My take: Superman Returns

I must admit that I had low expectations going to see this movie. I tend to not listen and give too much weight to mainstream critics, though I do enjoy their opinions. Instead, I prefer "word-of-mouth" from friends, family, and coworkers on movies they've seen. That being said, the early reviews of both varieties were greatly mixed and rather polarizing with not much in terms of middle ground; surprising as it may be, that's where I found myself, smack dab in the middle.

For starters, let me say that in my opinion, Christopher Reeve is Superman. Period. The director knew this and apparently set out to find someone who resembled a young Reeve, and he did with Brandon Routh. There's just one problem - the kid can't act. For Spiderman, they needed a Peter Parker - CGI would take care of the crime fighting alter ego; for Batman, they needed a Bruce Wayne (you get the idea). Superman, though, doesn't get to hide behind anything but a pair of glasses, therefore the actor picked has to be able to carry two roles. Routh spent most of the movie playing Christopher Reeve playing Superman/Clark Kent. The scenes where he was Kent eventually worked into his own goofy style, but the scenes in tights and cape where he had to interact were almost painful at times.

Strangely, though, I don't consider that the biggest casting mistake of the movie- that would be the too young Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane. Given the general idea that this movie occurs after Superman has left (thus, his Return), she looks as if she would have been graduating from high school. I understand the desire to have a younger cast, but if that's the case, why not just do a Superman Begins and retell the story of Superman instead of picking up where things left off? (Sidebar: through other discussions, I've heard that this supposedly sweeps the dreck that is Superman III and IV under the rug as if it never happened. However, there is nothing in the movie that directly references certain events or baddies from the earlier movies.)

The story could have used a little more work, too. Essentially, Superman makes his triumphant return to the city of Metropolis just as Lex Luthor is released from prison and seeks to create mayhem using pieces from Superman's icehouse fortress. Strangely, this actually seems to take a backseat to the overly complex love story between the Man of Steel and Lois. In a vague attempt at lashing out, she has written a piece on "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman" which went on to win her a Pulitzer. The love story is turned in to a triangle, and then a parrellogram when another man and a child are thrown in to the mix, with the rampant question of who's child is it - Superman or Joe Shmoe?

In all, it just goes too long and is really let down by an ending that will go down in the annals of hero-dom as possibly one of the most anti-climatic ever - he tosses a rock. Not at anybody, just away. That's it.

With all that being said, there are some things to like- the opening credits, Superman's return to hero duty saving a plane, him taking hundreds of bullets off his chest and one off the eye, Kevin Spacey's Luthor (who is only hampered by the syb-par script he's been given). I will admit that I had lower expectations going in to this than I did Pirates II, which I gave a provisional 7/10 (providing that they don't mess up the last one). I actually enjoyed this more than Pirates, but knocking a point off for having to knock my expectations down a notch, I have to give this a 6 out of 10.

And let me add this. At this point, there's no reason to believe that there won't be a sequel. Brian Singer, if you don't want it to blow, then bring back Gen. Zodd.

Tragic story

A few days ago, Jennifer Ewing, a 54 year old mother of three went for a bike ride on the Silver Comet Trail as she normally does. Only this time, she didn't come home:

...police found a body believed to be that of Jennifer Ewing, a 54-year-old Sandy Springs mother of three who often rode 50 miles in a day. The apparent homicide victim was discovered 40 feet off the trail, near mile marker 17 between Hiram and Dallas, after she did not come home Tuesday. Black spandex riding shorts were found atop a patch of kudzu nearby.

For those that aren't aware, the Silver Comet is a set of biking, hiking, and rollerblading trails that go from the borders of west Atlanta to Alabama; it's set on what used to be railroad lines, so there are no steep inclines or curves. It's quite popular to many in the metro area; it's also very secluded - in my mind, the perfect place for a criminally minded freak to hang out. While it's not been a hot bed of assaults, muggings, or worse in the past, it has happened now - and will most likely occur again. Lulling oneself in to a sense of complacency that it's a safe serene place is the first step toward danger.

Many of you can see this coming, but guess what the Comet's policy is on firearms? Prohibited. Despite the fact that criminals could care less and will bring one if they want (thus leaving law abiding citizens as defenseless as a shorn sheep). Despite the fact that when asked, an armed citizen is something that criminals fear most. Despite the fact that most law-abiding, permit-carrying gun owners have more training in terms of safety and proper usage than many police officers and attempt to resolve conflicts without ever firing a shot (see recent post about the crazed knife wielder).

