Category: Movie Reviews

Mangling Agatha Christie

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

How much violence are you allowed to do to a novel when you make it into a movie?

I haven’t seen this winter’s assault on J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit II: The Desolation of Smaug, in which the movie-makers invented their own major character and plugged her willy-nilly into the story. But I have seen (on youtube–thank heaven I didn’t pay for it!) the 2010 travesty of Agatha Christie’s novel, Appointment With Death.

The 1988 version, starring Peter Ustinov, sticks closely to the story, making only such changes as are to be reasonably expected from a movie. But the 2010 edition, starring David Suchet as Hercule Poirot, cries out for revenge.

Appointment With Death concerns the murder of a horrible, sadistic woman, a former prison wardress who married into money and was left a filthy rich widow. Her hobby is tormenting her step-children and screwing up their lives. The mystery isn’t so much who killed her as who didn’t.

Well, said the 2010 screenwriters, let’s change all that! So the wretched woman’s husband’s still alive, he’s an archeologist, and he loves her and calls her “Poppet.” Poppet? He calls this two-legged alligator Poppet?

There is something profoundly dishonest about all this. You’re using the name of the author and her title to trick people into watching your movie.

Jaws was a not-so-hot novel that was turned into a great movie because the screenwriters cut out all the crap stuffed into the story by the author, Peter Benchley. The rest of the time, it works the other way: they cut out the author’s good stuff and plug in a lot of hooey.

If you like Agatha Christie and her most famous character, Hercule Poirot, the 1988 Appointment With Death is worth your while. If you like watching train wrecks, check out the 2010 version.

‘The Hobbit II’ Review: Water in a Sieve

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

Guest Writer: Laura Andrews

[Editor’s Note: Laura is a regular visitor to this blog, and I enjoy her writing style. If you do, too, visit her “Taleweaver” blog at http://lauraeandrews.blogspot.com .

I’d like to bring in more guest commentary as time goes on: so if you’ve got a good idea for an article or a rant, let me know. I always check my “comments,” so I won’t miss you.]

Hello, all! I’m so pleased to b e featured on Lee’s blog for the first time. A while back I interviewed him on my blog, and now here I am with a review of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug. I guess I’d better start off by saying that I have very fond memories of my dad reading The Hobbit to us when I was about eight years old. At the time, I knew nothing of the “fantasy genre.” I don’t think I’d even read Narnia yet. So The Hobbit was my first fantasy book, which makes it a bit special to me. If the tone of my review is a bit hard, well, that’s why. Don’t take it personally if you disagree.

The Hobbit is a story about, well, a hobbit–a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, who goes on an adventure with thirteen dwarves to reclaim, by burgling, a treasure stolen by the dragon, Smaug. Along the way he is almost eaten by trolls, briefly enslaved by goblins, finds a magic ring, and becomes an indispensable member of the company. This is Bilbo’s story, and the movie ought to have acknowledged that. Instead, it’s The Tale of Thirteen Crude Dwarves and Two Amazing Elves. [Editor’s note: neither of the Amazin’s appear in Tolkien’s novel.] I don’t have space here to point out everything wrong with this movie, so I’ll go with three examples.

1. Bilbo has no brains and relies solely on dumb luck. He hardly ever uses his ring when it would be the perfect time for it. On the rare occasions that he does use it, he almost immediately takes it off: one time he lets Smaug see him by doing this.

2. A completely new character, Tauriel the Elf, is introduced. Legolas is in love with her but, predictably, she falls for Kili the Dwarf [Editor’s note: Aaack! Ugh!] and this becomes an integral part of the non-existent plot. Instead of the story moving along to the actual important parts, we’re treated to flirty little scenes and Stupid Things Done For a Crush.

3. Fighting. Seriously, I’ve never seen a movie in which there was this much fighting. All three Lord of the Rings movies put together probably had only a little more fighting than Desolation of Smaug. The only fight that was actually in the book, Bilbo vs. Spiders, was rushed, while we are dragged along to witness Elves vs. Orcs, Elves vs. Spiders, Dwarves vs. Orcs, Dwarves vs. Smaug (who doesn’t really seem to care whether he catches them or not), Dwarves vs. Elves, Gandalf vs. Sauron (really!), Gandalf vs. Orcs, Thorin vs. Bard (verbally), and others that I can’t remember.

