3:10 to Yuma

"I hate posses"

It's a simple line from a seemingly simple movie, yet it sticks with you. Or, at least with some people. I shoot the quote in a text to my pal Cale and within moments he's regurgitating quotes from the film back to me, text after text. It's uncanny. Every so often, I make an attempt to stump the guy as I casually catch an "older" film but I fail over and over with what I perceive as a fairly obscure quote. It's just not in me to remember them: I've never been one to memorize song lyrics either, but I'll certainly recognize a great quote when I hear it. What strikes me is how quickly he can respond, and I know that we were replaying the same scene in our minds at the same time, hundreds of clicks away. It was a decent film in 2007, and an even greater film now.

That is to say, I keep revisiting the movie and I seem to enjoy it more so every time. So it was my responsibility to see the original that got everyone involved to do a remake. Certainly, I'm glad that I did, but then I also see why it took fifty years (literally) for a remake to come out. It's also worth noting the state of remakes that we're in now. Look at that number: 50. Fifty years. That's a lifetime for a movie to go untouched, to be lost to time. A lifetime for an entire generation (or two) to approach the remake without any knowledge of the source. Now, you can't go to a movie without knowing that it's a remake, or reboot, or what have you. And the prime offender lies in Spider-Man: where a reboot is launched a mere five years after the latest iteration. If there's money to be made, nothing is sacred. A part of me thinks that the longer a movie can sit without being remade, the better: the reasoning is that the original was so good it couldn't be topped. But I also see the failure in logic there too, as great movies from the eighties are being remade into inferior knock-offs in the hope of making a buck. The new Total Recall had better special effects, but it lacked a soul. There is nothing to stop them from trying again in a few years.

The 3:10 remake isn't an inferior knock-off. It stands alone as a distinctly different movie that reflects modern movies. The pacing of the film, the acting, dialogue and action is all modernized so that we can consume it without feeling weird. Which is what happens when I watch the 3:10 from 1957. It's a product of a time that I can't fathom, as I'm so far removed from it: my dad was only two years old when it came out, and was surely forgotten by the time he took an active interest in film. It would make sense then, that I'm infinitely more comfortable watching movies from the late sixties and seventies (which are mainly composed of horror films like The Amityville Horror and The Omen). My dad grew up with those films, and was at an age where those films will be immortalized in nostalgia. In turn, he shows me those movies when I'm around the same age as he first took them in, and they distinctly shape my interest in film. But they lose out a little: movies from the late eighties and early nineties make up the bulk of my youth and are immortalized to a point where I would eagerly sit my children down in front of a Schwarzenegger marathon with a sprinkling of Willis and Stallone for good measure. And it comes full circle: my father has always had an interest in westerns that I've never really shared, and it stands to reason that his father would have him watching older films and series from the forties and fifties, including Yuma (although I would also point out how difficult it would be to actively do such a thing "back then" without a viable home video distribution system: you were pretty much limited to what was going to be broadcast on the three channels you received. Still.)

It also struck me how amazingly similar the two Yuma's are, especially at heart. Yuma follows Dan, a rancher with two boys, a wife and a farm caught in the drought to look after. Dan and his boys witness Ben Wade, infamous outlaw, hijacking some gold and shooting a gun-for-hire. They keep their distance and it's clearly established what Dan's priorities are: he in fact talks with the gang about returning his cattle, which they so nicely do. But Wade wanders into town and is captured by local law enforcement, and Dan is convinced to help bring him to Yuma, to catch the 3:10 train that will bring Wade to prison, and presumably where they would collect some kind of reward. Dan is promised two hundred dollars for his services, which he can't pass up: he really needs the cash. Dan can't catch a break, and this act - while lining up with his morales - is really just business. It's also an opportunity to show his bravery to his somewhat disrespectful boys.

