The Gospel According to Prisco

It is rare for me to seek enlightenment through this blog, but I know many of my loyal followers are Comic Book Afficianados.  I am not, but not out of some sort of geeklier-than-thou snootiness.  Rather, it’s because the fans of comics tend to be like a snarky cult, who will deride anyone who dares to set foot in their domain.  I love the Itchy and Scratchy episode where Homer becomes Poochy, and they are at the Android’s Dungeon and the nerds are getting all fiesty with their questions about specifics in the episode.  [Even as I type this, I can feel nerds seething that I didn't put the full name of Jeff Albertson's comic store, The Android's Dungeon & Baseball Card Shop.] 

Also, I find it difficult to find a good inroads to start learning about the Marvel/DC Universe.  I mean, there are so many incarnations of Batman, and those stories are told by different artists in different worlds at different times.  Captain America is dead, no Batman died and he’s now an android, oh, wait, hey-ah-ee-ah, Sup-a-man’s dead.  I vaguely understand who’s Marvel, who’s DC, who’s Justice League, who’s The Avengers, who’s really who.  I’m learning, but everytime I think I have a hook on it, the world has shifted forever, and some other caped or leotarded crusader is six feet under and the cowl has been traded for a shinier model.

I have recently read approximately two comic book series:  Preacher and The Sandman.  Both of which I absolutely adored.  It totally shifted my mind as far as storytelling.  So I am a believer, and I want to believe.  But I need help.

Here’s the thing.  I have seen Iron Man and I have seen The Incredible Hulk.  I enjoyed Iron Man, but I think a lot of that had to do with the charisma of Robert Downey, Jr. rather than the story.  Though the battle sequences were fantastic, except the final villain showdown, but even that was the best I’ve seen in quite some time.  At least Favreau understands how to direct CGI.   I felt like the Hulk was a letdown.  I liked it slightly better than the Ang Lee version, but I think they traded throwing tanks for throwing police cars.  Also, the last battle once again fell into the realm of Transformers:  I don’t care how fucking cool it is that two CGI behemoths are rolling around socking each other if I can’t fucking see it.  It looks like when I used to sit too close to the fucking Nintendo.  Stop it.  Also, woe be to the Marvel womensfolk.  I mean, Gwyneth had a little sass to work with in Iron Man, but Liv Tyler could have been done CGI and no one would have been the worse for it.  Her job was mostly to stand there with tears in her eyes, saying “Stop!” and “Calm down”.  Essentially, she was the fitness watch he wore, but with nicer tits. 

Not that it was tragically bad.  I do think the Hulk is harder to capture on film, because he has to be huge and CGI.  They managed to capture enough personality, and throw enough bones to fans of the comic and fans of the television show (the Lou Ferrigno cameo actually got serious applause at my screening) to make it worthwhile.  It’s just that, in comparison to the sheer charisma of Tony Stark, the runaway Bruce Banner is a lesser hero.

Now the question that I have been getting to in this ever growing post is what the fuck is going to happen with the rest of the Avengers?  Because I’m concerned.  First and foremost, all the origins stories are being told by different writers and different directors.  I mean, we’ve got some pretty fucking quality people at the helm, if I’m getting all my ducks lined up correct:  Guerillmo Del Toro, Nick Cassavettes, Edgar Wright?  And Neil Gaiman is supposedly penning one of them.

But my fear is that, is this going to turn into The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?  I don’t know how much personality we’re going to see in the rest of the group.  Now, I’m almost positive that we’ve got Captain America and Thor coming in.  Captain America, I guess, is now going to fight in the Middle East, and hey, it worked for Iron Man, so why not?  Also, it’ll all hinge on who plays Cap, because his personality is going to play a big part in this, throwing the big Star-Spandex Bullseye aside.   I’m sketchy on the origin story of Captain America, but wasn’t he kind of akin to what happened with Emil Blonsky in the Hulk?  Namely, a soldier who volunteered for the Super Soldier program, and became Captain America?  Or am I totally wrong? 

