2005 Movie Wrap-up

It being nearly the end of January (a time when I have traditionally learned to stop writing “2005” on my checks before saying “aw shit” and using my mad calligraphy skills to turn the ‘5’ into a top-heavy ‘6’) we are already more or less 1/12th of the way through the year, so any “2005 round ups” I had planned should probably be scrapped at this point. But I’m nothing if not a persevering (and slightly belligerent) procrastinator, so for the purposes of this entry any exclamations that 2005 is long over will be met with a blank stare from me.

One of the many reasons why I started an online diary was to be able to keep track of stuff. But that was back when I had optimistically believed that I’d be updating it a lot more often than I actually do. The daily ins and outs of life make for good online diary fodder if one indeed updates daily. But when you tend to write an entry once or twice a week and consider that “a roll,” the daily stuff just looks pathetic. (Oddly enough, it’s the daily stuff that attracts me to a lot of my favorite online diaries. As any college English major will tell you if asked, it’s the daily stuff that can not only end up being called literature one day, but can even stand, centuries later, as the cornerstone by which history is studied—just look at how often the diary of Samuel Pepys [pronounced “Peeps,” by the way, which makes him even more fun to talk about] is invoked in cross-disciplinary graduate programs across the Western hemisphere and you’ll have an idea of what I mean. But unlike Pepys [whose typical sign-off at the end of most entries was “And to bed,” which still makes me laugh even 10 years after studying his work ad nauseam] or some of my favorite contemporary online diarists, I just don’t have the discipline to write every day.)

Anyway, my point is that I tend to shy away from the more mundane aspects of life. But a retrospective? That’s completely different!

So without further ado, here is a brief list of all the first-run movies I saw in 2005 (in chronological order):

Ice Princess - I first mentioned this movie here. Lap totally disagrees with my take on this movie, but as the mother of the cutest kids on earth (who are presumably at that age where they want to be ice skaters/dancers/astronauts and thus get really excited about movies like this) she is more firmly in the movie’s proposed demographic than I am—despite my insane love for Sasha Cohen. It is, after all, a Disney movie. The movie definitely had its upsides. Like Michelle Trachtenberg. And, uhhh.... Well, shit. I’m pretty sure there was something else. Guess I’ll have to watch it again.

Sin City - I first mentioned this movie here. I think I am, just now, over the intense feeling of all-consuming dread it gave me as the “Yellow Bastard” story commenced, so I’m prepared to see it again and see if I have the same reaction this time around. Probably won’t, which is a good thing. I’m also interested to see if the extended version (released on DVD after they’d already released a “regular edition” DVD some months before) is better than the theatrical version, or if it would just heighten the level of anxiety I experience when watching the movie. We’ll see....

Fever Pitch - I love Drew Barrymore. I used to love her a whole lot more (and there is a long and boring diary entry brewing in my mind concerning my one-sided love affair with Drew, but that’s a story for another time), but I still find her intriguing onscreen and a bit of an enigma in “real” life. For as much as I enjoyed Jimmy Fallon on SNL (particularly as the co-anchor of Weekend Update with the lovely Tina Fey—who needs a new partner because Amy Poehler has no sense of timing), I’m afraid his career already reached its zenith and we’re in for a lot of movies starring him that just shouldn’t have been made. Nonetheless, his chemistry with Drew was genuine and as such it worked well as a decent romantic comedy. I never would’ve guessed it’s a Farrelly Brothers movie, though.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - I loved Douglas Adams’s books when I was in middle school and vividly remember laughing out loud (which I don’t do often while reading) more than once. I’d even share certain passages with my younger brother who didn’t think they were nearly as funny as I did (probably because he didn’t get enough context, since he and I have always had nearly identical senses of humor). But I haven’t ready any of Adams’s work in years, so I don’t know if I found the movie only marginally humorous because my sense of humor has changed, or because Adams’s brand of humor doesn’t translate well once it’s lifted off the printed page. Martin Freeman did a peerless job as Arthur Dent (and really, how could you expect any less from the guy who played the beleaguered and nonplussed Tim in The Office?), Mos Def was surprisingly good as Ford Prefect (and by “surprisingly” I mean “Wow, I thought this guy was going to suck eggs!”), and Sam Rockwell is good in anything he does so his mastery of Zaphod was to be expected. But the movie itself fell flat, mostly. Perhaps it’s a story that benefits from all the ridiculous backstory of various alien (i.e., human) absurdities that take the form of endless bureaucratic merry-go-rounds, interpersonal insensitivities, and general cluelessness, of which you can include very little in a visual (and abbreviated) medium like film.

