Hammer To Fall: Arturo vs. Thor!

It's going to be tough to really judge Thor until Marvel completes the franchise it's been building over the past few years - and that won't happen until we get through both Captain America: The First Avenger and, of course, the whole Avengers enchilada, mostly because this is as much a set-up piece as its' own story, something made very clear by the scenes both right before and right after the credits roll.

What we do get prior to that, though, isn't too shabby, and Thor succeeds in carving out its' own story. It's not as flashy as Iron Man and, thank goodness, not as self-indulgent as Iron Man 2, but most of the time, director Kenneth Branagh and the trio of writers behind the screenplay give just enough time to the title character, a man stuck between two worlds by his own forceful hand.

VERILY, THERE BE SPOILERS IN OUR PATH

One key similarity, though, between Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and the aforementioned Tony Stark, is that they're both Alpha Males at heart who are forced to learn how to dial that back - more bluntly, they have to stop being jackasses long enough to fully realize their potential.

But whereas Stark learns his lesson (sorta) trapped in the relative isolation of a cave, Thor has his power and rank stripped by a mournful father Odin (Anthony Hopkins, getting his Jor-El on) and is banished not just out of Asgard, but to ... New Mexico.

Like many an overconfident jock before him, Hemsworth's Thor goes from being the Golden Boy in his small community to literally being a man with no (accepted) name, a very small fish in a bigger "realm." The early scenes of Thor getting knocked unconscious drive Odin's point home as much as his ill-advised raid on the Frost Giants: without his privilege or his otherworldly gift, Thor is ill-equipped to handle life on its' own terms. At least, not without help.

Luckily for Thor, such help does arrive, in the form of Jane Foster, a scientist who stumbles onto - well, more like runs into him during his arrival. As Foster, Natalie Portman seems to do nothing but be stressing out most of the time. She's not bad at it, but it's never quite made clear why she's interested in the big blond, besides his pecs.

Oddly enough, the viewer gets to see more of Thor's gradual smartening-up than does the love interest. Give Hemsworth credit for conveying the appropriate importance to Thor's crucial encounters with both Jane's protective co-worker Erik ("I've seen how she looks at you") and his sibling Loki. When Thor is called upon to really become a hero, the moment is authentic. But most of his actual interaction with Jane involves vaguely-cheesy flirtations. Here's to hoping their relationship is really fleshed out over the course of future films.

Speaking of Loki, give the writers and Branagh credit for letting Tom Hiddleston ride this role across the Rainbow Bridge and beyond. The character's growth is just as steady as Thor's, but Hiddleston accomplishes his in an appropriately subtle fashion for the Trickster of Asgard. His Loki is all knowing looks and proper things to say, and, we come to find out, a set of motives more plausible than your average villain's.

So even if the whole isn't quite as much as the sum of its' parts, Thor manages to create interest for an eventual sequel. That is, unless it's rendered anti-climactic after the Avengers assemble.

The Ghost Of 'Fan Entitlement': Arturo vs. Doctor Who: A Christmas Carol!

The prevailing trend so far in Steven Moffat's stewardship of Doctor Who has been to write the Big Episodes - Matt Smith's debut, the Season Five finale - at a break-neck pace, with Smith's Eleventh Doctor racing around until he stumbles into a solution. This year's Christmas special doesn't change that, as Smith at times threatens to out-hyper even the somewhat manic David Tennant. It's not a bad episode, but even Smith's charm and some game performances can't quite cover up some flaws - some character-driven, some pointing to a bigger problem.

SPOILERS AHEAD

But let's start with the positive. The genius of the episode was Eleven's decision to use "A Christmas Carol" as the basis for what amounts to a con - literally, convincing the miserly Kazran Sardick to re-rig his atmospheric control device so as to allow Rory and Amy's honeymoon cruise ship to land safely on the surface of ... whatever Sardick's planet is called.

(Come to think of it, why a planet presumably beyond our solar system would not only have inhabitants who dress and act like Victorian-era Londoners but airborne fish and sharks that look just like the ones you find on ours is never even hinted at. But we're trying to stay positive here.)

As the elder Sardick - both of them, in fact, as he also plays Kazran's domineering father - Michael Gambon delivers the kind of oomph you'd want of a Serious Actor moonlighting on this kind of show. As it turns out, The Doctor's scheme goes awry; his feel-good machinations lead the teenage Sardick (Danny Horn, an unsung standout as the pivot-point of this subplot) to fall for the terminally-ill Abigail (opera singer Katherine Jenkins). (What's wrong with Abigail? Why doesn't The Doctor even attempt to cure her? Wait, no, Positive!)