Not only was this a terrible adaptation; it was a terrible movie as a whole. It dragged on and on, the dialogue was horrible, the acting was for the most part subpar, the plot didn’t exist, and the characters were lifeless paper cutouts. I think I know why this movie seemed so cluttered. It’s because it’s supposed to be about Bilbo, with the Dwarves as side characters. Instead, it’s completely switched around so that we have to endure thirteen Dwarves who are supposed to have each his own distinct characters, plus a myriad of other characters who, despite attempts to give them depth, end up being as shallow as water in a sieve.

[Note: If you enjoyed this, Laura has a longer and less favorable review of this movie on amazon.com .]

 

Raping Tolkien

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

Yesterday, giving it a last-minute once-over before it goes to the printer, I found a typo on the cover of my new book, The Palace. Happily, it’s fixed. Nothing like a totally wrong word in the cover copy to make an author look bad.

But I can’t imagine how I’d feel if some movie-maker were doing to my books what Peter Jackson seems to be doing to Tolkien‘s classic, The Hobbit. Unlike Tolkien, I am not dead.

Jackson has taken a fairly compact book and stretched it out into a three-part movie marathon. The Hobbit II: The Desolation of Smaug has just been released, in time for Christmas. And no, I haven’t seen it. Are you kidding? These days, for the price of a bad movie, you could get a good book (one of mine, for instance). But I’ve been reading the reviews, and I have arranged for someone who has seen the movie to write a review for this blog.

It would take too much space to list all of Peter Jackson’s insults to Tolkien. Let me focus on just one of them.

For no cogent reason whatsoever, Jackson has invented a new major character to throw into the story–a gorgeous Elf-maid who is also the greatest warrior in Middle-Earth. (Barf bag, please. Excuse me for a minute…) I mean, what’s a fantasy without the most worn-out old cliche of them all?

But he doesn’t stop there. He has Miss Mirkwood fall in love with a Dwarf! Uh, Elves and Dwarves are different species. So this is like someone falling in love with a Shetland pony.

I think I might pay not to see this. I certainly wouldn’t pay to see it.

What did Tolkien or his heirs ever do to Jackson, to deserve this? Could the next movie please be directed by Reggie Jackson? Or LaToya Jackson? Anyone would do a better job than this. I am quite sure the specter of an Elf-Dwarf romance will ruin my sleep tonight.

But enough of this–I have a Christmas tree to decorate!

The Best ‘Christmas Carol’

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Beyond a doubt it’s Scrooge, starring Alistair Sim, 1951, We watched it yesterday. We watch it every year, and my response to it grows stronger every year.

Both my wife and I stopped counting how many times this movie brought tears to our eyes. I suppose that makes me a big fat softy, but I just don’t  care.

What is it that makes this version of A Christmas Carol so special? After all, there are a lot of movie versions of the story–I don’t even know how many.

Of course the acting is superb. That’s not what makes it unique. The music goes straight to my heart: traditional folk melodies, backed up by a full symphony orchestra. Among the most haunting and beautiful of these old tunes is My Love’s an Arbutus–find it on youtube. But there’s great music in the other versions, too.

This old Scrooge is one of a kind because it’s the most unabashedly Christian of them all. God the Father, by His sovereign power, has made Christ to be for us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption (I Corinthians 1:30). A Christmas Carol is all about redemption, a free gift of God–and whose heart is not moved by that?

Well, yes, there are poor souls out there who think the State is their redemption, and they’re always running off to some court or other to get an order protecting society from Jesus Christ.

But life is stronger than death, good is stronger than evil, beauty is better than ugliness, hope is  better than despair, and Christ the Lord is Lord of all.

Merry Christmas–and, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, every one.

5 Films to Flush Your Brain

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If you find you ever need to flush your brain, sort of like the way you have to flush an outboard motor sometimes, here are five certifiably awful movies that just might do it for you.

1. The Manster (1959) A mad scientist in Japan injects an American journalist with stuff that makes a second head grow out of his shoulder. Unfortunately, it’s a homicidal monster head. And if that pleases you, you may want to sample…

2. The Thing with Two Heads (1972) Nasty, racist scientist Ray Milland is dying, so he needs to transplant his head onto a healthy body. Oops–he winds up on Rosey Grier‘s body, and Rosey’s head is still on it, so… well, you get the general idea.

