Idiot Boxing (2017): Ballers, season 3; Insecure season 2

Ballers, season 3 (2017)

Striking out in a somewhat bolder direction, the show feels similar to the plight that its protagonist, Spencer Strasmore, undergoes during this third season - perhaps reaching for more than it can handle but ultimately staying within its lane.

At the end of the second season, NFL star-turned aspiring financial advisor Strasmore had to rely on a last-ditch safety line from some of his own clients in the form of a multi-million dollar loan. The loan was so that he could buy the company that hired him, run it his own way, and avoid certain other obligations. He was also outed as having played an unknowing part in several fellow players' losing millions of dollars through misguided investments. This third season sees Spencer getting some of his footing back, though he is still under the pressure of debt to his own clients. Despite this, he decides to swing for the fences and try to orchestrate a deal that will move an NFL team to Las Vegas, a move certain to upset many owners of other NFL teams. This invloves juggling even larger egos than the ones he is accustomed to dealing with, and some of his own demons and skeletons threaten to torpedo the deal throughout the process.

I enjoyed this season, and would even say that it's the best of the series so far. I was skeptical at first, when the first few episodes features some shaky scripting and even a few cheap-looking visuals. And Steve Guttenburg (yes, he's still around) shows up to completely overplay his role as an unctuous and smug Las Vegas casino owner. But the second and final thirds of the season hummed along nicely, with some enjoyably tense moments to go along with the several good laughs that each episode provided. Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson has found himself a nearly perfect role, which can showcase his not inconsiderable acting abilities. And there were some new supporting cast members, such as Steven Weber, who turned in some solid little performances.

One thing that seems a bit odd about this season is that the stories of the secondary characters have become rather fragmented from Spencer's. That wouldn't necessarily be terrible if they were a bit more interesting. As it is, though, Ricky Jarett's romantic life isn't nearly as compelling as his battles with possible CTE; and Charles's attempts to find a life in football after this retirement can feel a bit forced and oversimplified at times. I hope future seasons either integrate these guys' stories better with the main one, make them more engaging, or just abandon them altogether. There is also the odd little question of what, exactly, happened to the hot young prospect Travis Mack, who was a significat part of season two's story arc? A strange omission from this season.

The ultimate test of whether I enjoyed a show is simply whether I will be tuning in for the next season. With Ballers, it's a definite "yes." It has its flaws, to be sure, but it's still a fun sports show that focuses on the equally fascinating world behind what happens between the lines.


Insecure, season 2 (2017)

Just one of a several awkward run-ins that Issa has with her
ex, Lawrence. Both of them have some exciting and bumpy
experiences back in the world of singles dating.

An impressive sophomore effort for this dramedy, made stronger with a greater emphasis on the "comedy" component.

I mostly enjoyed the first season of Insecure, though as I stated in my review, my enthusiasm waned a bit by season's end. That first season saw a shift in tone, with it starting off around 80/20 skewing towards comedy over drama, but being more like 50/50 by the latter half of the season. By the end, the laughs were far fewer, as we were simply watching Issa's personal life with her longtime boyfriend Lawrence come crashing down.

The second season picks up not long after the first ended. Issa is still struggling to find her place and fulfilment at her job as a social worker, but she has now officially declared herself a free, single woman. As such, she throws herself back into the current-stricken waters of millenial dating, complete with its many pitfalls. This of course leads to plenty of awkward and hilarious hook ups and near-misses, making for great comedy fodder. At work, she and her closest co-worker, Frieda, face the challenge of bringing their after-school program to a high school where the African-American vice principal is all too happy to exclude non-African Americans from the extra help. Not to be out-dysfunctioned, Issa's best friend Molly is experiencing plenty of occupational and romantic difficulties of her own.

For my money, the strength of the show is almost completely in the comedic elements. Show creator Issa Rae and her fellow writers have a great sense of comic set-ups and dialogue, and Rae herself is an outstanding comedic actress, both in her delivery and her physical humor. A bit of an issue that I had with the first season was how the comedy/drama balance went from being around 80/20 in the favor of comedy in the beginning to being about 50/50 by the final few episodes. This second season, however, struck a balance that was more consistent and satisfying throughout, with the trend generally skewing towards the humorous from season's beginning to end. I will admit that, as a guy who is about to turn 42 years old, my frustration with the dramatic elements are quite possibly due to my age. When one looks back at twenty-somethings bungling their personal lives by making short-

Issa with her closest girl friends. A particularly fun standout
was Kelli (second from the right). She's mostly a comic
presence, but her attitude and lack of filter are hilarious.

sighted and selfish decisions, it can be a bit tedious. However, were I watching this show while I was myself the age of the characters, I would probably be more riveted and curious. As it is, though, I sometimes just shake my head at the predictably negative outcomes of the their decisions. There are also a few reactions and decisions that simply come off as strange or inexplicable (to both me and my wife, with whom I've watched every episode). My hunch is that these little enigmas are either due to the age difference, cultural differences between my white, Texan self and the Los Angeles African-Americans whom the show focuses on, or likely a combination of both. Whatever the case, there was nothing so puzzling that it affected my enjoyment of the show.

It would seem that HBO has once again done the smart thing by keeping this show limited to an efficient season of a tidy 8 episodes, each being between 25 and 30 minutes. The lack of extraneous plot or weak jokes is evident in the brisk story pacing and the crisp jokes and dialogue, where they were clearly able to avoid any lame filler. Issa Rae, her writers, and cast members seem to have more places to go with these characters, and I'm looking forward to future seasons.

New Release! mother! (2017)

No spoilers. Rest easy.

One of the official movie posters, which
more than hints at the visceral scenes
which you can expect in the picture.

Director: Darren Aronofsky

This movie is one trippy, nightmarish horror show of unrelenting tension. And I was fascinated.

The movie follows a young woman (Jennifer Lawrence) who is married to a middle-aged poet (Javier Bardem) who is struggling with writer's block. The woman (her name is never given, but referred to as "Mother" in the credits) leaves her husband (name also never given, credited as "Him") to seek inspiration in solitude, while she meticulously repairs and refurbishes their entire house, which is a grand old country home that apparently suffered some sort of damage in the past. A visitor arrives (Ed Harris), and he very quickly imposes on the couple. While Mother is none too pleased with the unexpected guest's intrusion, Him seems oddly welcoming to this stranger. Soon, the stranger's obnoxious wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) arrives, adding Mother's concerns. After this point, the situation steadily spirals out of control for Mother over the course of time. The entire home eventually becomes a whirlwind of bizarre and aggressive behaviors which Mother tries to reckon with.

Darren Aronofsky, who wrote and directed the movie, has shown in past films that he is more than willing to offer commentary on grand themes, while using hallucinogenic visuals to convey discomfort. He did this in his first two features, Pi and Requiem for a Dream, which dealt with paranoia and addiction, respectively. mother! does an equally commendable job building a sense of claustrophobia at the hands of encroaching guests and ever-multiplying hordes of unwanted visitors. When you add in the hallucinogenic, sometimes surrealist visions which Mother experiences, the movie certainly creates a mood. It's not likely to be a mood which pleases you, but I have to think that Aronofsky's point was to make us squirm more than a little. Mission accomplished.

