute's lists of greatest lines from movies? A follow-up question: do you ever roll your eyes and think, 'seriously'?

Apparently the criteria they use is for a single line of dialogue to evoke the memory of the movie it's from. That explains why "Rosebud" makes the list, even if it means absolutely nothing on its own. In terms of film, we're clearly talking about Citizen Kane (I mean, duh).

But what about a line like "Well, nobody's perfect"? That's such a common phrase. I realize it's the most memorable moment from Some Like it Hot, but hearing it uttered doesn't immediately recall the movie.

Likewise, is it fair to credit a line like "E.T. phone home" for evoking the movie it's from when it kind of cheats by naming the movie itself? What about a franchise line like "Bond. James Bond"? I don't know about you, but that instantly makes me think My Best Friend's Wedding.

So basically, the system is flawed. And there's no hope of ever putting together a one hundred line list immune to generalized griping. But as an alternative, I suggest it may be time to swap some of the old lines out in favor of equally great (at least) dialogue from some movies that deserve a little more recognition.

Here are five examples to serve a s a revision to the 2005 list.

1. Removed: #61. Say "hello" to my little friend. Scarface (1983)

You almost have to wonder if this line was a deliberate bid for AFI immortality. I'm sure it meant something at some point, but it's been mimicked by every kid who's ever pulled out a water pistol (and never seen the movie) that the phrase is really not going to evoke the drama it intended. We need something stronger.

Replaced with: Well, I'll tell you why not. Clue (1985)

Oh, spoiler alert to those of you who haven't gotten around to seeing a 31 year old comedy classic. This line is in the same spirit as the Scarface. The main difference is, it manages to be a dramatic wham line in the face of one of the most over the top slapstick scenery chewing comedies in cinematic history.

Mr. Green (played by veteran comedian Michael McKean) has been the number one abuse victim of everything from gravity to Tim Curry reviving the hell out of his career. But then in only one-third of the theatrical showings, Green plays his ace. He's an undercover FBI agent, and his marksmanship in the hall with the revolver is the only thing that keeps the villain from winning.

The reason this moment is so great is twofold: Green is the most likable character in the film; and as absurd as the movie has become, reality has a delightfully nasty way of slapping it awake. We'd become so desensitized to death by the third act, it's refreshing that Green shooting Wadsworth can be so poignant. And he gets bonus badass points for not saying "This party's over".

2. Removed: #56. A boy's best friend is his mother. Psycho (1960)

I don't know why the AFI went with this one when "We all go a little mad sometimes" is way cooler. I guess maybe because of how much it reveals about Norman Bates in such a short space; oh yeah, spoiler alert again (jeez, get with the century). We can surmise quite a bit from the way Anthony Perkins delivers this line. Norman is a momma's boy. And there's something off about him. When you combine those two elements it makes everything about the reveal of his motives make sense. That's going to be hard to top.

Replaced with: Why would two hardened KAOS agents...risk the carbs? Get Smart (2008)

I truly hope Steve Carell hasn't peaked already because he was well on his way to being remembered as one of the comedic greats. Maxwell Smart is an iconic character, played to his idiotic best by the late Don Adams. Carell not only makes the character his own, but in my correct opinion makes him even better.

In this incarnation Smart is far from being an idiot, but he clearly has no business being on Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's playing field. That doesn't stop the analyst from wanting the life of a field agent, or believing in himself.

So what we have laced in this single line of dialogue is more layers than some films have. One, Smart has demonstrated his skill and efficiency in translating foreign languages. Two, he has a natural knack for getting inside the heads of CONTROL's enemies to outthink them. Three, Smart's own fear of food due to an obstructive eating disorder (thankfully treated with care for a change) continues to affect him, even at his physical apex. Four, his overconfidence is an obvious mask for a nagging doubt that his boss will ever see him as qualified for the field. And five, in his thoroughness Max misses the significance of the bakery that the KAOS agents are visiting (it's a secret bomb factory). Wow, that's like three more layers than Norman Bates gave us! Comedy wins.

3. Removed: #49. It's alive! It's alive! Frankenstein (1931)

To be fair, this is a really hard line of dialogue to deliver convincingly. You know this moment. Dr. Frankenstein has reanimated the dead, to further the cause of science by doing...I don't know, shut up. Colin Clive is tasked with delivering an unleashed elation and yet strangely controlled (probably for blocking purposes). It's an awakening that clearly changes the flow of the story. The problem is, we can't be happy with him. We know this ends badly. Even in 1931 Universal advertised it as a horror movie, you know going in that Karloff won't be singing Putting on the Ritz.

