The Book of Basketball by Bill Simmons

Bill Simmons, AKA The Sports Guy, is obsessed with basketball. As Malcolm Gladwell points out in his forward to Simmons’ mammoth Book of Basketball, Simmons is one of the few people in America who can afford to follow sports so closely that he can spend three years researching and writing the history of the NBA. The rest of us – we have jobs, spouses, hobbies, and sleep schedules. Some of us want to watch sports all the time, but we either feel guilty or we get in trouble for allowing them to dominate our lives. Myself, I have all day Sunday and Monday night. That’s my time (though not all the time). I can sit down in front of the TV at 1 pm on Sunday, watch 10 hours of football, eat when I remember to, and then go to bed. The rest of the week, sports are mainly off limits. For Simmons, a man who has made himself wealthy as a sportswriter and podcasting pioneer, watching sports is his job.

In The Book of Basketball, Simmons makes it a point to right basketball history’s wrongs. He corrects and expands the reader’s perceptions about hundreds of players who have excelled at the game. In one lengthy section, he ranks the top 98 basketball players of all time, placing them into five levels of a excellence that accounts for the player’s individual statistics, his team’s success, and the era in which he played. In another chapter, he reviews the league’s MVP award, telling us which players deserved to win that year and which did not, even pointing out the absolute travesties. Additionally, since his message through the book is that basketball is a team game based upon secret knowledge few players attain, he examines the best single season teams of all time. Wait, there’s more, not content with the game’s history, he pieces together his perfect team, taking players at their peak, putting them into a time machine, and preparing the team’s plays for a hypothetical basketball game versus an alien race, with the fate of the human race hanging in the balance. (I can see the movie now. Think of Bill and Ted recruiting players to challenge the aliens in Mars Attacks. Only it’s not a comedy.)

Simmons’ examination of the NBA history would be a little dull if not for the pop culture humor he sprinkles throughout the book, comparing movie plots to basketball scenarios (with a multitude of fantastic Boogie Nights analogies). Few people care about the NBA as much as Simmons. He is like the high school English teacher who loves Shakespeare far more than his students, but cares enough to take the time to translate the prose. Here, Simmons explains the brilliance of certain superstars, as well as the true nature and motivation of basketball’s greatest villains. He makes an effective argument as to why Bill Russell is better than Wilt Chamberlain, and explains in detail what makes Michael Jordon such an unstoppable force of nature (and not just on the basketball court). He is sharing his esoteric understanding of the game with those willing to listen and he certainly has my attention.

Those who follow Simmons’ podcast, The B.S. Report, will know that he put a lot of hard work into this book and that he is very proud of the result. He has been writing brilliant columns for ESPN over the past decade and this is his first book of original material. He claims that it is the best book he will ever write. I disagree. Simmons is too good to be delving into statistics and writing what is essentially a history of the NBA. When he talks about the players and teams he loves, its riveting; when he outlines the statistical achievements of players he has never seen play, I wasn’t nearly as engaged. The best section of this book is his description of Paul Pierce, a career Celtic who was nearly stabbed to death in his 2nd year in the league, spent almost a decade starring on a team that had no championship hopes (even losing 18 games in a row at one point), and seemed to be heading down the wrong path mentally. Simmons’ description of Pierce’s resurgence, attitude adjustment, and eventual starring role on the 2008 NBA Champions is a heartfelt account of a player that The Sports Guy cheered for throughout the decade. Simmons is a Boston native, probably the Celtic’s biggest fan, and the perfect person to describe Pierce because he cares so much about the player’s legacy. These are the stories I want to hear. Now that he has given us a full account of the game’s history, I want to hear more about his history with the game.

Terminator Salvation

I wanted to cry ‘Mercy’ several times while watching Terminator Salvation, the latest installment in a franchise that opened with one of the most innovative action movies ever made; followed with a film that redefined the boundaries of special effects with the liquid metal T-1000, which sounded even cooler when described by Ah-nold; and then overstayed its welcome. Terminator 3 was underwhelming, a television show called Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles pushed the series to lower depths, and now Terminator Salvation strips the story down into an endless chase sequence. I lost count of the battle scenes about half way into the movie, and became more and more angered by this film’s total lack of substance towards the conclusion. Many of the action sequences were well made, and could have served as the film’s climax; I just find it had to get excited for action movies when the filmmakers have neglected to include a suspenseful build up to the scene.

If The Terminator made your head hurt, this film will leave you dazed. In the original film, a human-looking machine (if you think Arnold looks like a human)  was sent back to kill Sarah Connor, the mother of John Conner, a man who would lead a revolution against self-aware machines in the aftermath of a nuclear war. John Conner sends back his most trusted soldier to 1984 to protect his mother, and this soldier ends up being John’s father. How does that work? Don’t ask. In this latest installment, which takes place before the futuristic events of the original film, the machines are intent on killing both John and Kyle Reese, the young soldier he would eventually send back to protect and impregnate his mother.  Reese is captured about halfway through the film, and even logic driven machines make the mistake of keeping him alive. This was funny in the Bond films, here, its just inane. The machines never seem to get their man, and since they are now going after the whole bloodline, why not just dispatch hordes of robots across the paths of history with the hope of killing at least one member of the Conner family. I never asked these questions during the first two Terminators, mainly because they were so damn entertaining and suspenseful. Now that the film has regressed into endless action, I am starting to question the small snippets of plot interspersed.