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith - I first mentioned this movie here. My opinion hasn’t changed at all, which isn’t surprising to me. And here’s some reinforcement: Despite hating every Star Wars prequel, I nonetheless bought the first and second ones on DVD as soon as they were released. This third one, which is certainly the best of the three (which of course isn’t saying much), and which has been out on DVD for a few months now, still hasn’t been bought by me. And every time I see it in Best Buy I’ll pick it up, stare at the back cover for a few seconds, then put it back on the shelf. I just don’t have the energy to put myself through it again. Fuck you, George Lucas! (It’s sad how I feel almost obligated to end with a dig at ol’ George anytime I mention him in this diary anymore...)

Batman Begins - I first mentioned this movie here. I didn’t think I’d want to see it again after seeing it in theaters, but this one’s creeping back onto my radar screen. It was definitely missing something (though I don’t know what) and it also included a few things I definitely could’ve done without (*cough* Katie Holmes! *cough*) but it was still a good take on the Batman mythos. Particularly the early scenes.

Bewitched - I first mentioned this movie here. Unlike Batman Begins, I’m pretty sure I’m never going to want to watch Bewitched again. It was merely so-so, not having much to offer in the way of either laughs or a creative take on an “old classic” (in the way that the excellent Brady Bunch movies, for example, poked fun at the various quirks present in their source material). Will Ferrell needs to step it up.

Fantastic Four - I first mentioned this movie here. I’ll admit I’m kind of interested in seeing this one again, too. Not because of Jessica Alba (I know! I’m as shocked as you are) or because I’ve revised my original opinion and now think it’s a spectacular superhero movie, but because of Chris Evans’s energetic performance as Johnny Storm. He made the movie fun, plain and simple.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - I first mentioned this movie here. Tim Burton is currently working on a biopic of Ripley, as in “Ripley’s Believe It or Not.” Need I say more? The man has lost what little edge he had back in the days of Beetle Juice and Mars Attacks!. And I have no idea why he’s so stuck on directing remakes recently. You know what I’d love to see? I’d love to see Tim Burton direct a remake of Black Sunday and get back to his roots. Now that would be a weird movie....

The Wedding Crashers - I first mentioned this movie here. It has occurred to me that many of Vince Vaughn’s films are completely disposable. He plays the same dude in every single movie, so why bother checking out his latest, right? I’d also like to reiterate that this movie committed the cardinal sin of misusing the freakiest man alive, Christopher Walken.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith - It’s been pretty clear to me all along why Brad Pitt dumped Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie, but this movie just made his reasons all that much more vivid. Jennifer’s film output is pretty sad, and that’s putting it mildly. What does she have to offer? Rumor Has It... and Rock Star (though I will hold judgment on Derailed until I’ve seen it because whether it’s actually good or not, Clive Owen is one serious badass). Meanwhile, Angelina Jolie’s starred in.... Well, okay, never mind. Her movies tend to suck even more than Jennifer’s but still! Anyway, my favorite thing about Mr. and Mrs. Smith was definitely Adam Brody (a.k.a. Seth Cohen on The O.C.) sporting a Fight Club T-shirt while getting punched in the head by Angelina Jolie. Cute.

Must Love Dogs - I first mentioned this movie here. Probably the worst movie I have ever seen in a theater. Not counting Godzilla (the Matthew Broderick version).

The Dukes of Hazzard - I first mentioned this movie here. What a dumb, dumb movie. But man, that car is awesome. Ta dah.

Serenity - I first mentioned this movie here. Not much more to say, except that I’m disappointed it didn’t do well enough to necessarily warrant a sequel and/or a revival of the television show. But at least it launched Joss Whedon out of small-screen entertainment and into big-screen entertainment. I can’t wait to see his take on Wonder Woman.

Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit - If I’m being honest, this is the best movie I saw all year. It was both hilarious and oddly thrilling at times. It was so funny, in fact, that the “nuts” gag near the end made me laugh so hard I nearly fell out of my chair. Disney should take notes.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - I still like the books better than the films, but this movie had two things going for it. (a) It wasn’t directed by Chris “I’m only slightly less boring a filmmaker than Ron Howard” Columbus, and (b) it was funny enough that I felt like the franchise finally felt comfortable breaking out of the books a bit. And that’s key for any adaptation. Those kids sure don’t look 14 anymore, though.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - I’m glad this movie exists for one reason only, and this is that reason. I wasn’t a big fan of the Narnia books as a kid (my favorite was The Horse and His Boy, but I never even read Voyage of the Dawn Treader or The Last Battle) so I have no opinion on how faithful or unfaithful it was to the book. On the contrary, I felt as if it were too faithful. It was very serious and very methodical and not very much fun. The kids weren’t bad, but they weren’t good either. And Aslan looked too much like a real lion, which may seem like an idiotic criticism but I recall his look in the cartoon version (circa 1979) as much more empathetic and relatable. He is, after all, a talking lion.

King Kong - The last movie I saw in 2005, and one I had been looking forward to practically since 2004. I think mcearstix put it best when she said “were you in a situation that you casually watch, you would be stricken, panic penetrating your entrails. films allow us to separate ourselves from empathy, with sympathy, to view violence as glamorous and alluring.” It took forever for this movie to get going, and by the time it “got there” I felt completely disconnected from what was happening onscreen. Ultimately, King Kong (the gorilla, not the movie as a whole) made me cry twice, but neither instance occurred at a time when he was fighting or being shot at or even when he died. My absolute favorite scene was the Central Park scene, in which King Kong experiences ice for the first time. I think the rest of the theater was groaning and pleading for the action to resume (we were, after all, approaching hour number three), but I wish there had been more moments like that.

And so, to wrap up, here were my top five favorite movies of 2005:
(1) Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
(2) Serenity
(3) Sin City
(4) King Kong
(5) Batman Begins

I’d tell you which were my least favorite, but it probably goes without saying, huh? (Screw you, George Lucas!)

Feather Backpack

Skating with Celebrities. Despite its stupid name (“celebrities”? Could they be less specific, please?), I tuned in because—based on the commercials—I was expecting a different kind of reality show. I’ve never tried to figure skate myself but I’ve watched enough of it to know that it can’t be easy. So I figured the first few episodes would focus on the training of the “celebrities” (that’s the last time I’ll use scare quotes around ‘celebrities,’ but please do me a favor and visualize them yourself from now on for my sake. Thanks) and show just how hard it is to learn how to do even the simplest move. Great idea for a show, right?

Nope.

After 30 seconds of set-up (wherein each celebrity was shown practicing with his/her professional partner and had a chance to exclaim “Wow, this is harder than I thought it would be!”) the show launched right into the performances. Is reality TV already so structured and standardized that shows can’t deviate from the norm at all? (I guess all performance-based competition shows must follow the American Idol formula, all nonperformance-based competition shows must follow the Survivor formula, and everything else must follow the formula set up by the granddaddy of all reality shows, The Real World. Then, if a show fails it’s because the show was a bad idea—not because it was forced into the wrong formula, I guess.)

Here’s my complaint. Figure skating is a hard sport, and while doing it well takes years of practice, doing it marginally well is hardly a piece of cake. So it’s impressive that Bruce Jenner (a 55-year-old man with a history of knee surgeries) can hold his partner up by the waist or spin in sequence without falling. But it doesn’t make for very exciting television.

I can’t know for sure (since they didn’t show too much of it) but there must be so much more drama inherent in the training, don’t you think? I could be wrong (I’m no TV executive, after all), but that’s what I wanted to see. After all, a polished but low-difficulty performance is going to be boring.

