Cinema Paradiso (1988)

(Originally released as Nuovo Cinema Paradiso)

Starring: Antonella Attili, Enzo Cannavale, Isa Danieli, Leo Gullotta, Marco Leonardi, Pupella Maggio

First, The Lowdown: A famous filmmaker recalls the movie theater of his childhood.

In a tiny village in remote Sicily, a young boy by the name of Salvatore spends all of his free time sneaking into the village theater (which also serves as the church.) His dalliances there frequently come to conflict with his mother, the local priest, and most especially the projectionist, Alfredo, who is required by the local clergy to preview every new movie so that any scenes that involve romantic kissing or touching can be spliced out.

Despite the finger-wagging by his superiors, Salvatore is entranced by the world of the theater, so much so that he learns the trade of running the projector from Alfredo. When an accident in the projection room deprives Alfredo of his sight and the village of their cinema, a patron uses his newly-won wealth to commission the building of a grander theater: Cinema Paradiso.

Salvatore takes over the job of projectionist from Alfredo, and as the years advance, he grows into a strong man who begins to explore the world of film on his own with this own camera. However, life has a way of changing quicker than one wants to, and Salvatore finds himself drafted into service with the Army. Upon his return, Alfredo chides Salvatore for keeping himself chained to the village of his birth out of a misplaced sense of duty. Alfredo insists that Salvatore leave and never look back, otherwise he may be trapped forever.

I remember when this came out the critical acclaim used the typical buzz words of “spectacular” and “astounding” and “a movie that reminds you of what movies used to be”. To be honest, I didn’t find any of those statements to be fitting. If anything, what I witnessed was an overlong movie with a leaden plot. It’s not to say that the story itself was boring or unoriginal, but where there was one movie being shown, there really should have been three.

It was unsurprising to me when I found out that Cinema Paradiso was intended to be a statement on the current state of film during the time it was released, but instead of showing us the wonder of the flickering images, we are treated to montage after montage of gap-mouthed people looking blankly at the screen.

Line of the Movie: “Progress always comes late.”

Three stars. Take me out to the ball game.

My Trek of the Stars, Part 3: Mudd’s Women

Guest Starring: Roger C. Carmel, Karen Steele, Maggie Thrett, Susan Denberg, Jim Goodwin

First, the Lowdown: The Enterprise picks up a sleazy con-artist and his cargo of Vegas showgirls.

So, there’s the Enterprise, in hot pursuit of an unregistered cargo ship. We’re not given an exact reason why they’re pursuing it, but as anyone who’s been pulled over by the police can attest, it’s probably because their blinker isn’t working. But of course the cargo ship’s commander shows all the cool composure as your average driver in World’s Craziest Police Chases and veers directly toward an asteroid field.

Kirk isn’t a total dick, though, and has the Enterprise’s shields extended around the cargo ship to protect it – even though it means an incredible drain on his own vessel. Realizing that he’s finally in over his head, the cargo ship commander radios for assistance – and just in the nick of time too: his ship gets struck by an asteroid and is destroyed (what about the shields protecting it?) seconds after the commander and crew are transported aboard.

The commander is a smarmy gent who calls himself Leo Walsh and seems none too affected by the loss of his ship. The remaining people on board his ship however, are three women who look like they’re ready for their gig as backup dancers for Tom Jones at the Flamingo. Of course, this being a television show made in the sixties, whenever a beautiful woman in soft focus appears on screen, you can expect most of the male cast members to act like someone slipped Thorazine into their coffee.

Kirk demands to see Walsh and company in his cabin to get some explanation for his actions, and of course he also has a similar reaction as his crewmates to the young lovelies that saunter into his office. Fortunately Kirk is able to conceal his hard-on because he’s sitting at his desk, and informs Walsh that both he and his crew are under charges. Walsh corrects Kirk, on his terminology – the female cohorts aren’t exactly crew, but “cargo”. That’s much like saying that your young 20-year old trophy wife isn’t so much a spouse as “furniture.” Kirk confines the group to quarters until he can figure out what to do with them – or more to the point, how to do it to them discreetly.

