Blockbusters, gutbusters... and cat poetry

I'm not going to lie to you: I'm a little unnerved by the coming summer movie season. Yes, you've got Harry Potter. But you've also got another Fantastic Four movie. You've got a long-awaited Die Hard movie, but you've also got the utterly unawaited, unasked-for and undeserved sequel to Bruce Almighty. I don't know what to make of Transformers, and you will never get me to see I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry for love or money. It's a pretty mixed bag, is what I'm saying.

And nothing exemplifies how random it can be than my reaction to the two movies I saw over the past two weekends. Talk about night and day...

The weird thing is, I had been looking forward to Spiderman 3. Great cast, great director, great source material, great effects -- just a good time all around, right?

And yet, no. There's just too much going on in this movie. Too many subplots, too many characters, too many abrupt changes in motivation. I got the feeling that Sam Raimi was just exhausted with the franchise, and was throwing everything he could find at the wall and hoping some of it stuck. And usually, when you do that, all you wind up with is a messy-ass wall.

Let's see, we've got:

• Peter Parker trying to work up the courage to ask Mary Jane to marry him
• Mary Jane foundering in her career (and rightfully so, given her flat, lifeless singing voice)
• Peter foundering in his career and being superseded by amoral upstart Eddie Block Jr.
• Mary Jane, already insecure about her profession, worrying about losing Peter to Eddie's girlfriend Gwen Stacy
• Harry wanting to kill Peter for (he believes) killing his dad until a bump on the head gives him temporary amnesia
• Flint Marko escaping from jail, trying to snag some scratch for his terminally ill daughter, getting doused by radiation and turning into an ambulatory sandpile
• New revelations about the death of Uncle Ben, while Aunt May continues to grieve and reminisce
• Some blob from a meteor attaching itself to Peter and turning him into a first-rate emo asshole
• The blob later infecting one of Peter's thousand-odd enemies
• Cameos by Bruce Campbell (excellent) and Stan Lee (a little cheesy; surely something better could be found for Stan)

And I've probably left out a subplot or two. I'm getting drained just typing all of that. If I were making this movie, I'd have left out all the business with the Sandman, the whole proposal mespoche, and the bit about Uncle Ben's demise. I'd have focused on the idea of dark selves vs. idealized selves, and what we all have to carve out in the middle.

Honestly, I think that would've made a much more thematically coherent movie. You've got Peter faced with his idealized self in Eddie and his dark self with the black goo; you've got Mary Jane faced with her idealized self in Gwen (beautiful, successful, and with a dad who loves her) turning into her dark self in despair; and then there's Harry, who can only return to his idealized self with a brain injury. This is some yummy, Jungian stuff here, and you can still have plenty of Shit Blowing Up. (Damn. I should write movies, yo.)

Of course, while Peter is facing his dark self, could we please do without the dance tangents? Tobey Maguire is many things; a natural dancer is not one of them. The bit with him putting a little swagger in his step was pretty nice, but when he started snapping his fingers and swiveling his tiny little hips, I just felt embarassed for everyone involved in the shot, right down to the caterers. And the whole club sequence was like Ron Burgundy playing jazz flute, only played with a straight face, which is just plain wrong.

I walked out of Spiderman 3 feeling drained, like I had been the wall at which everything was flung, and damn near none of it had stuck. That catchy theme song stuck, though, so I made up some new, cat-centric lyrics. For some reason, we've started calling Mojo by the name Mojo-Bear. I don't know what's up with that, but he answers to it... well, as much as he answers to anything.

Mojo-Bear, Mojo-Bear
Likes to cough up balls of hair
He'll curl up on your lap
But on the stairs he'll take a crap
Watch your step!
We think that was Mojo-Bear

Emily, Emily
Terrorizes us with pee
Incubus in gray and white
Won't let us sleep through the night
KNOCK IT OFF!
Pipe down there, Emily!

It's a sickness. I can acknowledge that.

J and I had been meaning to see Hot Fuzz since it opened, but didn't have a chance until last weekend. I was still feeling a bit apathetic toward movies after withstanding Spiderman 3, but I figured since the team behind the exquisite Shaun of the Dead was responsible for Hot Fuzz, it would probably be okay.

It wasn't okay.

It was AWESOME!

This time, the film genres lovingly saluted are the action movie, the buddy cop movie, and the cozy English murder mystery. (If you get the higher-numbered cable channels, keep an eye out for "Midsomer Murders" reruns. Where else can you see a young Orlando Bloom get impaled on a pitchfork? Good times!) Again, the comedy ranges from physical slapstick to literary references to situational absurdity -- often all at the same time. Like Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz is positively dense with comedy, to the point that we'll simply have to buy it and watch it dozens of times to fully appreciate it all.

Supercop Nick Angel, sent to the charming village of Sandford so he'll quit spoiling the curve for his fellow London officers, is 180 degrees from the slacker character of Shaun that Simon Pegg played just three years ago. He's reunited with Nick Frost, who will always be Ed to me, as his sidekick, but joined this time by a stellar cast that indicates how well-received Shaun of the Dead was in the UK.

I'm not sure which casting choice delighted me the most: Timothy Dalton as a sinister grocer, Jim Broadbent as a nutty police inspector or Edward Woodward as the neighborhood watch leader. Dalton was the most fun to watch, though, from the moment he introduced himself to Nick with "I'm a slasher... of prices!" The stunt cameos are a hoot, too: Cate Blanchett plays Nick's ex-girlfriend, only her eyes visible in her CSI suit, while Peter Jackson briefly appears as a felonious Santa.

I should warn you that, like Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz is not shy about blood and guts, but at least there aren't any zombies on the loose. (Special note to my friend Felicia: a large bird plays a minor part in the plot. Proceed with caution.) It's as loud and clackety as the action flicks it sends up, and I'm sure I totally missed a couple of homages to Bad Boys II, another film nothing can compel me to see.

But Hot Fuzz entertained me thoroughly, as both a spectator and an aficionada of cleverly-made films, and more importantly, it restored my faith in the movies as a source of joy. That feeling will probably not survive past the middle of June, but I'm glad to have it while I can.

Comments

[SueBee]

Chica! I am with you on Hot Fuzz!
I'll be purchasing it on DVD as soon as possible, assuming there are copies left to buy in North America as soon as it's released. I'm expecting it to get bought out instantly. I am also ridiculously happy that Simon Pegg resembles noone so much as Tintin. I'll be out looking for my SimonPegg/Tintin memorabilia now.

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, see:
http://www.cherwell.org/files/tintin.jpg
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tintin_and_Snowy

[Marius]

You brought up some great points and your arguments make sense. Personally, I agree with MarryAnn. With Spidey 2, Raimi just set the bar too high. I wasn't blown away by Spidey 3, but I was entertained. Also, Simon Pegg is the man!