Lest you think that the movie is simply about freaking out us viewers, rest assured that there is far more to it than that. Aronofsky has never been one to shy away from swinging for the fences in terms of grand themes, and mother! is no exception. It becomes clear fairly early on that we are not meant to see the characters on screen as "real" people, but rather archetypes. The character names in the credits certainly confirm this, giving credence to the idea that we are watching an allegory for several notions, some much more obvious than others. Such relatively abstract forms of film are likely to annoy or frustrate many viewers, but I found them mostly fascinating.

If you have seen the cast list, you will probably not be surprised that the acting is outstanding. Curiously, as purely cinematic as much of this movie is, there are certain elements that put me in mind of a stage play. This is something that can require a certain extra grandiosity in actors' performances, and will rarely work in films. In mother!, however, it actually works, given the allegorical nature of the tale. Enhancing the performances are the framing, camerawork, and set designs, which certainly create a memorable setting and sense of ever-increasing chaos.

One of several scenes which depict how Mother is (or at least
feels) completely out of place and sync with everything and
everyone around her, including her husband.

If one has looked at reviews for this movie, you'll notice very mixed reactions (something Aronofsky movies have inspired in the past). I think that this is for a couple of reasons. If one is able to see this movie as a piece of art, not unlike bizarre or even grotesque works by masters like Picasso or Gustave Dore, then one is likely to appreciate much of what it has to offer. If, on the other hand, one is expecting a traditional horror tale or human drama, then one is likely to be disappointed at the least and outright offended at worst. So it helps to know what you're in for here.

This is one of those movies that I can't say that I "enjoyed" but that certainly held my interest and which I found to be a quality piece of art. Some of the social commentary can come off a bit obvious or heavy-handed here and there, but I was always curious about what the next scene would bring. At times, I found it was actually predictable, but there were enough surprises and oddly vague suggestions that I remained engaged for the film's full two hours. I may never watch it again, but I was glad to catch it on the big screen. 

Retro Duo, anime edition: Akira (1988); Ninja Scroll (1993)

Akira (1988)

Director: Katsuhiro Otomo

One of the granddaddies of modern anime, and this one still holds up quite well.

Like Fist of the North Star and Vampire Hunter D, Akira was one of the titans of anime film that I watched many times back in the early 1990s. Not having seen it in over two decades, though, I wasn't sure how it would feel. I needn't have worried.

Based on director Katsuhiro's Otomo's equally-lauded, massive manga work of the same name, the story is a science-fiction action tale that takes place in Tokyo in 2030, now "Neo-Tokyo," nearly four decades after a mysterious and immensely powerful weapon had destroyed much of 1992 Tokyo and triggered World War III. The main story follows a few adolescent biker gang members, led by Kaneda, who become enmeshed in a bizarre and terrifying confluence of events and powerful figures. At its center is a long-buried, secretive science program that had, several decades earlier, been experimenting on children in order to harness energies no less powerful than the Big Bang itself. Kaneda's best friend, Tetsuo, is accidentally imbued with similar powers, but he has no training or assistance in controlling them. The result is a devastating variety of psychokinetic abilities which, though at first granting Tetsuo immense power, eventually overwhelm and threaten to consume not only him, but also the entire city of Neo-Tokyo.

At its heart, Akira is a cautionary tale about mankind meddling with the forces of nature. The way that it tells this story, though, is truly a sight to behold. The film melds several conventions of speculative fiction, horror, and action extremely well, and it does it on as epic a scale as one could imagine. When Tetsuo is first afflicted by the side effects on his newly-acquired powers, we get several nightmarish hallucination scenes that are as creepy as some of the best shows in the horror genre. As his abilities rapidly crescendo, the military and science groups who try to rein in Tetsuo find themselves hopelessly outmatched. But as they try ever-more powerful methods of stopping the young man, the scenes of destruction grow larger, more devastating, and more captivating for us viewers. What starts as a few soldiers and doctors being carelessly dismembered eventually escalates into Tetsuo destroying entire tank regiments, city blocks, and even a massive laser satellite in space, all with mental powers that have been unleashed.

Freaky, handsy teddy bears are just the beginning of Tetsuo's
problems. The eerie music that accompanies these scenes just
makes them that much more horrifying.

Scale is one thing, but it isn't everything (I site every Michael Bay Transformers movie as evidence). What makes the movie enthralling much of the time is the aesthetic. Katsuhiro Otomo was actually trained as an architect, and it shows in both in manga and animation. He had an excellent sense of how to use negative space and scale to create sequences which, even if chaotic and packed with action, make an impression beyond objects and people simply flying around the screen. To put it simply, there are a ton of gripping action scenes that are a blast to watch.

The story has always felt rushed, even if mostly compelling. This isn't really a big surprise, given that Otomo's original, serialized manga was a sprawling, 2,000-plus page tale that delved into multiple storylines involving Tokyo society, political corruption, and several other grand themes, along with the gradual erosion of Tetsuo's sanity and his friendship with anti-hero Kaneda. Otomo did a commendable job in condensing many of the main points of his larger story into a 2-hour movie, but the pace can often seem too brisk, not offering us enough time to know or care much about the main characters.

I would be remiss if I did not mention one of the movie's greatest strengths - the soundtrack. I had forgotten just how haunting and evocative it is. This movie is very nearly three decades old, but the score has not aged a day. It is still an amazingly slick fusion of electronica and traditional Japanese sounds, including driving taiko drums and even deep-throat Buddhist chanting. Like any great soundtrack does, it immensely enhances every scene during which it is played, from the motorcycle street races, to Tetsuo's earliest nightmares about the toys, to the finale during which the titular Akira emerges to try and stop the seemingly unstoppable, cosmic and destructive forces exploding from within Tetsuo. The music always hits just the right notes and tones demanded.

I was glad to fire this one up again. Far more than just bringing me back in time nearly three decades, it proved to still be an impressive work of film making.

Ninja Scroll (1993)

Original Japanese Title: Jubei Ninpucho

Director: Yoshiaki Kawajiri

Back in the mid-1990s, MTV would occasionally air brief, one- to two-minute clips of animation from fringe artists or foreign countries. I recall being stricken by a phenomenal clip of a quiet samurai crossing a bridge, only to be assaulted by a trio of thieves whom he dispatches with lightning-fast sword work and a few slick one-liners. I was dazzled, but also frustrated by not knowing what it was or where I could get more of it. Luckily, not long after that initial exposure, I discovered the source to be Ninja Scroll, a feature-length samurai/fantasy film. After watching the full movie, I was borderline obsessed. I bought the VHS tape and watched it at least once every year through the rest of the decade. My viewing rate slowed down after that, so familiar was I with the film, but this recent viewing renewed my appreciation for this anime masterpiece.