But the Enterprise has problems of its own. Seems that Walsh’s little reenactment of the O.J. Simpson highway chase has burnt out all but one of the Enterprise’s lithium crystal circuits. You know that one time you and your college buddies spent all your gas money on beer, and you had to jostle the car just enough to get fumes into the engine to limp your way home? Yeah, it’s like that. Fortunately, there is a lithium mining colony on nearby Rigel XII where they can score some new crystals without having to call Mom home collect so she can wire them some cash.

In the meantime, Walsh has been prepping his “female units” for the upcoming ship’s hearing – insisting the girls answer all questions truthfully, but not allow themselves to be medically examined. Then again, Walsh could’ve explained to the rest of the crew that his girls only speak Sexy and the crew probably would’ve bought it.

The ship’s hearing is convened, and Walsh explains that his main profession is in the “wiving” of settlers. (For more information on how you at home can profit from this wholesome entrepreneurial venture, merely look up “white slavery” on the inter-webs for a free quick-start guide!) Each of the ladies left an environment where their social prospects were limited or non-existent, and decided to seek their fortunes in the arms of an anonymous stranger. Suddenly those Russian & Filipino bride orders don’t seem so bad anymore. However, the interrogation is assisted by the ship’s computer, and as anyone who has watched 1960’s sci-fi can tell you, computers can smell out a lie like a fart in a taxi cab. The computer calls bullshit on Leo Walsh’s name and reputation. Turns out that the man calling himself Leo Walsh with a smarmy Irish brogue is actually Harcourt Fenton Mudd, who speaks with an accent that sounds like a looser version of Charles Winchester from M.A.S.H. Mudd’s reputation is about as sullied as a Republican senatorial page after a weekend “togetherness retreat” – having been arrested many times on theft and smuggling charges. Kirk has heard enough and decides to foist Mudd off on the proper authorities and let them deal with it. But at that moment, the final lithium crystal gives up the ghost, forcing the Enterprise to limp onward using only battery power. Figuring they can scrape up the change under the floormats for at least one crystal, Kirk orders the ship to haul ass to Rigel. Mudd knows the sound of money when he hears it though and hatches a plan. He tells his women that soon their financial woes will be over with once they’re married to the hale, hearty, and wealthy prospectors on Rigel. He also suggests they try to win one or two of the miners over with a free stress exam and a copy of Dianetics.

So whilst the Enterprise is en route to Rigel, the lady-creatures stroll about the ship, wresting information from its mostly-male and extremely pliable crew using their boobied powers of beguilement. From their outing, they not only find out that there are three miners down on Rigel (how handy!), but also manage to palm a communicator off a crewman. (Word to the wise, gents: the next time an unbelievably hot chick cops a feel off of you, make sure your wallet and iPhone are where you put them.) One of the ladies, Eve, slides her way into Kirk’s quarters with the firm intention on seducing his brains out, but at the last minute confesses that she can’t go through with it, even though Harry Mudd told her to do so. Eve returns back to her quarters, tells Harry that Gloria Steinem was right, and collapses in the corner saying that “it’s almost time.” Harry, however, uses his purloined communicator to contact the Rigel prospectors before Kirk can, and strikes up a bargain.

But it’s not all wheeling and dealing as Harry’s girls soon start to resemble a soccer mom the morning after a marguerita bender. After quickly rifling through his quarters, he finds a pill box containing the ladies’ “medicine” – which transforms them back into the Rubenesque strippers they previously were.

The miners arrive onboard the Enterprise, and Kirk offers to pay them up front for their crystals, but instead the lead miner – Childress – asks to see Harry’s women as barter and also asks for Mudd’s release. Furthermore, Childress lets Kirk know that there’s no way in hell the Enterprise is gonna find lithium crystals on their own, not even with their fancy-schmancy sensors and such. Kirk tells the flinty laborers to keep their dirty hands off his womenfolk and boots them off the ship, even though the Enterprise is slowly dieseling to a complete and total stop.

Down on Rigel, the miners have decided to throw a mixer for Mudd’s women, even though Kirk is becoming increasingly aware of the possibility of his ship dropping out of the sky like a defective Macy’s Day Parade balloon. Eve is getting increasingly sickened by the prospect of being auctioned off like a foreclosed crack house and runs outside into a raging sandstorm. Childress goes off after her, leaving Kirk to contemplate the horrors of unprotected reentry into a planet’s atmosphere.