Thor is a bit of shady area, too.  I’m more familiar with the giant Viking, and that allegedly you best not call Thor a homo if you’re being babysat by Elizabeth Shue, but other than that, I have no idea.  Supposedly, the Hammer of Thor gives the bearer all the powers of Thor, but whether that is more suit than godlike powers, I couldn’t say.  Now Thor concerns me, because there are all sorts of ways it could go wrong.  Thor could be CGI when he bears the hammer, which I think is a bad idea.  Two, Thor could be just played by a bulky actor, but isn’t Thor also a doctor/scientist who goes all Prince Adam/Superman when he’s not clutching the hammer?  The third is the two different actors will play Thor, one as the scientist alter ego, and the other as the Viking whompasser.  My vote is for Triple H to play Thor, but that’s just because he’s been great in action movies thus far, without stealing too much thunder from the other actors.  Oh, please tell me that pun didn’t fly past you, that’s fucking comedy gold, Jerry. 

Then there are all sorts of others who are leaping into the fray and getting their own movies.  We’ve got Ant-Man, and The Wasp, who I’ve got no idea about either of them.  I know there is an Ant-Man movie due out, and supposedly, the Wasp, who may or may not be some kind of hot Asian chick?  Are there any other female Avengers? 

Also, how exactly does SHIELD factor into this?  Nick Fury already made his eye-patchy debut, and it’s pretty much Samuel L. Jackson playing Samuel L. Jackson, so badass.  Is General Ross involved? 

I’m really confused, and I can see this going bad, quickly.  Holding that many egos in check, particularly Norton, I’m really not sure how this so-called Avengers adventure is going to pan out.  Because also, what villians do they battle?  If it’s a shitty villian, nobody will care.  Or if they all pack on to fight one villian, really, do we care?

Help me out, nerdlingers!  Let me know what’s up with the Marvel world, and why should I care?

I’m Big In Brazil

My latest post is up at Blog Me A Tale.  It’s about the wedding in Brazil.  God, just thinking about it makes me want to drink a fucking caipirinha and eat a pig on a sword.  And samba dance until I’m sweating like Michael Jackson at a Chuck E. Cheese.

In Persuasion Nation by George Saunders

Damn, and I thought I like Pastoralia.  There are more stories in this collection, so there are few clunkers, but that’s only because in relation to the other stories included in the collection, they aren’t as good.  And there are some monstrously incredible stories happening up in here.

I’m not going to copy “My Amendment” as I had previously promised, if only because it will make you go out and get your hands on a copy post haste.  It’s one of two “letters to the editor” in this collection, and makes an argument for the banning of “vaguely gay marriage”.  I’ll let you figure it out for yourselves. 

I was trying to think of some of my favorite stories, but there are so many reasons why this collection is great.  One stand out for me was “Jon” which is about a boy raised in an advertising agency to be a legendary hero and to essentially design commericals.  All of his memories are commercials, or implanted by the company.  Again, Saunders is working on this fine line between melacholy and hilarity with these brilliant satirical jibes being taken.  It’s fucking astounding.

Again, I think he’s cemented even further my belief that he’s one of the best short story writers around. 

Pastoralia by George Saunders

My God, this man is a fucking genius.  Imagine if Philip K. Dick and David Sedaris had a baby, and then let Kurt Vonnegut tuck him in at night and read him bedtime stories.  This guy would be the result. 

It’s kind of impossible to explain why he’s the best short story author around, and yes, that does include Joe Hill, who is awesome for totally different reasons.  The first collection of his I read was called CivilWarLand in Bad Decline.  He’s sort of got a fetish for these dystopian societies (up creeps that dirty word again — i think Left Behind has me awaiting the Rapture) and CivilWarLand is an amusement park/reenactment museum site of sorts.  This crops up a lot in his collections.  These weird ass sort of futuristic terrariums where people are forced into this weirdly corporate con fascist environs.  It’s totally tongue-in-cheek and supremely hysterical.  He did a full novel, which is probably like a page or three beyond being a novella called The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil.  To try to explain the concept of this novel might literally make someone’s head fall off and roll down stairs to burst in confetti.  And while that would be awesome, let me sell the book by saying, Read CivilWarLand first, then you’ll just read everything by this dude.