The story follows Jubei Kibagami, a drifter samurai/ninja for hire in the mold of classic lone gunmen/samurai in the films of Sergio Leone or Akira Kurosawa. Jubei is a master swordsman with a keen wit and a soft spot for the little guy. Through little fault of his own, Jubei becomes embroiled in a sinister power play to overthrow the local government by the "Eight Devils of Kimon," an octet of villains possessed of bizarre, supernatural powers. Jubei teams up with a female ninja, Kagero, and a crafty old government spy, Dakuan. As the trio try to fend off the lethal Devils and their otherworldly abilities, Jubei discovers that their leader is an old nemesis whom he had thought dead. This turns a mission of survival into one of revenge.

Jubei's duel in a quiet bamboo forest with the blind sword
master Mujuro is my favorite stand-off against one of the
lesser Eight Devils. It's relatively short, but has a fantastic
atmosphere and one of several clever turns in the film. 

To this day, this is my favorite anime film. As a viewer in his early forties now, I still appreciate the clever little turns in the plot and the overall tight storytelling. In my experience, most anime puts more emphasis on aesthetic, at the expense of thoughtful or mature plotting or character development. Ninja Scroll is a rare exception. I won't suggest that it can stand up to high-quality live-action movies, but there is still something genuinely moving and engaging to be found in this period tale. Jubei is well-constructed character, and when he finally loses his cool in the final sequences, his rage is fully palpable.

Of course, great ninja/samurai anime shouldn't just be solid story and characters. We came to see some sword-swinging action striking visuals, right? Right. Well, Ninja Scroll is tough to top in this department. The concept of having a set of villains with abilities like rock-hard skin, being able to literally melt into shadows, or unleash a horde of deadly wasps from a hive built into one's back is a great start. Couple such bizarre attributes with hyper-slick, dynamic animation, and you have an action movie that is simply a blast to watch. The duels and fights are thrilling, and there are even some trippy visual sequences that make for a nice change of tone. Director (and chief animator) Kawajiri's semi-rough style may not be for those who enjoy the more pleasing, smoother animation of legends like Hayao Miyazaki or Katsuhiro Otomo, but I think his style is the perfect representation for his brand of adult-oriented violence and action.

Speaking of violence, Ninja Scroll has it in spades. Without going into detail, this one is absolutely not for kids. On top of that, there are a couple of sexual assault scenes that unfortunately bear the stamp of misogyny all-too often found in anime. It is only this latter blemish that I can criticize in this movie. Fortunately, the scenes do pass rather quickly, minimizing the discomfort they are likely to cause any thoughtful viewer.

If you enjoy any form of mature anime but haven't yet seen this movie, you owe it to yourself to give it a shot. It is simply tough to top. 

Before I Die #613*: A Storm over Asia (1928)

*It's that time again. The fine people at the "1,001...Before You Die" headquarters have issued a new edition of their list, including 12 new movies from the last year or so. I'd already seen five of them, but this all requires an adjustment to my overall numbers. Hence the jump from film #607 to #613. With that out of the way...

This is the 613th movie that I've now seen out of the 1,199 movies on the "Before You Die" list that I'm gradually working my way through.

Original Russian Title: Potomok Chingis-Khana

Director: Vsevolod Pudovkin

Bair, the Mongol fur trader, offers his wares for sale. The
insulting price given sets into motion an ever-expanding chain
of events that lead to an massive outright revolt.

A curious old silent movie that, while overly long by today's standards, offered some social and political commentary that was novel for its day.

The movie mostly follows Bair, a Mongol fur trader who runs afoul of a chiseling, white supremacist English trader. After a scuffle during which an Englishman is killed, Bair goes on the run and joins a group of Russian partisans for a time, as they fight against English forces in the region. He is eventually captured and sentenced to death by the British; however, it is discovered that he is likely the only living descendant of Genghis Khan, the powerful ruler from centuries past whose legend still has a firm grip on the Mongolian people. Knowing this, the British enact plan to raise Bair to the status of ruler of the Mongols, hoping to use him as a puppet ruler through whom they can control the Mongolian people. Unfortunately for the scheming British, Bair ultimately erupts into fury at his and his people's being used and manipulated, and he rallies his fellow Mongols to war against the British.

The version I watched of this is apparently the "full" two-hour-and-change version, as opposed to the 74-minute version that is referred to on several database websites. Well, I could really feel those extra 45 minutes at times. The movie features more than a few slow-moving segments during which I presume the audience was meant to simply take in the scenery, as opposed to seeing the plot move along. This is especially true during the first half hour or so, when little happens beyond Bair bringing a rare, high-quality fur into town for sale. Things do get more engaging once he goes on the run from the infuriated British, but often the pace slows while scenes linger on repetitive sequences or mundane activities such as men smiling at each other. It also doesn't help that there are absolutely no well-rounded or fully explored characters in the picture. This is not completely uncommon for stories which tackle large socio-political and military themes, but it can be rather dull when all but one character acts in completely predictable ways.

There is one fascinating (if overly long) sequence where we
get some documentary-style footage of authentic Buddhist
ceremonies being performed. The precision and pageantry
of these ceremonies is curiously juxtaposed with English
military leaders donning their garb. Such commentary was
relatively sophisticated, based on other silent films I've seen.

All that said, A Storm over Asia does stand out from most other silent films that I've seen, including its contemporaries. It's the earliest film I've seen that offers a fairly straightforward tale of social manipulation, whereby one group - the British in this case - seeks to use religious belief and historical capital to create a shadow regime over a region. This shows a deeper and darker vision of international politics than what one would see in the films of D.W. Griffiths or a movies like Battleship Potemkin and October, two Russian revolution films which had a very obvious bias. This movie does the same, but expands its scope to outside of Russia's borders.

The end of the tale is quite unusual as well. Whereas many directors would have built an entire third (and even perhaps a second) act around a Mongol horde erupting with fury against their oppressors, it is this outburst of anger that serves as a foreboding exclamation point at the end of A Storm over Asia. It certainly has a very particular effect of leaving one with a sense that one overly arrogant group has just grabbed the tiger by the tail, and we viewers are left with the image of the snarling tiger just turning around and starting to take its first vicious swipe at its aggressor. I can appreciate how the story is much more about the causes behind a revolution rather than the actual fighting which eventually break out.

Overall and interesting film for its day, and one that does show why it is still considered important, nearly a century after its release.

That's 613 films down. Only 586 to go before I can die. 

New Release! Logan Lucky (2017)

Some vague spoilers ahead. Fair warning.

The Logan siblings - they comprise half of the sextet that
attempts a heist of rather massive proportions.

Director: Steven Soderbergh

A fun heist movie, with a unique flavor and an attempt at something just a tad more complex than Soderbergh's "Ocean's" films, even if it doesn't quite succeed at everything it attempts.

The tale is mostly that of Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum), a proud West Virginian who gets laid off from his construction job on account of his having a chronic knee problem. Jimmy needs money to help support his daughter, so he convinces his brother Clyde (Adam Driver), sister Mellie (Riley Keough) and a few others of dubious character to pull off a robbery at the nearby NASCAR racetrack during a competition.