3. The Hideous Sun Demon (1959) Radiation turns a scientist into a bloodthirsty lizard-monster. How come this sort of thing never happens to a shoe salesman or someone at the post office?

4. The Greatest Speeches of Barack Obama–hold it! That’s not supposed to be in here. Even ridiculous horror movies have some standards.

4. Twitch of the Death Nerve (1972) My friends and I saw this at the local drive-in, and it made no sense at all. A lot of those Italian slasher flicks from the 70s make no sense. The climax is the announcement of the murder of one Filippo Donati, who is not otherwise mentioned.

5. I Eat Your Skin (1964) This mad scientist/zombie movie will hose down whatever neurons are still clogging up your cranium. They save the best line for last: “So ends Dr. So-and-So’s evil plan to conquer the world with an invincible army of zombies.” That’s the first we hear of any plan!

WARNING: Do not give any of these movies as Christmas presents. You can find them all available for viewing on the Internet at no charge.

A Very Fine ‘Christmas Carol’

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I know–the phrase “made for TV” conjures up visions of shoddiness, banality, and tripe. But here is a remarkable exception to that rule.

A Christmas Carol, with George C. Scott as Scrooge, first appeared on TV in 1984 as one of those Hallmark Hall of Fame productions. Charles Dickens’ story has appeared in countless film versions, but this one, if not the very best (I think that honor must go to the 1950 film starring Alistair Sim), is still wonderfully good.

All right, maybe I’m getting sappy as I get older. Time after time, this film stirs my heart. If you’re not afraid to feel, this one’s for you.

Scott’s Scrooge is probably the meanest and most obnoxious of them all–and so his redemption and regeneration is all the more occasion for rejoicing. There are those who say A Christmas Carol has nothing to do with Christ. Well, if redemption and regeneration are not the essence of Christianity, I don’t know what is.

I must also add that Frank Finlay‘s Marley–Marley’s ghost, that is–is surely the scariest of them all. And the original musical score by the Bicat brothers will stay with you for a long time, and delight you every time a few bars of it happen to dance across your mind: I promise you that.

If you haven’t seen this yet–well, what are you waiting for? It’s on youtube. Watch it today!

A Kid Flick That Gets Under Your Skin

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I’m tired of writing about wicked idiots who want to control our lives, so today I’ll take a break to write about something worthwhile.

A Bear Named Winnie (2004) is a simple, straightforward children’s movie starring Michael Fassbender and David Suchet. My wife and I watched it the other day, and we have both dreamed of it since. This uncomplicated little tale is haunting us!

It’s the true story of an orphaned bear cub adopted by Canadian soldiers on their way to fight in France in World War I, and how the bear becomes the inspiration for A. Milne’s classic, Winnie the Pooh. (Helpful hint: if you’ve never read Winnie the Pooh, drop whatever you’re doing and go get a copy!)

We tend to find World War I stories unbearably poignant–such a waste of life as was never before seen in the civilized world. But this movie doesn’t dwell on what we already know to be horrible. I was thankful to be spared the gory details, and almost flabbergasted to see a happy ending.

Suchet kind of steals the show as a drunken, incompetent, upper-class twit of a general; but really, the story’s much more important than the acting.

And I think it’s the musical score that really got under my skin. The film’s main musical theme is a lovely old hymn, This is My Father’s World (one of my favorites: never fails to bring a tear to my eye). There is also a WWI soldiers’ song sung to the tune of What a Friend We Have in Jesus, another favorite hymn. If these two hymns don’t move you, you’d better have yourself checked out: you might be dead.

So, days after seeing the film, the music is still playing in my mind, and Patty and I have both had dreams in which we were petting bear cubs–and if you’re tired of reading and hearing about bloodsucking moronic vampires murdering our country, A Bear Named Winnie will soothe your jangled soul.

 

Three Cheers for Godzilla

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

Sometimes I have to step back from watching civilization destroy itself. Of course the American Humanist Assn. is suing a school district because a teacher prayed. Of course 100 million people are going to lose their health insurance, thanks to their own government which many of them, in their stupidity, voted for. Of course a Methodist bishop promises to go on performing sodomite parodies of marriage in his church.

I can’t write about that stuff today.

But I will write about a Thanksgiving tradition at our place.

