Final Destination 5

Guilty pleasure. If there was ever a time to apply that label to something, this would be it. If you know me, you realize that I have this weird obsession, and I can't put a finger on why. This series of movies are over the top, and completely ridiculous. They are also incredibly entertaining.

They each follow the same formula, more or less: a group of young folk are in a situation, when one of them has a vision of an elaborate, horrible accident. In the first movie, it's a group of kids getting on a plane. The one guy has a vision of the plane exploding. After the vision, they freak out, of course, and proceed to abandon where they were and hence, avoid their deaths. But Death doesn't take kindly to being cheated, so he proceeds to kill everyone - one-by-one - until they are all in the ground as originally intended.

The intro "accident" is akin to the old James Bond pre-song sequence. Each movie in the Bond series had this elaborate, stunt-filled sequence that served as the intro to the movie. To me, the Final Destination sequence is the same kind of thing, except it takes place fifteen minutes in (after the useless character introductions/background) and lasts another good fifteen to twenty minutes. Each movie has to find a way to outdo the previous one. The last hour of the film is watching those characters die in absolutely horrible ways.

I probably haven't done it justice, and that's alright. It's one of those things you just have to see for yourself. Watching people die doesn't sound very enjoyable, but the movies bring it into the comical realm. They're interesting because they're so "elaborate." The death is inevitable, but how is it going to go down? What may seem obvious doesn't turn out to be, as the scene takes a different direction. There is tons of gore for good measure, then we quickly move onto the next. 

While I was at home sick the other day I decided to put number five on, and I realized while watching it how easily these people die. A head gets crushed (and completely explodes), people get decapitated, sheered in half or have rods blasted through their head. It's quite gruesome, really, but then you have to keep in mind that Death working his magic here: how else would a laser-eye surgery machine get turned way up to a point where it melts your eyeball? Rack it up to Death: he makes it happen.

Then I realized, who is giving these people the visions? Their deaths are inescapable, and doesn't really serve as a vehicle that could be used to avoid death in the future. Sure, you get a few extra days of life, but your end is right there. Not only that, but if you're one of the people at the end, you realize that at any moment some freak accident will wipe you out. And it's going to be painful. If we accept that Death has a plan, and is doing what he is doing, is it safe to assume then, that God is also out there? I thought perhaps He was providing the visions, but that would mean he's in on the joke, which doesn't seem his style. No, God just lets Death do whatever he wants. But perhaps that's just reading way too much into it; these movies don't need that much thought allocated to them: they're senseless, amusing, quick and dirty. Can't wait for the next one!

Sphere

Last Christmas I thought it would be a good idea to pick up a few old, used books for my father, who loves reading. I wanted to pick up a bunch of Ludlam's Bourne books, and I did. I snagged a few other items at the same time, then I found a book that really stood out: Sphere, by Michael Crichton. It's an original (first edition? I'm not sure) hardcover edition complete with dust jacket, all of which was in great shape. I picked it up for myself, wrapped it up for Christmas and was happy to open it up Christmas morning. Nobody in my family remembered buying it for me, but that's the way sometimes in our holiday.

Now, for those of you who know me, will realize that I absolutely love the movie adaptation of Sphere. My sister bought the DVD for me for me many Christmases ago, and upon first viewing I knew it was right up my alley. Combine that, and that I really do enjoy a good Crichton book, and it just makes sense for me read the book. But for whatever, it would take me a full year to get around to reading it. And read it I did: after just a few sittings I blasted through the book, loving every page of it.

It was incredibly enjoying: I've watched the movie quite a few times so I have an idea of what's going to happen, but as is always the case, the books expands on every aspect, from the characters, basic plot, to - most importantly - the concepts, ideas and the power.

I've seen quite a few science fiction movies, many of which depicting alien life - often, it's a disappointment for whatever reason. Perhaps it's not how you envisioned them; perhaps the special effects weren't doing it justice. And this book kind of addresses the entire first contact situation; I find it extremely fascinating. Norman's report to the government outlines the entire thing, recommending specific people and expertises that should be present. They discuss quite often the probability that aliens would be humanoid (not likely) or even in a form that we can comprehend. They bring along a mathematician because we all assume that the common language for all intelligent life will be math. Right? Makes sense. 2 + 2 is always 4? But what if other life doesn't use math...what if the only sense we have in common is smell. How do you communicate on that? The possibilities are endless, and a little depressing, really. I want to believe. I always have wanted but sometimes the numbers are so stacked against you; in these cases it's good to remain hopeful. Which is why I love this movie and book. As negative as the probabilities are, here we are, presented with an alien situation.