I'm sorry this happened and will keep this family in my prayers. I just hope that some good can come from it.

My Take: Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest

The first Pirates was a great ride from beginning to finish, interlaced with a good bit of screwball pirate comedy made all the better by Johnny Depp's portrayal of Capt. Jack Sparrow. He and the rest of the main players from the first movie are all back in Dead Man's Chest; while this is the second in the series, it's actually part one of a two parter and plays out just as such.

It begins with the impending nuptials of Elisabeth (played by Natalie Portman look alike Keira Nightly) and Will Turner (played by Orlando Bloom Legolas). Things go awry when a Captain from the East India Trading Company arrives demanding the arrest of the almost bride and groom. Eventually it comes out that the Capatain wants something from the notorious Capt. Jack Sparrow and promises freedom to Will and Elisabeth if Will can get Jack's compass. This pursuit takes up the first half of the movie and serves to update everybody on where everyone else is as well as give Jack a platform for more of his antics, which always illicit at least a chuckle and sometimes a boisterous laugh.

Along the way we are introduced to Davey Jones, the notorious pirate that captains the Flying Dutchman, apparently a ship the equal of the Black Pearl in terms of "Oh, no - pirates!" We also get to meet the father of Will Turner, the oft-mentioned-in-the-first-film Bootstrap Bill, himself a member of Jones' crew. The second half of the movie is spent with Will joining his father and the crew of the Dutchman, secretly trying to find a key that Capt. Davey keeps a... err... secret. This is where the movie really starts to get it's legs, as Jack, Will, and a washed up Commodore Norrington begin a three way duel for the contents of the Dead Man's Chest, and another hilarious melt down by Elizabeth on a deserted island.

There's a lot to like in this movie, but I have to wonder if the plot couldn't have been simplified a little more and then allowed the characters to complicate things, a la the first Pirates. I spent the first half of the movie trying to figure things out more, something that wasn't really required for the first movie. Also, I never fully understood why the crew of the Dutchman were able to survive underwater (granted, they all have some sort of fish that they represent - squids, sharks, etc.) but could be felled by a sword without a problem. And Davey Jones never reaches the heights of Geoffrey Rush's portrayal of the dastardly Capt. Barbosa; instead, he comes off more like a lover sick puppy when it is truly revealed what is inside the chest wanted by all.

Taking this movie on it's own merits, without having seen the next one, I find myself teetering between a 6 and 7 (out of 10); the first half really kind of dragged for me, but the second half was a good payoff. But, because of a major event at the end (see pirates booty below), I'll give it the 7. However, I reserve the right to change this to a 6 or even worse if they blow the next movie.

Beware, mateys! Thar be major pirate booty below - proceed at your own risk! (Read: spoilers below posted in invisio-text - highlight if you want):

• Jack's compass spends the movie spinning in all different directions, but settles on Davey Jones' heart - the contents of the Dead Man's Chest.
• After teasing him throughout the movie, Elizabeth finally plants a big wet sloppy one on Jack that cathes the eye of her fiancé - shortly before she chains Sparrow to the Pearl as the rest of the crew abandons ship, something she regrets for the rest of the movie because...
• Jack battles the Cracken, a giant see monster, as it overtakes the Black Pearl. He's last seen stepping in to it's mouth with sword drawn. Moments later, the monster crushes the Pearl and takes it down to the bottom of the sea.
• The survivors of the Pearl, including Will and Elizabeth, return to the "witch-doctor" woman, despondent at the loss of Jack, the Pearl, and the heart of Jones. Elizabeth seems to be very quietly suffering, what with her murdering Jack and all.
• The last scene has the crew meeting there new Captain, the one who will take them to the End of the World to find the Cracken - Captain Barbosa, in all his Granny-Smith-apple eating glory.
  

Enjoy!

Stop, or I'll Tackle You!

From the "there is no slant in the media" files comes this story from the AP in the USA today (emphasis added):

Eight employees were stabbed Friday by a co-worker at a Memphis suburban grocery store, and four were seriously injured, police said. The victims were identified only as six females and two males who worked at the Schnucks grocery. The suspect was tackled by a witness as he tried to run from the building and was held until officers arrived, Higgins said.