Abigail, you see, is cryogenically held as a lien on an undisclosed debt her family owes Sardick's father. How much do they owe? It must be somewhere in Wesley Snipes territory, as, rather than help the family raise up the funds to free her, The Doctor opts to chaperone Teen Kazran on a yearly series of Date Nights with Abi. When she 'fesses up that her time is running out, Kaz's heart shrinks all over again, forcing Eleven into a singularly troubling last-ditch effort. And here's where my good cheer toward the episode gets tempered.

As the older Kazran, Gambon perfectly sells the aftermath of that heartache, even if the fact that it numbs his character to the potential deaths of hundreds of people (and Amy and Rory!) steers him well south of "regretful old man" into "vengeful bastard" territory. To finally sway him, The Doctor plays the Christmas Future card - but against his childhood self, bringing Kiddie Kaz into the here and now to face the old man he will grow up to be. The shock for both Kazrans is palpable, and again, all credit is due to both Gambon and Laurence Belcher as his youngest self for capturing the moment.

But for fans, even New Whovians, there's also this to consider: in arranging the meeting, The Doctor willingly breaks one of his own rules; not only has he inserted himself into a timeline after becoming a part of events, but the meeting of the two Kazrans violates the Blinovich Limitation Effect - in effect, creating a paradox.

It must be said that the BLE isn't just some old device from the original series; it's been referenced repeatedly since Russell T. Davies revived Who five years ago. One of the first centerpiece episodes in the series' renaissance, "Father's Day," dealt with what can happen when you mess with your own timeline, best of intentions be damned. As recently as this past season in "The Hungry Earth," Eleven tells Amy and Rory not to get too close to their future selves.

At this point I want to say, again: I enjoyed "A Christmas Carol." But that doesn't mean the Kazran encounter doesn't bug me just a little. Nor should it mean that it can't. But even a little bit of a hand-wave - for example, Eleven saying something like, "I really shouldn't do this, but ..." - would've been it for me. After all, in last season's finale, Amy's younger and present-day selves met, but because the timelines around Earth had deteriorated by that point, it made "sense." (Although I also can't blame the inimitable Matt Bremner for dubbing "The Big Bang" CIRCULAR LOGIC - WE HAS IT!)

What's more disappointing than that plot point, though, is the response to bringing it up: "It's Christmas" or some variant of, "OMFG YOU'RE WRONG AND BAD FOR TALKING ABOUT IT." At some point in fandom, paying attention to things like continuity became something to be penalized for.

It'd be one thing for Steven Moffat to say, "It's just a show" (more on that in a bit) but when fans start demonizing each other as Comic Book Store Guys for things that even hint at critical analysis, that's a more-slippery slope. What's often derided as "entitlement" is really closer to investment: we watch or download shows like Doctor Who because we enjoy them, but asking that they play fair by their universe's own rules, or acknowledge when they don't, isn't automatically a fit of capriciousness. It's a recognition that attention to details of the past - like, say, Eleven hamming it up in a long scarf - can help elevate a series, and the lack thereof is often a symptom of bigger problems. Anybody who watched Heroes spiral into self-parody can tell you about that.

So it's perfectly possible that the Kazran Effect won't be reflected upon Doctor Who's upcoming sixth season. But it's not unreasonable to feel just a tingle of wearyness. "Time Can Be Rewritten" was meant as a threat during the Davies era, but it seems to have become a mantra for Moffat. If he's not too careful, that shark The Doctor and friends tamed Christmas Day might be the one they jump over later.

formspring.me

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/ABoyNamedArt

The Blonde: One Year Later

Previously:

What happens next, I'm proud of: I walk up to them and say, calmly, "Excuse me." She's got the balls to be surprised to see me. I hand her back her mixtape, and the cheap-ass vodka, and say, "Goodbye." And I walk away - first to settle our tab and say goodbye to @Soulcamp at the bar, and then up the 25+ blocks to my brothers Jason and Kev-Fu's apartment, where I'd have two Whiskey & Cokes to settle me down. As I'm leaving the parking lot, she texts me: "meant no harm." I take 10 seconds for my reply: Sure you didn't.

