A Rusty Nail Part II

In between Last Man and I Am Legend was the 1970s attempt at the apocalypse, Omega Man, starring "C-Dog" Heston, of course, but this one didn't give me nightmares. Oh wait, yes it did: the part in which he watches Woodstock over and over and over again, mouthing the hippies' lines word for word. Shudder.

In I Am Legend, the film Will Smith watches over and over is Shrek, and the one foodstuff he saves in his freezer, bacon. He attaches these memories to his absent family, as with the character in the original novel and film. But as you would expect, the setting is NYC (not LA) and Smith won't leave "ground zero" to explore the possibility of other survivors. Moreover, the film is ruined by bad CGI by once again inserting smooth, shiny surfaces where there should be dark, porous ones. A says that we will look back on the CGI era the way we do cheap color of the 40s and 50s with its garish pinks and greens.

I will say that there are a few poignant moments that give new meaning to the word "loneliness" and an excellent nod to Romero's positing of a "talented 10th" of zombies (well, vampires--they're called "hemocytes" actually) who start to think for themselves. Overall, however, none of the three films dared touch the theme running through the novel about the "lewd and lascivious" female vamp-zombs who attempt to lure him outside by strip-tease and masturbation. In I Am Legend, Smith experiments on a female hemocyte, and one might as, why her? In the novel, the question is given an explicit answer, and it's not pretty (though not necrophilic either).

I also saved myself another restless night without sleep by turning to another fundamentally amazing text, Blade Runner: The Final Cut. The audio is in 5.1, the transfer is sharper, and more gore was added (put back in--it was originally taken out); the bad stunt doubles and continuity problems were nixed completely. However, the accompanying documentary, Dangerous Days, was a nerd's delight! Sound the neeeeeeerd hornnnnnn. Three hours looooooooog! Bring your Hot Pockets and Gatoraaaaaade. You get to see screen tests of other actors trying out for Pris and Rachel--with the exact same lighting, smoke, and blocking!!! <---that's real enthusiasm, not sarcasm). Watching it has the odd effect of suggesting other replicants are "out there."

The most fascinating part of the doc was actually a socio-historical one: why did it fail at the box office during the summer of 1982? Because Reaganomics promised hope and happiness, not dark dystopia. Guess which film made the most that summer? E fucking T!!!! I remember that summer so well because everyone was crying over ET--I mean everyone. Oh and here are some other films Blade Runner had to compete with that summer: Beastmaster, Conan the Barbarian, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Poltergeist, Star Trek II, Rocky III, The Thing, and Tron.

To conclude by reiterating CGI sucks (except in Buffy, in which it has a campy effect that actually heightens suspension of disbelief). As one of the producers of (the new) Battlestar Galactica series relates, "We often just say to the CGI people--give it that 'Blade Runner' look, and they know exactly what we mean." Ironically, there is no CGI in Blade Runner--it's all in-camera effects. We truly are ruled by computers and robots these days. The replicants have won:

Casualties

So after last night's party, I'm ecstatic that so many friends of mine have actually found jobs--and locally, too! I had originally wanted to post this picture last week, and now that I have time to write, I wonder if I should: buzzkill!

The pic is sad reminder that not all of us "make it." One story I heard last night was about a certain grad student who simply disappeared off the face of the earth, never telling any of us when or why. I woke up several times last night feeling guilty. "I could have done more to help." Long ago, I had called/emailed several times, as did so many others, to no avail. Academia and shame are so intertwined. The fellow reminded me of my youngest brother who joined the cult: suddenly and severely disillusioned, but so completely stoic about it. Then, one day, snap! Gone.

Although L told me to "Step AWAY from the gaming console," I never cease to find useful ways to make games meaningful to my "real" life. In Rainbow Six Vegas, one has to find fallen teammates and heal them. If they die, you don't go on--game over. I was thinking about our grad student friend as a fallen....soldier?....well, the metaphor breaks down, I suppose. But the emotional impact of the comparison seems right to me.

So, here's to Ch__ Gr___. Best of luck, wherever you are.

(Oh, and sorry the pic is so small. Squint, please.)

Danny Masterson was NEVER on Buffy

But somehow my brain thinks this dude from That 70s Show WAS on Buffy. You see, last night I had a dream that I had moved to LA and occcasionally found myself at celebrities' parties. One night we were at Danny Masterson's and I noticed he had done some similar work on his house that we had. I asked for the tour, but instead of showing me drywall he showed me his entire TV on DVD collection. Lame! It was all King of the Hill and Brady Bunch, nothing obscure like Red Dwarf or something. I then asked why he didn't have That 70s Show or Buffy, since he was on both of them. He replied, "I don't collect the shows that I'm on." (Which is a lie. I looked him up on imdb and he was on King of the Hill, and of course NEVER had even a bit part on Buffy). But gullible me ate it up and I started asking questions about what everyone was up to. I really wanted to know about Amber Benson, since she's a writer and continues to inhabit the role of Tara. He dismissed her and the rest of them but EPECIALLY Nicholas Brendan, whom I soon realized was his arch-enemy for being just as much of a lazy and shiftless dude, but never actually smoked pot and finally did something with his life. Masterson didn't know what anyone was up to and acted as if he'd been stuck with the job of speaking for the show after the rest had moved on with their lives. When I realized he was lying, I nevertheless continued to stop over to his house to say hello. He'd ask me Buffy questions, but I'd change the subject to renovation and talk about how his 70s-era shag carpet was cool for the show but not for real life, so get rid of it. Eventually I stopped visiting.

What does this dream mean? I wonder if it means that those of my friends who are occasionally stoners do not like Buffy as I do. That there's something fundamentally non-stoneresque about Buffy and Angel. Despite it's monsters and such, it's not a "trippy" show at all, but rather appeals to computery-booky nerds on the whole. I will generalize that rarely do the two crowds overlap. My love of Buffy is somehow connected to being at odds with my hippie roots.