Hmm, so the spirit of Reggie White came over a witness who tackled and held the crazed knife wielder until police arrived. Well, that's what Reuters reported, too:

Seven people were stabbed on Friday by a knife-wielding man at a supermarket near Memphis, police said. The attacker was wrestled to the ground in a parking lot and arrested.

Oh, he was wrestled instead of tackled? Well those are close enough. But, is it the truth? Here's the first line of another AP report posted to Yahoo News on the same incident:

Two victims of a knife-wielding grocery store employee remained hospitalized Saturday after the man attacked eight co-workers and was finally stopped by a witness who pulled a gun, authorities said.

Somebody find for me where in this next part that he was tackled or wrestled:

Ingram (the assailant, Ed.), chasing one victim into the store's parking lot, was subdued by Chris Cope, manager of a financial services office in the same small shopping center, Memphis Police Sgt. Vince Higgins said.

Cope said he grabbed a 9mm semiautomatic pistol from his pickup truck when he saw the attacker chasing the victim "like something in a serial killer movie."

"When he turned around and saw my pistol, he threw the knife away, put his hands up and got on the ground," Cope told The Associated Press. "He saw my gun and that was pretty much it."

Can't have a gun in a private citizen's hands be anything but evil, ya know?

Hat tip: Cam Edwards.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños!

Mi amigo Moshe tiene... pues, yo no sé cuantos años. No es importante. Él está celebrando en la España ahora pero va a volver a los estados unidos en dos semanas. ¡Felicidades, amigo! Y lo siento por el foto, pero eso es todo que yo tengo. Jajajaja...

For those of my friends that no speaka da spanglish, consider this a Caption This post and provide your best caption to my buddy Moshe's favorite pic. The best one gets a 1000 points.

I'll go first: "Oh, snap! Who told you I was white?"

My take: Man on Fire

For those of you that like revenge-action-thrillers, I give you Man on Fire, a movie I consider to be better than what most give it credit for. Set in the crime ridden metropolis of Mexico City, Mexico, it's the story of former soldier and current drunk John Creasy played remarkably well by Denzell Washington. His job is that of a bodyguard to a young girl, Pita, played by the always engaging Dakota Fanning. The movie begins with a quote of what the kidnapping statictics are in the city, something along the lines of one every hour; 70% of them end violently, we're told (a quick Google search doesn't specifically back this up, but there are still horror stories that don't ring hollow). Also in the movie is Marc Anthony as Pita's father, a workaholic businessman who is more interested in hiring someone to fulfill an insurance policy than a true bodyguard; Mickey Rourke, who holds a sacred place in the hearts of so many Hollywood folk despite being a class A jerk, does well in the role of the family attorney who's a class A+ jerk; and practically a cameo by Christopher "Cowbell" Walken as Creasy's old friend who gets him the job as the bodyguard.

The story progresses forward with a somewhat cookie cutter design, but watching Pita and Creasy interact takes away from what could be boring and uninteresting. That said, the filmmaker does go a bit far (I think) in trying to establish how troubled Creasy is. At first there is tension between the girl and the grizzled vet, but before long Pita's charm begins to wear down his tough guy facade and the two begin a friendship that more resembles that of a favorite uncle and niece than anything else. Creasy, in his drill, drill, and more drill personality assists Pita with her homework, piano, and even plays an integral part in preparing her for a swim meet.

Despite Creasy's efforts, Pita is abducted, a scene that closes out the "first half" of the movie, so to speak. Until this point, it has resembled an odd-couple, buddy type flick; it now gets violently shoved into the revenge-thriller genre that it truly belongs in. Creasy, with the aid of some local officials who are powerless due to the high levels of corruption, goes on the warpath to abolish the group responsible for the girl's abduction. "I'm gonna take them apart piece by piece," Creasy growls, and then sets out to do just that.

The second half of the movie is violent, with Creasy emplying a number of tactics and interogation styles to get to the next level of what turns out to be a kidnapping empire. Along the way, there are a few twists that occur that slightly alter the direction, but ultimately you'll walk away feeling like you've just seen a good amount of vengeance meeted out. A solid 8 of 10.

