Half-Masked

Anyone who has watched Fox News(or The Daily Show making fun of Fox News) has seen some insidious, childish behaviour. This is hardly new to Fox, but the Town Hall incidents are particularly interesting to me. It’s obvious that the most prominent and visible nutjobs in the right are still pissed off about the results of the 2008 election. Everyone expected them to be miserable whiners about it. They’re Fox News. That’s what they do. They get ratings for the same reason Jerry Springer does. How low can they go, you know?

And it’s already old news that the Town Hall outbursts are planned in advance by what appear to be volunteer soldiers in a War of Stupidity. People certainly have the right to be angry or on edge in these times, but shouting what Glenn Beck said yesterday over a public speaker probably isn’t the best way to get people on your side of the debate. They coin terms like “death panels”. They try to bully people into their thinking, don’t look at any of the issues from any side but their own and then have the audacity to compare the other side to Nazi Germany for making the wealthy pay taxes. That particular knee-jerk practice is getting more and more ironic by the hour.

The baffling thing is, they shouldn’t be resorting to this. While I do think President Obama was the better choice in the last election, he’s still a Democrat. In the choice between Democrats and Republicans, it’s never about who’s better. It is, as Lewis Black put it: “Voting Crappy, or voting Crappier.” It’s “a shotgun blast to the foot vs. a shotgun blast to the face”. It’s a giant douche vs. a turd-filled sandwich. And it’s not always the same party playing the same role, either.

I never expected the Obama presidency to be one that would do a whole lot of good. He was elected because between him and McCain, his administration would merely slow down the self-destruct sequence of his country. That said, his presidency has managed to disappoint on key issues we’re all at least passingly familiar with by now.

It seems to me if the Hannitys, Becks, Coulters and O’Reillys of the world really want to win support, they shouldn’t be trying really, super hard to make Obama look like Adolph-Charles Hitler-Manson*. That’s why McCain lost. A wiser group would let their opponents shortcomings speak for themselves.

They have no subtlety. It’s desperate. It says they don’t trust the intelligence of their audience, or even their supporters to come to their own conclusions and thus need to be force-fed how to feel. It’s pathetic. They see a man who, while he certainly seems like he’s trying, isn’t exactly bringing the United States to prosperity on a unicorn made of sex and Rock and Roll. With all of the real, valid things that they could criticize the current President of the United States for, do they really feel they must make up shit about his birth certificate, and then resort to name-calling? It’s just bad strategy. These people are trying to make a monster out of Obama, just ugly and horrible enough to distract from their own monstrous behaviour. I don’t think it’s working.

A smarter, more mature, more capable Republican wouldn’t treat his supporters like soldiers. I’m more to the Left of Centre myself, so I’m not exactly seething with rage over having a black man in the white house. I’m not posting this because I sympathize with Fox News or any of its legion of assholes. But I am aware of the existence of Republican supporters who -aren’t- looney tunes, who maybe don’t think everyone must be Christian/White/Straight and Celibate. People who actually have a good head on their shoulders, and aren’t prone to barking matches with anyone who dares to veer from their school of thought. People who don’t take a stand against Medicare reform solely because they have stock in insurance companies. Unfortunately, all of the people speaking for them have taught themselves that noise is more important than a message. Call me crazy, call me a socialist, and maybe it’s too soon to tell, but I doubt 2012 will be their year.

*-Ima go read Karnak’s comic now.

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~A.H.

by Alex Hill

Could we get a few more vowels in there, maybe?

I envy anyone who can even describe a Quentin Tarantino movie, let alone write a review for them. I’ve seen Inglourious Basterds in what must be the most packed theatre I’ve been in. “District 9″ was fortunate that it was released sooner. Its reign at the top of the box office will be short-lived. Tarantino’s new film is, I think, going to hold the public’s attention much longer. And I have no earthly idea what it is I’ve just watched. Calling it a comedy shortchanges its dramatic punch. Calling it a drama belies the humour it finds in the uncomfortable black reaches of Nazi-occupied France in the 1940’s. It defies explanation or classification. The best I can do is say that it is definitely a “Quentin Tarantino movie”. To anyone who’s seen his previous work, you’ll know what I’m talking about. If not, well, you will after you see Inglourious Basterds.