There was actually an epilogue to this: for a month or two after this, she'd send me text messages, maybe not daily, but every other day: the tone would vary from vaguely annoyed ("Come on, Art") to vaguely friendly ("Hey, how's it goin'?"). Finally, she decided to call me one afternoon. After another few seconds of vagueness, I just let her have it.

"I thought I said goodbye," I told her. Several awkward seconds later - on her part - she hung up. The weird thing about the moment was the feeling of something leaving me. I felt ... lighter. That feeling hasn't entirely gone away since.

Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago, outside a favorite coffee haunt of mine, when I hear a slight "Oh my God" from my left. I can't tell you if I actually heard it or I just felt like somebody was or should have been saying it, but there she was. I excused myself from my friends and walked up to her.

"I thought I sensed a disturbance in The Force," I said. We walked around the corner and finally, she let me have it.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I acted like a cad." And I thanked her, sincerely.

In the days since, she's gone back to sending vague texts ("How's yr day?") but we haven't met up again. In a perverse way, I wonder if the psychology of modern "dating" is actually protecting me: if I express interest in grabbing coffee or something, she'll back off, and not contact me for a few days. Then the cycle, such as it is, begins again.

But it's more likely she doesn't really care. And maybe I shouldn't, either.

Ask Art Anything #1

In an effort to keep things lively around here, I signed up for Formspring, which will pass questions along to be answered both here and on my twitter account. Here goes nothing ...

What music are you listening to today?

As usual, it's a hodge-podge of stuff, but if you look on my blip.fm page, "The Metro," by Berlin, is the most recent track.

Ask me anything

2010 A.D.: Arturo vs. Doctor Who: The End Of Time!

SPOILERS AHEAD

Everybody knew The End Of Time was all about one thing: the final moments of David Tennant as The Tenth Doctor - a perfect 10, for this new (re)generation of Whovians. Much like Ten, it's hard to imagine many of us thought about a season where he wouldn't be guiding some well-meaning sap, and us, through time and space. Life After David? Even Inigo Montoya would have called it Inconceivable even a year ago.

But, again, much like this Doctor, we've had a teeth-gnashing few months to prepare for the inevitable. The end of his Song had been signed and sealed. All we could hope for was a fittingly grand delivery. And Tennant was more than up to the task. The problem was, show-runner Russell T. Davies - penning his own swansong as well as Tennant's - came up way too short in swinging for the fences one last time.

Most of the two hours preceding Tennant's final moments in the TARDIS revolved around The Doctor seemingly facing three different threats, but the sum of his three adversaries was decidedly less than each of the parts: The creepy neo-futurist Naismith family stuck out like Week 6 baddies in over their depth, solely introduced so they could introduce the latest thingaMacguffin. And for all the bluster and gravitas Timothy Dalton provided as Chancellor PalpatineLord President Rassilon, the emergence of a war-crazed, nihilistic batch of Time Lords was good for nothing more than a two-minute scare. After the events of The Stolen Earth, it was more surprising the average Londoner didn't see Gallifrey hovering above, shrug and huff off complaining about why it's always Saturday when the nutters come out.

In reality, the Doctor's last dance partner was, fittingly, John Simm's Master, resurrected by a horribly disposable set of worshippers as a binge-eating, energy-blasting cross between Goku and Agent Smith, particularly when he uses the Macguffin Ray to go John Malkovich across the whole planet.

"What would I be without you?" Ten asks the Master at one point, in one of the little moments they share just before each shuffles off. And it's in those moments where the story, such as it is, stops to breathe and feels more natural as a result. Those bits of humanity also resurface in the conversations between The Doctor and good old Wilfred Mott, where the Doc finally releases the guilt that's been building at least since The Waters Of Mars. He also tells Wilf, and us, why the thought of this death rattles him so, when it would likely lead to another Regeneration, anyway.

"Even if I change, it feels like dying," Ten sniffs, fighting his sadness and anger at once. "Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away. And I'm dead." When the mysterious Four Knocks signalling his death finally come, at the hands of a trapped Wilf, the Doctor actually hesitates before coming to the rescue, complaining, "I can do SO MUCH MORE!"

And it's those moments which finally set up the end of his road, making the rest of the story's misfires and unanswered questions - who was the woman coming to Wilfred? Where did the Master and the Time Lords end up? How could Donna's mental block survive this whole thing? etc. - tolerable, if nothing else.

Because for all that went wrong with this story, and with this Doctor, the heart just kept shining through. This Doctor loved life seemingly more than all his other incarnations, making his final few words truly heart-breaking. But time must move on, even if Time Lords don't, and here comes a new era, bounding in with big hair, a burning TARDIS and a "GERONIMO!" ...