The legendary John Conner should be the central focus of the movie. He was touted as a great leader by Reese, but the film doesn’t examine his legend very closely. His short wave radio seems to be his main proselytizing tool; he is essential a futuristic radio personality bringing comfort and hope to the masses. He also seems to be something of a reckless gladiator, always on the front lines and willing to go on solo missions against the orders of his commanders. His actions in this movie are the stuff of legend, but he already seems to be a legend because of his sermons. I suppose that he knows he is infallible because letters from his mother told him so. He certainly must live long enough to be able to send Reese, about 20 in this movie, closer to 30 in original, back to create his own legend, provided they thwart the machines’ attempts here to kill them both, which they must or else we would have to forget the first three movies ever existed!

The film is not a total disaster. Christian Bale is a great choice to play Conner. He is a great actor who has been hiding behind the Batman mask for too long. He certainly has the right intensity to play a bellicose man like Conner, as evidenced in this famous clip from the set. He nails the difficult moment when he first meets Reese, the significance of which he knows but Reese does not. However, the role could have been better, his leadership examined more closely. The film’s true leader is Marcus Wright, a man who seems to wake up amidst the war, unsure why humanity seems on the verge of extinction. Sam Worthington, soon to be the star of Avatar, plays Wright with a quiet intensity, intent on saving his friend Reese, who is the first person he meets. However, aside from good performances from the two leads and few very good action sequences, this film probably isn’t worth seeing. If you want to see a suspenseful action film, rent The Hurt Locker. If you love this series and have seen Terminator 2 way too many times, I am not sure what to tell you because you won’t be very satisfied with this film.

Moon

I never like to say that I prefer one movie genre to another (when asked what types of movies I like, I usually say good ones. Glib, perhaps, but true), but good Science Fiction movies are the rarest of all new releases. A new horror film seems to battle the latest comedy every weekend at the box office, whereas well executed Sci-Fi movies are released once a twice a year in a good year, and even within the genre, other genres emerge – horror films (Alien), space operas (Star Wars), philosophical exercises (2001 and Solaris), animation (Wall-E), and even comedies (Spaceballs). Science Fiction films are usually just other movie genres set in space.

Moon is mainly a philosophical exercise. The story itself is not highly original, something of a mix between 2001 and Blade Runner; the best way to describe the viewing experience is fresh, different than most of the films released over the past decade, in a good way. I wanted to see it as soon as I heard of its existence, and then I found out that the underrated Sam Rockwell is the star and that David Bowie’s son Duncan Jones is the director! This fact amazed me. If I had to choose five celebrities as possible alien beings sent to earth to engage and entertain our race, David Bowie would be number one or number two, depending on how strange you find Prince, and now I find out that his spawn is making movies, good movies. This is exciting, and it helps to explain why Moon is a terrific existential film with an atmosphere of both hope and abandonment. I can’t imagine that growing up with David Bowie as a father is a normal experience, but maybe I am wrong. Duncan’s actual name is Zowie Bowie, so probably I am right.

The film is set in a space station on the Moon that excavates Helium-3, which is sent back to Earth as a power supply. Rockwell’s character, Sam Bell, mans the space station and is nearing the end of his three year contract. His only other companion is a robot named Gerty, who talks like Keyser Soze (aka Kevin Spacey) and wheels around the complex like a hovering cable powered streetcar. The obvious reference to 2001’s on board computer, Hal 9000, adds tension; the viewer immediately questions the computer’s loyalty to Sam, who seems to be losing his sanity in the final weeks of his contract and begins to have confusing visions. At this point, a second Sam Bell shows up at the base, and Rockwell gets to shine. He is brilliant in the film. After proving in previous roles to be superb at playing hotheads and maniacs, here, he gets to play both. One of the Sams, the hothead, assumes that he is a clone and spends much of his time trying to prove to the other that they are being watched and kept unaware of secret parts of the base. The second Sam is resistant to these delusions and recedes into his own daily routine. Much like Nicholas Cage’s remarkable performance in Adaptation, Rockwell is able to always make the viewer aware of which Sam Bell they are seeing. Credit Jones as well for setting up scenes in a way to highlight the distinct, but possibly converging, paths of the two Sams.

At a brisk 90 minutes, the film tells an engaging story that essentially takes place in one small space. Had the great Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky made this film, I think it would have been better but much different. Moon is a perfect set-up to examine the human mind as it approaches its breaking point, and I feel that the film rushes to its conclusion, though if Tarkovsky were making films today, the minute a studio executive told him to trim scenes, he would either quit or go mad. Slowly paced Science Fiction seems extinct for now. We saw that a couple years ago with Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain, a 90 minute movie that crammed too much content into too brief a time frame. Moon succeeds at making the viewer think, but not too much. The film does, however, excel at entertainment. In an interview on Suicide Girls, Jones says that he intends to make a epilogue to the film. Perhaps then, I’ll get more of the philosophy I wanted this film to express.