Childress finally finds Eve and drags her back to his squalid hovel, and passes out from exhaustion. (Dragging a showgirl around ain’t no easy task.) Hours later, Childress is awakened to the smell of Eve cooking, and is disturbed by the fact that she’s only been in his place for two hours and already she’s picked up the clothes off his floor. Meanwhile, Kirk and company have been scanning for Eve’s location up in the Enterprise and have detected Childress’s cook stove. And it’s a good thing too, because a few more hours later Eve’s drugs have worn off and Childress is starting to look at her like he had just woken up next to Tammy Faye Baker. Fortunately Kirk and Mudd arrive to explain what’s going on: the pills that Harry has been giving his women are Venus drugs – which instantly make you appear attractive. (Unlike Botox, which only makes you think you appear more attractive.) Eve points out to Childress that he and his cohorts only seem to be interested in a woman who is hyped up on the pretty sauce, rather than someone who knows how to take care of herself. Childress, concedes the matter with a “Yes, dear,” and gives Kirk the crystals he’s been so obviously vying for.

Things to look for in this episode:

The soundtrack: Whenever one of Mudd’s chicas enters the frame, the score makes it appear like you’re going to see them in their pasties soon. I’m surprised there wasn’t a brassiere flung at a crewman’s head.

Harcourt Fenton Mudd: He’s supposed to be this pirate/pimp, but in reality he acts like the boorish antagonist out of one of Oscar Wilde’s comedies.

What is McCoy not today? Capable of forming complete sentences in the presence of a woman. That’s not what they meant by “bedside manner,” Herr Doktor.

And what about Spock? Spock has his usual “not-completely human” half-smirk on his face. I guess the human male’s inability to think straight with an erection is the height of Vulcan comedy.

The Science Of Sleep (2006)

(Originally released as La Science des rêves)

Starring: Gael Garcia Bernal, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Alain Chabat, Miou-Miou, Pierre Vaneck

First, The Lowdown: An artist who spends most of his time in his own head falls in love.

Stephane has just returned to France albeit reluctantly after the insistence of his mother. Mother has promised him not only a place to stay (in the flat where he grew up), but also a job doing graphic design at a local firm. Unfortunately, the apartment stirs up too many uncomfortable memories of his childhood – especially of his father, whom Stephane moved in with after his parents’ divorce. The job equally turns out to be a sham, instead of being a lead designer for a calendar, Stephane is a simple paste boy for a pornographic datebook instead.

Leaving for work one day, he encounters his next door neighbor, Stephanie and her best friend Christine. Stephane is initially attracted to Christine, but the more he talks with Stephanie, the more he is intrigued by her imagination. However, his attraction for either woman has a large obstacle to it.

You see, Stephane lives in his head. Literally. In Stephane’s mind a never ending cable-access talk show is being broadcast, with himself as the host. Sometimes it helps him with his dreams, other times it serves as a forum for his inner chorus. But above all, Stephane spends so much time wrapped up in his own head that much of what he experiences comes of as something he is merely observing and not participating in. To further complicate things, Stephane is extremely creative, so much so that he often forgets where his flights of fancy end and the real world begin.

The Science Of Sleep was Michel Gondry’s first film after Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and it has often been labeled as a low-cost independent version of that movie. While I will admit the two films have their similarities, thematically they are pretty far apart. Where Sunshine is a discourse on the nature of memory and its relationship to whom we love, Science seems to be more about finding a balance between whimsy and maturity.

One thing I loved about the movie is the interactions between Stephane and Stephanie. As a pair, they seem perfect for each other – and yet the same things that are drawing them together are also keeping themselves apart.

Line of the Movie: “The brain is the most complex thing in the universe and it's right behind the nose.”

Four stars. Cheer up, you pile of sad.

My Trek of the Stars, Part 2: The Corbomite Maneuver

Guest Starring: Clint Howard, Anthony Call, Ted Cassidy, Eddie Paskey, William Blackburn

First, the Lowdown: The Enterprise is menaced by a gigantic IKEA-made starship and its dippy looking commander.

So, no shit, there’s the Enterprise doing stellar cartography when all of the sudden its path is blocked by a SPINNING CUBE OF DOOM! It obviously imposes some kind of threat to the ship, at least that’s what the theme music and acting would have you believe, but quite frankly it looks more like the Wisdom Cube from Aqua Teen Hunger Force (don’t ask it about the time it ate boiled peanuts.)