This is one way the two movies split: in 1957, Dan's boys seem to respect him but want him to do more. They want their dad to go help the victims of the robbery, and are a bit flustered when he doesn't. In 2007, the boys are portrayed much more negatively: they have zero respect for their father. The older one (older now than they were in the 57 version) is eager to take matters into his own hands while constantly shooting his father looks of disapproval while at the same time trying to prove his own worth as a man, driven by a fear of falling into his father's shadow of perceived failure. This kid even takes it upon himself to sneak out with the group escorting Wade, much to the surprise and chagrin of his father. Immediately his son seems to idolize Wade as being the man his father isn't: free-willed, brave and charming. It's kind of the man he wants to be, but also at the same time recognizing that he's still an outlaw who's done some real nasty stuff over the years. It's also how you - the viewer - feels watching Wade in the 57 Yuma. This guy has charm, and is so incredibly well acted by Glenn Ford that it would put Crowe to shame if he tried to outpace the original. Crowe doesn't: he's smart enough to know to stick with a good thing, and emulates Ford's character as best he can. In the original, Dan's son doesn't come along for the ride or the action, although his wife does show up near the end just in time for Dan to escort Wade from the hotel to the train station. It certainly changes the film quite a bit.

When Dan is confronted with the disappointment of his son in person, he's motivated not just by the money, but by the opportunity to show his son first-hand what being a good guy can accomplish. In the original, he's not trying to prove to his son how brave he is, but instead instilling what his wife already knows, and is able to pass on to their family: his strong morals, beliefs and commitment to doing the right thing at the right time. Regardless, Wade sees Dan's strong character and respects him nonetheless by the end of the film - everybody else flees while Dan sticks to his guns - and decides to help him out by cooperating in the final push to get him onto the train. He makes note in both versions that he's broken out of Yuma numerous times before, almost making a farce of what has gone down. But it avoids farce in its portrayal of Dan's journey and commitment to doing the right thing, while developing a strong bond between the two men that makes Wade's actions believable. It also instills what we've grown to see in Wade, in that he's a pretty decent guy and a potential modern-day Robin Hood as he seems to have the right motives and is only killing other bad guys.

While Wade is the leader of this gang, he is knocked down in ranks of general bad-assery by Charlie Prince, played with excellent malevolence by Ben Foster. Charlie is in the 57 version as well, but not to any degree as the modern remake. Charlie is a stone cold killer, who takes pleasure in what he does and is accurately described as evil. Even in the ranks of a gang of villains, it would seem that Wade is the best of the bunch, although by his own admission: "I wouldn't last five minutes leading an outfit like that if I wasn't as rotten as hell." It's clear he's done bad things in the past, but on screen we see the softer side that his own friends don't know about. In fact, we may be witness to the final transformation of a character. I can recall learning in high school English that a good story would involve a protagonist who undergoes a change. Well, Dan doesn't really change: he's a steadfast good guy. Wade, on the other hand, does change. He murders his entire gang at the end after undertaking this journey with Dan, and will presumably lead a more just life after breaking out of Yuma. Sure, he's not going all good, but we - the audience - can take solace in knowing that he'll only be killing those who deserve it.

The other way the two films diverge quite a bit and truly reflect the era they were borne from is quite simply the action. Yuma is not a particularly long movie, but I questioned it's length numerous times. I can't help it: I'm a product of my times. The journey that Dan and Wade take to Contention City is a wipe of the camera in the fifties, and is arguably the bulk of the movie in the remake. In the remake, we get run-ins with natives and the aforementioned posse, all of which require some gun work and explosions. When they do get to Contention, they hole themselves up in a hotel room until the train arrives, and this is where the film aligns, although the 57 Yuma spends a lot of time there. What this means is that Dan and Wade (Van Heflin and Glenn Ford, respectfully) get a lot more breathing room to interact and bounce off one another. Heflin and Ford do a fantastic job here. We keep glancing at the clock as tension rises in the confined room. Wade makes numerous attempts to talk himself out of the situation, appealing to Dan's motivations (financial and family). In the remake, we have two great actors in the same situation but no time to do anything. The film doesn't want to let audiences sit in that room for too long without a gun going off or something exploding, so we miss out on a build up of the significance of what is about to go down. In the end I suppose they both achieve their goals, but the 57 Yuma feels more authentic.

