Saturday, July 3, 2010
At some point, the dominant narrative coming out of E3 became something like "normal people are going to love this new motion sensor crap; hardcore gamers are just being haters because they are fat slobs who disdain movement and sweating."
The thing is, I already do lots of flailing and sweating...at the gym. When I come home from the gym, I want to shoot Nazi zombies in the face while splayed upon the couch in a digitally-induced stupor. If Sony, Nintendo, or Microsoft could design a discrete, spill-proof bedpan and a robot to feed me grapes during loading screens, now that would seriously improve my gaming experience. And it's not as though home video game exercise is going to replace real exercise, which requires sufficient space and/or equipment, and more importantly, movements that have little if anything to do with video game actions. It's not as if I can get a Kinect and then suddenly cancel my gym membership. Gaming is a certain kind of experience and exercise is a certain kind of experience, and while combining them can be fun in certain, limited situations (Wii tennis) it will usually be a dilution of both. They already sell televisions welded to exercise equipment, and it certainly hasn't revolutionized how most people watch TV. I'm doubtful, too, that it has resulted in more people exercising.
In short, if a first-person shooter ever tries to make me actually run to shoot something, I will punch it in the face, pick up a Tom Clancy novel, and crawl into bed.
Monday, June 14, 2010
2. B.A. Baracus isn't just a magical black man; he has a magical black van that materializes in the desert when the white guys need rescuing, and then is promptly destroyed for a cheap emotional beat as soon as they no longer need it.
3. In two separate scenes, fake dramatic tension is created by the characters' inexplicable refusal to simply move laterally out of harm's way. Nothing is preventing them from moving laterally except the movie's need for them to almost die so that we will have a reason in Hell to care about what happens to them.
4. Movies like these (dubbed "radtarded" by AS) often find me rooting for the villain because, due to poor plotting, he is usually the smartest person on screen. His victories come from considerable effort on his part and not from things magically occurring to his benefit. Heroes are much more likely to get undeservedly lucky because the movie needs them to succeed, but no one could be bothered to figure out why exactly they would.
5. This movie had eleven writers.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
2. The Prestons' Great Recession Horror Story is to have moved from the palatial penthouse suite into a more modestly mansion-like apartment twelve floors down. The camera shots are designed to show us the thrifty narrowness of their fifty bajillion damask-draped rooms. Not for the last time, I find myself thinking this is sort of what Versailles looked like, before the pitchforks and beheadings. Of course, they still keep Carrie's old apartment, which essentially functions as her (second) giant walk-in closet. Like ya do.
3. This is a movie about Americans traveling in the Middle East, and not once does a single person utter the word "war." Apparently the “New Middle East” is actually an alternate dimension lacking in shoulder-mounted, surface-to-air, anti-aircraft missile launchers, IEDs, and armed conflict in general.
4. Speaking of explosives, every time we see shots of those four white cars driving in caravan through the desert, I hope that one of them will blow up and this will turn into an entirely different kind of movie. Maybe the kidnappers will send Big a ridiculous beplumed shoe or atrocious hat as proof of life.
5. Remind me when I’m married to occasionally cheat on my husband, so that he’ll buy me jewelry intended to serve as a kind of gaudy choke chain for reminding me that I’m married.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
(1) Any superlative group of killers (the deadliest, the sexiest, the tidiest) will invariably include one woman and one black man, and these two will almost always be flanking a good-looking white guy.
(2) Two of these people will probably have sex, and the other will probably die, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure how this shakes out demographically.
(3) The woman will have managed to succeed in her traditionally male-dominated profession by having shed some stereotypical aspect of her femininity, like romance or empathy. But not breasts. Never breasts.
I was at the grocer after work and a woman came toward me, walking right past a man with an actual child, and asked me where the diapers were. My cart at the time contained potato chips, ice, and bourbon. I wonder, did I look like the kind of person who should know where the diapers are, let alone a person who would know? The answer is yes, because I have lady parts, and being female apparently trumps having actual offspring in the domestic credentials department.
To anyone who refers to Sex and the City as "the ladies' Star Wars," this lady's Star Wars is STAR WARS.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
2. Idris Elba seems to spend a lot of time at work talking to his wife, hanging out with his wife, and doing stuff for his wife. When he's not doing that, he's exchanging generic man-chatter with Jerry O'Connell, and making up financial gibberish. Stringer Bell would never have put up with such inefficiency.
3. All the screeching violins in the world will not make the act of trying to close a pop-up window a moment of high drama.
4. As someone who routinely fantasizes about killing home invaders, I have trouble finding fault with Beyoncé's actions in the climactic scene.
5. I take it back. I'm going to start a facebook group called "1,000,000 strong for letting the bad guy fall to his death." When a movie sets up good versus bad in such hamfistedly stark terms, we should at least be spared the Disney villain death. Blondie is an irredeemable nutjob, putative kidnapper, rapist, and attempted murderer. Trying to save this terrible person's life doesn't make Beyoncé look noble; it makes her look stupid.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
(1) "Let's eat, Grandma!" versus "Let's eat Grandma!"
(2) "Jack the giant-killer" versus "Jack the giant killer!"
(3) "Eighteen-year-old males needed for adult film," versus "Eighteen year-old males needed for adult film."