Captain Kirk, in a marvelous display of restraint tries every which way he can think of to maneuver the ship around the offending rhomboid, but the SPINNING CUBE OF DOOM! is about as determined to intercept the Enterprise as those annoying survey guys are in a mall. To make matters worse the SPINNING CUBE OF DOOM! starts to spew out radiation. Having had enough of the SPINNING CUBE OF DOOM!, Kirk orders the thing destroyed before it starts wallpapering the Enterprise with copies of The Watchtower.

Satisfied that the peril is done with, the Enterprise continues on with the same menial task that they performed before. Kirk, unimpressed by the whiny Lt. Bailey’s slowness in response to his commands, orders the crew undergo attack simulations to improve their reaction time.

Things are going swell until all of the sudden an even bigger alien object shows up on their front door. This one now looks like an escaped chandelier from The Inn of Tomorrowland. The alien ship is MEGA-HUGE, however, so the crew takes a few moments to gape at it – with the exception of Bailey who just wets his pants quietly to himself. The ship calls itself the Fesarius and its commander, Balok, lets the Enterprise know that he is incredibly pissed off that they destroyed his SPINNING CUBE OF DOOM! Spock during all of this, manages to generate a visual of Balok, and he looks like a hydroencephalic version of the Crypt Keeper. (Then again, it could be Spock’s attempt of making light of their adversary. Kinda like drawing a picture of the bill collector that’s haranguing you on the phone as a magic, talking butt. “Look at me! I’m a talking butt! And you’re past due on your credit cards!”)

Kirk tries to tell him that the Enterprise was just minding its own business until that pesky cube started saying shit about their mama, so naturally they’re gonna pop a cap in anything that steps up to them. Balok dismisses their claim with a, “Oh no, you di’nt!” immobilizes the ship and tells them they have 10 minutes to make peace with their maker before the Enterprise is destroyed. Bailey reacts in a manner consistent with all trained professionals during times of crisis: he craps in his hand and begins throwing it at the other members of the bridge. Kirk tries pleading with Balok, but the stern alien commander is as intractable as Bill O’Reilly coming onto a wardrobe mistress.

By now, the Enterprise has pissed away all but three minutes of their remaining time. When Kirk asks Spock for advice on their predicament, he compares their situation to a game of chess – summing up that they are royally en passanted up their castle. Not one to take failure lightly, Kirk gets Balok on the horn again and makes vague threats. He tells the fugly alien that they have a super secret device made of Corbomite that will, in effect, turn the Enterprise into rubber and the Fesarius into glue. Kirk also adds that the word “gullible” cannot be found in the computer’s online dictionary.

Balok responds with “It is TOO in the dictionary, and if you look up the word ‘dipshit’ it’s got a picture of YOU under it, Kirk.” But also concedes that, while he does not believe the Enterprise is really capable of possessing a super-secret, uber-huge, explody thing, he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that hell, either so orders a tug vessel to tow the Enterprise out to his home turf, where they will imprison the crew, destroy the Enterprise, and then pee on the ashes while they watch.

The tug vessel is miniscule in comparison to the gaudy thing that is the Fesarius, so Kirk orders that they shear away from the alien ship’s tractor beam, which not only frees the Enterprise, but also disables the tug so completely that it can’t send for help. Seeing his big chance, Kirk assembles a boarding party of himself, McCoy, Spock, and Bailey (probably to use as a body shield if things went wrong.)

After being transported onto the other vessel, they find Balok, in all his fugliness – and he’s a puppet. In the next room, they are humbled before the chilling visage of the real Balok – and it’s Clnit Howard! The hideous, snaggle-mawed, troll invites them to chat and offers them all a glass of Tranya, which as anyone who’s been to a sci-fi convention can tell you, is nothing more than Tang made with pure grain alcohol. Balok explains to the Enterprise that he had used the whole setup to divine their true motives. He also states that he had to use the puppet to intimidate them because they wouldn’t have been afraid of lil’ ol’ him. (Apparently there are no mirrors on his ship.) Kirk feigns understanding, which is probably all he could do to keep himself from picking up the misshapen midget by his ankles and dashing him on the floor. Balok also tells him that he is lonely and desires some kind of companionship to accompany him on his journey, so that the two cultures can learn more about each other. Instead of referring Balok to Craigslist, Kirk instead volunteers Lt. Bailey, probably to relieve the rest of the crew of Bailey’s incessant whining.