When Wade's gang does arrive, and the two make a run for the station, we get robbed. In the remake, it's madness: outlaws everywhere, with gunshots exploding off every piece of wood in every frame. The original played it cool: they negotiated one shot, and it was wasted early on. If Wade's gang shot once more, Wade would be shot by Dan, who had him at gunpoint most of the time. This type of respect must have been too unbelievable in the 2000's, as Wade's gang didn't seem to care who was going to be hit by the rain of gunfire. In any event, the contrast is clear: major action to major tension. I knew, back in 2007 that our two leads are invincible (at least until they reach the train) because of all the norms that modern movies follow. A movie from the fifties though? It's a bit of a mystery. And it's perhaps because of these norms and formulas that modern movies follow, that we appreciate when one ventures off the beaten path.

By the end of it all, I have a great appreciation for both films. They are products of the times they were made in, but underlying themes remain consistent and strong throughout. Some things never get old, including a good story, and great characters.

Eden Lake

Never did I think that this film - of all films - would evoke an emotional response in such a sharp way. Even thirty minutes into the movie. Thirty minutes into the movie, and I turned it off. It was a crawling Sunday evening and I was looking for something to get into. It happens that Eden Lake has been sitting in the collection for some time, pre-judged as being a bit of a light, typical horror film. The poster gives it away: our distressed female protagonist is being chased through the woods by a group of menacing shadows. Nothing particularly supernatural, but you never know.

And the first thirty minutes, well, it lived up to expectations. We follow Jenny and her husband Steven (I love the plain names) played by Kelly Reilly and Michael Fassbender (admittedly a big reason I put the movie on in the first place) as they travel to a small, remote town situated on the aptly titled Eden Lake. They make sure to let us know that the towns people are a bit off, but it's all good as they advance down to the beach, get into their swim wear and start relaxing.  The lake itself is pristine, and the beach is gently nestled between the water and incredibly rich forest. It's a nice locale.

Things go quickly downhill as Jenny and Steve are interrupted by a group of teenagers doing decidedly bad teenage things: they are loud, obnoxious, disrespectful and downright rude. That's an understatement, but it doesn't escalate right away to more horrible things. Steve confronts them, asks them to turn down their music and perhaps find another spot on the beach. But of course they don't, and the hooligans start actively screwing with our lovely couple, to a point where there car is stolen and I turn the movie off because I was just invited over to dinner at a friend's house.

Fast forward three weeks or so and the poster enticed me again. I pop it on and the movie has a different feel. Jenny and Steve are in for a ride of their lives, as events escalate between them and the teenagers to a horrifying degree, with an end that is sure to leave you upset. After checking out reviews, I find it's not uncommon for people to hate the movie, and I can easily see how this is the case. It doesn't end with a great note. After we take the journey with Jenny, the credits roll and we're left with a bad taste in our mouths.

Isn't this the point though? If it was run through the Hollywood cleaner, the film would be lost. What we end up with is a movie - and ending - that sticks with you for a bit, just like The Mist did years ago.

I sat there and wondered if things like this could actually happen. For a movie that is grounded in reality, it certainly seems unbelievable as you watch. But I know exactly how seemingly nothing can escalate into something, and the result is horrifying. It's happened in my life before - an event that I can't stop thinking about all the time, nearly eight years after the fact. We hear about social experiments where people are put in seemingly normal situations and things escalating into an unpredictable series of events that will leave you dumbfounded. People are crazy and there's no way to prove otherwise. Unfortunately one aspect of this film is reassuring you that it only takes one: in this case, the alpha male who acts as the ring leader in this circus of horrors. He pushes the others, and punishes any who question him or his actions. The others follow suit and do as they're told. When will they stop and help the victims? Peer pressure is an amazing thing, and I think it gets captured here, although I like to believe that people would tap out before the depictions in the film. Optimistic is something that I can pretend to be, but this movie is going to push me right back down.