Pastoralia is more of the same, and while the stories enclosed are not necessarily my favorites of his, they are assuredly fantastic reads.  The title story takes place in, again, a weird sort of museum amusement park and is told from the point of view of one of the cavemen performers.  He is both a caveman and a modern day human, and the sheer focus and tone of the story makes it disturbingly hilarious.  The rest of the stories range from funny to touching.  If I had to compare it to Sedaris, I’d probably say this is somewhere between Barrel Fever and Dress Your Family in Corduroy.  There’s a story in here called “The End of Fripo in the World” that will tear your fucking heart out of your chest. 

I’m currently reading In Persuasion Nation, which is brilliant.  In fact the story I just read is so good, I might try to transcribe it in its entirety in lieu of a review.  It’s that fucking awesome. 

I don’t do this often, so you know the request is sincere.

I have a friend (as much as one can be that you’ve never met in the flesh — then again i’m closer to Mo and Cristina than I am people i’ve known for years, so what does that say). Her name is Manda, she’s a sassy lady, mom to a little hellraiser, and an all-around bad-ass zombie kicking chick. She blogs under the name AlabamaPink, two of the finest Tarantino characters around.

Anyway, Manda was diagnosed recently with leukemia. She’s been in and out of the hospital, fighting it, keeping her spirit strong and the like. Today, she got rushed back with a fever of 103.6.

I don’t care what you believe in, whether it’s God, Satan, Ween, Voodoo, The Lords of Kobol or Wal-Mart. Just do me a little favor, and send positive thoughts her way, please? I figure, sure it might be a mish-mash, but it’ll probably work like the Care Bear Stare, and get those anti-bodies a-fightin’.

Do this in the name of me. Thanks, kids.

(cross-posted on my blogs)

I’m Tired Of Your Bitchin’ About What’s In My Kitchen
I went to see this screening on Friday night, which was the Los Angeles premiere at the Laemmle Sunset 5.  I love the Laemmle Theatres, because they screen all the independents, and not just the Oscar darlings or the ones getting a little boost, but pretty much anything.  

Most of the cast was there, but of course I didn’t know that.  I found myself making idle crowd chitchat with a dude who later in the movie stood in a graveyard clutching and axe and jerking off with what I sincerely hope is a rubber cock.  In fact, since I got there early, I tried walking in, and who should I come across but Lloyd Kaufman himself, who looks vaguely like Mel Brooks in his heyday.  I said, “Hey, I just read your book.  It was fascinating.”  He said, “Thank you.  I’m writing another one, you should read that!” 

The crowd was pretty much what you’d expect for a Troma crowd.  Overweight goth girls and guys in tight pants that they shouldn’t have been wearing, hipsters fresh from their shifts at Amoeba, with their plaid hats and ironic t-shirts, pierced freaks and tattooed oddities.  My people.  We were trying desperately to make our way in the theater but we were turned away repeatedly by the manager. 

Eli Roth was there, and his street cred immediately went up in my eyes.  He wasn’t making a big deal of himself, he was there to see the movie and support his friends.  Apparently, his brother, Gabe, and the screenwriter, Gabe Friedman, used to work at a fried chicken restaurant back east, where one of the Gabe’s stuck his dick in mashed potatoes and the other fucked a chicken.  He became obsessed with the concept of zombie chickens, and thus the film was born.  Also, neat fact, Eli Roth originally tried to pitch Cabin Fever to Troma, but they rejected him, for various reasons.  But this makes Eli’s entire career make perfect sense.  He’s essentially trying to make big budget Troma films, hence the scenes with big breasted gals shaving the skin off their legs in a backwoods bathtub. 