It follows a handful of Jewish-Americans dropped into France in the early ’40’s, intent to destroy and scalp as many Nazis as they can. And that’s about all we hear from them. I’m not kidding. The title characters in this film are barely even in the movie, save for a couple of comic-relief meat-heads. It isn’t strange to feel cheated sometimes, especially when some characters receive an unusual amount of attention and build-up only to wind up dead 10 minutes later.

I guess that’s how it is in war. Everyone’s fair game. This is something you’ll find in any Tarantino movie. No matter what you may know about his past work, about actors, about top-billing, you do not know who is going to survive in his films. In a boring picture, the only survivors are the lead actor and actress. You know, the “big stars” who adorn the greatest amount of space on the poster. Some movies you see coming all the way down sunset.

This director, instead, writes so that his characters’ actions drive them to their fates, whatever that may be. It doesn’t matter if you’re the comic relief, the mousey rookie, the minority figure, the dame, the midget, or even Brad Pitt. No one is bulletproof. Nor are any more destined for an early demise than their company. I admire any movie that doesn’t leave me knowing how it will end as soon as it starts. There are survivors in Inglourious Basterds, but don’t think you can expect ‘em to be who you expect ‘em to be.

I also admire the unapologetic pace seen here, and also in “Jackie Brown” and “Kill Bill Volume 2″. There is violence, oh is there ever violence. But it builds up to that. Indeed, it takes its sweet damn time, and I am thankful for that. To those who left Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen sick of confusingly edited scenes of carnage, take heed that only one such instance occurs here. It is otherwise a long, maddening crawl toward almost unwatchable, often completely unexpected bloodshed. Perhaps it takes us off our guard by letting us get comfortable with scenes of extensive dialogue and Tarantino’s vintage sense of humour. This movie conditions us, then desensitizes, then re-sensitizes. It sets us up, breaks us down, and starts the process over. Building higher, and breaking harder. I’m convinced those with short attention spans will not be disappointed. Even when the subtitles take control of the film, he never reduces the audience to boredom. He makes every second count.

Do I dislike Brad Pitt? That’s what I found myself asking as I watched this. I don’t think I do. I think I’m just sick of him being the subject of intense scrutiny and examination, simply for existing. Is his real life really that interesting? Can’t Entertainment Tonight just leave this guy alone? He applies himself well here. Do paparazzi really think it’s more interesting to see him leaving a restaurant than playing a Tennessee leader with Apache ancestry attempting to sneak into a movie premiere by pretending to be Italian? The first word that fell out of his mouth in that scene left every seat in stitches. I liked him at that point.

I guess it doesn’t bare saying that this is a film of fascinating performances. I almost said they were “human”, but what human beings act or speak like this? It sort of comes with the territory. Christoph Waltz plays the quintessential Classhole, a nazi officer with the much-earned nickname of “The Jew Hunter”. He is a man who knows his opponent and the strategy in front of them well before they’d like. He’s seen it all, indeed he seems omniscient at times. I don’t think any plan of subterfuge would get past him, and then here come the Basterds, for whom let it be said that subtlety is not a strong point. He is a man content to let his victims think they are in the clear. All the better to snatch their hopes from them just before they can be fulfilled. And his tone is so polite, so without-a-care that he fools even his commanding officers in ordinary conversation. Waltz plays him as a man who knows, who knows they know, and who knows they know he knows, and is content to let his prey stew in that. Watching him is a tennis-match between giggling at his script and squirming at the malevolent evil that he enjoys as a hobby, with the attitude others might apply to a stamp collection.

