Odds and Ends: November 20, 2007

A brief interlude again…and I promise that I will regale you all with my favorite story from my childhood (The Broken Closet Door Incident). Since this is supposed to be a blog from a law student, I thought that a law school centered post might be in order. In 2 weeks, classes will be over and I will enter my final semester of law school. It is hard for me to believe that the end of the trip is almost here. I often joke with my (much) younger classmates that I have been an eternal student. I tell them that I can just pay off my students loans with the SS checks I will be collecting soon after graduation, that my next stop is business school for my MBA, that an LLM would not be a bad idea. The truth is that I have reached the end of my educational goals. The goal of law school was formulated when I was in my second year of graduate school. While I knew that I enjoyed the scientific aspects of what I was doing, I also realized that society is not kind to scientists with respect to lifestyles. The career scientists I knew were married to their bench tops, and the competition for research dollars was frightening. When I considered that few grants ever get funded, and the government’s allocations for science spending (already shrinking prior to the military actions and military occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq) would only be getting ever smaller, I started to look for another way.

I enjoy patent law. It provides me the opportunity to engage the science part of my mind while at the same time providing me with a more secure occupation. I have found a wonderful firm to work for. I enjoy the atmosphere, the mentorship, and the assignments that I receive. I cannot describe the elation that comes with FINALLY being able to do what I enjoy. Before law school, I had no idea that I would enjoy the work as much as I do. Now, I look forward to a lifetime of becoming a better patent attorney.

So what is ahead for me? Well, I am now looking for places to live after law school. My (VERY GENEROUS) older brother allowed me to live in a garden apartment in a building that he owns rent free while I was in school. I am looking for my first real home. Not an apartment, but my own space. I have the job that I want, so I know where I want to buy my home. While the collapse of the sub-prime market has not been kind to many people, it has opened the door to people like me who can now buy less expensively in a depressed market. I will also continue to clerk at my firm until I finish school. I only have 2 more classes to complete before the end.

Should I continue the blog after graduation? I will leave it up to you. Leave feedback! If I do not see feedback on this blog, I might just have to start another one under a different name.

Daisy and the Red Cups

Daisy is right.

Now, those of you who frequent Daisy’s blog may not always agree with that statement, but I must say that frequently, mixed in among the daily angst that is being Daisy, Daisy also offers a lot of insight into the basic fragility of the human psyche. To wit: Daisy’s fascination with the red cups.

Now, I am a scientist-turned-law student (soon to be lawyer). I try to always be on the side of reason and I try not to let myself be manipulated by such things as the commercialization of every single real and made up holiday. Christmas has always been different, and for this I blame by buddy Aaron. There is just something about Christmas that makes everyone cheerful even if the season consists of exams, a rapid last minute grab for presents for the loved ones, frantic trips to the airport, family in-fighting and the like. In spite of ALL of that, the season just seems to cheer people up.

This brings me back to Daisy. Daisy had enormous insight into the importance of the red cups. Now, at first, upon reading of Daisy’s obsession, I was much like Charlie Brown in the classic “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” I mean, what could represent a grosser example of Christmas commercialization than the idea that the color of the cups from a coffee colossus now signals the beginning of the holiday season? I chuckled when I read Daisy’s column (as I often do), but then I reflected a bit on her excitement over seeing the red cups. I am proud to say that I now understand and, like, Daisy, have been converted into believing in the value of the commercial Starbucks red cups.

It is not so much that I embrace the commerciality of it all, but it has more to do with finding joy in the smallest places. Daisy’s ability to find pockets of happiness from no more than the color of a coffee cup is a reminder that we should all be so quick to find joy in what is often a cold world. This morning I was on my way into the firm, and I noticed a person walking out of a Starbucks with a red cup. I felt a flush of happiness, and with my heart racing (literally..I know, weird..but I had a rush of happiness) I entered the Starbucks to find it decorated for Christmas, the menus converted to the Christmas offerings, and the workers joyfully going about their business. I immediately ordered a fat free egg nog latte (YES! Here until New Years!), and I was thrilled to see it delivered in a red cup. I do not know what it was, but EVERYONE in the Starbucks today seemed to have a little more joy in their step. Could it be that the red cup, signifying the advent of Christmas, was solely responsible for this infectious cloud of happiness on a chilly Chicago morning? I would like to think so. It was the perfect way to begin my day, and I think that it will be a great one because of it.

Thanks, Daisy. Your little post about your joy in finding red cups has made me believe that a little injection of commercialism into the Christmas spirit can supersede that commercialism and become something more in the hearts of those of us who want to find a little happiness where we can.

A New Movie Review: "Across the Universe"

I grew up in the time of the LP. LP means long playing record, and I feel that I must describe it as such for all of my classmates born in the 1980s (yikes!). My parents had their collection of LPs (Andy Williams, Wayne Newton, Glen Campbell, and various movie musical scores), and as my brother and I were growing up, we started to look for LPs of our own. At the home of one of our parents’ friends, we noted some really COOL LPs (Village People, Doobie Brothers, the “Saturday Night Fever” soundtrack (hey, it was the 1970s!), but the coolest of the LPs was a double LP with a red border that had, as the photo on the cover, a group shot of some young men. The album was “The Beatles: 1962-1966”-the eponymous “red album.” It served as my introduction to the Beatles. From “Love Me Do” to “Yellow Submarine,” the Beatles red album was instrumental in introducing me to the world of classic rock music by the #1 band of all time. I was able to make my own cassette recording of the red album, and my brother and I listened to it until we wore the tape out. When the tape wore out, my brother requested a copy of the red album for his very own. Now, to this day, I do not know if my parents knew what they were doing when they “messed up” and bought the “wrong album,” but that mistake was going to introduce me to the Beatles during their most imaginative and inventive years. They decided to buy “The Beatles: 1967-1970”-the “blue album”.

All these many years later, I can still remember my brother putting the album into the huge console stereo, and the sounds of “Strawberry Fields” emanating from the mono speakers. As a youngster I preferred the more upbeat or hi energy tunes, but I recognize now that I did not understand many of the songs’ lyrics. I loved “Penny Lane,” “With a Little Help From My Friends,” “Revolution,” “Something” (a little slow, but I LOVED the bridge), “Let it Be,” “Across the Universe,” and “Hey, Jude.” I still remember being confused by some of the lyrics of “I Am the Walrus” (Sitting on a cornflake? What is an eggman anyway?). I remember that each LP was packed in a sleeve that had the lyrics for each song printed in order. While I was confused by the lyrics, the MUSIC really moved me. The Beatles were constant during my adolescent years even though my formative years were marked by Madonna and Michael Jackson in the beginning, U2 in the middle, and Pearl Jam and Nirvana near the end). As I grew older, I read more about the Beatles and I came to understand some of the lyrical choices that they made. I was also amazed with the quantum leaps the Beatles seemed to make from their earliest albums through their later ones. I can only imagine the excitement with which the release of “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band” was greeted. I remember thinking it poignant when I found out that McCartney had written “Hey Jude” for Julian Lennon (originally called “Hey, Jules”).