It's also making me think of how easy it is to prey on "small town people." I understand that movies are made for the masses, and the masses are condensed into cities. These people - myself included - can't comprehend the life of someone who may live on the outskirts. We know what we know. And it's easy to demonize the unknown. Remotely isolated people are cannon fodder to horror movies, and this is no different: the people depicted in this film are unrealistic but serve the film for what it is. Anyway, that's all a bit of an aside/response to some things I read online about the movie after watching it.

While Eden Lake wasn't a master stroke of film making, it was surprisingly shocking and interesting, elevating it above other lesser, more forgettable movies.

Heavy Rotation: Singles 2013

As I mentioned in my previous Heavy Rotation post, I started a new job that wasn't really music friendly. That is, I can't really use headphones and playing music through speakers isn't going to happen when some people are in the room (my office is a large, window-less room with three people in it, including my immediate supervisor). So Rdio takes an even bigger hit, and listening to music at home typically involves putting on MP3s (or whatever format they are in - I like to collect FLAC). As this downturn in office listening occurs, an upturn in mobile listening comes out. I've put together a "Singles 2013" playlist on Rdio which is composed of any singles that I've taken an interest in. I think it's a pretty awesome mix, if I do say so myself. It comes on in the car all the time, in the house while I'm doing chores, and whenever I want to listen to some seriously solid songs.

As of right now, Singles 2013 stands at 21 tracks. It took some effort to clock in over 15 or so because of a lifetime of limited CD capacity. It was a mental barrier that I broke through now and feel pretty good about it. It's also evolving. There are tracks that I have removed for a variety of reasons, mainly because they weren't good. Here's the list:

1. Justin Rutledge - Out of the Woods
2. City and Colour - Thirst
3. Young Galaxy - What We Want
4. Iron & Wine - The Desert Babbler
5. Vampire Weekend - Ya Hey
6. Small Sins - Where There's Gold
7. Metronomy - The Look
8. Broken Bells - The High Road
9. Cold War Kids - Miracle Mile
10. Half Moon Run - Full Circle
11. Rosie June - Sound it Out
12. Dustin Bentall & The Smokes - You Are An Island
13. John Grant - Black Belt
14. Woodkid - Run Boy Run
15. Arcade Fire - Reflektor
16. Razorlight - Wire to Wire
17. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Heads will Roll
18. Cold War Kids - Lost That Easy
19. MGMT - Time to Pretend
20. Ellie Goulding - Lights
21. Katy Perry - Roar

We still have a bit of time left in 2013 so there may be some further additions. It's also worth noting that not all these tunes were released in the title year, they're simply songs that I have discovered for myself and started listening to now. That was another hurdle for me to overcome. Mission accomplished.

Oh, and a YouTube playlist with just about all the songs above: Singles 2013

And if you're on Rdio:

The Hangover Part III

You're damned if you do, and damned if you don't.

The first iteration in The Hangover series came out but a few years ago, in 2009, and has since spawned two sequels in an absurdly short time. The thing is, it's not absurd anymore. This stuff happens all the time, and it's inevitably going to happen more often with popular, easier (re: cheaper) to produce films such as these. Piecing together a major sci-fi epic or super hero special effects demo reel like The Avengers takes a lot of resources, including logistics and processing time, and least of all (this is perhaps unfair) time spent on a good story.

Seemingly coming out of nowhere, the original Hangover was a pleasant surprise and entry in the comedy genre. It wasn't completely dumb. That is, to say, it had a great storytelling mechanic and presented some really great, morally ambiguous characters that were easy to cheer for but also easy to wish they would just fall on their faces and figuratively eat it. The Hangover allows us to take pleasure in their pain and laugh at their misfortune without feeling guilty or bad about ourselves. The film, while seemingly grounded in reality, ventures into the absurd fantasy enough that we can all lazily reach toward it. It represents a fairly modern-day 20 and 30-something year old male's fantasy of what Las Vegas has to offer: opulence, alcohol, drugs, women, Mike Tyson and ludicrous adventure. It's a solid consensus that we all enjoyed it.