Turn Wrong: Arturo vs. Doctor Who: The Waters Of Mars!

SPOILERS AHEAD AND IN THE LINKS POSTED HERE

There's a moment in "The Waters Of Mars" where we see The Tenth Doctor doing his ... well, his Thing: working another last-ditch plan that he knows is going to save everyone, and you know it's going to save everyone, and so does the person he's rescuing.

But what makes this episode work is that, even as we see the Doc at his most life-affirming, his most ambitious moment yet, both you and the rescuee - in this case, the formidable Capt. Adelaide Brooke - know that he is absolutely wrong.

As we learn nearly immediately upon Ten's arrival on the Red Planet, the case of Capt. Brooke and her crew represents, like Pompeii did, a "fixed point" in time, which has come to be short-hand for an awful thing that Must Happen. Brooke's death, he confesses, is the impetus for all tomorrow's star treks: "Your death creates history," he tells Adelaide, who must realize she spent her whole life building up to its' end.

Once again, The Doctor isn't there to save anyone, merely to bear witness. And this time, the Doctor - a truly Lonely God, without a Companion to buoy him or his fellow Time Lords to rein him in - cracks. Seemingly on the side of good, initially, as he gets Adelaide and some of her staff out of harm's way, but the slope is already slippery; as she chides him for breaking his own rules, his only response is a raised eyebrow and one word: "Tough."

If all this sounds like it's ignoring the baddie of the week or the rest of Adelaide's crook, well, it kinda is. They're not bad, as "mid-season" episode groups of characters go - the unnamed lifeform that picks off the crew is clever enough to up the ante as need be - but the episode turns on the final 10 minutes, when Ten goes off the rails and realizes it too late. The Cloister Bell is tolling for him. And this time, both he and you know the end is coming.


Top image courtesy of oneGemini Studios

FRIDAY MORNING TACVBA II!

We'd previously talked about Cafe Tacvba here, but on this most somber of mornings, a bit of whimsy couldn't hurt. Enjoy a special 5-song set.

FRIDAY MORNING MALDITA!

What with Mexican Independence Day approaching, I figured the most enjoyable way to get into the spirit of things this month would be to share some rock from the Motherland. Kicking things off is a set from the mighty Maldita Vecindad. Enjoy!

Is May Parker the next Hannah Montana?

From Disney's perspective, the storylines that set so many fanboy hearts and message boards aflutter don't particularly matter. It's the properties (read: characters) they contain, and what Disney can do with those properties, that count.

Because Disney's real business is the business of Doing Things With Properties. This deal is about what will get made from the raw material those characters represent, through licensing: toys, TV, movies, games, sleepwear and thrill rides.
- Glen Weldon, NPR

Even if the coverage of the Marvel/Disney deal focuses on how Marvel can help Disney market itself better to young men - and, man, is it creepy to read professionals talk about Disney's "Boy Problem" - I can't help but think of that as too narrow a strategy. Because Marvel has too many characters who could also hook Disney's existing female viewership.

Let's not forget, the Distinguished Competition has dominated the TV/DVD animated boys' market for years, arguably from the moment any of us watched the opening of Batman: The Animated Series. From there we got the Justice League series, more straight-to-video Bat-flicks, and recent stories featuring Green Lantern and Wonder Woman, and the adaptation of Darwyn Cooke's New Frontier. That's a sizable head start, even if Marvel's recent animated fare hasn't been bad.

But, should Marvel and Disney decide to give girls a wider range of heroine than usual, that could shift the balance of power on the DVD racks. Consider Spider-Girl up there: a character with an existing fanbase - one that had saved her book from cancellation several times, and perhaps best of all, a character with a more malleable continuity to work with, since she's an "alternate-future" character. One good animated film or TV series and voila! Mayday backpacks fit in perfectly alongside their plain ol' "Princesses."

As if by coincidence - or was it? OMG CONSPIRACY! - Marvel offered up another prime candidate for multimedia exposure in the X-Men's Pixie, who's slated to get her own mini-series later this year. The X-Franchise, in fact, could yield a treasure-trove of "new" stars: Kitty Pryde, Storm, Illyana Rasputin, and even Wolfsbane come to mind right off the bat. Outside of Xavier's School, you've got Araña; Ms. Marvel, the Runaways and She-Hulk potentially waiting in the wings.