As a heist movie, Logan Lucky hits the necessary marks. The setup is nothing new, and it doesn't hold up terribly well under scrutiny, but it serves well enough as an excuse to see if a band of  misfits can actually pull off a challenging robbery. More important is that the movie, much like the "Ocean's" movies, offers clever and entertaining forms of problem solving. There's a cunning jailbreak (both out and back in), stealth, disguises, and meticulous planning all along the way. This is what any good movie of this type needs, and Logan Lucky delivers.

Much like Soderberg's "Ocean's" series, this one also has a very breezy, fun tone. This is especially evident with the characters. While there is a cursory human interest story at work between Jimmy and his cute little daughter, the proceedings never come close to getting grim or overly intense. Jimmy, his siblings, and their partners are all comic characters of one degree or another, with the most purely humorous being the demolitions expert Joe Bang (Daniel Craig) and his uber redneck brothers. I must admit that, were I from West Virginia or the deep south, I might take exception to how people from those regions are depicted, seeing as how nearly every main character seems to be intellectually challenged in one way or another. As it was, though, there are plenty of good laughs to be had.

On the topic of mental capabilities, however, is one bone I have to pick with the movie. At nearly every step of the picture, we are shown how everyone involved in the heist, from the two goofy, younger Bang brothers up to the "mastermind" Jimmy Logan, seems to be rather slow or inept in certain ways. And yet, the entire crew does actually manage to plan and execute a rather sophisticated robbery to near-perfection. This would have been easier to accept had we been given some slight suggestion as to Jimmy's mental acuity, but this never really happens. I very much appreciate seeing a heist movie that uses a different character type, setting everything in the South, but I still need to believe that the characters actually have the skills required.

And the Bang family makes up the other half. While Daniel
Craig's West Virginian drawl slips every so often, he makes up
for it with a fun turn as the quirky demolitionist, Joe Bang.

Another odd little blemish came from an extremely unexpected source - Oscar winner Hilary Swank. Swank plays F.B.I. Agent Sarah Grayson, who shows up in the last parts of the movie to try and piece together the facts of the robbery. For some strange reason, Swank's performance stood out as completely unnatural and overdone, coming off as a poor imitation of Sandra Bullock's comedically stern Agent Ashburn in The Heat. This stands out all the more when everyone else in the picture, very much including pretty boy Channing Tatum, does an excellent job. Swank is a great actress, but for whatever reason, she missed the mark on this one. It happens to the best of them, I suppose.

So this was an entertaining flick, being exactly what I had expected. It's not going to change the genre or anything quite so historic, but it is a well-made, entertaining tale that can offer some truly PG-13 fun for a couple of hours. 

Before I Die #607: Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928)

This is the 607th movie I've seen out of the 1,187 movies on the "Before You Die" list that I'm working my way through.

Directors: Charles Reisner, Buster Keaton

A solid Keaton flick, with some of his more memorable set piece stunts, though it doesn't top my two other favorite Keaton movies.

The setup and story are not wildly innovative for silent era comedies: the only son of a crusty old steamboat captain, William Canfield, Jr. (Keaton) returns home from college to see his father for the first time in many, many years. Much to his burly, working-class father's chagrin, Junior is a diminutive dandy, looking wildly different from his old man in both his tiny frame and his foppish style. Senior attempts to teach junior his trade, with little success. This creates bigger problems since their family business - their steamboat - is about to be put out of business by a brand new, larger, and more luxurious steam liner that has just moved into their river town. The rivalry with this other company is put on hold, though, when a massive storm blows through the town, endangering everyone in it. Junior, despite his many goofs up to this point, manages to save his father and several other prominent people in the town.

"Old Stoneface" Keaton's remarkable skills as a
physical comedian are on display throughout the
film, but perhaps never moreso than as he
fumbles his way around the steamships.

As with any Keaton flick, the story is hardly what matters here. It's all about the visual stunts and gags, and this film has plenty of them. The most notable is the grande finale windstorm, when entire buildings are literally crumbling around Keaton's character, as he dodges the debris coming at him from all directions. Although there were some impressive stunts in this very long sequence, I was actually more amused by a few of the simpler physical gags. What's always impressed me about Keaton were his uncanny agility and grace, and the massive eyes on his hilariously deadpan face. In this movie, there is more than one moment where he'll take a spill that could seriously cripple him, somehow catch himself, and never once change his facial expression. It dawned on me that he truly is the original Jackie Chan, in terms of putting his safety at risk for the sake of a movie. Only I find his impassive non-reactions far funnier than Chan's highly expressive face.

I've now seen about a half dozen of Keaton's movies, and my two favorites are still Our Hospitality and The General. Steamboat Bill, Jr. may have the more memorable final act in the eyes of historians, and it may have inspired the very first Mickey Mouse cartoon, but it wasn't quite as entertaining as those earlier movies of his.

That's 607 movies down. Only 580 to go before I can die. 

Retro Duo: Drive (2011); The Heat (2013)

Drive (2011)

Director: Nicolas Winding Refn

One of my favorite movies from the last decade. I just watched it for the fourth or fifth time, and I still marvel at it.

The basic story elements are straight out of the mythical Western movies of Sergio Leone: a quiet man with no name and a particular skill set is not bothered by committing acts outside of the law. However, he does have a certain code of honor to which he holds himself. When he sees the forces of darkness closing in, he decides to use his skills to fight back. In the case of director Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive, instead of a gunfighter, we have "Driver" (Ryan Gosling), who is a movie stunt driver moonlighting as a getaway "wheel man" for robbers. When Driver (his real name is never given) falls in love with his neighbor, Irene (Carey Mulligan), he starts to show a tenderness unseen to us before. This nearly all vanishes, however, when Irene's husband is first paroled out of prison but then forced into committing a robbery that goes horribly wrong. Driver then finds himself in a race to track down the gangsters responsible, while keeping Irene and her little boy safe.

While Drive is not telling a story that is particularly fresh, it updates the "quiet, lone hero" tale wonderfully and tells it with such cinematic excellence that it shames other movies that have tried the same thing since Leone first mastered it in the mid-1960s. Admittedly, it helps if one has a certain affinity for this type of protagonist. I've long been a fan of Leone and Clint Eastwood's (we can technically throw Charles Bronson in there, too) Man With No Name character. I'm far from the only boy in the history of humanity who's been fascinated by the fantasy of the ever-cool and unflappable hero who is so skilled that he can take down any adversary, often without breaking much of a sweat. Ryan Gosling's Driver is cut from that same cloth, though he's traded in Eastwood's dusty serape for a slick, silver driving jacket with a badass scorpion on the back.

I know, I know. If you haven't seen the movie, you're thinking, "Come on. A silent, badass loner wearing a scorpion jacket? This is a joke, right?" No. It's not. By a lesser filmmaker, it would be laughable, to be sure. But this screenplay and direction are so tight that it's brilliant. The narrative is a case-study in cinematic efficiency, with nary a wasted scene or throwaway line to be found in the entire film. And while there is certainly plenty of intense action and violence in the latter parts of the movie, much of the earlier segments feature delicate and subtle visual cues to tell the story. These subtleties are what make the action sequences in the third act of the movie so much more impactful.