In today's modern movie landscape, any successful movie will inevitably spawn a sequel. It's practically a law. In this case The Hangover managed to turn a $35 million investment into nearly half a billion dollars (worldwide). You can't pass up an investment opportunity like that, and all parties involved in the making of the film can't pass up the opportunity to for various reasons. In this case the sequel cost more than double the original but grossed just a fraction more.

It was doomed to fail, but fail it did not. People were against it - at the very least, in my social circle: it didn't warrant a sequel but we're all in the for the ride anyway. We missed it in theatres, which I swear was more out of rebellion than anything else. The sequel saw our group of fools repeat their adventure in Bangkok. The formula was the exact same: one of them is getting married, they're enjoying a bachelor party of sorts, and they all wake up the next morning with no memory of the night before. They find one of their own is missing, and they set out on an adventure to piece together the night before. If it worked the first time around, then it surely must work on the second, right?

Considering how well the movie did financially, I can't find anyone who actually liked it. One of the complaints is how rigidly it stuck to that formula: why not do something a little more original? But come on, people like the formula. They watch the same show every week in the form of CSI and any of those other countless shows. What really happened was that the film tried to masquerade as the formula but it was drastically different in unnerving subtlety. The first element was the city of Bangkok. Nobody watching this movie knows what it's like there or has an inkling to visit. It can't compare to Las Vegas, which is so heavily promoted and idolized as the dream getaway. Bangkok doesn't stand a chance. Our group wakes up in a premium suite in Caeser's Palace. In the sequel, they wake up in wretched hole in the wall in what looks like the slums. The Hangover Part II has a level of grittiness that you don't want a part of, so it makes you feel uncomfortable. Well, it did for me, at least. But that was part of the appeal. I felt like the stakes were raised even though I knew the ending well in advance - it was, after all the same plot.

The other element is how the film dismisses Doug, the groom in the first film. Well, somebody has to stay behind and he's the least known actor amongst them, so why not make him disappear in the second too? I can't help but think that if this movie was actually following that formula, it would have been forced to exile another. But, we're talking about the machine and we can't afford to lose one of our main stars for the duration of the film. Part II also focuses quite a bit Mr. Chow (in large part, I'm sure, because of his appeal from the first film). The first movie took us from absurd location to absurd location, loosely connected with clues that would bring us to a conclusion. Part II does a bit of the same but quickly leads us into an extended chase with and for Chow. Part III focuses 100% around Chow, and that's not where it differences end.

Part III diverges from the formula entirely in ways that must make everyone uncomfortably, because it was the lowest rated and made the least money but a couple hundred million (and cost more than the second as well). If they were criticized that Part II was too formulaic, they overcompensated and went way off path for the third and final installment. So far off the path that it wasn't enjoyable on nearly any level.

Now, instead of marriage bringing our group together, it's death and mental illness. This is entirely way too serious. We don't have a scene where our group wakes up with no memory. No, they're kidnapped and forced to find Chow. They're now on an entirely different type of mission that nobody wants to be a part of. But hey, we go back to Vegas - and instead of living large in a luxurious room, we're hanging off the roof of Caeser's Palace this time and parachuting through the city streets. The absurd fantasy that allowed us to enjoy the previous two films has now been crossed, and exposed for being a thin line to begin with. We were just too busy having fun before. Now that the actual movie has been darkened, we can't relax and let ourselves go.

To add insult to injury, the final scene (spoilers, I guess?) is a huge tease for the movie we actually wanted to see. One of our group is getting married, and we cut to the morning after the bachelor party. It amps up the scene we fell in love with from the first film, then rolls the credits. Our trilogy has ended, and we were robbed of a great story.