In fact, the question of what the sphere is never truly answered and that's perfect. Is it alien? They allude to the idea that the sphere was collected - in the future - and brought back. It gives people who enter it the power, of which is never fully explained either. How could it? The power itself is never fully understood, aside that it will bring your thoughts to reality. With great power comes great responsibility, and Crichton demonstrates that the human race is not prepared for something of this magnitude. What we're presented with here is an alien that is neither good nor evil: it remains neutral throughout, simply sitting there. Not really mocking, nor taunting, not even encouraging, or pushy. It acts as almost as an amplifier of our own feelings and desires. We're explorers at heart, curious and emotional. The sphere brings it all out.

Crichton always has a way of making you believe everything he writes. The details are obviously researched, but remain entrenched in fiction. The line between the two is blurred; there's certainly a reason why Jurassic Park was as popular as it was. I read that in grade six and truly believed dinosaurs could be cloned; even to this day it seems like a pretty simple process, right? The same goes with everything presented here, which is mainly the underwater habitat, and the ability to fly through a black hole to travel through time. It's all so reasonable when you're reading it in his words.

I was engrossed from the first few pages; the book is fast paced - a much better pace than the movie. In fact you can see where the movie falls flat: leaving out extra characters, situations, philosophy and science. But it's all good really, I love both of them. It's a quick read, and I highly recommend it.

Star Trek: The Next Generation

When you watch television, and specific shows in particular, do you just go all in? Push your chips into the centre of the table and don't look back; there's no going back here. I was at a party a few years ago and one of my friend's said he obtained all seventeen seasons of ER, and proceeded to watch them all. And when you say "watch them all" you have to keep in mind that it's not a slow process taking place over years; no, this is watching hundreds of hour long episodes within a few weeks, or perhaps months. I did this with the first three seasons of Smallville, and many other shows. The main difference between those shows, and something like The Next Generation, is that you're often getting caught up on a show - a few seasons at worst. TNG has seven seasons, with more than 20 episodes in each. I believe I read that there were 178 episodes altogether. It's scary, and it's taken hold of me.

The show premiered in 1987, when I was six years old. I have a specific memory of laying on the floor, playing with my toys - most likely Lego - in front of the television as my parents watched Star Trek on the set behind me. I would occasionally look back, taking in bits of action here and there. My favourite was Data, of course. I specifically recall the scene where he was quickly moving chips back into some array at super-human speed, in order to save the Enterprise. This scene would be burned into my subconscious forever. Over the years, and as I got older I would watch the show more regularly, but honestly, it was never a big focus. My dad was really into it, although not as much as The Original Series. I have a separate bank of memories devoted to my dad watching TOS on Sunday afternoons while I came and went; I'm pretty sure he tried to get me to watch it, but just never took.

We would share a love for Q (and much to my horror he wasn't in as many episodes as I thought originally). We would watch the movies: the Wrath of Khan, the Voyage Home and Undiscovered Country. I remember watching the premier of Deep Space Nine together, and although it was perhaps in the back of my mind all this time, but I realize now how big a part of my life Star Trek was. It's been on air for ages, and the majority of my life (at least one series or another, ending with Enterprise). In university one of my roomates decided to watch all of Deep Space Nine: it was on the same time every day, and if it was one thing we had back then, was lots of time. I have no idea if he completed it. I've tried doing the same thing on "live tv" before but sometimes things come up and you miss an episode: if you didn't record it there was no chance of going back. I believe another friend would watch Voyager constantly too.

So here I am, with access to the entire series and the desire to keep it going. You see, you need something to watch in the background. Making dinner, and want to watch something between breaks? The Next Generation is there for you. These shows have so much filler it doesn't matter if you pay attention to everything; typically you are fine if you watch the intro, then the conclusion. Basically, they don't require much dedication, and on the other side, it's easy to fall into the episodes. Just geeky and technical enough to be enjoyable, and all the right parts of drama to appeal to the rest of my sensibilities. As I watch various episodes, I have bits of nostalgia burst forth as I recall certain scenes from childhood.

I look forward to consuming the entire series, really experiencing it for the show it was. It's kind of weird too, as I watch the grainy 4:3 image I think about how far the tech has come. Not only in the show, but in how we watch television. My parent's television in the 80s (and most of the 90s) was a 25 or 27 inch (very) curved tube of questionable quality, but impeccable build quality - this thing was built to last. It weighed a ton, and sat on the floor in its wooden house. A giant VCR sat on top, with a potted plant on top of that; occasionally we would have to brush a vine away from the screen. Classic.

Super Gold Controller Club

Does anyone else remember the Nintendo Super Power Club? The way you got in was buying issues of Nintendo Power; I had a subscription to the magazine from around 1990 through 1997. After a while you were kind of enrolled in this club - or cult, which is more like Nintendo's style - and through this, you were able to spend even more money on Nintendo products. Now, it's not the same as the current Club Nintendo, where you register your purchases and get rewards (at least, I don't believe so. There were proof of purchase tags on games and things, I think?). In any event, there are two elements to the inevitable story:

1. You would receive "Power Stamps" every so often in your subscription to the magazine;
2. You could redeem those stamps towards goods in a catalogue of neat products that would arrive periodically.