So while we've been assured that "sparks will fly" after the initial meetings between Marvel and Pixar, as a fan, I'm hoping we get more than the umpteenth animated Wolverine or Iron Man - hell, Logan and Tony are already going to be in anime, so we're good. As a fan, and a consumer, I want to see innovation, I want to see diversity, I want to see Pixar finally listen to Linda Holmes. I want this deal to result in more work for male and female voice-actors and animators. I want this deal to kick DC in the ass enough to give me a Blue Beetle animated film. I want this to really, truly change the game beyond the boardroom. And, hell, even if I'm an old fanboy, I want my friends who have daughters and sons to see that the little girls don't have to look up only to the girl with the glass shoe, or the blonde wig - the one with the web-shooters can make just as good of a heroine.

Thoughts on Disney/Marvel Part I

If nothing else, I'm happy Disney bought Marvel yesterday because it's already yielded enough LULz for the rest of the year, what with people calling out for stuff like WALL-E: Herald Of Galactus, Mulan, Agent of SHIELD, Ducktales Noir and the like.

Like a lot of folks, though, I was initially skeptical of the theory that the merger won't affect Marvel's content - after all, that theory was seemingly based on the Everything Is Always Fine In Comics school of thought.

After reading reactions and updates throughout the day, though, I do agree that there's reason to believe the Mouse House will play nice with the House Of Ideas - and not just because of the Disney/Miramax connection. One clue might in fact come from the Distinguished Competition.

After all, DC's long been a subsidiary of Warner Brothers, and that hasn't appeared to slow down Vertigo or WildStorm. And DC's main imprint has, in recent years, been centered on events like Identity Crisis, Infinite Crisis and now Blackest Night, which all drew criticism for their subject matter and violent imagery. And titles like Judd Winick's run on Outsiders and Secret Six are closer to, say, a series on FX than something on Kids' WB. And, hey, the quality control can't be that strict if we're still getting Cry For Justice. (rimshot)

So no, I don't think we're going to see Deadpool forced to shoot only for the kneecap, or The Punisher work for angels again (though even that can't be as bad as the previews I've seen for FrankenCastle.) At least, I don't think so. If X-Force or Deadpool seem to quietly slip away, or if Shatterstar seems to suddenly ditch Rictor for a girl, the questions will come back again.



Top image courtesy of Bleeding Cool

HOUR 42: Two Days Of Richard Hatch!

So, yeah, lots going on. I've got more thoughts on that later. But things have been exciting around the HOUR 42 camp, too, as we did two back-to-back shows Sunday and Monday as @ThePeterPixie and I set out to answer the question: Who the Frak is Richard Hatch?

Last night, we aired our nearly hour-long chat with RH in its' entirety - covering not just his TV career, but his thoughts on a new BSG movie, and his work as a motivational speaker. That's the first thing you can listen to on the player below.

Just behind that is our regular Sunday show, where we played excerpts from the interview, and also discussed:

* The Megan Fox-as-Catwoman rumor, and the Chick we endorsed for the role
* The latest discussion over what constitutes comic-book "gossip"
* It's Nerds v. Jocks - at Marvel!
* My newest dating adventure at SoulGeek

Thanks to everybody who's been listening so far. Enjoy these two shows, and as ever, we've got more in store for you ... as soon as this bloody heat stops.

FRIDAY MORNING GALACTICA!

Apologies for being away for awhile. I've been spending more and more time working on stuff for the show, along with @ThePeterPixie. Here's a recap of the past couple of weeks:

* This past Sunday, we talked about online comics, particularly Longbox, an iTunes-like service that will debut in the fall.
* The week prior, I wasn't available - that's a story I owe you - so I left Peter not one, but two guests: The Nerdy Bird filled in for me as a guest host, and we were visited by a new Twitter friend of mine, Kat Hill, aka the Action Flick Chick.

This Sunday, though, we'll talk to our biggest guest yet: Richard Hatch of BSG fame - both of them. We'll cover topics like:

* His involvement with a new geek-centric dating service, SoulGeek
* His work as a motivational speaker
* His prolific workrate in the '70s - seriously, dude appeared on just about every show for a few years there
* Playing not just the original Apollo, but Tom Zarek
* His connection to the original BSG, which inspired him to make his own trailer for a sequel to it:



Plus we'll be announcing an ... experiment I'll be undertaking on behalf of the show. Hope you can join us Sunday - 7pm PST, 10p EST!

FRIDAY MORNING LIVEMASH!