This is what we get though. This is what we wanted and demanded. We can take some pleasure in knowing that there wont' be any more of these, right?

Movie Diary

Not sure how many of you click on it, but I've had a link pointing towards my "Watched Movies" for a while. It's also been the source of some of my favourite posts where I compile useless numbers and post graphs regarding the number of movies I watch over a six month time period:

Six Months of Movies

Six Months of Movies: Part 2: More Movies

In case you don't see, that's a solid year of film right there. As we come up to another year of movies (including a full calendar year of January to December - a first in my log), I began to evaluate how I'm keeping track of these films. The platform of choice has been IMDb, but I've hit certain limitations on it. The major one that I just can't get around is not being able to add a second viewing to the list. IMDb allows only one film per list, so it's not that good at a movie diary. In the past I've manually entered things in for the odd film here and there, but that's not going to be viable long term. 

IMDb was also a bit plain looking.

So I spent a morning taking a look around to see what else was available, with the most important feature in mind. I stumbled across Letterboxd, which was described as a social network for movie lovers. You could make lists, add movies to them and share your reviews and ratings. You can add friends and keep a diary of films you've watched. I checked it out right away, opened an account and tried adding a second viewing of a film. It worked, and it worked really well. You can add any film, record the day you watched it, add any comments/review and submit it handily to your movie diary. And because the site is geared towards social, it's quite easy to share everything (all your lists may be public by default). 

Which brings us to the Watched Movies link. You'll see that it now points directly to my Movie Diary on Letterboxd, and you'll find the Movie Collection link brings you to a list I created to keep track of what Blurays I own. This one I'm a bit more hesitant to use, as it doesn't keep track of actual releases, only movies. So I may look for another service for that. Right now, I'm still using the Google spreadsheet, but will publish this list as it's much nicer to look at.

I'm also updating the link to be called Movie Diary.

And since I love you all so much, I subscribed to the pro version of Letterboxd, which allowed me to import my list from IMDb in, so none of that date is lost. It also provides me with a "Year in Review" page that I couldn't resist. This page brings some nice stats, including some that would have been impossible for me to compile on my own, including most watched genre, actor, director and how many hours of movies watched. Which can be a scary number to think about.

Year in Review: 2012

Year in Review: 2013

So that's it for now, I hope you all enjoy the updates! I'm definitely having fun putting this stuff together!

Melancholia

This one's been sitting in the collection for a little while, mostly due to my system incorrectly reporting the time of the film as clocking in over four hours. Seriously, it was preventing me from watching it for ages. The past few years it's been difficult to commit to anything longer than two hours, let alone four. If I wanted to see something verging on four hours I would finally get around to watching Seven Samurai.

Earlier this year I took a trip across province to see Cale. He gave me some homework a while before the trip that I completely failed: to watch Lars von Trier's Antichrist, starring Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg. Hesitation is a bit of an understatement when it comes to my reluctance to undertake such a thing, as last year, he tasked me to watch Salò. I did, and I was disturbed. At the same time, my idea of what movies could be - and have been - were widened. When I arrived at his house we immediately began discussing which film to undertake and upon discovering my failure the film was on before I could object.

Antichrist opens dramatically. I'm pretty sure the it was about ten or fifteen minutes of slow motion, black and white tragedy. Our two main characters, a married couple who are never given names, are attempting to deal with the loss of their son. He and She attempt to repair themselves and it leads them to retreat to their cabin in the woods to deal with Her depression. The movie is thick with symbolism and disturbing imagery. The imagery is explicit, violent and definitely not for everyone. Describing it as challenging is perfect, and makes me appreciative of what cinema can be outside of the typical popcorn flicks.

How does Melancholia relate to Antichrist, aside from the director? It's part of the Depression Trilogy (or Trilogy of Depression) that begins with Antichrist and ends with the upcoming Nymphomaniac - which is experiencing buzz due to the involvement of Shia LaBeouf and of course, the subject matter. Each part of the trilogy (to borrow from Wikipedia) centers around characters dealing with depression or grief in varying ways. It's said that they are representative of von Trier's own experiences with depression.