I've spoken to a few friends who have watched the movie and simply found it too slow, quiet, and brooding for their liking. I understand this. If one prefers their action to be highly kinetic and offer strings of one-liners to bridge the action scenes, a la the Fast and the Furious franchise, then Drive is not the movie for you. In place of those styles of storytelling, Drive offers stunningly framed and lit scenes, expert editing, a meditative tone, and pitch-perfect acting (the supporting cast is amazing) to tell a story that is both classic and unique. There aren't many non-popcorn movies that I watch every year or two, but this quickly became one of them. After this most recent viewing, this is not at all likely to change.

This great throwback poster gives some
idea of the tone of the movie. Think of
it as a more comedic, profane version of
Lethal Weapon.

The Heat (2013)

Director: Paul Feig

A bit of a forerunner for the even-better, modern comedy classic Spy, The Heat is a hilarious early team-up of comedy director Paul Feig and brilliant comedienne Melissa McCarthy.

The movie pairs stuffy, arrogant F.B.I. Agent Ashburn (Sandra Bullock) with local hardass Boston police officer Mullins (McCarthy) as they try to track down a high-volume drug dealer responsible for several grizzly deaths in recent months. Ashburn is a well-educated and capable but highly abrasive, career-driven woman who has alienated virtually every coworker in the Bureau. Mullins, on quite the other hand, is Ashburn's polar opposite in nearly every way. While she is equally effective at tracking and capturing criminals, her approach is far less surgical and much more that of a wrecking ball, speaking to her background as the eldest sister in her Irish, working class family. Mullins is supremely crass and on a hair trigger at all times. She and Ashburn eventually bridge the tremendous gap between their styles of law enforcement and work together to solve the case.

Anyone who has seen and enjoyed either Bridesmaids or Spy would do well to check out The Heat. Director Paul Feig has found his modern comedy movie niche with the formula evidenced in these movies (though Spy was impressively less formulaic than the other two): use a known story blueprint, hire several supremely hilarious actors, and let them run with their lines and characters. That is truly where the strength of these movies lie. When you give someone like McCarthy a few decent lines or a dynamic character to work with, along with R-rated freedom, she'll either deliver the written line with perfect timing and tone, or she'll punch it up into something even better. And not to slight Sandra Bullock here, who does a great job as the straight woman, but it's McCarthy's attitude and comic chops that set the tone here. It also helps to have some other veteran comic actors like Bill Burr and Michael Rappaport as supporting characters, just so no single voice or pair of voices dominate for too long.

Like nearly every Paul Feig movie I've seen, The Heat is probably about 10 to 15 minutes too long, due to overly generous editing. It's fairly clear that much of Feig's approach is to grant his actors a ton of freedom to ad-lib as much as they desire. This is as it should be, as it clearly leads to plenty of hilarious moments of spontaneous dialogue and reactions. However, every film of his contains at least a few scenes that feel a tad too long or simply superfluous, bogging down the narrative pace just a bit. Fortunately, they've never been a complete drag on his movies, and The Heat is the same.

I was glad to learn that shortly after I watched this movie, a sequel was announced. The trio of Feig, McCarthy, and Bullock was obviously a strong one, and there are plenty more tales of Ashburn and Mullins that would be fun to tell. I'll look forward to it. 

Before I Die #606: An Andalusian Dog (1928)

This is the 606th movie I've watched from the "Before You Die" list which I'm working my way through.

Probably the most (in)famous scene from the film. Yes, that
is a straight razor in his hand, and yes, he's about to do what
you are afraid he's going to do with it.

Director: Luis Bunuel

If you know a little something about painting and/or film history, then the names "Salvador Dali" and "Luis Bunuel" ought to evoke notions of oddity, irreverance and surreality. And once you know that, you get some idea of what you're in for with An Andalusian Dog, a 20-minute short film conceived and written by Dali and Bunuel, and directed by the latter.

How does one describe the story, such as it is? Frankly, it's virtually impossible. I could give a detailed synopsis of what happens, but it would probably take no fewer than 5,000 words and far too much of your time. In very broad strokes, this 20-minute film short connects seemingly incongruous images, such as a woman having her eye cut open with a razor blade, (perhaps?) the same woman assisting a man semi-dressed as a clown who has had a bicycle accident outside of her apartment, a man with ants literally crawling out of his palm, and plenty of other strange and unsettling visuals. While it takes great imagination to even attempt to piece any of this together into any cohesive narrative, the one connecting factor may be that nearly all of the images are likely to unsettle a viewer in one way or another.

Need a mental workout? Just watch some images like a couple
of dead mules on tops of pianos and try to make heads or
tails of them. That's what this film has to offer.

My viewing experience was such that I was only glad that the film wasn't longer than 20 minutes. I simply don't know if my brain could have handled it. I don't mind strange and bizarre. I've watched, found merit in, and even enjoyed films by directors such as David Lynch and Lars Von Trier, two filmmakers unafraid to challenge audiences for a full 90 to 120 minutes. But An Andalusian Dog? It truly is the stuff of the human unconscious. It is no secret that Salvador Dali drew much inspiration for his surrealist painting and sculptures from his own dreams and hallucinations. This film is the movie picture version of just such visions. The movie has that typically dream-like quality where the connection between one moment, scene or sequence to the next is nearly impossible to predict. It might be a visual similarity, a random thought or impulse, or a loose word association. One could probably watch the movie a thousand times and come up with completely different interpretations every time, given the elemental nature of many of the images. However one does it, it is likely to tax your mind as it works to find some sort of meaning in it all. For such a strange work, more than 20 minutes would likely have been asking too much of most viewers, including myself.

I understand that this was probably one of the first well-respected surrealist films, and one that inspired many later filmmakers to break certain rules and conventions of cinematic storytelling. That stated, I can hardly say that I "enjoyed" this little film. I can appreciate its artistry and just how wildly imaginative it is, but I can't see myself going back to it unless it comes with a manual.

So that's now 606 movies down. Only 582 to go before I can die. 

Before I Die #605: The Docks of New York (1928)

This is the 605th movie I've seen out of the 1,187 movies on the "Before You Die" list that I'm working my way through.

Director: Josef von Sternberg

A tidy little tale that illustrates several evolutions in film storytelling just at the dawn of the sound age in cinema.

The movie tracks the brisk meeting and bonding between Bill Roberts (George Bancroft) and Mae (Betty Compson). Roberts is a cynical, steely-eyed, hard-as-nails stoker, one who shovels coal into a ship's furnaces for fuel. While he and his fellow stokers are on dry land for an evening of R and R, he comes across a young woman, Mae, who tries to commit suicide by throwing herself into the river. Roberts saves her and soon falls in love, even marrying her in a hasty ceremony that very night, right at the bar where he had just earlier been getting drunk and brawling with other revelers. While initially getting married as a sort of lark and planning to hop a new ship the next morning, Roberts soon realizes that he loves the morose Mae more than he realizes. He jumps off of his new ship just as it is leaving port and rushes to find Mae at the local courthouse, where she is being charged for shoplifting. Roberts takes the rap for her, though, allowing himself to be sentenced to 60 days in prison. For him and Mae, though, this is a sort of blessing, as he will at least be on dry land and closer to her, rather than out at sea.