There are two DVD versions out, the regular and the collector's edition. The regular is a bare bones, no frills version while the collector's edition contains a second disc full of deleted scenes including an alternate ending that may be better than the one in the film (in my opinion, it is). There are also behind the scenes documentaries that chronicle just how dangerous it really was filming in Mexico City. If you do this movie, do yourself a favor and go for the collector's edition - you won't be dissapointed.

The "Last" Birthday

Today is my wife's 23rd 29th birthday, quite sadly the last one she'll ever celebrate. Oh, sure, there will be anniversarys of the 29th birthday for years to come; and, truth be told, I almost don't blame her for not wanting to celebrate the next sequential number - need I remind you of how I celebrated my 30th?

Nevertheless, as this is the last numerically numbered birthday my betrothed will allow us to scribble on a cake, I have been about my business these past few weeks attempting to find the holy grail - the perfect gift. Somewhere in Genesis must be the commandment given by God that the husband shall rule over the Earth and buy his wife presents. Yes, presents. Plural. It's somewhere after we gave them our rib.

There is a flaw in this process that I particularly exhibit, and that is wrapping. For the most part, I give her things that will fit in a bag so that she doesn't come home and think a 10 year old has broken in to the house and wrapped some stuff up. And really, who came up with this idea of wrapping birthday gifts, anyway? I hope they choked on a bow.

Anyhow, I set about my job of locating the grail by the most complex manner possible - I asked my wife. Now, during the other 363 days of the year, this is a woman that will mention to me "I'd like this" and "I wouldn't mind having that" when we're out at various places. But if you ask her a point blank question, she gets a shell shocked, deer in the headlights look and immediately follows it up with "Oh, I don't know - nothing too extravagant." Many men, far stupider than I, have fallen on those Cliffs of Insanity.

So questioning her no longer is a viable option. Any extra interrogation illicits a response along the lines of "you've known me for ____ years/months and you don't know?!?" (Not that I've ever gotten this response, I have heard it used before) So, jumping off the Cliffs, I parasailed and perused through various websites and stores, namely the ones she frequents most - Pottery Barn, Williams Sonoma, BassPro Shops... I may have wandered off course just a smidge.

At the end of it all, though, I realized something. There was no commandment from her that I get her The Perfect Gift. That was apparently a conversation I have in my head (like you don't have them, too). When it comes down to it, I'm sure she'd just like to sit down and have a nice meal and spend some time with me, while gazing longingly at her new oh, now I'm going to tell you?.

About one hour ago, my lovely, 29 years young wife stumbled down the stairs on this birthday morning and dsicovered the first part of the grail - a not a chance with some are you kidding me. Today when she gets home she'll see the next part of what I found for her, a fuhgedaboutit. And in another week or so, when the US postal service gets a round tuit, the remainder of her presents will arrive - if you're actually reading this, you know I won't give a thing away.

At the end of it all, though, I realized something. There was no commandment from her that I get her The Perfect Gift. That was apparently a conversation I had in my head (like you don't have them, too). When it comes down to it, I'm sure she'd just like to sit down and have a nice meal and spend some time with me, while gazing longingly at her new oh, now I'm going to tell you?.

Happy Birthday, Hunny, for many years to come!

Missed date night

I realized this morning that I missed one of the few annual date nights my wife and I have - the Homerun Derby. I'm not sure where and when my wife's fascination with this precursor to the All Star Game began (I do know who - El Sr. Javy Lopez), but I just know that she usually gets all excited about it, which is the reason I got excited about it. I mean seriously, this is the girl that falls asleep at baseball games.

Anyway, over the past few years, I've found that I have a "care less" attitude towards this once anticipated event. I'm not sure why, but there are several possible reasons. For starters, the steroid revelations of the past few years; but I think it's more the fact that the homerun is now fairly common in baseball. I'll grant that that may be the case due to the juice, but the simple fact is there are more guys pounding out 30 homers a year now than there have been in years; it used to be considered a good season if you did that, a great one if you hit 40, and an unbelievable year if you reached 50.

Maybe it's because the memories of Big Mac, Barry au Juice Bonds, and Sammy Corkie Sosa crushing the 60 and 70 homerun barriers. Maybe it's because of guys like Adam Dunn that hit a .250 average or less while smacking 40 plus homers. Maybe it's the team GMs that seem to prefer a bopper over a Tony Gwynn type hitter.