That said, I still have my favorites. Jillian Barberie (a sports celebrity of some sort) and her partner, John Zimmerman, were pretty good. Jillian’s approach to learning to skate was, “If I’m not falling, I don’t think I’m trying hard enough,” which seemed almost Taoist in its apparent nonsensical illogic (and which clearly pissed John off a bit, since he was worried she was going to brain herself on the ice), but it worked. Their performance was the most dynamic.

Debbie Gibson and Kurt Browning are my favorites, though. Jillian’s attitude might give her more chutzpah than Debbie, but the chemistry between Debbie and Kurt is unmistakable. (And I’ve always appreciated Kurt anyway—he’s such a gentleman.)

Unfortunately, Kristy Swanson is not cut out for figure skating (or even faking it), Todd Bridges seemed more interested in dancing than skating (clearly he’s on the wrong reality show), and Dave “I’m Bullwinkle!” Coulier—being from the Canuck hockey school of skating—actually ground the toe picks off his skates. So that may indicate to you how skilled he is at moves that require a little stability.

Off the ice I’m very happy to see my mom’s favorite, Scott Hamilton, as an announcer, but he sounded really hoarse in the premiere episode. (Hopefully this will clear up for subsequent episodes.) But most exciting of all is John Nicks as one of the judges.

See, John is the coach of Sasha Cohen, my all-time favorite figure skater. It’s pretty cool to hear him talk about what the skaters are doing wrong (i.e., he’s the Simon Cowell of the show), because now I can imagine what kind of shit Sasha must go through during her practices.

Speaking of Sasha, she was the guest judge on this week’s Project: Runway because the designers were creating a dress for her to wear at an exhibition. As Julie and I walked into her apartment Wednesday night I saw Julie’s roommate watching the show in the family room. “Are they designing a skating costume?” I asked. The answer was yes. Could it be for Sasha Cohen? I asked myself. You bet it could!

As you may guess I parked my ass right in front of the TV when I learned that little tidbit of information. I missed the first half but Sasha had this great moment where she demurely described Santino’s dress as looking like it had a massive feather backpack attached to it (or something like that). My god she’s too cute for words. And seriously, that Santino guy needs to start designing dresses for people, not his own weird idea of what a dress should be.

He also needs to take a fucking shower.

Seriously, man. Nobody cares except you.

Who’s missing from this picture of the just-named American figure skating team for the 2006 Winter Olympics?

Two people, actually. The first is Emily Hughes, who won the bronze medal at the National Championships (which is where this picture was taken).

The second is Michelle Kwan, who is taking Emily’s place on the Olympic team. Not because Emily dropped out or sustained an injury, but because apparently we can’t go to the Olympics without Michelle friggin’ Kwan in tow.

Kwan Decision Shrouded in Mystery

Never mind that Michelle hasn’t won a gold medal at the Winter Olympics in the two previous times she’s been there (she placed second in ’98 and third in ’02). Never mind that in her last significant competition (the 2005 World Championships) she placed fourth—behind inspirational-sports-story-in-3-D Irina Slutskaya, perennial underdog Sasha Cohen, and so-so Italian Carolina Kostner—to illustrate just how little she is prepared for the new scoring system in place for international figure skating. Never mind that she didn’t even show up at the U.S. Championships (because of a groin injury) and had to formally petition the international skating association to consider her for the Olympic team.

The point is that Michelle has been to the Olympics twice already—whether she won or not (and her track record at those two events could be used as an argument either way regarding the merits of a third try for her). On the other hand, this may be Emily Hughes’s only shot at the Olympics. And sure, she may not be much of a threat to the competition (which should, of course, be the deciding factor in who gets to compete), but then that’s what everyone said about her sister Sarah, who went on to skate one of the most amazing long programs I’ve ever seen in order to win the gold at the 2002 Olympics.

It’s not like Kwan has been cheated out of her Olympic dreams. She already had two chances and they just didn’t work out for her. No one can say she was robbed. Yet here she is basically destroying the Olympic dreams of a 16-year-old girl (who, by winning the bronze, earned a place on the Olympic team as far as I'm concerned) just so she can have a third shot at the gold. No one gets that many chances at the Olympics, do they? Ugh. I wish she’d just retire already....