I love Troma films for what they are, which is the kind of movie where you get drunk with friends and laugh and cackle at all the grossness.  The special effects kids said they made over 30 gallons of blood and various fluids each day for the shoot.  It shows.  This one was easily the finest film, while maintaining all the glorious Troma insider jokes.  The Toxic Avenger and Sergeant Kabukiman made brief cameos.  The Penis Monster from Tromeo and Juliet made an appearance, only this time as a beaked critter.  The giant triffid pod larva looking deal was also in this, standing in for a freshly fucked chicken. Joe Fleischman, the 500 pound legend, played Jared from Subway, and I have now seen a side of him that I never want to see again.  It was the only time I’ve ever seen censor bars across a Troma film.  They even used the car-flipping accident that appears in every one of their movies, and it was just as funny this time.  And yes, Virginia, someone done got their head stomped.

It was such a family atmosphere, it was brilliant.  The love that these people feel for Lloyd Kaufman, and the love he gives back is awe-inspiring.  Here’s a guy who is constantly fighting to get his shitty little pictures made and sold.  He fights for all independent filmmakers, and even purchases non-Troma films for distribution.  And he truly is a lecherous old man.  He was hitting on all the nubile young girls, and would only call on any woman who raised her hand. 

I’m really curious to see what this means for Troma, because I truly feel that this could be a huge breakthrough hit on the level of The Toxic Avenger for the studio.  There will be no sequel, but it shows that they’ve gotten to a point where they can get talented actors, they can get a decent script, and the climate is right for online, gore-filled distribution.  Blockbuster can’t use their cock-blocking non-rated powers anymore to stop Troma from getting seen. 

Anyway, it will not play a theatre near you, but do rent it and watch it.  You’ll be disgusted.   

I Get No Kick From Champagne

Back in the ol’ Hangover Theatre saddle for a time.  I decided on the Transporter duo, enjoyed by Higginbottom, and available at Target in a gift box for 9.99, thanks to the inability of people to figure out what to get their fathers for Father’s Day.

I’m pretty sure my wise cohort TK will agree (even though we’re currently fighting until Sunday — when the Celtics twist the knife), Hangover Theatre’s are infinitely more fun to write than straight-up reviews (where he opts for classic and I opt for spastic), because you get to pander directly to the audience.  And pander I do. 

I can’t help I’m a shameless attention whore.  But, this weekend, I get a rare treat.  I finally get the cinematic equivalent of  NOFX record, or TK’s glorious review of Zombie Strippers.  I get to do the Troma films, Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead.

The Man Who Ate the 747 by Ben Sherwood

What a strangely haunting and beautiful book.  It would make such a touching little romantic comedy that even your grandmother would like.  It’s got such a neat story at it’s core, and even though it rampant with cliche and wooden dialogue, it’s just such a sweet fucking story about what people will do for the ones they love.

JJ Smith works for the Book of Records, a Guinness Book knockoff, where people set out to make history for insane acts.  JJ Smith is the record verifier, so he travels the globe authenticating victories and failures.  The Book has seen better days, and so he needs to find something great.  A letter sends him to middle of nowhere Nebraska, where a man has set out to consume an entire 747 that crashed into his farm as a testament to the woman he loves. 

Now the interesting part is, this man never wanted the attention or the record.  People knew what he was doing, and thought him a bit mad, but he never was public about it.  He just did it for the woman he loved since he was a shy grade school boy.   So his science teacher buddy makes him a machine which grinds the pieces of airplane into a metallic ore which the guy mixes with milk, uses as a ketchup, or as a seasoning.  In order to consume every single inch of the airplane.

The book then becomes a romance about small town life, unrequited love, and the ambition of what love means.  It’s really very beautiful, and I don’t want to give away too many plot points, other than there is a small love triangle and that’s about it.  But, this is one of those Mitch Albom-y stories that just so tender and gentle, you don’t care how poorly assembled or sacchariny it gets. 