I stumbled onto The Cool Table while looking up mash-ups online, and became a fan within seconds. For awhile now, I've associated the genre with DJs and clever studio work. But these guys (and gal) do it live. Check out these first two clips:



Not bad, right? "Dreaming of Mr. Brightside," for me, was even better - it's part of a new karaoke project (yes, I have karaoke projects).

OWIE: The Extended Remix

Ok, so I've been doing a lot of clean-up around the Hall of Justice, and recovering from a week of TECHFAIL. While we're clearing the decks, this post needs some explanation. The accident actually happened four years ago last month; the text that ended up here was taken from my original blog post the night it happened - yes, I blogged after getting in a wreck - and the full story surrounding it has become one of my favorites. So let's start over, with the original text in italics.
**********

It was just after 5 p.m. Tuesday and I was leaving work, turning east onto Rancho Bernardo Rd. just after the light had turned green. I was making my turn when I vaguely remember a shape coming in from the driver's side, toward the rear of the car. Then everything shook.

My next memory is of laying in the driver's seat while a guy -- I think he had a goatee -- asked me how I was and said he was calling 911. I have another vague recollection of talking to medical personnel. And that's about all I remember from the street.

I presume that's all I remember because I either blacked out completely or was sedated by EMTs after being loaded into the ambulance. Either way, while I was taken to the hospital, the emergency call went out to the SLB House, where Brothers J-Mac and Kev-Fu were watching tv as usual. They were all set to head up to the hospital to check on me - only they had literally just ordered a pizza before the hospital called them. So they waited for the pizza guy.

"The guy probably thought we were crazy," Kev-Fu later told me. "When he got to the house, we grabbed the pizza, put it in the refrigerator, and practically threw the money at him before we took off."

Next thing I know, it's past 8 in the evening and I'm in a hospital. My roomies Jim & Kev-Fu are already there, having apparently been alerted by the authorities. (Did I give them the house number? I wonder.) My spirits were pretty high, all things considered. I didn't notice the pain until later. I apparently asked the boys four times how their days went, confirming my concussion. But otherwise, things were okay: we joked around and I tried, vainly, to get one of the cuter nurses to come over and re-examine me. I also asked if we could import a particular female cast member in a nurse's outfit. I'm blaming that on shell-shock.

In the years since, the boys have never failed to remind me that I didn't repeat the same question four times. In fact, one exchange apparently went like this:

Dazed Me: So, what time did you get the call?
J-Mac: 7:30, just like the other seven times you asked.

We apparently ended up going round and round in this discussion for a few minutes while my brain adjusted itself back to consciousness. I do, however, remember the moment it all clicked back into place: a nurse asked me, "What do you take for pain?"

"Captain & Coke," I answered. Kev-Fu immediately looked at her and said, "He's gonna be fine." I imagine the hospital was only too happy to see us leave.

The drive home was pretty uneventful; Kev, who's sustained three concussions of his own, assured me this first one was easy. We arrived to find our Brother LBJ and cast leader Amy watching Cannibal: The Musical. I came in with both my shirt and undershirt torn, having been cut open by the authorities, exposing the long, slim mark from my seat belt on my left shoulder. They looked at me and probably thought, naturally, "WTF?"

"Mild concussion. Got in a car wreck," I said (or at least think I did.) "Not necessarily in that order."

After that, I relaxed on Amy's lap while pitching into callbacks for the movie, ate some chieken soup and drank Gatorade. I tried to get to bed a couple of hours ago, but I'm too tired to rest, if that makes any sense. I haven't had any nightmares yet about this, so maybe they won't come. Tomorrow, Kevin assured me, would be the most painful day: "It'll be like a really big hangover," he said.

And that's where the original entry ends. To write it, I clambered upstairs to my computer like Gollum to the Ring, just to get it all down on the screen. My roommates didn't get my glasses back from the hospital, so I used an old outdated prescription pair. A week later, I had to drive Kev-Fu's old junkster car to recover my stuff from the hospital lost-and-found; apparently I'd badgered the poor EMTs into packing everything from my car. And, yeah, I drove to get the items. The day after the accident, I decided I had to get back on the road ASAP to get over any fears of driving. But I'd be lying if I told you I don't still flinch sometimes at 4-way stops or stop lights.

The worst part, though, is this: I didn't even hear about the pizza until a year later. They never even saved me a piece.

Shrimpin' Ain't Easy: Arturo vs. District 9!

