(6/12/17 - 6/24/17) This week (plus) in:
Jun. 27th, 2017 11:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
disgruntled_owlStuff on Screens
The Beguiled (Siegel, 1971). In my continued pre-gaming for the Coppola remake, I watched this one. A wounded but lusty Union soldier recuperates in a Southern boarding school full of repressed girls and ladies, and things get out of hand. It’s as lurid as you’d expect a movie made in 1971 to be, but disappointing on a number of counts. The screenwriters promptly trade in the suspense for the sleaze, revealing a major piece of character backstory within the first several minutes. This reveal both neuters said character and eliminates the slow burn unfolding of that information, which made the book interesting to read. I came for the Southern Gothic atmosphere, which takes a distant backseat to softcore sex scenes and gauche visual metaphors. While the book shows both sexes struggling under the confined, upside-down circumstances the war has brought, this movie seems to be more sympathetic to Clint Eastwood’s injured soldier than most of the women, who either want to possess him or castrate him, regardless of their age or backstory.
Still, if you have three minutes, the trailer is hilarious. It’s a solid example of the “so bad it’s awesome” trailer formula: Authoritative Voice Man barks craziness over the most sordid or ‘splodey parts of the movie.
I’m still interested in seeing where Coppola will go in her version. So far I agree with those criticizing her for not including the black house slave character in her adaptation, which is a loss not in only terms of representation but also as a counterpoint to the privileges and restrictions the white women experience. But I’m holding out hope that she’ll bring back the mysterious environment and languid pace, and approach the story from a feminist direction.
Still, if you have three minutes, the trailer is hilarious. It’s a solid example of the “so bad it’s awesome” trailer formula: Authoritative Voice Man barks craziness over the most sordid or ‘splodey parts of the movie.
I’m still interested in seeing where Coppola will go in her version. So far I agree with those criticizing her for not including the black house slave character in her adaptation, which is a loss not in only terms of representation but also as a counterpoint to the privileges and restrictions the white women experience. But I’m holding out hope that she’ll bring back the mysterious environment and languid pace, and approach the story from a feminist direction.
Big Trouble in Little China (Carpenter, 1986). So, okay. I didn’t do my homework on this movie. I went on Netflix looking for 80s goofball craziness and landed on this one. At first watch, it makes negative sense. I never figured out who some of the characters were or what motivated them. Exposition is either shouted over gunfire or occasionally blurted out as though the characters were being given Heimlich maneuvers. With its underground booby-trapped labyrinth filled with Claymation and puppet monsters, it looks an awful lot like The Goonies for grownups.
Then there’s the pan-Asian-pop-culture candy coating poured over the whole thing. The 80s era breeziness with which the filmmakers distorted and toyed with various aspects of Asian cultures, purely for spectacle, inspired the same squick as Temple of Doom. I almost didn’t want to admit that I watched it. But the experience did send me digging through podcasts and articles to try to make sense of what I watched. Some commentators, including Roger Ebert, argue that the movie is a racist shitshow, unable to escape having a white guy (Kurt Russell) save the day. Others defend the film as trying to pay tribute to American and Hong Kong cinematic fantasy. Still others suggest that the movie may have done some things right; they point out the many roles for Asian and Asian-American actors in the movie and identify Kurt Russell’s Chinese friend (Dennis Dun) as a guy who holds his own against his white counterpart and saves his damsel in distress. That last idea reminded me of watching the musical Flower Drum Song (1961), which I loved as a kid. I watched it maybe seven or eight years ago, and stuff in it made me cringe. Then I watched the DVD extras, where the actors and dancers exclaimed, “Yeah, it was a huge deal when people of Asian descent were able to do choreography in a Hollywood movie.” To the degree that Big Trouble in Little China was similarly some kind of stepping stone, great, but in 2017 it’s hard to chalk its careless shenanigans up as fun. As the Yo, Is this Racist? podcast hosts advised a conflicted Chinese-American caller who loves the movie, "You gotta work on yourself if this is your main jam. Watch some fucking Ang Lee." Watching this movie made me hope that someone is writing character actor James Hong’s autobiography. That dude is 88 now, has been working for-fucking-ever, and probably has some pretty amazing stories about being an Asian-American actor in Hollywood over the decades. While I haven’t found any books yet, there is this interview, which I’m excited to watch.