Waltz With Bashir

Waltz with Bashir is the first movie I have seen that centres on the 1983 massacre in the Sabra and Shatila Palestine refugee camps, which was one of the darkest days of the The Lebanon War. The massacre was an act of revenge in the wake of President-elect Bashir Gemayel’s assassination, perpetrated by the Lebanese Christian Phalangist Party while Israeli forces stood aside at the outskirts of the camps, leading to the deaths of an estimated 1,000 Palestine refugees, many of whom were women, children, and elderly residents, few of whom were the targeted PLO dissidents. Possibly Israel’s darkest day, because of the strain it placed on their international relations and the damage it did to their reputation, the massacre is beginning to fade from history. Ariel Sharon, who would later become the Prime Minister of Israel, was forced to step down as The Defense Minister for his complacent role in the event, but the fact that he ultimately became the nation’s leader is an indication of our ability to forget. Perhaps the best source of information on this massacre is in Thomas Friedman’s Pulitzer Prize Winning New York Times Article and in his subsequent book, From Beirut to Jerusalem, a landmark piece of non-fiction.

The film is a look into the mental states of Israeli soldiers who stood by on the outskirts of the kill zone. The film’s protagonist, Ari Folman, is also its director, essentially making the film a documentary, though the director’s choice to make an animated film makes it more of a thought experiment. Ari cannot remember the day of the massacre and is intent and regaining his memory of the events. He goes on a series of interviews with his former brothers-in-arms and begins to gain perspective on the psychological damage that witnessing the massacre has caused his fellow soldiers. Most of those interviewed have seemingly forgiven themselves and place blame on the decision makers, which is probably common in war, but they retain a sense of repressed shame. Ari himself does not seem ashamed, just confused, and concerned about the reasons why he cannot remember anything on the day of the massacre. One interviewee is obviously well versed in psychology, and provides some interesting insight on the nature of memories. Others just describe their role, some with self-pity, others with tales of their own bravura.

The real question the viewer must ask is why Waltz With Bashir is an animated film, especially given that those interviewed are real war veterans sharing their experiences. Were those involved worried that showing their faces on film would make them targets of disdain? Are they ashamed at their complacency and would prefer not to fully involve themselves in the story? The movie does contain some pornographic material, but nothing so essential to the film that it couldn’t be removed in live action. The film’s several dream sequences are certainly more effective in animation. These are all potential factors in the director’s decision, as is the fact that the images of the massacre’s aftermath would spark a lot less rage than a live action panorama of slaughtered women and children, but I think the real reason for the animation is to intellectualize the director’s mission. He does not want the film seen as an apology for Israel’s actions, he wants to explore the psychosocial damage his fellow soldiers experienced. The soldiers followed orders, put their lives at risk, and witnessed some horrific images. The decision makers decided to allow the Phalangists into the settlement alone, and they are the ones to blame. The soldiers are the victims, but Ari does not want to go too far in humanizing their actions. A live action film might have been too compassionate in presenting the mental states of those interviewed. We should feel sorry for them, no decent human being wants to be implicated in a massacre, but we also need to remember that the massacred Palestinians, and their grieving families, are the true victims. The last shot in the film makes this very clear.

The Bin Ladens by Steve Coll

Around 5 years after 9/11, I started to become interested in the factors that led to that infamous day, easily the defining world event of my life and a turning point in the escalating clash between Eastern and Western Civilization. In the first few years after the attack, researchers focused on two key questions: how had the CIA failed to thwart the attack and what chain of events led to the rise of Bin Laden and Al Qaida. Richard Clarke’s Against All Enemies and Robert Baur’s See No Evil (the inspiration for the film Syriana) provided excellent recounts of oversights within the CIA, the carelessness of the Bush Administration, and the failure of government agencies to work together to identify threats. Other prominent works include Lawrence Wright’s The Looming Tower, which did an excellent job charting the rise of the Al Qaida, and Steve Coll’s Ghost Wars, a must read examination into how the Afghanistan War created a culture of resistance in the Arab world, leading to the Jihad on America. Both The Looming Tower and Ghost Wars won Pulitzer Prizes, and thankfully, Steve Coll has continued to examine 9/11 with his new book, The Bin Ladens.

In studying Osama Bin Laden’s rise and excommunication from the wealthy Bin Laden family, The Bin Ladens moves past Osama in taking a close look at those in the family who curried the favour of Saudi Arabia’s royal family to earn numerous construction contacts. The Saudi Royal Family spent billions of dollars in the 20th century on palaces and mosques, using its fortuitous oil reserves to spend lavishly on themselves, giving little thought to generating an economy. The rise of the Bin Ladens, led by Mahammed Bin Laden, is a fascinating story, expertly described by Coll, who focuses on the family’s entrepreneurial drive in a book that has closer parallels to Richard Branson’s autobiography, Losing My Virginity, than to other books centered on the events of 9/11. First Mahammed, then his oldest son Salem, Osama’s half-brother, are described for the leadership roles they took in creating one of the most successful corporations in the Saudi Kingdom. In fact, the family’s passion for flying would have helped them get along well with Branson, whose wild ways mirrored those of Salem Bin Laden, a businessman who did not like to involve himself in religion or politics, and lived a life that was more suited to a Hollywood movie star than a prominant figure in one of the most religious societies in the world. Compared to his father Mahammed, who fathered more that 50 children, and his half-brother Salem, Osama’s pious and narrow minded views, and contradictory rhetoric, make him a fairly uninteresting figure.