I don't know what it really is. I just know that now I don't look forward to the Derby as much as I used to, and neither does my wife. I won't even start on my feelings of the All Star game.

Christianity rated PG

A small brouhaha is being kicked up over the Baptist backed movie Facing the Giants due to the MPAA giving the movie a PG rating.

The Christian moviemakers behind a low-budget film called "Facing the Giants" were stunned when the MPAA pinned a PG rating on their gentle movie about a burned-out, depressed football coach whose life - on and off the field - takes a miraculous turn for the better.

"What the MPAA said is that the movie contained strong 'thematic elements' that might disturb some parents," said Kris Fuhr, vice president for marketing at Provident Films, which is owned by Sony Pictures. Provident plans to open the film next fall in 380 theaters nationwide with the help of Samuel Goldwyn Films, which has worked with indie movies like "The Squid and the Whale."

So, what were the "thematic elements" present that necessitated the rating? Must have been some locker-room humor, right?

In this case, she [Fuhr] was told that it "decided that the movie was heavily laden with messages from one religion and that this might offend people from other religions. It's important that they used the word 'proselytizing' when they talked about giving this movie a PG. ...

"It is kind of interesting that faith has joined that list of deadly sins that the MPAA board wants to warn parents to worry about."

Here's a synopsis of the scene that apparently is over the top:

But the scene that caught the MPAA's attention may have been the chat between football coach Grant Taylor - played by Alex Kendrick - and a rich brat named Matt Prader. The coach says that he needs to stop bad-mouthing his bossy father and get right with God.

The boy replies: "You really believe in all that honoring God and following Jesus stuff? ... Well, I ain't trying to be disrespectful, but not everybody believes in that."

The coach replies: "Matt, nobody's forcing anything on you. Following Jesus Christ is the decision that you're going to have to make for yourself. You may not want to accept it, because it'll change your life. You'll never be the same."

So next time you're at church, you may want to screen that pastor's sermon at the early service before and decide if it's too strong a theme for your kid. [/sarcasm]

A Dish Best Served Cold

I have flaws - many of them. Most of them I'm aware of, some I'm not. One I am keenly aware of, day in and day out, that requires constant attention, discipline, and restraint, is my revenge bone. Whether on the softball field (darned Methodists), the football field (cheating Pi Kapps), the workplace, etc., it's something that is constantly causing an inner struggle within me when someone does something "wrong." The crazy thing is, it doesn't even have to be done specifically to me; simply doing something to someone I love, friend or family, makes them my foe.

So imagine how I feel when I get a call this morning from my brother. Immediately I know something has to be wrong - phone calls on a Sunday morning before church are never good things. Then he proceeds to tell me that some low life thug criminal broke in to my 88 year old aunt's home, beat her, tied her up, stole her car and money, cut her phone line, and left.

What would you want to do? I mean what possible explanation could a person have for wanting or even needing to beat up an 88 year old lady? Sure, the Ivey women are a feisty bunch, more so the ones that married in to the clan, but just how much fight could there be versus a 200 lb. prison escapee? Who on this earth would even want to associate with the likes of this reprobate?
She has just undergone surgery on her eye - he smashed her socket with an iron holder; the current prognosis is that she will lose sight. She probably has some bruised ribs, but those will heal. The emotional and mental scars probably never will. This is a sweet, kind, open-hearted "lil ol' lady" of the South, the kind that would open her door to a coward in sheep's clothing that claimed he was selling Bibles for a mission trip. I doubt she'll ever even be able to live in her own house, on her own, just as she has been for God knows how many years now (her husband passed several years ago).

I pray that God will take this anger, this revenge filled rage from me, the part of me that wants to use the creative Godly gifts I have for that of evil, just so I can satisfy my own desire and to feel justice has been done. For I know justice will be done, and one day this malcontent will have to answer, either in this life or the one that immediately begins at his expiration date. I pray that when my vision is clouded, that the gentle breeze of his love will clear the distortion caused ultimately by a flaw that I have. I pray that flaw never, ever, has me.

Amen.

ps- if by sheer happenstance the billy club of the pursuing officer were to be thrust forcefully in to this guy's stomach, knee, head, foot, ankle, groin, ribs, shoulder, and pancreas, I'm okay with that, too.