Life went on, and my musical tastes varied, but the songs that I had listened to so many times had become ingrained in my mind. In retrospect, I suppose I did listen to the blue album many many (many) times during my formative years. The reason for this was that my brother’s and my LP collection at the time consisted entirely of 3 albums: the blue album, Kiss: Alive II, and Elvis Sings Hits From His Movies. I am not kidding. So my childhood was marked by constant listens to THOSE…THREE….ALBUMS. Thank God for the Beatles.

Since my childhood, there has not been a day where I just kicked back and listened to the Beatles. After my experience last Friday night, I am happy to report a change in my listening habits-a change that will now include daily doses of the Fab Four. In honor of her birthday, my dear friend and fellow blogger Jess and I went to see the new Julie Taymor musical film, “Across the Universe.” Jess is a HUGE music fan. As a matter of fact, she is to music as I am to movies (for all of you SAT fans who are missing the now defunct analogy section). I suppose the best way to describe the film is an amalgamation of “Moulin Rouge” (love story) with “Forrest Gump” (following characters during one of the most turbulent times in our nation’s history-the 60s). How could such a creation possibly be held together? The common glue turned out to be the music of the Beatles. However, this was not just a matter of the Beatles lending their songs to the production-this was a film where the characters sang the classic tunes, and the songs were woven into the tapestry of the story itself. I was into the film from the opening shot of the main character, a Liverpudlian named Jude, sitting on a beach singing. From the names of the characters (Jude, Lucy, Jojo, Prudence), I could kind of tell which songs were going to be used, but I did not know exactly when. Equally as fun was trying to guess WHICH of the songs from the Beatles rich musical catalog would be used. I heard many of my favorites as well as some songs that I had never heard before. One of the highlights of the film (for me) was a psychedelic rendition of “I Am the Walrus” by a character played by a famous pop star of today. No, I will not tell-for that would be spoiling, but wow..what a performance.

I am struggling with the review, because the Beatles songs were what made the movie, but part of the fun of a first viewing is not knowing WHICH songs will play and WHEN the songs will play. I can highlight the major plot as a love story between a wandering Liverpudlian shipworker and the daughter of a privileged American family during the 60s. The film, however, is much, much more. To be sure, there are weaknesses. Julie Taymor intersperses strange moments of “alternate reality” throughout the film, much like Baz Luhrmann did in Moulin Rouge with his “Green Fairy” sequence. Thankfully, these strange sequences are few and far between as they proved to detract from the central story. Taymor also succeeds by having the principle actors actually sing the songs in the actual scenes without any looping. I also appreciated the fact that the cast was not populated with well known actors who might have otherwise distracted from the story in an “Oh, look, Nicole Kidman is singing a Beatles song” kind of way.

In the end, I thoroughly enjoyed this film, and I cannot wait to see it again. Of course, this is coming from a casual Beatles fan. If you are not a Beatles fan, I would still encourage you to check this movie out. You might change your mind by the end.

The Adventure of Sam the Siamese Cat

So after a long respite, the tales of Artful and his older brother continue. The setting? 1980 or thereabouts (geez..I am really getting up there). The place? Our childhood home in Suffolk, Virginia. The Event? The Adventure of Sam the Siamese Cat.

Our childhood home was built somewhere in the 1950s. I remember it being rather dark (no skylights or anything) and being spread out in a ranch style way. Our house was situated at the end of a cul de sac. A large man-made pond was near the front of the house beyond our patio and front lawn. The back of the house was severely sloped, and the slope ended in the waters of Lake Meade, a large and meandering lake in Suffolk that was dammed off from the Nansemond River. Because of our location, our yard was a breeding ground for wild creatures. There were numerous birds nests, rabbit warrens, gopher holes, and beaver nests situated all around our yard. When we ventured out into the yard or in the neighboring areas, we had to be careful lest we step on a snake. Yes, we had lots of snakes on the property, and I am not just talking about the harmless ones. We were just as likely to run into a water moccasin or a copperhead (BAD snakes) as we were to run into a black snake or a garter snake (good snakes). In addition to the wildlife outside, the warmth of our attic made it an attractive gathering place for squirrels and mice (and the occasional snake, judging from some of the skins that we would find up there).

To combat the growing number of mice in the attic and the basement, my parents tried mouse traps galore, but none seemed to work. They then decided that the only way to defeat the pests was by getting a cat. Now, we had only had one other pet up until this point, Sandy the German Shepherd, who had long since departed the premises. My brother and I were excited over the prospect of getting another animal. We had been quite close to Sandy, and we were glad that our parents were lifting their edict against more pets. The day arrived for picking up the cat. We went to the local A.S.P.C.A. and looked over the offerings. Both my brother and I found cats that we really liked, ones who were friendly and liked us as well. Unfortunately, my parents had decided to get a Siamese cat that was also there.

Have you ever seen “Lady and the Tramp”? Unless you are a rich dowager, you should not get a Siamese cat. At least, that is my opinion.

For my brother and me, however, it did not matter. We were excited over the prospect of getting the cat (any cat). Sam the Siamese (my parents were not terribly creative with their naming of the cat) arrived at our home, and we did everything we could to make sure that the cat was welcome. We put out the cat toys, put him in the litter box to make sure that he knew where it was (in the utility/laundry/furnace room), and made sure that Sam would not irritate our parents in any way. There was one thing we found out, however, rather quickly. Sam was sick. Now, he was not sick in a “dying, poor thing” kind of way. He was sick in a “chronic diarrhea/vomiting” kind of way. It was intestinal, and he had a sensitive stomach. Back then, however, there was no Iams or Science Diet. There was just Purina Cat Chow. We could not adjust his diet to make him feel better, and my parents did not know he was sick. My brother and I thought that, if they knew, he would go away. We, therefore, did everything we could to cover it up. But we were kids..how could we cover it up? I mean, Sam was pooping and vomiting everywhere in the utility room. It was only a matter of time.

The answer came in the form of an old school canister vacuum cleaner. Back in the days before the Oreck XL and the Dyson, vacuums had POWER. They could do anything. You still had to periodically clean out the canister, but otherwise, they could clean anything. We had 2 vacuums in the house: a newer Electrolux that was my Mom’s pride and joy and an older one that was kept-you guessed it-in the utility room.

Yup, my brother and I vacuumed up all evidence of Sam’s intestinal problems. Every…single….TIME….for a week.

Eventually, however, my parents realized that Sam was sick. I think that my brother and I, worried for the health of the poor cat, finally told my parents. My parents were upset that the ASPCA would send a sick cat home to 2 children, so they immediately (over the protestations of my brother and me) took Sam back. Sam was never to return.