Osama’s actions hang over Coll’s story from start to finish. As he describes the personalities and accomplishments of the Bin Laden children, including a Harvard PHD and a multitude of accomplished businessmen and engineers, Osama’s betrayal makes tragic figures of the extended Bin Laden family. Coll examines numerous legal documents and conducts an extensive series of interviews which seem to exonerate the Bin Laden family from any wrong doing associated with Bin Laden’s war, and he paints a picture of a proud family, ashamed by Osama’s action, which makes them more noble than the droves of individuals in the Arab world who consider Osama to be a hero. Coll does the Bin Laden family a great service with this recount of their rise to prominence, and except for his occasional attacks on Osama’s hypocritical actions and unfounded religious doctines (much deserved), he maintains an unbiased view throughout the book. In describing the rise of the Bin Ladens, the concomitant rise of the Al-Saud family is nicely outlined as well, providing insight into the birth of Saudi Arabia and the work of the Saudi Royal family in making Mecca, the birthplace of the Prophet Muhammed, and Medina, the place of his exile, the glamorous centers of the Muslim world, possibly the only good use of their oil wealth to date.

Steve Coll is one of the foremost experts on Osama Bin Laden’s world, and his works give us important details on Osama’s rise, his psychological state-of-mind, and his leadership role in Al Qaida. His books are riveting, I read this recent 600 page epic in 4 days, unable to stop sometimes late into the night. Hopefully, someday soon, Osama will be found, and I sincerity hope Coll will tell that story too.

Metallica Concert – Air Canada Centre – October 26, 09

When I was growing up in the 80s and early 90s, Heavy Metal music, for me, was about youthful rebellion. For others, perhaps, it symbolized an outright rejection of society. Attacked in the media for inciting, amongst other events, the Columbine Massacre, Heavy Metal was the scourge of many parents, who tried to protect their kids by not letting them buy the latest albums, put incendiary posters on their bedroom walls, or attend rock concerts. I was a victim of this, having been denied the opportunity to listen to Appetite for Destruction when it was first released. That album, and many others from the era, including Metallica’s Master of Puppets, have become classics. Seeing my Mom dance to “Sweet Child of Mine” at my sister’s wedding recently was a bittersweet moment. She finally understood the greatness of Guns N’ Roses. Well…probably not, but she danced.

Last night at the ACC, I saw one of the legends of my youth, Metallica. Now in his mid forties, front man James Hetfield continues to take a serious and professional approach to being a musician. He is perhaps equally as famous for taking a stand against Napster in the late 90s as he is for being a Heavy Metal god, but his passion for entertaining his fans cannot be denied. When he told the audience, “We’re not here just to make you happy, you are here to make us happy as well”, he meant it. As the audience became louder and sang along to more of the songs, the band thrived. I counted 14 times that Hetfield mentioned Toronto, so he certainly passes the sobriety test. Lead guitarist Kirk Hammet seemed to have the most energy of the four and his unquestioned prowess on the guitar provided for some deafeningly great solos. The only asshole in the band seems to be the drummer, who insisted on spitting water all over the audience during breaks.

For myself, as a Metallica fan but not a follower, I was there to enjoy the atmosphere and to hear the hits. In attendance were a lot of followers, and their love of the band was contagious. Crowd surfing and mosh pits are not something I expected to see at the Air Canada Centre, but there they were. Even Hetfield seemed surprised to see the mosh pit rumbling. Metallica’s songs generally hover in between the good to very good range, but they do have four masterpieces – “Master of Puppets”, “Enter Sandman”, “Nothing Else Matters”, and “Unforgiven” (apologies to “One” and “Search and Destroy”). They played everything but “Unforgiven”. “Master of Puppets” and “Enter Sandman” were easily the highlights of the night. When the audience sang along for “Enter Sandman”, they drowned out Hetfield’s voice. That song is made for stadium rock. “Master of Puppets” was equally as impressive. The audience actually started to sing along with the guitar solo; that’s a pretty good indicator of a beloved song.

The stage design was ideal, placing the band at the centre and mikes along the edges, allowing Hetfield and the band to roam freely. They made minimal use of lasers and had quite a fire show at times during the performance. Giant balls of flame burst up about halfway through the show. I was about 75 feet back and could feel the heat. Flashes of Great White in Rhode Island went through my head but this pyrotechnic show seemed to be under control. I was more worried that the four giant coffins that loomed above the band would come loose. These props occasionally dropped lower and showered light into the audience. I am unclear what the coffins were supposed to symbolize, not death, that’s certain. This show was about life, and feeding off its energy. Maybe that’s what the coffins were in place to remind us, that we may be aging metal fans but we’re not dead yet. Now is the time to feel alive. Last night, Metallica gave 20,000 fans that privilege.