Things to look for in this episode:

The SPINNING CUBE OF DOOM!: No matter how hard they try to make it so with music and reaction shots, it’s not threatening. I kept expecting one of the Smurfs to come out of it.

The Fesarius: Seriously, it looks like the Krell machine from Forbidden Planet.

Balok: It’s bad enough he starts out being a dippy-looking alien that sounds like a really pissed off Don Pardo, but then to have him turn out to be Clint Howard? That kid could ugly paint off of walls.

What is McCoy not today? A moon-shuttle pilot. Because it’s the future ‘n all.

And what about Spock? Spock’s main job seems to be to creep the hell out of the crew: first by bringing up the visual of Balok, then by informing the captain that the Enterprise is essentially screwed by using a chess analogy. Someone should explain the concept of esprit de corps to him.

My Trek of the Stars, Part 1: Where No Man Has Gone Before

(Out of boredom I have decided to do some reviews of Star Trek episodes, just to spice things up on ABOB.)

Guest Starring: Gary Lockwood, Sally Kellerman, Paul Carr, Paul Fix, Lloyd Haynes, Andrea Dromm

First, the Lowdown: An attempt to penetrate the energy field surrounding the galaxy gives two crewmen psychic powers. Douchebaggery ensues.

The intrepid crew of the Enterprise was leisurely meandering to the far reaches of the galaxy when they encounter the log-buoy for the Valiant, which had been previously lost centuries ago. After bringing the clunky piece of hardware aboard (which looked like a fugitive from The Black Hole), they examine its record tapes and find them mostly destroyed. What little remains doesn’t make much sense, oh wait, yeah it does. It outlines the Valiant’s failed attempt at plowing messily through the galactic barrier, its subsequent psychic effect on a single crewmember, and the captain’s orders to self-destruct the ship before things got out of hand. (I’m assuming the bits which were burnt out was the first-mate’s weblog in which he whines about how no one understands him and threatens to cut himself again. And lost band lyrics for Rush.)

Captain Kirk, having a learning disability which prevents him from recognizing foreshadowing (even when it’s dropped from the sky in big blocky letters), decides that the Enterprise is going to force its way out of the barrier in the exactly the same fashion – after all, what are the odds of something like that happening twice right? Right?

Sure enough, as soon as our brave vessel enters that swirling miasma of energy, the ship’s controls go all higglety-pigglety, panels explode, and two of the bridge crew collapse: Gary Mitchell, navigator and Kirk’s best friend; and Dr. Elizabeth Dehner, the ship’s shrink. When Mitchell opens his eyes though, he looks like an extra from The Omega Man. Dr. Dehner, on the other hand, is seemingly unaffected.

There are bigger concerns, however. Kirk’s drunken wanderings into an obviously dangerous area of space have played havoc with the ship, and the Enterprise’s warp engines now look like the inside of Amy Winehouse’s car. As the ship limps away to a nearby mining planet, Mitchell is resting in sick bay because the rest of the crew is too squicked out by his eyes.

To make matters worse, not only is Mitchell able to read at a fantastic rate of speed, but he is able to call things to his mind and flip buttons on the ship at will. It also has made him a bit of a high-minded jackass. Mr. Spock reminds the audience- I mean suggests to the captain that the same thing happened on the Valiant and that something must be done to Professor Mitchell before he turns into a full blown douchebag with godlike powers. (Think Karl Rove, only psychic.)

Having arrived at the mining facility, the Enterprise makes repairs – and Kirk and Spock figure out the most effective way of stranding Mitchell on the planet like a blind date in a busy bar. Mitchell, however, becomes only all too aware of their plans and makes his escape with Dr. Dehner, how has manifested powers and creepy Omega Man eyes of her own.