This is a hard one to find, but honestly, I’m curious as to whether or not it’s been optioned, because if carefully written, it would make lots of money as a movie.

I really liked the first two Saw movies.  I did.  Very much.  I thought the first had bad acting but a great plot and story.  I though the second had better acting, but not as good of a plot.  Saw III had some interesting gore, but other than that, the plot and story pretty much went right out the fucking window.  Then we’ve got this one.

SPOILERS OF THE OLD ABOUND FROM HERE ON.

Jigsaw is dead.  He dies at the end of the third movie.  They cut his throat, so the cancer doesn’t even get a chance to eat him.  But during his autopsy, they find a videotape imbedded in his skull.  It begins the games again.  But since Amanda dies in the third one as well, there must be someone else.

I assumed that this would pick up at the end of three, with Jeff wandering around looking for his daughter.  Jeff is nowhere in this film, not even mentioned, and only arriving at the very end.  I actually thought I might have accidentally gotten Saw V in an advanced copy.

Basically, this movie follows a black cop, who’s obsessed with finding his partner’s killer, who was the chick who got her innards outarded in Saw III, which was when Amanda had taken over.  This copy is attacked in his home, and told two of his fellow officers will be set free in 90 minutes if he cannot let go of his obsession with Jigsaw.  So then he ends up running the same fucking gambit the dude ran in Saw III, only this time, it’s interspersed with cutscenes involving how Jigsaw went nutsaw and his ex-wife being interrogated by the cop who will presumably be the foil in Saw V against the new Jigsaw neophyte.  I guess Tobin Bell will keep popping up, and I like him, so whatever.  I don’t Shawnee Smith like him, but that’s because he’s not a cute girl who was pregnant in Summer School. 

It weirdly finishes the loop set up in the other Saw movies, by killing off everyone except the folks who’ll be around for Saw V and Saw VI, which are both definitely happening.  If this was going to be like Final Destination, I’d be all for it, because no matter how awful the storylines and characters are in those movies, the murders are totally worth every fucking Rube Goldberg setup.  Saw has actually devolved into the realm of torture porn, which is unfortunate.  But it started the genre, so by all rights it should get to ruin it.

Now this one I liked.  Quite a bit.  It’s a really simple little heist tale, and it’s mostly based on the characterizations, so it really flows nicely.  There’s not a whole lot of complexity, or even originality.  You pretty much know how this is going to turn out, and it takes it’s time in the telling, but the performances are very good.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who earned back what he lost from me in Mysterious Skin (I have decided that Gregg Araki gets one more try from me, and then I banish him — loved Doom Generation, hated pretty much everything else) plays a young kid who was a former hockey star, who drove a carload of his friends and girlfriend into a combine.  He suffered brain damage, and so now he tries to get on with his life in the wake of the tragedy and the injury.  This is some heady shit, and he plays it well.  It’s pretty fucking daunting to watch him, actually. 

Basically, he lives with a blind smartass named Lewis, played wonderfully by Jeff Daniels.  With JGL throwing down, it’d be easy to overlook his performance, but at times I think it’s even more refreshing and enjoyable.  They are going to open a restaurant in an abandoned gas station, and need money from JGL’s father, who’s the town rich guy and who treats his son like a retard. 

Enter the baddies, a group of guys who seduce JGL with niceness and then trick him into helping them rob the bank he works at.  They lure him with a stripper, played by Isla Fisher, who’s name is Luvlee Lemons.  I shit you not.  But it works for this movie, and this movie alone.  So he feels like part of the gang, and when shit goes down, he wants no part.  There’s an arsenal of supporting characters and subplot that goes on, but I don’t want to ruin it for those interested in seeing it.

But don’t expect a daring car chase or some sort of elaborate switcheroo.  This isn’t that kind of movie.  It’s a bank heist movie, but it’s very quiet, and that’s what makes it work so well.  Check it out if you get the chance.