Is this the end of the story? No, there is a little postscript. A few months later, our family was doing some spring cleaning. Mom had her Electrolux vrooming in the bedroom areas, so Dad decided to help out with the vacuuming in the common areas by using the older canister vacuum in the utility room..the one that had not been used since my brother and I had vacuumed away the evidence of Sam’s sickness. My brother and I watched silently as Dad wheeled it out, and we both breathed sighs of relief when it started working with no problems. Dad vacuumed for a while before the suction started to give out in the vacuum. Dad muttered something under his breath, and my brother (as smooth as can be) asked “Dad, what is wrong with the vacuum?” Dad responded that this old one would get clogged with dust regularly, and this was the reason why they had purchased the Electrolux and then….

My brother and I watched in silent horror as Dad proceeded to unscrew the housing cover for the canister, dip his hand into the capture area, and clean out the area. Did my brother an I say anything?

What do you think?

Did Dad figure it out? Let’s just say that my brother and I learned a lot about the masking qualities of vast amounts of dust and particulate matter.

You may commence with the dry heaving….now.

Childhood Story #1: The Great Sockball Incident

My brother and I were extremely close growing up, and we remain so to this day. Our close relationship could be attributed to a myriad of factors, but the most important factor would probably be the absence of extended family during our childhood. The families of our friends always seemed to have a congregation of grandparents, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandkids, second cousins, third cousins (now, what the heck IS a third cousin, anyway), etc. visiting, and to this day, my parents bemoan the fact that my brother and I were denied that particular experience. As I already mentioned, however, the result of this was the close bond that was forged between my brother and me. Please do not misunderstand-things were not always smooth sailing between us, but in any relationship, there are bound to be ups and downs. I always knew, and I still know, that my brother has my back when the chips are down, and that kind of knowledge is EXTREMELY reassuring in an uncertain world.

I have promised to share with you all some of our (mis)adventures from our childhood, and today’s story will be the Great Sockball Incident. I wish that I could remember our exact ages at the time, but let’s just say that I was 8 and my brother was 12. Until my brother left for college, we shared a bedroom. The bedroom was painted a bright powder blue with matching light blue shag carpet (ahh the 70s). When you entered the bedroom, you were on my side of the room. The right and left wall each had large windows, and our twin beds were in the middle of the room. There was a nightstand in between the 2 beds where our solitary alarm clock sat. My job was to set the alarm and wake my brother (truly ironic since now, as a physician, my brother is programmed to wake up in the odd hours of the morning). There was a significant amount of space between the 2 beds, and this factor resulted in a game that had tragic (and comedic) consequences for all parties involved in the mayhem that I will now recount.

My brother and I had our chores, one of which was folding our laundry. This meant that I folded the laundry because I was the younger brother (you younger siblings know EXACTLY what I am talking about), but my brother was cool in that he kept me company while I worked. My brother is also great at coming up with fun ideas. Only now do I realize that these ideas usually ended up with the two of us in hot water, but at the TIME they were fun! On this particular day, I was folding socks. For some reason, we always ended up with loads of single socks, but instead of tossing the socks away, we would put them back in the laundry pile and wash them again. Maybe we were expecting the lost sock to magically reappear and join its mate in the laundry, but whatever the case, it never made any sense. My brother looked at the pile of single socks (a significant pile of multi-colored socks), and decided that we should just combine all of them into a single large sock ball. That made sense to me, as I was sick of dealing with them every time I folded laundry, and my brother’s idea would get them out of the way once and for all. We started to sift through the laundry pile to find the single socks, and as we discovered them, we would add them to the sock ball. By the end of our task, the sock ball was of a significant size and weight. My brother remarked that it was almost as large as a volleyball. At that comment, 2 identical lightbulbs exploded in each of our heads, and we decided that it was PERFECT for volleyball. The only problem was that we had no net, we were inside, and we were to remain inside per Mom’s orders. What to do?

My brother came up with the ingenious plan of indoor volleyball. Remember that space between the beds that I talked about? Well, that space became the “net” and the floor near the opposite windows became the opposing sides. My brother and I started a rousing game of indoor sock volleyball. We were tossing it back and forth, leaping and diving to make saves, and generally having a great time. We would alternate serves, but we were not worried about breaking anything. I mean, it was a sockball, right? Soft, malleable, and harmless!

Wrong.

After one of my brother’s serves, I tried to hit it back and I couldn’t. The next thing I heard was the sound of shattering glass behind me. I did not look behind me but at the horrified expression on my brother’s face. He said nothing. I kept calling his name. He remained silent and pointed at the window behind my head. I turned around and saw a GAPING HOLE in the middle of the window, with jagged cracks radiating out from the hole in all directions.

Thought #1: A SOCKBALL did that? COOOOOOL!

Thought #2: OH CRAP! WE ARE SOOOOOO DEAD.

There was no way to hide our problem. All of the windows were tied into the burglar alarm that would be activated in the evening, so my parents had to be notified. We slowly went to Mom and told her that we needed her. She entered the bedroom and immediately saw the broken window. Her Mom instincts click in, and she immediately was concerned that my brother and I were hurt by broken glass. Once she realized that we were unharmed, however…umm…..

[as I maintain a reader friendly blogsite, I will (to paraphrase Sam Clemens) draw the curtain of charity upon my mother’s rage]

When the yelling stopped. my Mom asked my brother and I how it happened.

My brother: “We were playing volleyball with a ball made out of single socks and it went through the window.”

My mother: Silent. The corners of her mouth were twitching, but she maintained the “Mom glare.” She asked my brother to repeat what he said.

My brother: “We were playing volleyball with a ball made out of single socks, and it went through the window.”

My Mom (the corners of her mouth still twitching): “Tell the truth and you will not be punished as much.”

I asked to be excused and then quickly ran outside to retrieve the sock ball. My parents always held my brother responsible for any such mishaps (this is the BENEFIT of being the younger sibling), and my Mom proceeded to read my brother the riot act about lying. I then returned to the bedroom, sockball in hand, and wordlessly handed it to Mom. She took one look at it, turned around, and walked (sockball in hand) out of the bedroom and into my parents bedroom. She then closed the door. My brother and I were terrified. WE WERE SOOOO DEAD. WHAT WOULD DAD SAY?

My Mom stayed in their room until my Dad got home. We heard him enter the house and go to the room to change as usual. We then heard my parents in urgent conversation, with words such as “window” and “socks” being thrown around. We held our collective breath. What would Dad do to us? What would Mom do to us?

To this day, I can still remember the peals of laughter from both of my parents that emanated from their bedroom door.

The Bourne Ultimatum: My Choice as the Best Studio Film of the Summer

In 2002, the spy genre was in dire straits. After the Cold War, it seemed as if Hollywood had given up on crafting intelligent stories with smart action and engaging characters. The James Bond films, the films that had set the standard in the 60s and started the whole “spy craze,” had become a sad caricature of itself, with “Die Another Day”, the 2002 spy installment, featuring an invisible car. The summer movie season looked grim as well, as there were relatively few big budget films that appeared to have the requisite level of story crafting and special effects to challenge an audience. Of course, this was the summer of “Spider-Man,” “Star Wars: Attack of the Clones,” “Signs,” “The Sum of All Fears,” “Austin Powers in Goldmember”, and “Men in Black II.” Amid the chaos, however, Universal Pictures quietly released a little film based on a best selling novel first published in the 1980s. The film had had troubles on the set, and there were doubts as to whether Doug Liman, the director, could really handle a big budget action film. Matt Damon, the star, was more known for more personal and intimate films. Could he really pull off an action film?