Melancholia centers around Kirsten Dunst's character Justine and her sister Claire, played by the Trilogy's one consistent actress, Gainsbourg. The movie opens in a similar, tragic way, but on a planetary level (literally). In this reality, another planet is on a collision course with Earth. It seems Earth gets destroyed, with some beautiful slow motion planetary destruction. But we're transported immediately to Justine's wedding night. The event should be happy for everyone, but tension is present between family members, and we get the impression that there is a lot of history here. We're observers, not just from the couch, or even as a guest but extraplanetary. Imagery of the Earth being destroyed puts us in a somber mood already, so we fully expect the worse.

Unfortunately at about an hour in I grew tired and decided to retire early, stopping the movie at what seemed like an appropriate spot. I wasn't sure where it was going or even how it was relating back to planetary destruction. I picked it up again the next night and it felt like a completely different movie. We were advanced a year wherein Justine is going through serious depression - aftermath of the events from earlier - all the while the planet is approaching. We switch focus a bit to Claire, who is paranoid that the planets will collide, while being reassured by her husband who is confident in the calculations that the planet is merely doing a drive-by. We travel with her through anxiety, frustration and depression in the face of certain finality.

It is an epic journey, and nothing could take away my attention. The movie is beautifully shot and well acted. It's not shocking or disturbing in the same way that Antichrist was, but it will definitely leave a feeling with you, especially if you have ever dealt with depression or anxiety. I leave with an even great appreciation for film, and look forward to being challenged again.

The Five Dollar Bill

Most lunches are uneventful aside from the event itself, but occasionally we get to see something out of the ordinary, or something extraordinary occurs. Last week was one such event.

We walked into Harvey's - the one relatively downtown - and we were immediately held up by two slow walking individuals in full business suits. I thought about passing them, but decided to let them meander forward to the cash. Even though we only have an hour for lunch I don't like to rush.

The two men were quite tall, and one significantly older than the other. The elder was standing on the right; aside from their suits there was nothing out of the ordinary about them. Well, that is except, being in suits in this part of town at this location at this time of day. Like I said.

The young man ordered food for both of them. When the cashier asked what they would have to drink, he responded with "this gentleman will have water" and motioned toward the older...gentleman. Then it caught my eye: a five dollar bill fell from the man's right hand to the ground. I leaned a bit to the right and saw it plainly: a wire attached to the bill going up to the man's sleeve. It was coiled - very long - and was glued to the bill in the centre.

Was this a magician?

I looked up at him and he peered back, then quickly snaked the bill back into his hand.

Looking back at my friend, I confirmed that he saw the same thing. We grimaced and looked back to the menu.

Then the older man turned his head around to look us in the eye. He peered into my eyes, searching for something. His expression was plain but anticipatory. Should we say something? Was he testing us?

Then he did it again. I'm pretty sure he was looking directly at me when he dropped it, and as soon as my eyes went down to the motion of the bill falling, he snatched it back up again, still looking at us. A prank. He was a magician, right?

I almost broke out laughing, then put my order in, and we proceeded to eat our meals. We had a view of the entrace/exit and took note when the two men were leaving the restaurant. The older man, still clutching the five dollar bill, stood at the end of the burger delivery system where people could plainly see him.

Another man, with take out bag in hand, started heading toward the door, then it dropped again. Directly facing him, the five dollar bill dropped from the gentleman's hand onto the ground, taking the other guy by surprise. The other guy started leaning over and saying "oh you dropped --" at which point the bill was snatched back up. The guy stood back up and just quizzically looked at the gentleman. He paused for a second, then left the building.

The men in suits left the restaurant, and we watched where they went: across the street into a red van, and drove away. They didn't use the restaurant parking lot - a bit odd perhaps, but it's alright. Were they magicians? If so that wire really needed some work: it was like thick fishing line. There were no hidden cameras...or were there? A social experiment?