Replaced with: No, I don't. But...I know someone who does. Galaxy Quest (1999)

In Galaxy Quest Tim Allen plays Jason Nesmith as William Shatner as himself as Captain Kirk. Shatner's relationship with Star Trek fans has been perforated at best. To be fair, the Trekkie spectrum does occasionally cross the line into a level of worship that even the most patient of souls might equate with community psychosis. But it's important to stress that these incidents are the occasions, not the norm. More often, it's like Halloween for adults (or in jock terms, team spirit driven wigs and body paint).

Say what you will about fantasy/sci-fi geeks, but we're nothing short of passionate. We do NASA level research on the things we love, and we roll around on the floor foaming at the mouth when the math doesn't add up because we care so much. Should we care this much? I don't know. The things we love so feverishly really don't matter in the grand illusion of history, but the damage we're capable of inflicting has real world consequences (ask any female videogame developer).

But kept in a healthy check, fandom can be a truly beautiful sight. And that's what this moment is about. We fans may moan and bitch about the entertainment we're given, but we will still shell out the cash for movie tickets and DVDs. The industry stays running because of the consumer. And when Jason Nesmith, in the middle of an intergalactic war, contacts a teenage fanboy for schematics, it's not just a chill inducing comedic/dramatic reveal. It also reads as one of those rare but impactful moments where Hollywood acknowledges its own need for its audience. And says thank you.

4. Removed: #29. You can't handle the truth! A Few Good Men (1992)

I absolutely adore Aaron Sorkin's writing. Any time I do script work I always aspire to Sorkin's level, knowing full well that even missing the mark will still land me in a pretty good place. So here we have Tom Cruise provoking Jack Nicholson into yelling the film's money shot line, that had become a meme back when CIA operatives were dreading the impending Windows 3.1 upgrade. Have you ever actually watched the movie, or even just the scene? The line is actually superfluous. Moments earlier, Nicholson says "I'll answer the question", and it has an impact on the direction of the scene. But people hone in on the loud line that sure sounds important but actually means nothing.

Replaced with: What do you mean, "Flash Gordon approaching"? Flash Gordon (1980)

We need to come to an understanding. This isn't a movie that's so bad it's good. This is a movie that's so good, the things that are bad about it don't matter. Everything from Max von Sydow's convincing sneers to Brian Blessed's bellowing is over the top ham acting to its most poetic extreme. No actor has ever looked as naively optimistic as Sam Jones. No actress has ever topped Ornella Muti's viper with a heart of gold. And I can't even say Timothy Dalton's name without feeling my past life fan girl's voice calling from the void.

And somewhere in the middle of this curiously untapped wellspring for cosplayers, there was Italian actress Mariangela Melato as General Kala, a dominatrix Maleficent. Every line Melato utters in the film is laced with venom, for no reason other than it's in her blood to imbue every action with a cold hatred. All of Mongo views the interloping earthlings as insects to be squashed, but Kala has become the most outwardly irritated with their continued survival.

The scene in question comes after Flash was publicly executed once already, and then left to die in a palace that was blown up from space. Then during Emperor Ming's wedding, the battle room colonel appears on Kala's screen to matter-of-factly inform her that Flash Gordon is approaching. The way she says her reaction line is so...vindictive. There's no fear or surprise, just a complete disbelief that the colonel's words mean what they so obviously mean. By the look on her face, she wants to physically tear through the monitor and strangle the colonel on the spot, and we almost believe she's capable of doing it.

5. Removed: #10. You talking to me? Taxi Driver (1976)

I watched this movie for the first time a few years ago and I honestly don't see what the big deal is. There's this 'voice' among aspiring filmmakers that seems to equate film quality with the ability to bore mainstream audiences. Roger Ebert referred to "You talking to me" as the truest line in Taxi Driver. I would argue that it's the only line that makes an impact. I live with depression, I don't need films to invoke it.

Replaced with: No Biff. You leave her alone. Back to the Future (1985)

All jokes aside, if there's one line in this blog that truly deserves to be on the AFI list, it's this one.

You'd be forgiven for thinking that Back to the Future is a movie about a kid traveling back in time to the 1950's (I mean, not by me. I'll never forgive you for that), but it isn't; it's about this moment. Don't get me wrong, Marty McFly is the hero/protagonist of the story, and Michael J. Fox is electrifying in the role. And Christopher Lloyd is iconic as every lovable mad scientist Doc Brown. But the story is about Marty's father George, the nerd who never stood up for himself and the fallout that happened because of it.