When compared to the other "great" movies that I've now seen from this era, The Docks of New York stands out in a few ways. Firstly is that it is a drama focusing on a segment of society very rarely featured in such films. Nearly the entire tale takes place in a beaten down dock area of New York City, a depressed section of the city where blue-collar workers struggled mightily to survive. The movie depicts the epitome of the "work hard, play hard" approach to life, where nights brought excessive drinking, fighting, and sex to anyone looking for them. This is a far cry from the loftier or more epic tales told in most other films of the day. There is a highly seedy element to the proceedings, but the movie isn't judging them. Rather, it uses Bill and Mae to evoke a certain amount of sympathy for such people. This is especially true for Mae, who has obviously been used and abused far too much in her young life. At this point in film history, not many quality films had offered such portrayals of the "lower class," with The Last Laugh and The Crowd being two of the few notable exceptions.

Something else I noticed in this movie is how we continued to see ever more subtlety in the star actors' techniques. Lead man Bancroft and lady Compson have clearly learned that they needn't mug or posture for a camera that can offer us telling close-ups of their faces and capture all of their smallest movements. And there is a notable ease with which Bancroft struts around the wild saloon where he and his fellow salt-of-the-earth types get into various scuffles. Such actors always unintentionally make their second-rate supporting cast look a little worse, though it can be a bit tougher to spot before the true boom of sound and dialogue. All the same, the leading actors do nice work evoking some feeling for their characters.

Bill and Mae, just outside of Bill's rundown room. This film
showed early mastery of dark and light that later movies
would turn into virtually an entire genre.

Perhaps even more than the characters, story, or actors, the visuals are quite impressive. Using methods that foreshadowed what we would see in the great noir films of the forthcoming decades, this movie used lighting and shadows to amazing effect. This creates a sense of lingering doom over certain scenes, especially those just outside of the bar and shanty apartments, where one can assume that nothing good is happening in the many nooks, crannies, and corners shrouded in darkness. This all sets a rather unique setting and tone for the movie, making it even more imperative that Bill and Mae find some sort of solace with each other.

Being a silent film, The Docks of New York is still trapped in several of that era's popular movie conventions, including silly slapstick gags here and there, and an oversimplified plot. Still, it is a decent movie for its time, and I was engaged for its very modest running time of 76 minutes. Those who enjoy silent era films would likely appreciate more than a few things about this one, even if it isn't the silent film likely to win over viewers not terribly interested in pre-sound pictures. 

Idiot Boxing: Breaking Bad full rewatch (2008-2013)

I was relatively late to the Breaking Bad phenomenon. Of course I had heard about it's popularity and critical accolades during its initial rise to prominence back around 2010. But it wasn't until the series was nearly wrapped up in 2013 that I started playing catch up by working through the entire series. As most people, I found it thoroughly engaging, entertaining, and highly original. I enjoyed it enough to know that, at some point in the future, I would likely rewatch the entire series again.

Well, after three excellent seasons of the spinoff prequel Better Call Saul and recently channel surfing my way into one of the more memorable scenes from Breaking Bad earlier this year, the time came. Thanks to the marvel of modern streaming, the entire five-season, 62-episode series is sitting right there in Netflix just begging to be binged. So binge I did, not being completely sure of just how much I would enjoy the entire (roughly 46-and-a-half hour) ride on a second time.

In short, the show was even better the second time.

It speaks highly of a story, whether in literature or other media, when it is still compelling after you know the key plot points and the ultimate outcomes for the characters. Breaking Bad is a prime example of this. The first time I watched the series, it took about two seasons before I realized that Walter White was not some sort of sympathetic anti-hero who would eventually see the light. Rather, he was a warped, angry, vicious monster buried deep within the exterior of an impotent suburban schlub. Over the course of the series, he makes one decision after another which peels back another layer of the sad sack exterior to reveal a person dying to be "the man," but almost never wanting to admit his selfish urges to others or even himself. Though White commits some rather heinous acts in the first season, one could somewhat justify them as acting out of desperation. However, as the story progresses and White thrusts himself deeper into the world of mass production and distribution of the lethally addictive drug crystal meth, it becomes clearer that it is all just the means through which he hopes to upstage everyone whom he feels has slighted or underestimated him over the course of his adult life. These gradual revelations are compelling to watch, even as unsavory as they are.

One consistently compelling aspect of the show was its constant focus on problem solving - a theme as old as human storytelling itself. And Breaking Bad was masterful at it. Still, this was only window dressing compared to the deeper narrative at work. The tale of Walter White himself can be seen as rollicking, eerily dark and violent American tragedy. In classic Greek tragedy fashion, White is a man possessed of true genius-level talent - in science and chemistry, to be precise. It is quite clear that he could have been, and in fact at one time nearly was, a force for exceptional good in the world. And yet, for reasons we can infer related to White's own pride, he turned his back on a chance to have a career filled with tremendous rewards, both intellectual and financial. When the show essentially picks up nearly two decades later, we eventually gets hints and clues as to how much of Walter's humanity still exists, in contrast with the bitter, vengeful, selfish, and extremely dangerous creature we see revealed. While there are plenty of moments during the course of the show when it is easy to see Walter as a thoroughly corrupted force of pure evil, there are also just enough moments when the little that is left of his compassion show through. These moments keep Walter from ever becoming a one-dimensional villain, and the story is that much stronger for it.

Jesse and Hank, two of the best-formed and best-acted
characters you're likely to find in any TV show. Actors Aaron
Paul and Dean Norris brought every bit of intensity, tragedy,
and comedy to life through these dynamic forces in the show.

While the focus on the protagonist carries much of the show's powerful story, any successful 60-plus episode drama needs compelling secondary and tertiary characters, and Breaking Bad has them in spades. On this second viewing of the series, I had a much greater appreciation for Jesse Pinkman's story arc, along with Aaron Paul's ability to bring it to life. While Pinkman is, along with virtually every other character, a damaged person, he is arguably the most well-rounded and sympathetic of a varyingly bad lot. His journey from being a burned-out, slacker druggy into and through the world of deadly-serious, top-level illegal drug manufacturing is as carefully told as Walter White's. It is eminently fascinating to see Jesse try to navigate just who he is, who he wants to be, and how he deals with some of the despicable acts he performs at the behest of the vastly more capable and domineering figures around him. In an odd way, he emerges as the closest thing to a real soul that the series has, and it is through Jesse that disturbed protagonist Walter White's story meets its complex and poetic conclusion. Almost on par with Jesse is Walter's brother-in-law Hank, whose character and story arc I appreciated even more this time through the series. Beyond Pinkman and Hank, the show boasts a treasure trove of other brilliant, if terrifying and warped, characters. Whether it was ice-cold drug kingpin Gustavo Fring, dead-eyed security expert Mike Ehrmentrout, sleazebag lawyer Saul Goodman, or any of the many other colorful players, by its third season the show is teeming with people whom you are dying to see again.