“The Bourne Identity” changed the rules for spy films and for Hollywood’s habit of treating the movie going audience with such derision. With John Powell’s music setting the scene, we witnessed a body floating on the water in the middle of a thunderstorm at sea. This was our introduction to the cinematic incarnation of Jason Bourne. Over the next 2 hours, we were thrust into the world of Jason Bourne, and as Bourne found clues, so did the audience. Although Bourne was a bit of a superhero in that he survived many incredible scrapes, this superhero was worse for the wear. Beaten, bloodied and bruised, the audiences final shot of Bourne (before his happy Greek reunion with Marie) was limping down the street as the last of the Treadstone assassins dealt with the treacherous Conklin (Chris Cooper) at the behest of Conklin’s superior, Abbott (Brian Cox). By itself, the film was a fine stand alone movie and a worthy addition to the collective works of the spy film genre. This was the thinking-person’s action film, one that begged for repeated viewings. The audiences agreed, and “The Bourne Identity” became one of the surprise hits of the summer.

The success of the first film led to a sequel, directed by Paul Greengrass. Thankfully, screenwriter Tony Gilroy was back to continue the story of Jason Bourne and Marie. In expanding the backstory of Treadstone and the not-so-pure motives of Abbott’s operations with the CIA, Gilroy again created a taut thriller that was a worthy follow-up to its predecessor. Although Paul Greengrass was an able enough director, his choice to use handheld cameras for most scenes was not very well thought out, especially for a film that, to a large extent, depends upon an audience’s appreciation of a sense of place. Where the audience would have loved to see what a high-speed chase through the streets of Moscow looked like, the director instead treated the audience to flashing images of Bourne shifting gears and close ups of his face. Granted, such shots did establish the immediacy of his sense of peril, but they left a lot to be desired with respect to establishing that all important sense of place. I mean, why bother with the expense of mounting a chase scene in Berlin or Moscow when the audience will not be treated to shots of those cities? The overall effect of “The Bourne Supremacy” was that it made the viewer a little motion sick, but because Tony Gilroy’s script was so tight and wonderfully constructed, the shortcomings of Greengrass’s technique were overcome. Damon again delivered a tour-de-force performance as Bourne, and the film was a worthy sequel.

Now it was time for a new film, one that Damon promised would be the last of the series. This film would answer all of the lingering questions from the first 2 films, but it would involve the same team. A lot had changed since the first Bourne film was released. The studios had finally caught on that the summer audiences would go out in droves to see smart thrillers. James Bond received a new lease on life with the release of “Casino Royale.” “Batman Begins” rebooted a moribund franchise and did not even show the Dark Knight until almost half of the film was done. Would Bourne still be able to meet the standards set by the first 2 films?

I saw “The Bourne Ultimatum” today, and with the opening strains of John Powell’s music playing over the Universal symbol at the beginning of the film, I was immediately thrust back into the world of Jason Bourne. Gilroy’s script did a wonderful job establishing a sense of time, as 3 years have elapsed since Bourne fell victim to amnesia and Wambosi’s bullets in his back. We see Bourne running in Moscow in the aftermath of the tunnel chase from the previous film and then see a reporter who has been piecing together the story of Bourne. From their, Bourne meets the reporter, and Bourne begins to piece together the missing fragments of his memory. Gilroy continues to amaze with his latest script. Having already written 2 screenplays where much of the action is set in dark computer rooms with official-looking people yelling orders at one another, Gilroy kept the premise fresh by injecting dissension in the ranks as Landy starts to question whether the Agency deserves her loyalty. In a wonderful bit of ret-conning, the final coda from the last film was rewritten as happening in real time with the current film. The attention to detail is what is remarkable. I must also note that, just prior to watching "The "Bourne Ultimatum", I revisited "The Bourne Identity" on HD-DVD. At the end of the first film, where Abbott is in front of the finance committee, he dismisses Treadstone as a game program that failed. However, his next project (and the one that the audience hears him explain as the scene dissolves into the coast of Greece for the finale) was a project called Blackbriar. Gilroy really brought everything full circle, as we learned in this film that Blackbriar was the replacement program for Treadstone. What could have been a throwaway scene from the first film was of some import to the running backstory of the films and rewards viewers who have an an attention to detail!

With regard to "The Bourne Supremacy's" major weakness, Greengrass fixed the shortcomings of the camera work in that film; now, even though some of the fight scenes are still a bit disorienting, there is definitely a sense of place during the numerous chase scenes in the film, including a particularly thrilling nailbiter involving Nicky (Julia Stiles), an assassin, and Bourne through the rooftops and streets of Tangier. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I was most impressed with how Gilroy revealed Bourne’s history.

When “The Bourne Identity” came out, I remember thinking that it was the best film of that summer. Granted, this summer, I have not had the chance to see some of the smaller independent films in theaters, but I have watched all of the big blockbusters (“Spider-Man 3,” “Shrek the Third,” “Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End,” “Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer,” “Ocean’s 13,” “Live Free or Die Hard,” “Ratatouille,” “Transformers,” “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” and “The Simpsons Movie”). There were quite a few enjoyable films in that bunch, but once again, Bourne must come out on top. This was the best film of the summer (in my opinion). I can’t wait to see it again.

The Simpsons Movie...was it any good?

“The Simpsons” are an American icon, but much has been made about the perceived decrease in the show’s quality over the last 18(!) years. I suppose this is normal. Most people have a perception of “the good old days” in some way, shape or form. I myself always bemoan the lack of quality music when compared to the variety that made up the musical tapestry that was the 1980s. “The Simpsons,” in spanning 3 decades of poking fun at anyone and everyone, has at times struggled to stay relevant, but in my opinion, the hits far outnumber the misses. My friend Aaron and I agree that, where an episode focuses on Bart, Homer, or Burns, the episodes usually succeed. The weakest episodes are usually Lisa-centric, and I think that the preachy Lisa episodes are the ones that most easily come to mind when one identifies weak Simpson episodes. I, however, have always been a fan. “The Simpsons” debuted during my first year in college. Every Sunday evening, my fellow dorm denizens and I would hunker down in front of the lone TV on the premises (hard to believe that most dorm rooms did not come with TVs back then) to watch “The Simpsons.” At the time, Homer’s character was not even close to being fully realized, and Bart was the real star of the show. Thankfully, the show grew beyond Bart and found its niche poking fun at all of pop culture with a rich cast of characters. Back then, Moe, Barney, Bumblebeeman, Duffman, Burns, Smithers, Carl, Lenny, Krusty, and Grandpa were simply background characters who were there for the sole purpose of being sounding boards for the various Simpson family members. This, however, served the show well because we knew so little about the family itself. Over time, the characters became more fully fleshed out, and the writers looked beyond the family for story inspiration. As the stories focused more on external characters, the supporting cast started to look a lot more interesting than the stars of the show. Of course, Homer could always be looked to for comic relief, and Bart still had his moments, but for the most part, the denizens of Springfield were often more interesting.