Marty gets accidentally sent back in time, and then accidentally arranges it so his parents don't get together, thus erasing himself from existence. His motivations throughout the movie are justifiably selfish, and he's only ever trying to restore the status quo. But because Marty truly loves his father, he can't help but provide a little extra encouragement that he doesn't even realize he's giving.

And then there's Biff, the bully of all bullies, played by the great yet sadly underused Tom Wilson. Wilson only had to show up and be big to make the character work, but he really pours his soul into Biff, simultaneously transcending him into a metaphor while grounding him into a genuine human being. I find myself hating what Biff is doing to George, but not hating who he is.

So at the climax of this PG rated film, Marty has done everything in his power to restore the timeline, but the pieces have fallen in such a way that Biff is about to drunk rape Marty's mother, and George inadvertently walks in on it. George isn't a lion in sheep's clothing like Lambert, he's an honest to God sheep. There's no lighting strike of Hulk strength forthcoming, and George knows it. But Marty's seeds of encouragement have taken hold, and for the first time in George's life he doesn't back down. Even though he believes he's going to be killed.

The Galaxy Quest line gives me chills. This moment nearly brings me to tears. Every time.

Chasing the Rabbit: Chapter One -It's a Jungle In Here

On its own merit, a jungle isn't necessarily intimidating. True, the inhabitants can be a tad unpredictable. But to a soul with an adventurous spirit (one who is willing to sacrifice security for experience), the lush wilderness can be rather inviting.

Under most circumstances, Princess Jasmine of Agrabah would have relished waking up in the cool shade of the massive leaves that towered majestically over her; and for a brief moment she resided in a deep peace. But too soon the moment was replaced by the unsettling awareness that she had no idea where she was.

Jasmine sat upright and froze, taking in her surroundings. She was alone, in as much as she could tell. A fear surged through her, but she willed it away from showing up as an expression on her face; to an outsider, she was merely alert.

The princess spent several minutes surveying the unfamiliar world around her, listening carefully for signs that she was being watched. Even though she uncovered none, Jasmine couldn't shake the feeling she was being observed. It could have been paranoia from having woken up in the middle of the jungle with no recollection of how she'd gotten there. In fact, that was probably it.

"Genie?" she called out as casually as she was able. Stranger things had happened, but she usually had a pretty good indicator of the origin without much time passing. This time there was no information.

'Aladdin must be looking for me', she thought. She assumed. It was reasonable. But if her...husband? Prince? Fiancée? Now the fear was beginning to show up. She couldn't remember. Aladdin. She loved him, that much she was certain. But there were massive gaps in her memory that were nudging her dangerously close to panicking.

"Aladdin," she whispered his name to herself trying to jog her memory. "Abu. Genie. Rajah. My father, the Sultan-". She stopped abruptly when she couldn't think of his name. "Genie?" she called louder.

Okay, first thing first. Aladdin was likely to be searching for her. If he had a means of finding her in the middle of an unmarked jungle, then he'd likely be able to find her wherever she happened to be at any given time. So there was no reason she should stay in one place. On the other hand, if he was searching for her blindly, it would benefit them both for her to find a more conspicuous spot. Higher ground it was.

She made her most intuitive guess of direction and started walking. The soft ground below her made for a comfortable stroll, but she was too distracted to notice. Jasmine tried to think about what had happened when she'd gone to sleep the night before, but nothing came to mind. Everything in her mind was a sort of long term jumble of memories. There wasn't anything recent. She felt her head for any indication of having taking an amnesia inducing blow. Nothing. Physically, she felt fine.

Jasmine had only walked a short distance when she became aware of a large black panther relaxing on a low branch. It lifted its head to eye her curiously.

Having grown up with Rajah, Jasmine was well versed in the mannerisms of cats. She gathered from the subtle tail movements this large creature had no interest in attacking her, and it hadn't marked her as a potential meal. It just seemed mildly interested.

She veered a healthy arc around the tree that the beast was lounging in, keeping a careful eye out for any change in demeanor. The panther was only watching, nothing else. When she'd finally cleared what she perceived to be the animal's territory, Jasmine gave herself a moment to admire the size and magnificence of the creature.

"You really are beautiful," she told it.

"Thank you," the panther responded indifferently, lowering its head back to a resting position.