Every year, on the day after Thanksgiving, my wife and I watch Godzilla vs. Megalon. I told my friends in a Pogo chat room and one of them asked, “Is that football or basketball?”

Neither–it’s Godzilla, King of the Monsters. It’s Japanese monstervision at its finest. See the destruction of cities made from the Toho Film Company’s most exquisite miniatures. See the “USMC” tattoo on the shoulder of the guy who’s supposed to be the high priest of something-or-other on the Lost Continent of Seatopia. See the robot, Jet-Jaguar (“The name suits him!” says his creator), suddenly increase his size several hundredfold–never mind stretching the metal awfully thin–and hear the scientist wisely muse, “He must have programed himself to do that.”

It’s still more coherent than the daily news.

Join Jet-Jaguar as he flies across the Pacific Ocean–and there is no explanation as to how this robot is able to fly those enormous distances, especially with no provision made for fuel–to the sanctuary of Monster Island, where Godzilla lives with all the other monsters. Join Godzilla as he swims back to Japan to save it from Megalon, a giant beetle unleashed by the Seatopians to punish Japan for nuclear tests done by the United States and Russia.

It’s still more coherent than anything that goes on in Congress.

Get this movie and give your brain a day off!

Five Movies Not to Rent

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If you’re looking to veg out with some movies this weekend, here are a few that you’d do well to avoid.

Bluebeard (1972), starring Richard Burton (!) and the half-comatose Joey Heatherton, is surely one of the very worst movies ever made. I can’t be sure, because I got up and walked out long before it was over. All right, go ahead and tell me I missed all the good parts.

Zardoz (1974), written and directed and turned into drivel by John Boorman, stars Sean Connery in a pair of hot pants. It’s hardly watchable even in a drive-in with plenty of beer. Immortal line: “The p**** is evil. The p**** shoots seeds!” I dare you to keep watching.

Mandingo (1975). What was James Mason doing in this turkey? He should have shot his agent. It also stars Susan George, sounding like a cockney barmaid trying to impersonate a Southern belle (“Aah was riped!”), and boxer Ken Norton, who was probably better than Sonny Liston would have been.

Blade Runner (1982). In this overrated opus by Ridley Scott, a secret agent (Harrison Ford) falls in love with a robot (Sean Young). Psst, buddy! She’s a machine–like your car. It’s not like you can settle down with her and have a lot of little robots. Something rather unwholesome about the whole idea…

The Fifth Element (1992). I don’t know if this is the worst movie I ever saw, but I’m sure it’s the ugliest. Screenplay by a pair of French comic book writers–well, that says it all, doesn’t it? But it’s cheaper than going to see a psychiatrist. Just turn on The Fifth Element, and if you can sit through more than 20 minutes of it, you know there’s something wrong with you.

To the Reader: Please feel free to nominate any films you think I did wrong to leave out, or which, in the interests of public safety, you are sure other readers should avoid.

We Find a Hero

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My wife and I have discovered a British TV series, available on youtube at no charge, which we’re plumb crazy about: George Gently.

Veteran actor Martin Shaw plays Gently, a long-time London police detective who has moved to Durham in the north of England. His cases are tremendously difficult, demanding not only good police work but difficult moral judgments. He is lumbered with a callow young sergeant (Lee Ingleby) who has an awful lot to learn.

The thing that positively sends me about this series–which is still in production, by the way, after several years of great success–is the character of Gently himself. He is protective of the weak. His wife having been murdered by London gangsters, he has become, in his grief, not bitter but deeper, more sympathetic. He is rock-solid good: in fact, his London career came to a dead end because he never compromised, never bent the law, never permitted himself to be corrupted. And he is strong–morally and physically strong.

This is a very rare combination in a fictional character, these days. The fact that this show exists, and that many people watch it, tells me that the people of Great Britain have not yet forgotten what a real man is. They can still recognize one when they see him.

Let’s face it, Britain has pretty much gone to the dogs. But not yet entirely. There is still George Gently. Somebody out there still knows what a man’s supposed to be. And if ever this poor, fallen world needed real men, it’s now.

The show (we haven’t yet seen all the episodes) has no overt religious content. But to me the character of Gently seems profoundly Christian in all the best sense of the word. I wish I could ask Martin Shaw what, if anything, he’s learned from playing Gently. I think I’ve learned some valuable things from watching him.