I think that “The Simpsons Movie” admirably rectifies that situation and reminds the audience why it is that Marge stays married to Homer. The writers brought it back to basics by having a simple story of Homer royally screwing something up and the family being forced to flee Springfield. During their flight, they uncover a nastier plot (with clues from Tom Hanks, of all people) that threatens all of Springfield, and it is up to the Simpsons to save the day. That, in a nutshell, is the plot. What is missing is the multitude of jokes and clever humor that had the auditorium where I saw the movie in stitches. One watches “The Simpsons” for the clever jokes and comments and the visual gags. The “sketchiness” of the stories works to the writers’ advantage in that it allows them to cram in as many jokes and references as they possibly can. I laughed loudly and I laughed often while watching this film. It was well worth the 18 year wait, and I hope that the writers have another one in them.

The Order of the Phoenix

During the spring of 2000, I emerged from the haze that was my dissertation to find that there was a hubbub surrounding a series of books about someone named Harry Potter. As I was always seeking things to read, I perused the first few pages of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” at my local Barnes and Noble. I was hooked. That evening, I ordered the 3 available books in the series from Amazon, but only the first book and the third book arrived. At the time, I was living with my buddy Aaron and his wife Julie in Baltimore. I left the books on the kitchen table, figuring that the second book would arrive soon enough and then I could read all three in order. The next day, Aaron exclaimed how he started flipping through the first book the night before and ended up reading both book 1 and book 3 because they were so entertaining. He started after me to let him read book 2 as soon as I got it, but in my infinite cruelty, I made him wait until I had read the first 2 (but it was not a long wait, as I, like Aaron, am a fast reader). With that experience behind me, I became a huge Harry Potter fan. I did not care that the books were touted as “children’s literature.” They were fun to read and intricate in their references that wove tapestries between and among the books in the series. I remember Hagrid delivering Harry to the Dursleys the first night, claiming that he borrowed young Sirius Black’s motorcycle for the task. I did not know at the time that Black would play such an important role (more fully explained in “Azkaban”). I loved the series, and I pre-ordered “Goblet of Fire,” staying up all night to read it. The first of the films was released in the fall of 2001, and I was amazed at how the magic and the places in the book had been so wonderfully translated to fit the large screen. Of course, there were some problems with the earlier films. Chris Columbus is a cookie cutter director, one who is better at coloring in the canvas rather than creating a sketch from scratch. It was not until the cinematic adaptation of “Azkaban” that the Potter film series really took flight. With each successive film, the directors have been more and more willing to discard the less vital elements of each story in a manner that still allows for some of these things to have been going on in the background but just not on screen. The success of the films has really peaked with the latest film in the series, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”

Having watched “Azkaban” at the IMAX theater 3 years ago upon its release, I was already excited over the fact that this newest film would similarly be released in the IMAX format. When word was leaked that the last 20 minutes of the film (with story that entailed the exciting climax) was to be in IMAX 3-D, I knew that seeing the film in IMAX (or experiencing it, as it were) was a must. I organized a viewing party of 16 people and purchased tickets the day that they were released-3 weeks before the film came out! The nice thing about Navy Pier’s IMAX theater is that all seating is reserved. I was careful to choose excellent seats at the time of purchase (middle of the rows, but not too close to the screen) for the viewing party. Including in the party were Daisy, Jeff, Kate, Mike, Elese and more than a few other friends. The film began without any previews or warning of any sort, and the audience was at once in the world of Harry Potter. We follow Harry, alone in his thoughts, as he is interrupted by Dudley and his band of bullies. The Dementor attack soon follows, and we are whisked away to Sirius Black’s home in a thrilling broomstick ride through London at night. This is what IMAX was made for! Writer Michael Goldenberg and director David Yeates wisely streamlined the story to maintain the focus on Harry and his efforts to train his friends and companions in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. The result is a tight film that is the shortest of the films, all the more remarkable when one realizes that the book was the longest of all the Potter films. The three principle actors, Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson, have really grown into their roles. I, for one, envision these actors as I read the Potter books. More importantly, the interaction among the three seems less forced and more natural, as if the audience is looking in on a gathering of real friends rather than watching actors falter through some forced humor. A key example of this is the Gryffindor common room sequence where Harry, Ron, and Hermione have gathered in front of the fireplace as Harry recounts his first kiss. The audience is treated to a wonderful scene of friendship, complete with gentle ribbing and laughing.

What else worked in the film? The following scenes illustrate why this film was able to supersede the wonders of the magical world with some well directed character moments: 1) the arrival of the kids at Hogwarts and Ginny’s expression upon seeing Harry’s interest in Cho, 2) scenes where Harry is angry at Ron and Hermione for not understanding his pain over what he has endured and Ron and Hermione’s angst at not being able to understand, 3) Harry’s scene with Luna where she explains that Voldemort would most likely want Harry to be separated from his friends as it would make Harry an easier target, 4) the quick flashback to Snape’s time as a student and as an object of ridicule at the hands of James Potter, 5) Neville’s recounting to Harry of the death of his parents and Harry’s words of comfort, 6) Fred and George comforting a young member of the DA crying from Umbridge’s tortuous punishment, 7) changes to the betrayal of the DA by one of their own, 8) Trelawney’s firing and Dumbledore’s response, 9) the final battle sequence, including Harry and Sirius fighting side-by-side and the showdown between Dumbledore and Voldemort. There were very few ill-conceived moments in the film. I suppose the only weakness might have been the shoddy CGI of Grawp (Hagrid’s brother), but the stunningly rendered centaurs more than made up for it. I was also struck with the busy-ness of the battle in the Hall of Mysteries, as the audience is witnessing a full on battle among good and evil wizards and witches.

In the end, the film surprised me because I usually find film adaptations of literary works to be incomplete at best and incomprehensible translations at worst. This film, however, transcends the normal shortcomings of cinematic adaptations, and this transcendence resulted in my failure to realize what, exactly, was missing. In the end, I decided that nothing was missing. This was the perfect film to whet my appetite for the final Potter novel, and I am pleased that Yeates will be back to direct the next film in the series.

Suresh’s rating: Wonderfully Entertaining and the best of the Potter films

The Return of John McClane...and Not a Moment Too Soon!

The 1980s were an interesting time for action films. The feel-good artificial superiority of the American way of life espoused by Reagan’s America was best reflected at the time by the action heroes on the big screen. I remember the 80s as being the time of Rocky and Rambo, of looking at the screen and seeing grotesque (maybe not to Daisy, who was crawling at this time, but definitely grotesque to me) images of Governor Schwarzenegger (then an up-and-coming action star) as he wreaked mayhem on bad guys with films such as “Commando,” “Raw Deal”, and “Red Heat.” The steroided denizens of the action movie universe almost made one feel sorry for the villains…almost. Most of the villains in these single note action extravaganzas could barely understand their own machinations, much less be a proper foil for the action star of the day. Furthermore, as a young, impressionable male of the era, I knew that I could never hope to emulate these steroid poster boys in any way, shape or form. The stories were interchangeable, the action was over the top, the villains were laughable, and the dialogue (if you could call it that) was utterly forgettable. This was the status of the action film circa 1988. This was before John McClane.