I'm a collector by nature, so I held onto these stamps for ages. I cut them out and had them in a drawer in my bedroom, safely sealed away and remembered their location to a higher degree than any GPS could offer now. I believe it was 1996, or 1997, that Goldeneye was coming out on the Nintendo 64. Around this time the magazine offered a special, limited edition N64 controller: it was all gold (coloured, mind you). I believe it was a celebration of some anniversary (100th issue of Nintendo Power), and it coincided nicely into the Goldeneye game that had taken over our lives at the time. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I saved up around forty of these precious stamps, which was enough to cover the cost of this precious controller entirely.

Filling out all the forms, and putting the pile of stamps together, I sent away for the controller. I was beaming: this was exciting. There were never very many opportunities back then to get a hold of limited edition video game stuff. I eagerly awaited by the mailbox for weeks, until one day, a wild envelope from Nintendo appears. It was an envelope, a small rectangular, carefully folded piece of paper, containing nothing but more paper. There were no electronics inside.

Running upstairs, I ripped the "package" open and read the letter inside. It was grim. I didn't include enough power stamps to cover the cost of the controller. The details escape me, but I swear I was only two or three short. Was it the taxes that killed me? Did I miscount the stamps? These things allude me to this day, but the fact was: I had to give them more money. I don't remember how, exactly - perhaps my parents wrote a cheque for the difference, perhaps I tumbled a bunch of quarters in) - but I sent it off again, and waited through more weeks of anguished excitement.

Another envelope appears. They are out of stock.

There was nothing more crushing at the time. This limited edition was limited and I missed the boat. They sent me brand new power stamps, but they were worthless to me. A short time later I think the Power Club or whatever it was, was dissolved and any opportunity to use them vanished. They still exist in a box somewhere, I'm sure, but I couldn't tell you exactly.

Fast forward more than a dozen years later and Nintendo is releasing a gold Classic Controller for the Wii, bundled with the Goldeneye remake. Of course, I buy it immediately, but it's not satisfying. I'm not sure obtaining the original N64 gold controller would make me happy anymore. I got over the loss, right? What reminds me of this is doing the pre-order for Skyward Sword, that includes the gold Wii-mote. My younger self momentarily took control in the games shop and with access to disposable income - something missing when I was a teenager - I was able to secure the newest gold controller without any doubt. I picked it up on release day, opened the package and held it in my hand. I flipped it around, looked at the decals on the front, then returned the controller to its box. That box was closed up and put on the shelf. I'm unsure at this point if I'll ever play the game, or even use that gold controller. But I can rest easy knowing it's there, and knowing that that gold N64 is out there too: for the right price.

Our Idiot Brother

This movie looked stupid. Well, perhaps idiotic. I'm not sure, but I think it was meant to be that way. The trailer flew under my radar, dismissed as mere comedic fodder thrown against the juggernauts that are summer blockbusters. It certainly doesn't help that it came out near the end of the summer, just about the time I stopped going to the theatre - although in saying that I realize that it would be unlikely that I would take in this movie at the theatre, unless it was part of a double feature paired with a more desirable movie. Sometimes it's how you find those hidden gems.

So it's Paul Rudd, as an idiot (Ned) - I suppose - who gets himself in trouble - because he's an idiot - and the movie proceeds to write itself afterwards, right? In re-watching the trailer, I'm surprised to see that it doesn't give everything away, but it also makes me wonder what could make this movie stand above the rest, and indeed, there isn't anything, save for Ned's incredibly beautiful sisters. I mean incredible. Go spend some time on Google doing an image search. I'll wait.

Zoeey, say no more. Elizabeth Banks? Please. Emily Mortimer? More, thank you. You want Rashida Jones? Here you go. I think the only reason I put this onto the radar, and was (slightly) excited to watch it was because of the trifecta above (Jones isn't one of the sisters, so I guess she doesn't count. Not sure why, don't argue). So back onto the plot synopsis: Ned gets himself in trouble with the law, goes to jail and is released early on good behaviour. Of course, he's a bit of a carefree hippy, and jail presumably fits him fine: it doesn't affect his laid back attitude, which gets on the nerves of his sisters. He is pushed to live with each sister one after another, as he seemingly destroys some aspect of their lives with his "idiot-ness."

But it's not all idiot, of course. Ned has redeeming qualities that pulls everyone together, but more importantly allows people to see in another way. He's not actually an idiot: he's simple, loving and just looks at things differently. It's all very touching, yes, and decently funny, but nothing special.