Summer 2009 at the Movies

I began my summer movie season with a double feature, Wolverine and Star Trek, which I imagine cost Hollywood around $300 million to produce, market, and distribute and provided me with about $1.50 in entertainment. Both movies had lazy scripts, lavish effects, and loud noises, and so I am happy that I at least watched them on the big screen. Wolverine was a bad film, a misfire from a talented director, but Star Trek did provide some entertainment, and while it wasn’t a good start to the summer movie season, that four hour trip to the cinema left me wanting more. Fortunately, quite a few movies actually did give me value for my money. I saw three masterpieces – Up, The Hurt Locker, and Inglorious Basterds – and several very entertaining films, including The Hangover and District 9. Here are some quick thoughts on my summer movie experiences. I will mention a few plot details but try to give away anything essential:

X-Men Origins: Wolverine – *(out of ****)

X-Men Origins: Wolverine is a very mean spirited film, introducing friendly, innocent characters and then killing them, seemingly for the purpose of making Wolverine angry enough to cause more damage. As I said in a Twitter post, not one of the main characters in this movie has enough morality to consider him or her a decent human being. Each has their own agenda, usually revenge, and will stop at nothing to fulfill it. Gavin Hood, who directed the Oscar Winning Tsotsi, a fine film set in the slums of South Africa, seems to have little passion for the subject matter, and the script’s only intention is to highlight the array of mutant powers that are combined into one super mutant whose purpose remains unclear, though he naturally gets in a superbout with Wolverine, which was pretty dull. I heard some pretty high figures regarding this film’s budget, but I never cease to be amazed that these movies can’t hire fact checkers when introducing script elements. A doctor recently told me that a drug used to render a character’s heart beat so slow as to make her appear dead would have no such effect. Why spend so much on a film and not bother with a consistent script? That, unfortunately, is a question I ask myself far too often.

Star Trek – **1/2

Star Trek didn’t fully work for me. I was entertained, mainly because seeing Leonard Nemoy as Spock one more time was great. He could have been reciting the Vulcan Bible and I would have enjoyed myself. The rest of the film was simply too much of an action movie. I don’t love the Star Trek series, but I have always enjoyed the little bits of philosophy featured in the story lines. In this revamped looked at the early lives of the original Enterprise crew, we meet a young Kirk (his legendary birth opens the film) and see his entrance into the academy and unlikely ascension to the captain’s chair, which corresponds with the entrance of a very evil villain, bent on destroying the universe of course. A battle ensues and guns are fired, that is, guns are fired when Kirk has one. He seems to get in a lot of fistfights in this supposedly futuristic film. Let’s move on.

The Hurt Locker – ****

Marketed as an unbiased look into the lives of bomb diffusers in Iraq, The Hurt Locker is also the perfect action film, achieving the suspense that so many summer blockbusters fail to achieve by creating characters filled with humanity and placing them in perilous situations that could cost them their lives. The difference between a great action movie like The Hurt Locker and a poor one like Wolverine lies in director Kathryn Bigelow’s understanding that watching stuff blow up is not nearly as tense as waiting for it to blow up, which is an an old Hitchcock mantra that Roger Ebert often mentions. Throughout this movie, Staff Sergeant William James and his crew identify and attempt to diffuse bombs, creating a movie that never lets the audience relax. In scenes back at the base, we see the emotional toll these missions have on the soldiers and that their mental state is just as endangered as their physical being. In removing politics from the film’s point of view, Bigelow gives a matter of fact version of the life of an American soldier in Iraq. I don’t remember seeing a movie this suspenseful since I first watched Alien.

Julia and Julia – ***

In Julia and Julia, the latest remarkable creation of Meryl Streep is the famous chef Julia Child, whose book, “The Art of French Cooking” is one of the best selling cookbooks of all time. Ostensibly a light comedic role for Steep, she gives us a closer look at the legend than we expect, reflecting her many moods during a tough but optimistic rise to the top of the culinary world. Interlaced with scenes of Julia Powell’s modern day blog documenting her effort to get though all the recipes of the massive “Art of French Cooking” in one year, the film does a nice job of telling both stories, though I don’t think that the concept truly works. The two stories are told, and Child does have some influence over the way Powell lives her life, but only in superficial way. The common theme is not strong enough to hold the narrative together because the only similarities between the two characters are that they are both married and like to cook.

Inglorious Basterds – ****

So long have we waited for Inglorious Basterds! Since Tarantino released Pulp Fiction in 1994, he has sporadically worked in the director’s chair and continued to release great movies. Jackie Brown, Kill Bill, and Death Proof were films that contained Tarantino’s sharp dialogue and ironic sense of adventure but not one of those films made me anxiously await a second viewing. Finally, the Basterds have arrived, and I foresee myself re-watching and quoting this movie for years to come.

“Wait…for the cream.”

Inglorious Basterds is a mix of Marx brothers style comedy, give-and-take-and-give-some-more dialogue, and serial style adventure against the Nattssseees, as Lt. Aldo Raine likes to call them. The film takes itself just seriously enough to regard its characters as human beings in life and death struggles, but ultimately it’s a twisted fable about sticking it to the Nazis. I think this is the best film of the year. I can’t wait for my next opportunity to throw an Inglorious Basterds quote into a conversation.

Col. Hans Landa: You will be shot for this!

Lt. Aldo Raine: Naw, I don’t think so. More like I’ll be chewed out. I’ve been chewed out before.

The Taking of Pelham 123 – ***

The claustrophobia of subway trains and tunnels is one of the great settings in urban based movies. This year, following a spectacular subway crash in the underrated Science Fiction movie Knowing, The Taking of Pelham 123 gives us a full length feature in the tunnels of Manhattan, entrapment defined. Though being trapped in a subway car is probably not the best setting for a villain, making the crew seemed doomed from the start, a hostage taking team manages to protect themselves well from outside intrusion as they execute their money making scheme. The film is very entertaining, but I didn’t buy into the plot. John Travolta’s character, a former stock broker, holds the hostages in New York with the specific purpose of sending the stock market into a panic so that he can short sell his stocks and make a fortune on the $2 Million he embezzled and hid away before serving a prison term. It’s a good plan, except a hostage taking situation in New York City, if severe enough to effect the markets would probably shut them down for the day. In this movie, not even the Feds seem to get involved and in several scenes, we hear other subway cars zoom past the car with the hostages. Once again, a lazy script hurts what was a great scenario.