John McClane was everyman. He was balding, did not have a chiseled physique, did not have a happy marriage, and was cynical in every way. McClane was someone that everyone could relate to. We all knew guys like McClane…at least on the outside. The difference between McClane and other guys rested with the intangibles. As a man perennially caught in the wrong place at the wrong time with the odds stacked hopelessly against him, what chance did McClane have armed with a single automatic pistol and his spirit? The answer, it turned out, was more than the better armed and prepared villains. “Die Hard” exploded (I know…a clichéd phrase, but apropos) onto screens and into the cultural zeitgeist on July 15, 1988 (wow, has it really been almost 20 years?). The film has excellent pacing. We meet officer McClane as he is flying to California to meet up with his estranged wife and children. He figures that he will meet his wife at her place of work (the Nakatomi skyscraper) and the two of them may or may not be able to reconcile. While there, Officer McClane falls into the middle of a heist masterminded by Hans Gruber (portrayed in a tour de force performance by Alan Rickman). I liken everything up until the take over to a roller coaster being pulled up the first giant hill. Once Gruber’s minions seize control of the building, the audience is hurtled over the top into a wild ride where what we have learned in Action Films 101 does not matter. We see McClane gradually get beaten and bloody throughout the film, but he never quits. He is the only one who is trying to stop the bad guys, and his sole motivation is to save his wife. There are several memorable (even classic) scenes in this film: 1) the explosion that takes out an entire floor of the skyscraper, 2) the banter between Al (Reginald VelJohnson (better known as Carl from “Family Matters”)) and McClane, 3) ANY of Gruber’s dialogue in the film, 4) the helicopter/rooftop action sequence- “Oh God, please don’t let me die”, 4) the final showdown between Karl (Alexander Godunov) and McClane, 6) “shoot the glass”, 7) “Yipee-ki-yay, M-F’er”, and 8) the fate of Hans Gruber.

Sadly, this film was followed by the immediately forgettable “Die Hard 2.” The third film in the series, “Die Hard With a Vengeance,” was released in 1995 and worked as an action film. There was no motivation, however, for John McClane doing what he was doing. There was a loose connection with the villain (Jeremy Irons) and Hans Gruber, but the motivation for John McClane was not the same as it was in earlier films. The writers, however, crafted a film where McClane was merely a guy doing the things he does because no one else can. Quite wisely, they kept his family out of this and made John a failure in life. John’s character is one that rises to the occasion in times of great threats, but he cannot cope with the mundaneness of a normal life. With repeated viewings, I grew to enjoy this film as a good film in its own right.

Now we reach 2007. The action film landscape has changed considerably. With the advent of CGI and the decline in actual live stunts, the movie going audience is much more sophisticated when it comes to the action films that they enjoy. If you do not believe me, try sitting through a mid-80s action film now. The films are just not watchable (save for “Die Hard”) on any meaningful level. In an effort to recapture some of the taste of the 80s, Stallone and Willis have both returned to the scenes of their greatest successes. Stallone was first with his release of “Rocky Balboa,” a fitting bookend to the “Rocky” saga. Stallone is currently working on the similarly titled “John Rambo,” starring the granddaddy (literally at this point) of 80s action stars. It seemed only fitting that Bruce Willis would resurrect John McClane, and thankfully, he made sure that audiences would recognize the character when he agreed to star in “Live Free or Die Hard.” In this film, McClane is older. His daughter Lucy (seen briefly as a child in the original “Die Hard,” hates her father so much that she goes by her mother’s surname. John is still a loner when he is called on to do something that should be quite ordinary-escort a “person of interest” to FBI headquarters in Washington DC over the Fourth of July. Instead, John is drawn into the center of a master criminal’s plan to cripple the US infrastructure through the shutdown of the computer networks while the criminal attempts to upload files from a secure location in Maryland. McClane is “an analog guy in a digital world,” but as he soon shows, in a battle between a sledgehammer and a computer, the sledgehammer will usually win. This film, like “Transformers” before it, is definitely a “check your brain at the door” action film, but it succeeds in its mission to entertain. It was refreshing to see classic action filmmaking even in the midst of a few instances of CGI in the film. Favorite moments from this film included (for me) sequences in one of the DC tunnels, the action sequence at the power grid location in West Virginia, and the final desperate action sequence featuring McClane against a fighter jet and thousands of tons of falling highway. The villain was not especially strong, but as no one could top Alan Rickman’s Hans Gruber from the first one, I could forgive this. John’s personal stake in this film was the safety of his daughter; therefore, it was easy to understand why he did not choose to walk away from it when he did not have to go after the bad guys. Even without the bad guys, however, McClane does a great job of explaining why he still tries-because no one else will do it.

The film is, of course, filled with ludicrous stunts and lots of dead bad guys, but gone are the horrible puns associated with the action genre of the 1980s. In the 2000s, death is not something to make light of, and the fact that the audience did not respond negatively to a fake shot of the U.S. Capitol blowing up told me that we have healed a bit since 9/11. The patriotism from the film came not from a partisan stance on either side but from McClane himself. The script is not the best in the series, but the action stunts and Bruce Willis’s now-iconic portrayal of the true “last action hero” allowed the film to rise above mediocrity into a level higher than that of most of this summer’s films.

Check your brain at the door and spend some time with John McClane. Welcome back, old friend.

Artful's scale: better than Die Hard 2, but not as good as Die Hard or Die Hard With a Vengeance.

Ratatouille...almost great

Computer animation is all the rage now. It has almost succeeded in completely supplanting traditional hand-drawn animation to the point where even everyday cartoons are done by computers. This is not to say that the writing was on the wall early on in the evolution of computer animation. When “Tron” was released in 1982, it represented a quantum leap forward in animation technique in a film that was ahead of its time. For those of you unfamiliar with the film, I suggest that you check it out. Disney was not the only one experimenting with computerized film making. Universal Studios and Lorimar film entertainment exclusively utilized Cray supercomputers to generate the special effects for the 1984 film “The Last Starfighter.” The marriage of computer effects and cinematic special effects to this point, however, were merged with the video game subculture, as both of the aforementioned films dealt heavily with videogames as something other than side diversions. It would not be until Disney’s animation renaissance with “The Little Mermaid” in 1989 that the power of computers for animation would fully be appreciated. Although much of “The Little Mermaid” was of the traditional, hand drawn variety, some of the key action-intensive sequences, such as the final battle with Ursula, utilized the Pixar program developed at Disney and in collaboration with Lucasfilm. Computers were also at play in “Beauty and the Beast” during the show-stopping romantic climax where Belle and the Beast dance below a beautifully (computer) animated chandelier while Angela Lansbury sang the title song. Note that if you ever see a purported animation “cel” of this sequence, it is most likely a fake. Unlike traditional animation, there are no cels in computer animation. A cel is a clear plastic piece of cellulose upon which animators would draw their photos. Some of the classic cels are worth many thousands of dollars. Be careful….