Of course, what really bothers me is that this was my girl Sasha Cohen’s first U.S. National Championship gold medal, but all anyone could talk about after the competition was Kwan’s inclusion on the Olympic team. As if Sasha doesn’t get overshadowed enough by Kwan’s legacy, now Kwan is upstaging her when they aren’t even in the same building. Bah!

P.S. If Michelle Kwan skates to “Fields of Gold” during her Olympic exhibition again, I’m going to vomit. Right after I yell at her (via the TV screen) for being simultaneously arrogant and tacky.

Cerebus Wee-wees in the Sink

Something you should know about me is that despite my oftentimes quite adamant (though strictly implied) distaste for numerous aspects of popular culture, I am a complete sycophant when it comes to celebrities. If you asked me right now, in the comfort of my own home, how I would react if I encountered Britney Spears or some other foolish-but-famous individual that my rational inner voice loathes, I would claim, proudly, that I would walk right by her without a second glance. The unfortunate truth, however, is that I’d absolutely stop, stare, and probably take a picture if I happened to have a camera with me. Then, later, after the giddy flush of proximity had worn off, I’d display the picture in my office in the hopes that some colleague would notice it and ask about it so that I could talk shit about this totally obnoxious famous person I’d seen on the street one day.

(I should insert a David Foster Wallace-style footnote here to mention that—as long as I haven’t just read an article about how Katie Holmes literally knelt down to worship her new brainwashing boyfriend, Tom Cruise, at the 2005 MTV Movie Awards, or about how Paris Hilton tried to copyright the phrase “that’s hot,” etc.—I honestly tend to believe that it’s not necessary to ruthlessly insult some of our more clueless celebrities such as Carson Daly or Jennifer Lopez. It’s not a crime to be dimwitted or insensitive or flashy or shallow or trampy or rich and popular despite having no talent whatsoever. But there are times when these people really bother me. I suppose it’s jealousy.)

In 1984, when I was 11, I remember being in awe when my parents returned from their trip to Terre Haute and told me that they had met Ronald Reagan. It was nothing more than a handshake, but still it impressed me. That was the point at which it became clear to me that meeting persons of world renown was not out of the realm of possibility.

Nonetheless, it took me a while to meet one myself. Southern Indiana, as you may have guessed, isn’t exactly a hotbed of celebrity activity. During my middle- and high school years there were frequent rumors that Harrison Ford (who just happened to be my favorite actor from about 1980 to 1994) was lurking in the Union Hotel because the Dalai Lama’s brother (a retired Indiana University professor) had founded the Tibetan Cultural Center in my hometown and thus attracted a handful of famous spiritually minded individuals. An acquaintance of mine in high school who worked as a busboy at the hotel once claimed to have literally run into Harrison Ford while carrying a stack of room service trays to the kitchen, but I have no way of confirming this.

In the end (or the beginning, I suppose), Dave Sim was the first famous person I met.

If you just said “Who?” to yourself, you’re probably not alone and that’s okay. But meeting Dave Sim was a landmark moment for me. It was the summer of ’92 and Dave was deep into his “Cerebus U.S. Tour.” You see, Cerebus is this independent comic book Dave Sim wrote and drew, and at the time he had just passed the halfway point of the book’s entire span (i.e., he was 150 issues into its projected 300-issue run). If you’re not a comics fan this may not mean much to you, but at a time when most comic book shops stocked hundreds of Marvel books, hundreds of DC books, and then three or four totally random independent books—on the dustiest shelf in the darkest corner of the store, no less—Dave Sim was not just a folk hero, he was a self-publishing god. Moreover, Cerebus was funny. Hilarious, even. In short, it was my favorite comic book at the time.

(David Foster Wallace-style footnote #2: Sadly, the second half of Cerebus did not even begin to live up to the first half, and in subsequent years I would lose interest in Dave Sim altogether. He finally reached the 300th issue last year—nearly 30 years after he began Cerebus—and I did read it, but wow what a chore. It’s frustrating, because Cerebus had the potential to become the greatest independent comic book ever created. Instead, it’s kind of like The X-Files. It started off great but eventually forgot what it was supposed to be about and rambled aimlessly for a while until it finally succeeded in becoming a completely different kind of story. And a laborious one at that.)