Crank 2: High Voltage – ***

I have ambiguous feelings about Jason Statham’s career as an action star. His movies are consistently ludicrous and clichéd but he makes so many of them that he has had a few memorable roles: Crank’s Chaz Chelios being one of them, while Jenson Ames in Death Race is not. Crank 2: High Voltage seems to have been made by a filmmaker in the middle of a cocaine binge. His scenes move fast, characters drift in and out of the story in kinetic moments of madness, and, as usual, Chaz Chelios continues to do what he must to stay alive. The film’s tag line, ‘He was dead, but he got better’ pretty much describes the logic of Crank 2, which is an entertaining movie fueled by Statham’s glib attitude towards his dire situation. He is on a video game style revenge mission, and this movie makes no pretensions of being anything more than that. I like it.

Death Race – 1/2*

I did not like Death Race. My understanding is that the movie takes place in a not too distant future when prisons are taken over by corporations and used as profit making ventures. In one of these prisons, the warden, who seems to have only one guard to protect her, holds Nascar-style races delivered to the public via pay-per-view. In one scene, the filmmakers make it a point of showing that the three day event costs $250 and we soon find out that more than 10 million subscribers are watching the race. So, from one weekend event, and these races seem to happen every couple of months, this prison has made $2.5 Billion dollars, yet the warden sits behind a metal desk on top of a raised deck overlooking the prison and employs about 50 guards. With that kind of money, she should be watching the events from her own office tower rather than jeopardizing her life living amidst the prison. The pay per view figures are one of the few moments in this movie that doesn’t feature a car race or an insult match between the drivers. I looked up Death Race on IMDB to see who actually wrote (or didn’t write) the script, and of course it was the director Paul W.S. Anderson (not to be confused with Boogie Nights’ director Paul Thomas Anderson), who has made some of the worst movies in recent memory. I don’t even think if I liked Nascar I would have liked this movie.

Bruno – ***

No longer having the element of surprise has hurt Sasha Baron Cohen’s comedy, but Bruno, while no Borat, is still a pretty funny movie. The backlash against this movie seems to stem from the high expectations audiences had for Cohen’s Borat follow-up, but I see no reason to be disappointed. Bruno still manages to find a wide array of people to mock and offend, and he particularly scores with a scene auditioning babies for a risqué photo shoot and in scenes where he exposes the homophobia of rednecks. One aspect of the film that doesn’t quite work all the time is the implication that these scenes are not staged. At times in the film, the behavior of those being interviewed seems so irrational as to appear fictionalized, and a few of the set-ups probably are, but many are not. Baron Cohen’s fame can make it difficult to believe that those in the film don’t know him but he targets individuals who seem unlikely to Borat on a Saturday night. Bruno is not as likable as Borat, at least in this movie, and so the jokes can seem a little more mean spirited but this movie is still one of the funniest films of the year.

District 9 – ***1/2

District 9 is an interesting concept for a film that uses an alien arrival on earth in an allegorical fashion to explore the racism and xenophobia director Neil Blomkamp experienced while growing up in South Africa. Shot in a documentary style that heightens the negative attitudes the citizens of Johannesburg have towards their extra-terrestrial visitors, the film nicely builds up tension as one of the aliens, who are referred to as Prawns because of their appearance, conceives a plan to return to the abandoned ship that hovers ominously over the city. The alien, whose name is Christopher Johnson, has unclear intentions throughout the film and its ambiguous ending leaves us wondering whether Johnson is a hero to his ‘people’ or a desperate man committing his final act. Despite its serious message on racism, District 9 is essentially an action film. As one of the humans who finds himself hunted by his race turns to Johnson for help, we are presented with a man-on-the-run style thriller that culminates on an explosion laden finish. Still, the unusual participants in the action separates this film from others in the genre, and Christopher Johnson is a terrific creation, potentially the Martin Luther King Jr. of the Prawns.

Ponyo – ***1/2

Every time Japanese animator extraordinaire Hayao Miyazaki makes a film, the world becomes more convinced that he is the heir to Walt Disney’s throne. He creates worlds that stimulate the senses and the imagination and Ponyo, his latest film, is a worthy addition to Miyazaki’s library. His films often centre on environmental themes, which makes him an important filmmaker in addition to being a great one. The film opens in the depths of the Pacific Ocean, where Ponyo and her father reside. He has become disenchanted with humans and raises his daughter, whose mother is a sea goddess, and her hundreds of baby sisters far away from land, but Ponyo’s curiosity brings her to the coast, where she becomes infatuated with Sosuke, a human boy. As the story unfolds, we are treated to some visual wonders as the sea rises in line with Ponyo’s hopes of staying with Sosuke. In one wondrous scene, Ponyo leaps from wave to wave in a thunderous storm to reunite with Sosuke. However, despite having Miyazaki’s usual visual magic, the film’s anti-climatic ending removes a sense of adventure that pervades throughout the early parts of the film. I wanted a little more danger; I know Ponyo would have prevailed.