There is an entire “Chapter” devoted to a bar full of interesting personalities, some pretending, some honest, some drunken, and some dangerously focused. The Projectionists, played by Melanie Laurent and Jacky Ido, are good people in a bad time who might just play the most important role in re-writing history. Even Mike Myers(yes, THAT Mike Myers) is here in a subdued role, as a British officer debriefing one of his boys sneaking into France to join the Basterds. This isn’t just a World War II movie, but a movie about its characters, and how their oddities collide with each other.

Much can be said for the experience of viewing a movie as much as the movie itself. The right speakers in the AMC chain I visited did not appear to be functioning, so I could only make out half of what was being said. And I was still enthralled. Forgive the rating at the top of this review. It feels wrong to try and cram a film like Inglourious Basterds into a 1-5 rating scale. I might as well assign it a question mark, or Twelve Goats out of Blimp. I’m sure I’ll regret it later, no matter what number is up there. QT’s film, like all of his films, draw from strange and seemingly alien sources of reference than we’ve come to expect from conventional Hollywood. Even the soundtrack is mostly instrumental selections from features like “The Alamo”, “The Big Gundown” and… “Cat People”. Some might see it as a Frankenstein of War and Spaghetti Western movies. It just might also be his masterpiece.

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~A.H.

Wanna hear something weird?

Lately, for the big-end, high-def, volumetric light-bloom pixel-buffering flibbity-flabbity-floo games that have come out in the last couple of years, I’ve developed a strange habit in playing them. Namely, I turn the colour on my television all the way down, so that I’m playing a Black and White game. I’ve also started doing this for movies.

And I absolutely love it.

I first got the idea from an old I-Mockery.com article on John Carpenter’s The Thing. For horror movies, I can confirm this works wonders. Even for modern movies this brings a whole new dimension to a given work. I think everyone should see The Dark Knight in black and white at least once, if only to bring it closer to the film-noir aspects it wisely embodies and pays tribute to.

But is this right? Does this undermine the filmmaker’s vision? We are essentially talking about the opposite of Colorization, of which many have cried out against as dragging our boots on hallowed ground. Is this respectful to how these craftsmen intended these movies to be seen, and felt? Maybe not. Is it -better- than films in colour? That greatly depends on your own thoughts on the subject. With Black and White, you lose some things, but you definitely gain others. The shadows swallow the world of these places and situations, and every scrap of light is all the more poignant.

Compare. Yes, the top picture is certainly pretty in some aspects. But doesn't it look a little too "inviting" for a zombie game? It gives a feeling of safety and assurance that perhaps should not be an aspect of flesh-crazed zombie hordes.

For an example of this, I have a difficult time playing Left 4 Dead in colour for an extended period of time because of this practice. It just doesn’t do it for me. Colour is comforting. That’s not what I want to feel in a game about being completely isolated from rescue in a barren, monster-infested husk of the civilized world. Resident Evil 5 is another example of a game surrounding you with the rape of the familiar. Both games certainly make impressive use of the rainbow, but I find they are more without that to rely on. Even a lumbering dimwit of a game like Halo 3 almost seems dignified this way.

Not that I discard colour entirely. Now and then, I’ll turn the colour back on, and find everything comes to life. Because I’ve seen only monochrome, I appreciate the spectrum of reds, blues, greens and yellows and such all the more. An ideal setup with Left 4 Dead is to play a Campaign in black and white, then initiate the last stand or “Finale” section with colour.

Why am I saying all of this? Well, I find there is perhaps more than a passing coincidence since attempting this simple technique prior to watching or playing something, and a new-found curiosity in black and white films of decades past. I still love colour in art and entertainment, but now I’ve found a whole new side of the coin. And I like it here. Perhaps if more of my generation gave this ritual a shot, they too might develop a wonderlust for the ancient media that captivated our forefathers.

If nothing else, it can make The Shining about 4 times more pants-crapping. I don’t even want to think of what this would do for The Exorcist.

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~A.H.