But I digress. During the animation renaissance at Disney, Eisner had an opportunity to purchase the Pixar program from Lucas, but he did not. Instead, John Lasseter (then a Disney animator) left when the program was purchased by Steve Jobs, and the Pixar Studio was formed. For the rest of the 1990s, Disney ruled animation, with the zenith of the format’s popularity present in 1994’s “The Lion King.” Sadly, shortly thereafter, Animation Head Jeffrey Katzenberg left the studio, and Disney’s animation fortune rapidly deteriorated into films of diminished returns, including “Pocahontas,” “Hercules”, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” “Atlantis”, and “Treasure Planet.” Of course, there were a few hits among the misses (“Mulan,” “Lilo and Stitch,” “Tarzan,” and one of my favorites, “The Emperor’s New Groove”), but for the most part, Disney animation had reached a nadir. “Home on the Range” was the last nail in the coffin.

Meanwhile, Pixar patiently developed their technology. The animation became more and more three dimensional, and the animators worked on perfecting nuances that were not easily accomplished using traditional hand drawn techniques. It was during the early 1990s that Lasseter started work on “Toy Story,” the film that changed all of the rules. The story became the thing, however. Usually, a typical Disney animated film seemed to rise or fall on the number of stuffed animals it was able to sell or the number of hit songs on the Broadway-like soundtracks. With “Toy Story,” however, Pixar crafted a film that succeeded on multiple levels. No more were characters relegated to parts in animated Broadway musicals. The story was the thing. The animation, as beautiful as it was, was in service to the story versus the other way around. Pixar immediately followed up its success with “A Bug’s Life,” “Toy Story 2”, “Monsters, Inc.”, “Finding Nemo”, “The Incredibles”, and “Cars.” Pixar has never experienced a flop, and this is with good reason. They always have great stories.

The creative teams at Pixar really know how to make films. Brad Bird is no exception. One of my favorite films (animated or otherwise) is “The Iron Giant.” It is a traditional animated film based upon a children’s book that is far and away better than anything Disney has put out in the last 15 years. Warner Brothers, the releasing studio at the time, could not figure out how to sell the film, and they ended up dumping it into theaters at the end of August the year of its release. It is truly an amazing film and I heartily recommend this hidden treasure. The director on this amazing film? Brad Bird. Although the film tanked at the box office, the powers-that-be at Pixar knew that the director shared the same sort of vision as they: creating the perfect story and then using animation as the medium. They handed the reins to Brad Bird to create a Pixar film, and Bird succeeded beyond all expectations with “The Incredibles.” The marriage of 60s spy noir with the superhero films of today was a worldwide success, but the success of the film, once again, rose and fell on the dialogue, the relationships, and the storyline. “The Incredibles” is one of my favorite films because it transcends the standard superhero fare. My favorite part of the film is not one of the numerous (albeit amazing) action set pieces; it is the moment near the end when Mr. Incredible tells Helen that he can’t go through the thought of losing his family again. Great stuff.

Why was there this long lead up? Well, I was bringing everyone up to speed to the point of the release of the newest Brad Bird-Pixar collaboration. I have a feeling that Pixar gave Bird even more creative control over this film (for better or for worse), and I have read the usual laudatory praises concerning this latest “Pixar masterpiece.” “Ratatouille” imagines the story of a Food Network devotee who happens to be a rat in Paris. No, that actually is not the story, but I daresay that my fellow devotees of the Food Network will appreciate the film a lot more than those individuals who are not self-described “foodies.” Remy the Rat (kinda like Mickey the Mouse, huh?) is the underappreciated member of his rat’s nest (if that sounds disgusting, let this be fair warning that there are a lot of “yuck, rats!” moments in the film). He finds his way to Paris and becomes the savior of the restaurant and heir left behind by his idol Gasteau, the author of the tome “Anyone Can Cook.”

What works about the film? The animation is incredible. As most of you know, I was a scientist in a previous life. I have observed actual live rats, and the animation on these cinematic versions is astonishing. There is a wonderful scene (in the trailers, actually) where Remy is trapped in a bottle, and the animation is detailed enough that one can see his heart rapidly beating beneath his fur just as one would see the same thing in a live rat. The story really resonated with me, and I admired how Bird made Remy and his human friend Linguini both have foibles that tested the bounds of their friendship. The dialogue was wonderful, and the development of the characters was also perfect.

What did not work for me? Well, as much as I love Brad Bird and as much as I love Pixar, this film has the weakest ending of all of the Pixar films to date. Earlier in this entry, I mentioned how Pixar appeared to have given Bird more creative freedom to do what he wanted, but I think that this was a bad thing. The ending of the film is a muddled mess, with dropped plot points, a sudden switch to first person narration after a sparing use earlier, and a framing device that had one end of a bookend but not the other. SPOILER ALERT: I was most troubled by the fact that the audience never received closure concerning the fate of the head chef who was trying to steal Linguini’s birthright. I mean, this was a major character in the film, yet it seemed that Bird did not know how to address his fate. The appearance of the health inspector was also superfluous. When the “bad guy” reported Gasteau’s to the inspector and the inspector said “3 months,” that should have been the end of it. There was no need for the assault on the health inspector by the rats. I also think that the rest of the crew should have shown more faith in Linguini rather than walking out. The entire film set up Linguini as the savior of the restaurant and of the kitchen staff. They were all behind him when they were kicking out the head chef; why the sudden abandonment of faith? It just did not ring true to me. I felt that the film rapidly wound down without coming to a satisfying conclusion and was completely inapposite to what had gone on before.

In spite of this, I would still recommend the film. The animation and story for the first 2/3 are strong enough to overcome my dislike of the film’s ending. I must also report that my filmgoing companions (including my movie going buddy Daisy) loved the film, so perhaps I am being a bit more cynical. I think that, fairly or unfairly, I am holding Pixar to a higher standard. Although this is head and tails above “Cars,” it does not quite rank with the best the studio has to offer. Perhaps this was a side effect of Disney’s acquisition of Pixar. Maybe John Lasseter does not have the time to review the films as he used to do. Nevertheless, this film does rank as one of the better films of the summer. I wonder if this is due more to the fact that so many other films have disappointed…

More than Meets the Eye Indeed: My Review of "Transformers."