The Hangover – ***1/2

The Hangover, yes, let’s see…I remember Mike Tyson singing Phil Collins’ In the Air Tonight, Zach Galifianakis inviting his future brother-in-law and his new friends into the one man Wolf Pack, a naked effeminate man beating up a hungover crew who has just managed to explain why they woke up with a unknown baby in their hotel room (among other unwanted surprises), and, of course, I remember the candy shop. The rest of my memories from this movie are blurred because I laughing along and enjoying the ride. Great story, perfectly executed and exuberantly told. I can’t wait to see it again.

Up – ****

Up was a joyous experience. Pixar’s finest movie to date has an opening scene that is as poignant a statement about loss as any I have seen in film, saying more about life than I would have ever thought possible in animation. The relationship then formed between a boy with an absentee father and an old man who has just lost the love of his life is a wonder to behold. A live action movie could have been made using the same two characters, representing a great new direction for Pixar. I loved Woody and Buzz but I hope they forgive me for calling them just toys. Russell and Carl and noble hearted adventurers who deserve each other, and I am glad I got to meet them.

The Watchmen

Following months of hype and a studio battle over distribution rights, The Watchmen have arrived, and to my pleasant surprise, I am very happy that they have. After seeing director Zack Snyder’s visually stunning but ultimately brainless 300, I had little enthusiasm for his next directorial effort, but The Watchmen stimulates the mind and the senses, an Apocalyptic vision of a world that sees Richard Nixon, in 1985, his fifth term in office, leading the US in, as Major “King” Kong in Dr. Strangelove would say, ‘nuclear combat toe to toe with the Roosskies’ There is a lot to like here – interesting characters like Dr. Manhattan, a super being who exists outside of time and space, living an existence only Einstein could fully appreciate; and delicious dialogue, as when a masked Watchmen named Rorschach screams to his fellow prison inmates, many of whom he helped lock up, “I’m not locked in here with you! You’re locked in here with ME!” Wasting no time, the story opens with a spectacular fight in the 30^th floor apartment of The Comedian that leads to his death, and his story is mercilessly revealed in flashbacks that imply that his death may have been a deserved one. We learn early on that The Watchmen are masked crusaders, but they certainly are not heroes.

In this alternate 1985, The Watchmen have retired. They are unwanted members of society. A picket sign says, “Who Watches the Watchmen.” One of the group, Adrian Veidt, has revealed his identity, he is known as the smartest man in the world, and has used his fame to rise to the top of the corporate world. Dr. Manhattan, the only member of the Watchmen with super powers, lives a life of scientific study in a quarters he shares with Laurie Jupiter, an ex-Watchman herself, and he is becoming more and more distant from the human world. A being who can seemingly appear at any moment in the Universe, Manhattan is an introspective sort of God, probably the most powerful superhero ever imagined, who sees no molecular difference between a live human and a dead one and tells others that they mean no more to him than the planet’s smallest termite. Ouch. However, as the story imaginatively explains, he helped America win the Vietnam War and his presence is a major deterrent against the Soviet Union’s ability to escalate the Cold War.

The rebirth of The Watchmen arises from The Comedian’s death. Rorschach suspects foul play and begins to investigate the crime. He shares his concern with two of the other Watchmen and the group gradually comes together. The movie seamlessly fuses the back stories of the Watchmen into the main plot of the movie, and the Armageddon clock ticks down as the Soviets mobilize their war heads in preparation for an all out nuclear war. In an effort to remain true to the original vision of the graphic novel, the film pushes past the two and a half hour mark, each minute dense with details. Listen to and consider the comments of Dr. Manhattan, revel in the clever barrage of Rorschach’s verbal abuse, and ask yourself if you can agree the logic of the world’s smartest man. I will need to see this movie again, and I look forward to reading the original graphic novel by Alan Moore.

The Visitor

A movie like The Visitor is a shining example of the importance of Arts and Culture, which helps us to avoid seeing issues in black and white – in this case, America’s immigration policy. Politicians often focus on this issue because a strong stand against illegal aliens can help them to win an election, especially when these residents are portrayed as a threat to job security and public safety. Many politicians running for office will tell you that they are going to clean up the borders and seek out and deport these unwanted members of society. Unfortunately, their rhetoric is often convincing, but artistic expression can help to balance a politician’s intentions. Thomas McCarthy’s The Visitor is that type of expression.

The film opens in Connecticut. Professor Walter Vale is teaching one university course in Economics per term and working on another book when he is required to travel to New York to present a paper that he co-authored. Walter, unwilling to upset the repetitive balance of his life, is resistant but ultimately has no choice. He must present the paper. We soon discover that he only put his name on the document as a favor to the other author and is made uncomfortable at the prospect of presenting to a field of experts, but this is incidental. He seems most upset at leaving his home and interacting with people he does not know. He is living his life while he waits to die.