The much ballyhooed District 9 succeeds at one thing – it leaves you with questions. The problem is, not all of them are of the good kind.

The film's conceit – sticking a million-plus misplaced extraterrestrials in the middle of Johannesburg – is promising. But from there, the story is built on a series of cheats, the biggest one being the rather loud absence of the word that, like it or not, comes to mind once you set the story in South Africa: Apartheid.

SPOILERS AHEAD

It's implied that the District is a stand-in for the Soweto of our own reality. But, again, that's a cheat: we're robbed of a potentially more potent commentary because of that substitution. Getting viewers to say, “Wow, humans are capable of great inhumanity” isn't as ground-breaking as co-writer and director Neill Blomkamp might want to think. And to think that any government would be handling a First Contact situation (as opposed to the internment of its' own citizens) without the U.S., United Nations or any other coalition tugging at its' sleeve isn't sci-fi – it's flat-out ridiculous.

The story kicks off 28 years after the visitors' arrival on Earth, but it's not really about them – our protagonist, and literal tour guide is well-meaning office schmuck Wilkus Van Der Merwe (Sharlto Copley), a Christopher Guest character in way, way, way over his head. Wilkus is placed in charge of serving eviction notices to the District's residents and selling them on the new FEMA government housing they're getting shipped to.

While investigating a squatter's shack, Wilkus is sprayed with some of “the fluid,” a crucial biological material. Not only does it power the aliens' rather impressive weaponry, but it's the key to the escape plan of one Christopher Johnson, as a singularly clever Prawn is dubbed. Christopher has been plotting for 20 years to get the hell off this planet, and needs the juice to power his getaway craft and revive his people's mothership, still hovering over Johannesburg.

It's worth noting that Copley co-produced the inspiration for District 9, Alive In Joburg, a short film where the aliens get a fairer shake from Blomkamp; one of them gets to talk directly to the unseen documentarians and express a motivation (they just want to get off this planet) and a problem (our atmosphere is toxic to their physiology). There was a similar scene in the trailer for District, but it's not in the theatrical cut, which makes Christopher's positioning as the Noble Other/Savage really troubling.

Why is Christopher so much smarter than his fellow refugees? How could he be the only one trying to find a way out, or to know/care enough to clothe himself in a “human” manner? And, if humans and Prawn are able to understand each other by the time the “footage” is released, why did the documentarians – because that's how the first half of this film is framed – exclude interviews with any of the aliens in favor of black South Africans telling us how threatened they feel, and white South Africans denigrating the species as a whole?

We get no insight into any of this, because the movie retreats, very jarringly, into the realm of summer schlock after Wilkus' infection. As he becomes a test subject, a fugitive, and a less-than-altruistic ally to Christopher, their characters run headlong into caricatures: a wheelchair-bound, voodoo-influenced Nigerian gangster exploiting the Prawns for cash and weapons while eating their body parts on the advice of a “priestess”; and a xenophobic mercenary charged with turning Wilkus in to his slimy CEO father-in-law.

Copley isn't bad at all – his Wilkus is a terrific anti-hero. But could Christopher and his son, both CGI characters who summon up more “humanity” than the real-life Shia LaBouf, really have been less palatable figures for the audience and creative team to rally behind? Because the story we get, with awesome-looking alien tech and a white hero standing up for the Oppressed, doesn't end up going anywhere Torchwood didn't just saunter through with more brains and less blood; at least Russell T. Davies would've given Christopher's race a name. By the time the film reaches its (open-ended) conclusion, you're left hoping the visitors would return for vengeance – so that you could root for them.

FRIDAY MORNING ... KATTAN?

Last night, two Facebook friends asked me the same question: how did Chris Kattan get his own miniseries?

I'm working on a review of the answer right now - it's called Bollywood Hero, and it aired on the IFC network a few days back. I don't have any clip of CK actually doing the Bollywood thing, but here's the trailer for those of you who missed it:



Aside from Kattan, though, most of the film's cast are Bollywood veterans, including Neha Dhupia, seen below with Sunny Deol:



On a personal note, I'm actually surprised, in the wake of Slumdog Millionaire, that we're not even hearing about more Bollywood crossovers into the States. But it should also be noted that, even before Slumdog, we had Bride & Prejudice, starring Aishwarya Rai, although in this number, the spotlight also shines on somebody you Losties might recognize:

Open Thread: The Best Of The Doctor

As reported by Tennant News this morning:

Doctor Who Greatest Moments is a new series taking viewers on a journey through time and space to relive all the action from the legendary sci-fi show, featuring exclusive interviews with key actors offering unique insights on the classic moments.
In the first hour long episode, the likes of David Tennant, John Barrowman, David Morrissey and the League of Gentlemen's Mark Gatiss guide us through the Time Lord himself's greatest moments.