As if a great narrative and characters aren't enough to make for a great show, Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan clearly put a premium on using the medium of film to great visual effect. As we've also seen with this show's prequel series Better Call Saul, every episode features at least one segment of purely visual storytelling. These are often done with some of the most consistently excellent opening scenes in TV show history, with nearly every one coming at you from a different visual and narrative angle and asking you to figure out just what the initially bizarre or cryptic images are telling you about the greater story. It is easy to find shows that overuse dialogue and exposition to tell their stories these days, but it is far more difficult to find shows that have the patience and respect for their viewers to use the moving picture to engage the audience in the ways that Breaking Bad did from the very start, with a tidy-whitey-clad Walter White barreling along a deserted desert road in a shoddy RV, wearing a gas mask. That's the kind of imagery that begs one to keep watching to see just what the hell is happening, and the show maintained that approach to storytelling for its entire run. Nearly every episode starts with a trippy, puzzling sequence of imagery, sans dialogue, that begs you to sort it out and pulls you into that chapter like any great opening line of a well-written story.

Just one of the many vibrant and initially enigmatic images
seen in an episode's opening sequence. Such intros became
a hallmark of the show, and acted almost as primers to get
us viewers' brains warmed up.

These days, if you ask people who watch TV what the best shows of the 21st century are, chances are that Breaking Bad will be, along with The Sopranos and The Wire, among their top five. After working my way through the entire series again, I can certainly see why. While someone could nitpick here and there, the show was the work of meticulous story craft and visual tale-telling. Although it is a serious commitment to watch nearly 50 hours of an entire series, I won't be surprised if, some years down the line, I fire it all up again for a third go-round. I simply cannot come up with higher praise than that.

On a more general side note, I'm thrilled to be in a time when certain networks in the U.S., most notably HBO, AMC, and FX, have finally figured out that the greatest shows do not need to run in indefinite perpetuity, until the profits start to sag. When one looks at what most people consider the very best TV shows of this "Golden Age of Television," one notices how they had a relatively short lifespan: roughly fifty to sixty episodes. That's all. And now we're even seeing shows like Fargo, which is constructed into mostly stand-alone seasons comprised of a tight, expertly crafted ten episodes. We TV viewers are in a great spot if more networks continue to follow the example set out by shows like Breaking Bad and its brethren. 

Retro Duo, Classic Anime Edition: The Ghost in the Shell (1995); The Castle in the Sky (1986)

For whatever reason, I found myself watching several old anime classic films in the last few weeks. Like many, I went through an anime phase in my younger days, but I haven't watched much of it in the last fifteen or so years. But forces converged recently, leading me to watch a few of the titans of the genre from two to three decades ago:

The Ghost in the Shell (1995)

Director: Mamoru Oshii

A brilliant anime classic that not only still holds up, but can now be seen as amazingly prescient with its science-fiction elements.

I only saw this movie once, over two decades ago when it was still quite new. However, I was in a rather altered mental state at the time (use your imagination); this led me to be blown away at the movie while simultaneously rendering me incapable of remembering a single thing about it beyond a few indelible visuals. With the critically panned live-action movie's release a few months ago, my desire to finally rewatch the original was stoked. It was worth it.

The movie focuses on Major Motoko Kasunago, who is a mostly cybernetic organism that works for the government as a living weapon imbued with technologically enhanced strength, speed, and abilities to communicate through Internet channels. Suddenly, a rather strange case opens up - a hacker known only as "the Puppet Master" emerges and shows the ability to hack into and take over not only electronic systems but also certain other cybernetically-enhanced humans. After shaking down a few leads, the Major and her partners Batou and Togusa are sent to where their department heads have tracked down the Puppet Master, which they have discovered is actually an Artificial Intelligence program, known as Project 2501. This rogue A.I. has escaped from a security company and is now requesting asylum as a sentient, living being. The Major and 2501 eventually come together, after an intense shootout, and 2501 convinces the Major to bond with him so that they can become greater than the sum of their parts and free themselves from being "non-entities," in the eyes of those who created them.

As that summary indicates, there's more going on in this movie than just a cool sci-fi shoot-'em-up. This movie still actually holds up quite well as a work of speculative fiction, even these 22 years after its release as a film. Artificial intelligence has only become a more relevant topic, and this movie melds some of the futurist concepts of genre titans William Gibson and Philip K. Dick, along with more recent themes seen in HBO's brilliant Westworld and others of its ilk. Sure, Ghost in the Shell has some pretty awesome visuals and action sequences (it is anime, after all), but there is much more going on than the rousing visual dynamics. It honestly requires close attention if one wants to get as much as possible out of it, but the effort is worth it. It also doesn't hurt that the music score contains a haunting blend of electronics and traditional Japanese sounds.

I didn't bother with the recent live-action remake of the movie, based on trailers that didn't attract me and the lackluster reviews, and I probably won't ever bother. Not when the original still has plenty of the juice that made it an instant classic back in '95. Highly recommended for anyone who has enjoyed more sophisticated anime or science-fiction.

Flying cities. Massive sky craft. Cunning air pirates.
Giant, eco-friendly robots. This one has plenty of elements
to satisfy one's appetite for the fantastic.

The Castle in the Sky (1986)

Director: Hayao Miyazaki

One of legendary anime director Hayao Miyazaki's (Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke) earlier feature films, this one bears all of his hallmarks, which are mostly good.

The movie tells the tale of Sheeta, a young girl in possession of a small crystal coveted by a band of pirates and a mysterious group of government agents. Sheeta escapes the agents and is rescued by a village where she is discovered by Pazu, a young boy skilled in mechanics. The two flee Pazu's village and go in search of a legendary city in the sky, which has some connection to Sheeta's crystal.

The movie's strengths lie in its most fantastic elements - the dazzling, proto-steam-punk world, the various flying machines, and the cliff-hanger pursuits and escapes. Taking in the details to Pazu's home town, with its criss-crossing railroad tracks and houses built up in tiers along the sides of mountains is just as stunning as some of the beautifully crafted, large-scale scenes from the Lord of the Rings films or similarly grand movies. And the titular castle in the sky, the flying city of Laputa, is equally wondrous. Such simply invite one to wish that they could live in those places, if even for a short while.

The story also includes elements familiar to one who has seen several Miyazaki movies: wonder, thrills, and a solid dash of sadness. The story of Sheeta and Laputa is mysterious and compelling enough, and when she, Pazu, and her pursuers all arrive, it is a sight to behold. However, it is one where tragedy has unfolded, leaving it eerily quiet. I can appreciate how Miyazaki's films often take this route, as it separates it from the overly saccharine fare that one typically finds in animated family films.

I will say that the movie felt overly long. Clocking in at over two hours, there are several passages that seemed to drag, and they sometimes were made to feel longer by the silly gags and jokes that are meant more for children under the age of 12. Honestly, though, I expect that children will still appreciate this epic story, though they would likely be around age 10; I can't imagine a 6- or seven-year-old sitting through this entire movie, and the only viewers over the age of 12 who would stick with it would be those who simply enjoy animation or animein particular. 

Idiot Boxing: Castlevania, season 1 (2017); Game of Thrones, season 7 (2017)

Classic series protagonist, Trevor Belmont. We initially meet
Trevor while he's drunk in a bar, getting into a scuffle with
local morons over his family's misunderstood history as
monster-slayers.