I am a true child of the 80s. Although I was born in the 70s, all of my formative years (from 4^th grade until high school graduation) were spent in the 1980s. As part of that generation, my childhood was spent with the products of Hasbro toys, the G.I. Joe and Transformers series. Now, my parents never purchased GI Joes for me due to their understandable aversion to tiny figures being underfoot on the carpet. The Transformers, however, were a different story. I still remember getting my first Transformer. My parents took me to Best Products Company, a now-defunct retail chain that had an outlet in Norfolk, Virginia. Early on in their run, Transformers were difficult to find (much like Nintendo’s Wii today). Imagine my surprise one day when, during an average trip to Best, I found myself face to face with every single toy from the first series of Transformers figures. Even though it was not a special occasion, my parents allowed me to choose one figure. I chose Sideswipe, a Lamborghini Countach that looked awesome in both robot and vehicle form. I remember, even at my young age, being impressed with the fact that ½ of the figure was made of die-cast metal. I was excited to get the packed-in catalogue that showed the remaining figures in the assortment. I loved watching the animated show and seeing my figure on TV. This was my introduction into the world of figure collecting. Over the ensuing years, I continued to collect the Transformers. I had all of the jets from the first series (Skywarp. Starscream and Thundercracker), Soundwave (to this day, my favorite figure ever), Optimus Prime, Megatron, Blaster, Trypticon, Omega Supreme, Ultra Magnus, Metroplex, Dirge, Kup. Wheeljack, Devastator, Superion, Hot Rod, Perceptor, Astrotrain, and more. I watched the cartoon, I saw the movie in the theaters and I played with my toys. Most of all, I loved watching Optimus Prime. Optimus was the leader of the Autobots, the “good” robots who waged their “battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons.” The Transformers were (and are) a happy..even cherished…memory from my childhood. I still have most of those Transformers to this day.

When I first heard of Tom DeSanto’s (the person responsible for bringing X-Men to the big screen) efforts to make a “Transformers” live action movie, I was excited. One of the things that I always wanted to see was a “Transformers” film, but the technology of 1980s filmmaking was so limited as to make such a film impossible. The technological leaps of films such as “Jurassic Park,” the second “Star Wars Trilogy”, and “the Lord of the Rings” made me believe that such a film was possible. All the film needed was a filmmaker who understood the mythology of the previous series, a filmmaker who could please both fanboys and the general public. Suddenly, a light appeared. Steven Spielberg had agreed to produce the film. Maybe he would direct as well? That would have been great! Spielberg, however, decided to chose a filmmaker whose resume was, umm, a bit suspect to say the least.

Michael Bay.

Now, I have nothing personal against Bay; it is just that he is a “movie maker”, not a filmmaker. Bay’s films are loud, full of quick edits, headache inducing, melodramatic, maudlin, sappy, bombastic, senses-assaulting popcorn entertainment. Let us now look at his filmography.

1. Bad Boys: the film that put Will Smith on the map as a bona fide action star. Would Smith have been given projects such as “Independence Day”, “I, Robot,” or “I Am Legend” without this? Probably not. The film was not subtle in ANY way, and the plotline was laughable. Still, it was a noble first effort.

2. The Rock: Sean Connery and Nick Cage’s action extravaganza set in Alcatraz with ludicrous plot points galore. Boy did this film give me a headache!

3. Armageddon: Ugh. ‘Nuff said (except that Bay would mimic the melodrama in many of his later films).

4. Pearl Harbor: Great trailer, AWFUL FILM. What was Bay thinking?

5. Bad Boys II: a truly awful film, but a guilty pleasure for no other reason than the action set pieces. The freeway chase with the boats and the Ferrari is still fun to watch.

6. The Island: Skipped it (as did most of America).

This was the man who was to give life to “Transformers”? Had Spielberg lost his instincts? This looked to be a slap in the face to fans everywhere. Word started coming out from the set that Bay was changing the “Transformers” that we fanboys had grown up with. He made Bumblebee, the robot everyman, a Camaro instead of a Beetle and took away his voice. He put FLAMES on Optimus Prime! All of the Autobots were now products of GM. What the heck was Bay thinking?

And then…other things started to leak out of the production. Peter Cullen, the actor who voiced Optimus Prime (the bastion of good and leader of the Autobots) for the animated series was back as the voice of Optimus Prime. Hugo Weaving (Agent Smith and Elrond!!!!) was to be the voice of the villainous Megatron. The battle scenes were supposedly off the hook. Gradually, the tidings of dismay started to turn into hope. What was I hoping for? Well, I knew that there would be changes, but so long as I still recognized my Transformers, I would have no problems with the film. Truth be told, the original series and the original animated film were not all that great to begin with. Their sole purpose was to sell the newest models of Transformers. If the film paid homage to the original series, that would be enough.

So on July 3^rd, my friends Jeff, Mike and I made our way to the River East 21 in Chicago. We made our way to Theater 10 and witnessed the latest Bay “movie.” Would Bay deliver? Would it be a fun popcorn film ideal for the summer? The answer is a resounding YES! First of all, let me discuss the bad. Bay cannot for the life of him stay away from EVERY SINGLE movie cliché there is (the soldier with the wife and baby back home, the bad girl, the nerdy guy who gets the girl, the clueless parents, the slo-mo for action scenes, the forced patriotism, Jon Turturro, sappy pop songs to sell soundtracks, and a lack of basic storytelling techniques). Now, although that may seem like quite the list, the film was still awesome. Why did I enjoy myself? By all accounts, this film should have left me feeling like I had watched a marathon of “Spider-Man III” interspersed with moments of “Shrek the Third.” Why did I enjoy it? Quite simply, it’s because I have never watched a film like this before. The premise of the film is quite simple: giant robots beat up on each other and cause mass destruction in some awesome action sequences. This is the prototypical “check your brain at the door” summer movie, and it does its job exceedingly well. Optimus Prime was great, and the battles among the Transformers were awe inspiring. The entire audience was quiet during the battles –not because of confusion or boredom with the CGI (as Roger Ebert would have us believe) but because of bated breath waiting to see what would happen next. Just when I thought the action in the final battle could not be any cooler, enter Starscream against a squadron of F-22 Raptors. I will not describe the scene any further other than to say that this one 2 minute sequence alone was worth the price of admission.

The biggest surprise (for me), was the believable performance of Shia LaBeouf as Sam Witwicky. LaBeouf, rumored to be playing Indiana Jones’ son in the next Indy film, succeeded where so many better actors before him had failed. We as the audience believe it when he is talking to the Autobots because LaBeouf knows how to act in front of a blue screen. I maintain that the best actors are those who can convincingly act in front of a blue screen because, at that point in production, everything is in their imagination. With a lesser actor (Hayden Christiansen in the last 2 “Star Wars” films, Jude Law and Gwyneth Paltrow in Gerry Conran’s “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow”), the audience ends up getting pulled out of the film because the actors do not believably convey that they are interacting with the fantasy world. This was not the case here. I forgot all about CGI (even with the knowledge that some scenes utilized full scale robot models) because of LaBeouf’s work. If he is careful with his script choices, I hope to see him develop into quite an actor. This is a wonderful step in the right direction.

If you are looking for a “film,” this is not the movie for you. If you want to see the best of the summer spectacles thus far, I recommend this film. It is pure, unadulterated fun that just may succeed in rekindling your memories of childhood (whatever they may be).

Suresh’s scale: guilty pleasure action film that is better than “Point Break”, but not as good as “Lethal Weapon.”