Watch Doctor Who's Greatest Moments: The Doctor on Thursday 20th August at 20:00pm on BBC Three.

So that got me to wondering: what are your favorite moments from the series? Whovians old and new are invited to chime in.

Tonight, HOUR 42 goes Hollywood!

Tonight, @ThePeterPixie and I welcome our first guest with his own listing on IMDB - Ray Griggs, writer and director of the new independent superhero film, Super Capers! We'll talk to him about his experience so far as a relatively new filmmaker, and try to get a few good Adam West stories out of him.

Peter and I will also trade notes on G.I. Joe - what, you thought I'd let him get away without seeing it? Also:

* Just two weeks after San Diego, Chicago hosts its own comic-book convention - we'll bring you the highlights.
* We'll talk about some of the rather ... interesting creative choices that were published this week. Bottle of grappa, anyone?
* Plus YOUR comments and questions at 646-716-4799

In the meantime, if you want to catch up on last week's show, which featured even more guest-stars, just click on the handy-dandy player below - then come on back and join us at 7pm PST (10p EST) tonight for HOUR 42!

More 'Oh No' than 'Yo Joe': Arturo vs. G.I. Joe: The Rise Of Cobra

The most surprising thing about G.I. Joe: The Rise Of Cobra? It could've been worse.

But make no mistake: if this film doesn't make a Lusitania out of what could've been a fun franchise,the first three elements to go from any sequels should be writers Stephen Beattie, David Elliot and Paul Lovett, with director Stephen Sommers not far behind.

At least the marketing team is in on the joke: using Kid Rock in the ad campaign is a warning that G.I. Joe is years behind its' time – it really belongs alongside Street Fighter and The Crow: City of Angels in a Rifftrax '90s Film Festival; why else would the first words we see on the screen be “In The Not-Too-Distant Future”?

HERE THERE BE SPOILERS

Like another bloated '80s revamp (to be named later) laced with bad CGI and no-dimensional heroes, Rise is crippled most by the attempt to “humanize” its' core characters. In this case, it's done through a romantic subplot between Duke and The Baroness. It doesn't help that, as an action hero, Channing Tatum makes John Cena look like The Rock. But the real disservice is done to the Baroness, who in Sienna Miller's hands goes from a magnificent '80s she-bastard to Girl Gone Mild-ly Bad - with a heart of gold, of course.

Other than the spayed Baroness, the villains in this film fare better than I'd expected. The flashback sequences used as backstory for the men who become Cobra Commander (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Destro (Christopher Eccleston) actually work, and both Eccleston and Gordon-Levitt manage to wring something out of their cartoonish inspirations. Gordon-Levitt, in fact, stole the film – petty larceny, I know, but a feat I'd expected out of Eccleston. JGL's voice-acting was the film's most pleasant surprise; it holds up admirably alongside Chris Latta's original work.

Unfortunately for the film, the Joes' characters – especially Dennis Quaid as General Hawk – fare as badly as the Cobras' do well. The Army recruiters setting up shop at my local theatre would be much better off showing characters like Ripcord, Scarlett and Breaker in either the film's source material or Warren Ellis' more recent G.I. Joe: Resolute series, where they were naturally cool, rather than the generic grunts we see here.

The only hero to escape the creative team's clutches is Snake-Eyes, proving Ray Park's intelligence as an actor – bad writers can't hijack your character if they can't write dialogue, so Park is left free to do what he does best: the “Ninja Thing,” playing off Byung-hun Lee's Storm Shadow, re-imagined here as a metrosexual assassin. But, as with CC and Destro, at least Stormy isn't a buffoon. And, hey, he also makes with the beefcake, to balance out the "hot quotient" with Miller and Rachel Nichols, I guess.

In the end, though, G.I. Joe will be remembered most as a spiritual cousin to – you guessed it – Transformers 2: a co-tenant at the low point of American summer cinema, separated only by its' lacking Michael Bay's sense of xenophobia. I envy the marketing flacks who have to find positive pull-quotes for this film, but they can have this:

The Rise Of Cobra is better than Revenge Of The Fallen ...

... but not by much. Yo, Stay Home.