The film unfolds quickly. A few brief scenes reveal Walter’s personality because he does not seem to have one, but when he arrives at an apartment he keeps in New York, he enters a dangerous trap. A young couple is living in the apartment. Walter walks into the house, opens the bathroom door and is stunned by a woman’s scream. Seconds later, he is in the clutches of her angry boyfriend. The couple has been duped by a false landlord and now discover that they must leave what they thought was the safety of a nice home. With no close friends in the city, they are on the streets. Walter, unwilling to help at first, discovers that the couple has no place to turn and reluctantly invites them into his home, a gesture of kindness that would soon give Walter his life back. At first, the girl, Zainab, is hesitant in her communications with Walter, but her boyfriend, Tarek, is an extrovert with an enthusiasm for life. He begins to teach Walter how to play the bongo and escorts him around the city to listen to various drumming acts. One afternoon, Tarek is mistakenly arrested as the two travel home from a session, and he enters the system as an illegal immigrant, scheduled for deportation. At this point in the film, Tarek has won the hearts of the audience. Nothing in his manner is dangerous. He is one of the more likable characters in film this year. He adds to the rich culture of New York City, as does his girlfriend selling Senegalese jewelry on the streets, and he is the type of person anyone would love to have as a neighbor or co-worker, but he does not belong in America. Policy dictates that he must leave, despite escaping from the oppression of Syria.

Tarek’s mother, Mouna, arrives from Michigan, and Walter, by now convinced that he is meant to help Tarek, comforts the women and, feeling a bond with her, becomes determined to do what he can to help Tarek. He brings her to the detention centre where Terek is being held and she waits for him in a coffee shop across the street. Tarek does not want her to stay, but she is determined to wait in New York and she accepts Walter help. She does not know him, but she believes in his sincerity.

So who is Walter? Is he America’s everyman, caring and willing to help when he sees someone in trouble, or has he reached a point of crisis in his life, enlivened by his experiences with Tarek, looking for adventure and determined to feel young again. We don’t know how Walter viewed aliens before he met Tarek’s family. As an economics professor, he would understand that countries rely on immigration to fill gaps in the talent pool but he probably knows that America does not see aspiring musicians as potential contributors to American commerce. Now that Walter has entered a holding center, he sees the mistreatment undoubtedly prevalent in detention facilities throughout the nation and the emotional torture felt by the detainees. Walter does not grasp the meaning of the phrase, “The American Dream.” Only immigrants who escape poverty and repression in their home nations truly understand the term. Tarek, his mother, and Zainab know its meaning, even in their humble lives on the big city streets of America, and their experiences show Walter that he should relish the freedom living in America provides him. As the film unfolds, we see changes in Walter, and passions that were hidden at the film’s opening. Jenkins, in an Oscar nominated role, gives a subtly moving performance as Walter, and in the end, we see Walter as simply a good man, doing his best to be happy.

Side Note: Living in Toronto, and experiencing the vast mix of culture produced from its diverse citizenship, reminds me every day of Canada’s important position in the world. We have given the word a place with we different races can grow together, while infusing the best cultural elements from our homelands. My one regret is that Stephen Harper has been elected as our Prime Minister. Time will tell if his economic policies will help Canada and I hope they do, but for me, he is a man whose fatal flaw is his disregard for the Arts. Perhaps he should watch a movie like The Visitor. He may find that he has a heart after all.

Frost/Nixon

Ron Howard has made a career directing good and very good movies. Frost/Nixon falls into the Very Good category. Anchored by a fine performance from Frank Langella as Richard Nixon and using source material from the Broadway play of the same name, the movie looks at a series of TV interviews Nixon granted to British journalist David Frost in the wake of his resignation. Frost/Nixon is a well acted, well paced drama, much like Howard’s other ‘very good’ films: Cinderella Man, A Beautiful Mind, Ransom, Apollo 13, Backdraft, Parenthood, Cocoon, and Splash. I wouldn’t say that I love any of these movies, but they are certainly entertaining. Ron Howard, a child TV star, is the prototypical Hollywood director. He should be; he has lived in the system for most of his life.

Researching this article, I was surprised to find that Langella also played Nixon on Broadway as well as in the initial London engagement. To say he has perfected the role is an understatement. I am largely unfamiliar with Nixon’s mannerisms and so I can’t comment on Langella’s impersonation, but I do know that Nixon was a smart politician who rose from a modest financial upbringing and overcame the loss of the 1960 presidential election to John F. Kennedy to become the 37th President of the United States in 1968. Langella portrays him as a man proud of his accomplishments and begrudgingly resigned to the damage he has done to his legacy. He reveals a sharp sense of humour, in one scene drolly proposing to call some CIA trained Cubans he knows to help track Frost and his team of researchers, and a touching sense of regret over betraying the trust of the American people. Throughout the film, we get the sense that Nixon will confess to his crime, and when he does, Langella helps the audience to sympathize with Nixon as he comes to the slow realization that his acts betrayed the sacred trust Americans hold for the president of their nation.

Oliver Platt, Kevin Bacon, and Sam Rockwell, one of the few Hollywood actors who does not do enough mainstream work, all deliver in supporting roles. Michael Sheen, who played Tony Blair in The Queen, gives a strong performance as Frost, in part because his character needs to show discomfort around Nixon and Langella’s performance is so polished that Sheen must have found it flustering to equal Langella’s intensity. Last and never least, the incomparable Clint Howard, Ron’s younger brother, and possibly the most successful bit player in movie history, makes an appearance as well. If you seek a well told story, with sharp dialogue, great acting, and interesting subject matter, Frost Nixon is sure to please.

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