Rather than cutting his losses, fleeing the planet, and posting a big sign on the front lawn saying “WARNING: GOD-LIKE DOUCHEBAG ON PREMISES”, Kirk decides to solve this dilemma the only way he knows how – with his fists. Unfortunately, he seemed to forget that Mitchell’s abilities are now on par with Neo’s in the last few minutes of the first Matrix movie, and gets tossed about like a Hannah Montana doll in a K-Mart. So, Kirk has to rely on the only other weapon in his arsenal – moralistic rhetoric. Kirk’s exposition on the tyranny of Mitchell’s actions (which kinda ignore the whole “don’t piss off the god-like doucebag” angle) foments doubt in Dehner’s mind and she lashes out at Mitchell with her own powers (which are obviously subdued because she’s a chick.) This gives Kirk enough time to pummel the shit out of his best friend (which no doubt resolved some lingering personal issues between the two men, “This is for using my toothbrush to clean the toilet!”). And everything gets resolved with Mitchell being buried in a grave of his own making.

Things to look for in this episode:

• Gary Lockwood as Gary Mitchell. Most sci-fi geeks will know him better as Frank Poole from 2001: A Space Odyssey, where instead of being a douchebag with godlike powers he’s a douchebag engineer who gets jettisoned into space by an evil computer.
• Sally Kellerman as Elizabeth Dehner. Or as anyone who grew up in the 1980s would better know her as – the announcer chick for Hidden Valley Ranch.
• Scotty’s first appearance in the series… And he forgot to shave. I’m not joking on this one, either. Look for him in the transporter room, he looks like he woke up after a bender.

Award for Best On-Screen Death: Lt. Kelso, who reacts to being strangled in the wackiest way possible.

What is McCoy not today? In this episode apparently.

Does Sulu get stoned? Not in this one. Physics officer Sulu was too busy making up simple analogies to get high in this one.

And what about Spock? Spock does a lot of yelling in this episode. A lot of yelling. And at the beginning when talking about one of Kirk’s “earth emotions” he comes off like Tucker Carlson talking about women’s health.

Annie Hall (1977)

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Tony Roberts, Carol Kane, Paul Simon, Shelley Duvall

First, the Lowdown: A comedian breaks up with his girlfriend and tries to figure out how the relationship failed.

My fellow fans and reprobates, I’m going to break from my usual reviewing style here by forgoing any attempt at synopsizing this film and instead cut straight to the critique of it. “Why?” might you ask? Because it’s a film that kinda defies any attempt to sum it up – I could tell you moments of the film, or specific lines (“Twins, Max. 16 years-old. Can you imagine the mathematical possibities?”), but really Annie Hall is a movie that you are either going to get or not, much like most of Woody Allen’s work. And even still the only way you know if you’re going to get it or not is by watching it.

As usual, Annie Hall comes off as semi-autobiographical, or at the very least, self-analytical. Having only watched a handful of Woody Allen previously, I can say that while Annie Hall is chocked full of Woody’s usual directorial indulgences (Marshall McLuhan comes in from off-screen and dresses down a pseudo-intellectual), here they are used to good effect instead of coming off as Woody Allen saying “Why did I film it that way? Because I can, you moron.”

Directorial whimsy aside, Allen manages to engage his audience through storytelling (something most American movie studios have forgotten about.) What makes Annie Hall so cool is that it presents its viewers with a situation nearly everyone of us has been in – that moment of retrospection after a breakup that vacillates between self-flagellation and righteous indignation. Both Annie and Alvy are perfectly flawed and perfectly realistic.

One thing of note – Annie Hall is one of those cinema classics that everyone has to have seen because all these other movies borrow from it. And to be honest, I have to agree here: nearly every romantic comedy I’ve seen from about 1987 onward has either blatantly ripped off or paid homage to Annie Hall in some small way or another - especially if that movie has wall-breaking on-screen narration.

Annie Hall is most definitely a product of the 1970’s, however. And I’m not even referring to the fashion either, just look at the mainstream acceptance of psychotherapy, drug use, intellectualism, sex, and the female orgasm (“With your wife in bed, does she need some kind of artificial stimulation, like marijuana?” “We use a large vibrating egg.”) One of my favorite scenes has our couple in Los Angeles at the grand estate of a music producer, and all of the guests are wearing their individualistic quirks like fashion accessories. (Jeff Goldblum’s walk-on cameo sums it up best: “I forgot my mantra.”

Line of the movie: “I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable.”

Four and a half stars. Give me cookie!