The House of Irony / Movies

Hopefully this will get some of the other members of the House to crawl out from beneath the rocks they’ve been hiding under, concocting their quizzes and playing their Warcraft.

Warner Bros. is going ahead with a Conan movie, set to start filming in 2007. The writer (and potential director) is Boaz Yakin, a lifetime fan of Robert E. Howard’s tales. He hopes to bring that devotion to Howard’s work to the big screen. Sounds great, right? Unfortunately for some, what this means is that this will be a remake and not a sequel. And not only will Schwarzenegger not be involved, but a large chunk of what many people consider to be part of the Conan canon will be obliterated. For example, Conan’s village wasn’t destroyed in the original stories, nor was he sent into slavery, worked as a gladiator or fought serpent men. Hell, in the original Howard stories Cimmeria was supposed to be a stand-in for Scotland, not Austria. In fact, many of the more familiar aspects of Conan the motion picture were actually lifted from other works of Howard’s, like King Kull and Bran Mak Morn.

It’s understandable why the filmmakers did this. Most of Howard’s stories were more like tales heard around the campfire. They had no real connection to one another, and no drive that pushed the narrative forward as a whole. In the short stories, Conan simply develops wanderlust after hearing tales of lands outside Cimmeria, and leaves to seek adventure. Not nearly as rousing as a tale of revenge.

As much as I love the original film and believe that it captured the essence of Howard’s creation, having read the original stories many times over I’m looking forward to this remake. If they do intend on sticking with the original text, they’re going to have a hard time making it work, not only because of the resistance from the rabid fans of the original, but also in adapting such a fractured tale.

Yesterday I was lucky enough to see a question and answer session with German Director Werner Herzog.

Some of the more interesting things he talked about were:

1 Landscapes as his starting point and talked about how he directs them.
2 How to hypnotize a Chicken by quickly drawing a chalk line in front of them.
3 The barbarous nature of chickens – he called them cannibals and called their gaze “flat”.
4 His disgust for psychology.
5 The importance of language (he urged aspiring filmmakers to study other major languages).
6 The importance of journey on foot.
7 His view that nature is base and vile.
8 That there is no excuse for filmmakers today as good equipment is so readily available and cheap – he then said if you need money work as a bouncer in a sex club.

All his answers were very blunt, direct and at times dark. He told a story where in response to a rumour that was floating around about a crew member getting hit by a truck (she wasn’t) he created a wilder rumour by telling an Italian reporter that after the truck driver hit her – he got out and raped her on the street. I laughed very loudly at this. So much so that some dude in a cardigan turned around and shot me a disgusted look. I may think rape is funny – but he was wearing a cardigan, fuck you sir.

After the event was over I was on my way out with the space junk crew when I spotted Herzog to my right. I bee lined it to him and said “Thank you Mr Herzog” – he shook my hand and said “Thank you for coming”. I then asked him why he decided to shave his moustache. He smiled and said “Oh I don’t remember – I must have lost it during life’s trials and tribulations. ” I then said, “I am going to be honest with you – you grown an amazing moustache.”

I was pretty excited to speak to him, and later than night Wintle suggested I fuck the hand that shook his hand. This was good advice, and by osmosis my cock is now able to direct landscapes.

Interests: Karaoke, pop music, scooter racing, sushi, origami, switchblades, hamsters, chain fights, hair pulling, Doremon, pick pocketing, hair salons, and revenge.

The new Miss Pinky Violence has been chosen.

I have a feeling that, despite the mind-boggling ultimateness of a battle between Komodo Dragon and Cobra, nothing can beat the fury of the original ultimate battle : Busey vs. Werewolf.

A few years back, the only thing I wanted for Christmas was a copy of Boa vs. Python. Who would win?!? Boa? Or Python?

I did not receive Boa vs. Python. Everyone thought I was joking. Now you know better.

Komodo vs. Cobra! The Ultimate Battle! Christmas 2007!

This review of Visiting Hours is a part of the second Final Girl Film Club. Check back for the third selection and join the gang.

I watched Visiting Hours with the lowest possible expectations, and it didn’t even meet those. This is perhaps the ultimate cocktease of a horror movie; a slasher film without any real urgency or suspense.

Deborah Ballin is a television reporter dedicated to advancing the rights of women to defend themselves against abusive partners, by any means necessary. Or she’s against violence in all forms. If the filmmakers themselves don’t know, I can’t see how I’m supposed to. A misogynist stalker by the name of Colt targets Deborah for her beliefs, along the way getting distracted by and killing anyone else he stumbles upon, including men. Again, if the filmmakers themselves don’t know… After surviving her first encounter with Colt, Deborah is sent to the hospital, where she insists her stalker will attempt to finish the job. Which he does. Three seperate times, between milkshake breaks. Apparently, Colt isn’t in any kind of a hurry.

The babysitter who watches over the nurse’s kids showers at her house, runs around in a towel, sleeps naked, and has a tendency to invade personal space. No explanation given, though I have a very vivid imagination.

The round-up of definicies in this film is too huge to allow me to go into any great detail. Overlong, poorly staged, an overabundance of fake scares, and with a divided emphasis on the killer and the victims that created interest in neither. Visiting Hours’ greatest crime, and easily my biggest disappointment, is the lack of vitamin Ironside. In the beginning of the film we hardly see his face, which is undeniably Ironside’s creepiest asset. But once they began showing him in full view, I realized that I was only half-right. Ironside also has one of the great screen villain voices, and with only a dozen lines of dialogue throughout the entire film the viewer is given only a fraction of what Ironside is capable of. It’s like inviting Mike to your bachelor party and forgetting to ask him for a lapdance. A complete waste of talent.

The one and only interesting aspect of Visiting Hours actually didn’t seem to be planned. Throughout the film, the protaganist is confined to her hospital bed despite her protestations. Her requests for a reason on why she isn’t allowed to leave are either ignored or greeted with vague excuses. At one point she asks the nurse, who is carting in some intesive care equipment, if the machine is to be used on her. The nurse skirts the question, delivering the non-answer “For you… or anyone else who needs it.” And when she finally insists on checking out of the hospital, sure that if she stays she will be killed by the maniac, the nurses immediately shoot her full of sedatives and strap her down for surgery.

You would think a movie which has both Michael Ironside in drag and the creepiest Canuxploitation phone call since Black Christmas would be all kinds of alright.

I may be giving the impression that the staff at the hospital are acting with sinister intent, but that isn’t the case at all, and isn’t even implied. We know from the start who the killer is and that he is working alone. The actions of the hospital staff (and in a less pronounced way, the police) are inconsequential to the story. What this does inadvertantly accomplish is the addition of that feeling of vunerability one gets in a hospital, where your life is in the hands of someone who could very well be completely incompetent. This is the case here, with well-meaning figures of authority fumbling with your safety at every turn.

And that’s what’s so frustrating about Visiting Hours. This idea of relinquishing control over our mortality to others seems to have sprung from the film without conscious thought, and if it had actually been considered and expanded upon it would have made even better use of the hospital setting. Instead we’re treated to a half-baked feminist theme that not only falters throughout but hardly made sense to begin with.

Also starring William Shatner and the guy who does the voiceovers for the Leon’s commercials. Oh Canada!

Stephen Spielberg and Michael Bay are looking for a few good fleshlings for various bit parts in the upcoming Transformers film. You only have four more days to get your submission in. It helps if you’re black, feisty and female. I’m voting Mike for the role of Bobby Bolivia.