But all that is irrelevant. At the time, like I mentioned, I thought Dave Sim was a total Renaissance man, and one well worth meeting. So I stood in line for an hour outside the Twenty-fifth Century Five and Dime comic book store, waiting patiently for my turn to ask Dave to sign a few books.

I don’t know what I was expecting, since I’d never been to a book signing before, but Dave certainly surpassed whatever expectations I might’ve had. He didn’t just take the books out of my hands, scribble his name in them, and hand them back without a word. Instead, he engaged me in a little conversation (though I have no recollection now what we talked about), told me he had no plans to make a Cerebus plush doll (à la the very popular Bloom County Opus doll at the time), expressed surprise at seeing my copy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #8 (which guest starred Cerebus), signed my Cerebus “phonebooks” (or trade paperbacks, so nicknamed because they were printed on newsprint and are quite thick) with hilarious little doodles, then pulled out a giveaway “Cerebus: The First Half” poster and asked me which character I wanted him to sketch on it. This last bit took me by surprise and I panicked. After a moment’s hesitation I said, “Cerebus, please.” (If I’d had more time to think about it I would’ve requested Jaka, whose story really affected me the most in the entire Cerebus saga. But Dave’s Cerebus sketch turned out quite nicely and I was so happy with it that I framed the poster a few days later. It still hangs on my wall today.)

Here’s my favorite autograph from Dave, which he did that day. What makes it so special is because it references events inside the book and made me laugh out loud once I realized what he was doing. See, Cerebus is running for Prime Minister (long story) and he and his chief rival, Elrod, begin sketching trees and bunnies, respectively, in an effort to win votes (and this little episode in the book also happens to be a comment on the plight of comic book creators who attend conventions and/or signings—so Dave’s use of it in autographs is nothing short of brilliant):

It’s kind of hard to explain. But lap knows it’s funny—right lap?

In the end, I have to say that—of all the “celebrities” I’ve met—Dave Sim treated his fans with the utmost respect. He seemed to really enjoy meeting the people who read his work, and did his best to make sure that we felt his appreciation. (Just ask lap, who got a bit of smooching action from the infamous ladies’ man one time.) I remember a little anecdote Dave told in one of the Cerebus letters columns about this time one of his signings was really crowded and he felt badly about the amount of time people had to wait in line, so at one point he got up and walked down the line, shaking everybody’s hand and saying things like “Dave Sim for president,” just to give people a little laugh. (Apparently most of the people in line just stared at him blankly when he did this, but still—it’s the thought that counts.)

When I met him again in 1996, at the first (and last) M.A.L.E. convention (I forget what the initials past ‘M’ [for “Massachusetts”] stood for, but it was such a poorly attended convention in the middle of nowhere that frankly it doesn’t bear remembering), I was at that point working in comics myself and had met my fair share of big-name comic creators, so the awe wasn’t quite as, uh, awesome. But as he was drawing me a sketch of Cerebus dreaming about Jaka (for free no less, something that just isn’t done by most comic artists—famous or not), I told him how much I’d appreciated his attention to the fans back in ’92. And when he said something like, “Well, I really enjoy doing it,” I could tell that he really did enjoy doing it. So thanks for that, Dave. You’re a prince.

Unlike Cerebus, who was always a total dick.

Along the same lines of “taking care of his fans,” Dave also provided three original cartoons for Bloomington’s three newspapers when he came to town (the above for the free Bloomington Voice, our modest town’s “alternative” paper).

This one was for the college newspaper. I’m sure Dave reused this theme for each university town he visited—and just changed the logo on the sweatshirt—but even so, this was before the age of easy digital manipulation, so this piece of art is 100 percent original, I’m sure. I wonder who has it now?

This was for Bloomington’s “actual” newspaper, and is definitely the funniest. (It also shows that Dave either did his homework before visiting Bloomington or happens to be a college basketball fan. Which, he being Canadian, seems unlikely.) If you’re not either from the midwest or a college basketball fan then you probably don’t understand this one. But trust me, it’s hilarious.