Several moments went by with nothing but the sounds of rainforest tranquility. The panther slowly became aware that the human female was still standing in the same place, with her eyes and jaw wide open. He sighed with a bit of a grumble and turned to face her again.

"Did you just talk?" she asked.

"Yes?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but this human seemed entirely too out of place.

"You-", she stepped closer. "I'm sorry. But, do all the animals talk?"

He grimaced. The poor thing wasn't going to survive the day. "Yes. We all do."

"Forgive me," she moved just below his branch. "Can you tell me where I am?"

The panther huffed. "You're in the jungle."

"Does this jungle have a particular name?"

The cat snickered to himself and sprang down to the ground. "Now what sense does it make to give a name to the jungle?"

"I see." Her eyes drifted downward like she was disappointed in his answer. "My name is Jasmine. I'm the princess of Agrabah."

The panther had no idea what Agrabah was, but Jasmine clearly thought of herself as important. "Bagheera."

"I'm grateful to meet you. Can you tell me if there's a place nearby where, you know, people are? I'm kind of lost."

"I figured that much." Bagheera grinned. "There's the man-village just over the plain."

"Man-village?"

"Yes. Just keep heading in that direction," Bagheera gestured toward the sun. "You should be able to- wait a minute."

It didn't seem right to the panther. The direction he'd indicated without so much as a thought suddenly felt unfamiliar. "No, it must be-" 'This way' were the words that escaped him as he realized he wasn't entirely sure where he was. Bagheera needed to get his bearings.


Jasmine had never fidgeted in her life but her fingers began chasing each other on their own as she waited. Bagheera had told her to wait. And she was waiting. He'd bound off without another word, and frighteningly he hadn't needed to give one. For some reason this talking panther was in the same situation she was. Jasmine knew better than to place faith in coincidence.

Bagheera returned with nothing new except a confused look. "Anything?" asked Jasmine, feigning hopefulness.

The panther shook his head.

"Okay, let's think this through. There's two of us. We both woke up in a jungle that isn't familiar. What's the last thing you remember?"

Bagheera thought hard. "There's Baloo, and Mowgli. Shere Khan came back to the jungle..."

"Do you remember going to sleep last night?"

The panther squinted his eyes trying to recover the information that Jasmine had already predicted was lost.

"You know the jungle. Have you ever heard of any of the plants or anything causing someone to lose their memory?"

"The plants?"

"Like, the release of spores or pollen. Anything like that cause lapses?"

"If there are, I don't remember," said Bagheera. The fact that he clearly didn't mean it as a joke made it all the harder for Jasmine to keep her smirk to herself.

"Until we figure this out, do you think we should stick together?"

"That would probably be wise."

Jasmine smiled at her new companion. And Bagheera might have even returned the sentiment were it not for the untimely arrival of a large man with long black hair, broad shoulders and a chin out to there. He burst through the brush out of breath, with a look of petrification on his angular face.

"Miss?" he said to Jasmine. "Do you know the way to Emperor Kuzco's palace?"

Continued in Chapter Two.
Return to the Table of Contents.

The Muppets (TV Series) Review

Beginning with the 2011 film The Muppets, the Disney Studios has been stuck on the question of whether or not the Muppets (specifically the Kermit-Fozzie-Gonzo ensemble, not the Sesame Street or Fraggle Rock franchises) are still relevant. And while the question itself seems to have launched the creative team into a third wave of inspiration, it is at it's own core irrelevant.

The Muppets have never been relevant; in the sense that they're timeless characters, existing outside the scope of such nonsense like relevancy. Historically, the Muppets have always been cool, and somehow always not. Jim Henson's placement in the grand-grand proscenium stage is on par with Chuck Jones and Dr. Seuss. His creations are the embodiment of the human soul, funneled through a simplistic yet accessible medium. And that reflection may fall out of favor with the masses for a while, but it will never go away.

But what about the new series?

You know what's funny? My people (the Monty Python reciting nerds) tend to be highly opinionated whenever something sacred to them gets revisited. For reference see the hatred lobbed at Maleficent, or the boycotting of The Looney Tunes Show, or the dubbing of a Miyazaki film. So I'm about to say something blasphemous, but this is the best TV series the Muppets have ever done.

"WHAT? Moreso than the infallible The Muppet Show? When did Bob Iger buy out your blog, you heathen?" Well to answer your second question first and only, I'm not knocking the original series or suggesting it's any less great than it is. Likewise, The Muppets couldn't be the wonderful new show that it's become without the classic material as a basis.