Castlevania, season 1 (2017)

So this was the Netflix equivalent of an impulse buy of a package of Reese's Peanut Butter cups while waiting in line at the drugstore. I'm not a massive devotee of either anime or the Castlevania video game series, but both offered me more than a little entertainment in my younger days. So when I saw that Netflix had a tidy little four-episode series, I decided to give it a shot. To my surprise, it was good.

I wouldn't have been so surprised had I realized that the show was written by Warren Ellis, the wonderfully creative author of varieties of mature comic books since the early 1990s. In Castlevania, he imbues his dark wit into the deep mythology of the video game series to give us an incredibly violent and often pretty funny story pitting the forces of good against those of the arch-nemesis of the entire series, Vlad Tepec "The Impaler," also known as Dracula. The tale kicks off in a different fashion, as a young aspiring scholar approaches Dracula's castle seeking scientific knowledge that will allow her to become a healer to her village. Not only does the Count agree, being impressed by this woman's courage, but he eventually marries her and lives with her in as human a way as possible. A few years later, however, while Vlad is away on a journey, his wife is labeled a witch by the local clergy and burned at the stake. When Vlad finds out, he is none too pleased and promises to unleash his hordes of dark creatures upon the land. When this inevitably happens, the drunken former vampire-hunter Trevor Belmont is forced to shake himself out of an inebriated haze and get to work rediscovering his purpose as one of humankind's last defenses against the forces of evil.

One of the attacking demons confronts The Bishop - a zealot
whose black-and-white approach to good and evil makes
things worse. These initial episodes are a bit heavy on the
religious commentary, but I didn't mind it much at all.

This short little series serves mostly as an introduction to what promises to be a longer series of tales. In that sense, the resolution can be somewhat unsatisfying, as it merely sets up the larger confrontations promised in these initial episodes. There is also an odd arrhythmia to the pacing, which will shift from some rousing fight scenes to some overly long and wordy exchanges or even extended action sequences that are animated well but add little to the story. This latter aspect is rather strange for a season that has only four twenty-five minute episodes to it.

Still, the good outweighs the bad. The story, characters, and dialogue are quite strong. Ellis clearly wrote this for mature viewers, as he treats the Catholic church as an anti-science, anti-progressive force, and has certain characters allude to the deeper war of philosophies surrounding good and evil. The show is also quite literally violent as hell. There is more than a little imagery that is quite graphic, making this a show that I do not recommend letting your 10-year old nephew or niece watch - I don't care how much they like playing the video games. Fortunately, there is also some legitimately funny humor, thanks in no small part to a lack of language restriction. Ellis doesn't go crazy with blue language, but he uses it effectively when it punctuates a funny line here and there.

It's nice to come across a fun little show like this, which offers some fantasy/horror fun while not insulting an older viewers' intelligence. It created a the feeling like I was watching a savvy, respectful update of the classic 1985 anime Vampire Hunter D. I'm on board for upcoming seasons, especially if Ellis is penning them.

One of these "Stark" kids ain't a Stark - just one of several
long-running questions that is finally answered during this
season. 

Game of Thrones, season 7 (2017) [Spoiler-Free]

These show runners are quite simply not messing around. With this abbreviated, penultimate season of one of the most popular shows in recent TV history, we get plenty of the fireworks that have been teased and implied for the last several seasons.

The previous season ended with more than a few literal and figurative bangs. Jon is in the north, forming and leading alliances to help fend off the encroaching, undead White Walkers. Cersei has blown up all rivals in King's Landing and is ready to go on a revenge tour to end all revenge tours. Daenerys is finally on her way across the Narrow Sea with her army of Dothraki horsemen, Unsullied, and her three fully-grown dragons. It looked like we were finally heading towards the convergence of all of the most powerful figures who have emerged victorious through all of the bloody battles and secretive back-stabbings. And converge, things have.

This season had already been announced as the penultimate season of this insanely popular series. And it is abundantly clear that the show runners are steering all of the show's many moving parts towards the inevitable final clashes and ultimate conclusion in its final season. No longer are we seeing long, slow journeys across the plains of Westeros or Essos. And seemingly long gone are the more relaxed heart-to-heart conversations between various characters, both great and small. No, with this season, it is very much about trimming away any fat and getting to the business of putting Daenerys's army and dragons in position to square off against the Night King and his massive force of White Walkers. Many long-awaited reunions take place; many long-standing grudges are settled with extreme prejudice; and more than a few tertiary and secondary players in "The Game" are taken off the board, permanently.

One could raise the complaint that the storytelling rhythm picks up to an overly brisk pace, but I was never much bothered by the pace, per se. Yes, the questions about "fast travel" are legitimate, with characters appearing in far-off locales in the blink of a quick cut, but this was hardly any kind of deal-breaker for me. The only thing that irked me is that several potentially intriguing characters and plotlines have been completely jettisoned (usually in the form of a good slaying) in the name of streamlining the greater tale. Honestly, though, a show that had teased audiences for six seasons about the great showdowns needed to finally get to it. Fans of television shows have seen far too many great premises devolve into unfocused, bloated messes with too many characters, too many dangling plotlines, and a frustrating lack of focus on a primary story. Game of Thrones seems to trying to avoid all of that and get back to the relative simplicity of the very first season - Starks, Lannisters, Targaryens, and those zombies north of The Wall. At the end of this seventh season, all lesser characters and concerns have fallen in line with one of those four primary players, or they've been put six feet under ground.

Lena Headey wears the proverbial black hat of a villain as
well as any actor ever has. In this season, she starts picking
many of the bones that have accumulated around her.

I suppose it is worthwhile to address the celebrity cameos that so many people have griped about. I have to say that, on principal, I don't like the idea of using non-actor celebrities on shows, especially escapist fantasies like Game of Thrones. There's just too great a chance of it breaking the spell of suspending disbelief when I see a famous person whom I know and start thinking, "Oh hey! That's so-and-so!" The show did actually have quite a number of them this season, but I must say that most of them were extremely stealthy. The most controversial was only so because it was also the most in-your-face - the instantly-infamous Ed Sheeran appearance. Honestly, I didn't know what the singer/songwriter looked like, so it didn't bother me one whit when I watched the episode. Once I heard about it, though, I was bothered by how obvious it was. That aside, one would be hard-pressed to locate and identify the several other celebs who appear for a few brief moments here and there during the season. Hopefully the show runners learned a bit of a lesson here, and season eight doesn't give us LeBron James throwing a boulder down through a hoop and onto an enemy's head.

It now appears that we fans have quite a wait on our hands, with early reports suggesting that the eighth and final season may not appear until early 2019. For some, this may seem like an eternity. For those of us who have been longtime fans of the source novels, though, waiting a little under two years is child's play. We waited from 2001 to 2005 for the fourth book to be published, and and then until 2011 for the fifth book. It's now been over six years and still no solid word on when the next installment might arrive. Waiting is, for us, a part of the long-term "GoT" experience. But from the way that the seventh season of the show went, the relatively short two-year wait will have a solid payoff.