Life Stuff
Last weekend I was in Geneseo, IL for my cousin-in-law’s wedding. The wedding was enjoyable, the bride lovely, and the events on either side--a firefly lit barn party and a small-town Father's Day parade--were quite fun. The parade was like drinking America from a fire hose: marching bands and tractors and beauty pageant winners and Trump and Jesus. While I had a good time, the heavy dose of religion I encountered throughout the weekend (wedding ceremony + fundamentalist Lutheran community) and the youthful innocence of the bride brought up some complicated, bittersweet thoughts and feelings. I found myself mourning my past as a religious teenager, when life often seemed more straightforward and I had fewer regrets (thought maybe that’s just because I was younger…). But I also reflected on the many reasons--intellectual and spiritual--why I’m not that person anymore.
This week I'm competing in the Grownup Field Games, including work wardrobe shopping and *gulp* dipping my toe into the waters of the metro Boston real estate market by meeting with a realtor. It’s all making me long for simple summers with nothing but my library's summer reading program to worry about. But I had a good time at Sunday's Fannish Brunch, which is a good reminder that you can be random and nerdy and fun no matter what age you are.
Projects
I’m taking a break from Hunchback to write a Rogue One Orson Krennic fic that came to mind in (relatively) whole cloth while reading James Luceno’s Catalyst Star Wars novel. I’m learning that “one does not simply write fic in the Star Wars Universe.” There is lore for fucking everything. For what it's worth, I am now very adept at writing about bug people.
Looking forward to…
July 4th weekend in Acadia National Park. Atomic Blonde (opening July 28). Charlize Theron AND John Goodman AND Toby Jones? Oh, my!
Then there’s the pan-Asian-pop-culture candy coating poured over the whole thing. The 80s era breeziness with which the filmmakers distorted and toyed with various aspects of Asian cultures, purely for spectacle, inspired the same squick as Temple of Doom. I almost didn’t want to admit that I watched it. But the experience did send me digging through podcasts and articles to try to make sense of what I watched. Some commentators, including Roger Ebert, argue that the movie is a racist shitshow, unable to escape having a white guy (Kurt Russell) save the day. Others defend the film as trying to pay tribute to American and Hong Kong cinematic fantasy. Still others suggest that the movie may have done some things right; they point out the many roles for Asian and Asian-American actors in the movie and identify Kurt Russell’s Chinese friend (Dennis Dun) as a guy who holds his own against his white counterpart and saves his damsel in distress. That last idea reminded me of watching the musical Flower Drum Song (1961), which I loved as a kid. I watched it maybe seven or eight years ago, and stuff in it made me cringe. Then I watched the DVD extras, where the actors and dancers exclaimed, “Yeah, it was a huge deal when people of Asian descent were able to do choreography in a Hollywood movie.” To the degree that Big Trouble in Little China was similarly some kind of stepping stone, great, but in 2017 it’s hard to chalk its careless shenanigans up as fun. As the Yo, Is this Racist? podcast hosts advised a conflicted Chinese-American caller who loves the movie, "You gotta work on yourself if this is your main jam. Watch some fucking Ang Lee." Watching this movie made me hope that someone is writing character actor James Hong’s autobiography. That dude is 88 now, has been working for-fucking-ever, and probably has some pretty amazing stories about being an Asian-American actor in Hollywood over the decades. While I haven’t found any books yet, there is this interview, which I’m excited to watch.
Life Stuff
Last weekend I was in Geneseo, IL for my cousin-in-law’s wedding. The wedding was enjoyable, the bride lovely, and the events on either side--a firefly lit barn party and a small-town Father's Day parade--were quite fun. The parade was like drinking America from a fire hose: marching bands and tractors and beauty pageant winners and Trump and Jesus. While I had a good time, the heavy dose of religion I encountered throughout the weekend (wedding ceremony + fundamentalist Lutheran community) and the youthful innocence of the bride brought up some complicated, bittersweet thoughts and feelings. I found myself mourning my past as a religious teenager, when life often seemed more straightforward and I had fewer regrets (thought maybe that’s just because I was younger…). But I also reflected on the many reasons--intellectual and spiritual--why I’m not that person anymore.
This week I'm competing in the Grownup Field Games, including work wardrobe shopping and *gulp* dipping my toe into the waters of the metro Boston real estate market by meeting with a realtor. It’s all making me long for simple summers with nothing but my library's summer reading program to worry about. But I had a good time at Sunday's Fannish Brunch, which is a good reminder that you can be random and nerdy and fun no matter what age you are.
Projects
I’m taking a break from Hunchback to write a Rogue One Orson Krennic fic that came to mind in (relatively) whole cloth while reading James Luceno’s Catalyst Star Wars novel. I’m learning that “one does not simply write fic in the Star Wars Universe.” There is lore for fucking everything. For what it's worth, I am now very adept at writing about bug people.
Looking forward to…
July 4th weekend in Acadia National Park. Atomic Blonde (opening July 28). Charlize Theron AND John Goodman AND Toby Jones? Oh, my!