But, this is to the naysayers, have you watched the old show lately? Pick any episode (not the flawless Alice Cooper one) and do a full survey of what happens. There's always some great stuff, but there's also some weaker material. Most of the humor involves puns, and typically has a character or two being eaten.

Jim Henson intended for the show to appeal to an adult audience, and in a way he succeeded. But you could also make the case that he missed the mark a little. Adults connect with it, but they do so through their inner child. Whenever The Muppet Show re-airs, it's always for the kid's block. Whether or not he wanted to be, Jim was naturally attuned toward a specific sensibility with his comedy.

So when The Muppets was announced as an adult sitcom, it's understandable how people became a bit apprehensive. Was this going to be Avenue Q: the Series? Or was it going to be another Muppets Tonight, sort of playing at the original show without really recapturing the old spark. Thankfully, The Muppets is neither. It's its own thing.

To start with, the Muppets are at their best when they can just be themselves. The characters are so strong, you can just do a thirty minute Q&A with any one of them and it's golden. Here, the slapstick is toned down and the puns are almost non-existent in favor of a more sophisticated brand of humor that focuses on those characters and stems from within the situations. And whereas in the original show where the Muppets were usually tools to make the human guest shine, here the opposite is true. It works.

Some criticism has been lobbed at the early episodes for having too much angry/mean spirited humor. I understand where that opinion is coming from, but I respectfully disagree. It's important for a show like this to be able to develop their pre-existing characters, and the easiest way to accomplish this is by pushing them to their breaking point. And while it's not good to keep them there, it helps to clear the palette.

So what's good about the show? Well practically everything. The pacing, for one. There's never a moment of dead space. Kermit and Piggy's relationship is probably at it's most layered here. Muppeteer Eric Jacobson has always known how to balance Piggy's rough edges with her soft side. Fozzie took a bit longer, but Jacobson has clearly figured the bear's emotional vocabulary out in this incarnation.

Other characters have managed to grow in unexpected ways. Scooter was always a bit of a blank slate, but he really comes into his own in The Muppets. His scenes with Chelsea Handler (Of all people!) feel incredibly natural. Not what I was predicting. There are other supporting players like the Swedish Chef, Dr. Teeth, and Dr. Bunsen Honeydew who only get momentary beats of reveal, but they're solid ones. And it's refreshing to peek behind the clownish exteriors, albeit briefly.

If there's one character who could claim the 'breakout' title, it's Uncle Deadly. He's given one of the most dominant personalities of the batch, and it was a stroke of genius to place him in the most direct contact with Piggy, but to also allow for their collective diva traits to compliment each other as opposed to clashing.

Sam the Eagle is a traditionally difficult fit, but the current production team has found some really interesting uses for him. This time around he seems less prematurely defeated. And his bizarre attraction to Janis is probably doomed, but strangely intriguing.

Bobo. What can I say? Bill Barretta is brilliant as this character. It's not fair to say that Bobo is coming into his own here, because he's always been sharp. But I have to point out that I'd never noticed prior to this series how deadpan this bear is. Think about that in terms of a puppet. Almost always, a puppeteer has to exaggerate to the point of weight loss to get a character to emote. Barretta can pull some of the most laugh out loud moments through this bear's blank stares and mumbles.

Barretta has also revived Jim Henson's Rowlf in full glory. Rowlf is the oldest Muppet star, and the character closest to Jim's actual presence. There's something magical about Kermit (and Gonzo in one episode) seeking out Rowlf for spiritual guidance. The dog is due for a comeback in a big way, and I love how he's treated with a certain 'one of us, but kind of not' respect. And Rowlf's utterance of the word 'damn' in one scene strangely didn't bother me.

So are there any weaknesses? A couple of nitpicks I suppose. Robin's voice stood out as not really working for me. Johnny Fiama and Sal are noticeably absent. But really the big one for me is how diminished Gonzo's presence is. Back in the nineties, Gonzo practically held the Muppets together. There's one purely Gonzo-centric episode, and it's probably my favorite of the whole series. Here's hoping the next film is The Cheapest Muppet Movie Ever Made finally.

The bottom line: if you already hate this series on principle, there's nothing I can say to sway you. On the other hand, if you've missed checking it out and still have reservations, by all means give it a chance. The 'adult' factor has nothing to do with Family Guy jokes like I was fearing. It's about the complexity of emotions relating to breakups, self doubt, and workplace stress. The Muppets have spent their existences preparing to handle those nuances. It's a fresh canvas for them to paint on, and in the end it's a beautiful exhibit.