We'll never know. But I'm glad we were there.

Jones Falls Lockstation

A few months back we took a small road trip looking for locks along the Rideau Canal. It wasn't long before we stumbled upon the Jones Falls Lockstation. The road off the highway was inconspicous, and the parking lot modest. There was a small nature trail leading up to the Stone Arch Dam, although we had no idea how long the trail was or if it was going anywhere. 

Coming around the bend, the dam appeared most unexpectedly. We were already at the top of the tall dam, looking downward to the base below - densely covered by trees and brush. It was incredibly impressive, and worth the trip alone, but we continued past to the actual locks. If you look at the map below, we came in at marker 12, then advanced our way down to number one. On the way out, we saw our mistake and pledged to visit the main entrance next time.

The arch dam itself is 60 feet high and 350 feet across, and there are four locks on site. Work on the entire project began in 1827 and completed in 1832. I can't help but marvel at the engineering and work that must have gone into this - of course it was difficult and hard to imagine such a project taking place so long ago, and the same could be said for any of these older projects. The fact that it's all still standing and in operation is a testament to the passion that was put into the construction. I knew that once we saw this dam and the time period it was made, that it's a hidden gem among all of Canada, and made me quite proud to be part of the country and standing on site.

I only took a few photos - my only camera was my iPhone 4. With a bit more preparation next time, it would be easy to spend more time and watch the boats go through the locks, and have lunch at the Hotel Kenney. There's a lot of history to be uncovered, and it's not that far from home.

I would highly recommend checking out these links to learn more about the locks, and Jones Falls in particular.

Parks Canada - Jones Falls Lockstation The source and description of each point of interest marked on the map in this post.

Parks Canada - History of Jones Falls
Rideau-Info - Guide to the Locks
Wikipedia - Jones Falls Dam

Chromecast

A few months ago Google shook things up a little by releasing the Chromecast upon us. It's a small streaming device that plugs directly into your television's HDMI port, and acts entirely wirelessly. Chromecast was a bit different than other streaming boxes in its simplicity: plug directly into HDMI, no inputs, just a single micro-USB port on it and it has no interface of its own. See, the Chromecast puts itself into a ready state, allowing other devices to send content to it. So anyone on my wireless network could theoretically open their YouTube app on their phone/tablet/computer and start playing it on the big screen. It's a rather simple device, but quite elegant, and at $35 it was exactly what I was looking for.

Unfortunately, the device is not available in Canada, and Google seems to have forgotten about us up here.
In addition to tech news sites, I would check the Play store every day for availability, only to be let down over and over again. There were other options: buy it online through Amazon.com (not the .CA store) or drive down and pick one up at retail. Well, I must not have needed it as badly as I thought, because I wouldn't do either. Until earlier this week, I get a call from my friend. He's take the family down across the border for a day trip and picked up a couple of Chromecasts. On his way home he dropped it off, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

I've been watching a lot of online video recently, over the past few months. It's come a long way. There are numerous channels on YouTube that I subscribe to and check for new content on a regular basis. Ever since getting the Nexus 7 tablet, I've been prone to browsing the videos section of Reddit and generally neglecting any serialized shows and movies. When the Chromecast came out, I knew it would be perfect: browse for the videos on the tablet, and show them on the big screen. Especially handy for sharing videos amongst a room of people. It would be perfect. But without the device, I had to try other means: namely, the YouTube app on XBMC, which is installed on a home theatre PC connected to the television.

Being at home sick for the day, I used the app on XBMC liberally. Recently, I changed my e-mail address and thought it would be a good time to update which account the app uses. This was a big mistake. The app is flaky enough on it's own, that I've learned it's best to leave it alone if it is working. For the life of me I couldn't get it to connect to my new account, and I wasn't about to fool around too much with the system (that is, the XBMC install) in fear that the damage would spiral out of control. If you've ever setup XBMC and had some issues, you'll know what I'm talking about (although it's much better these days). I resolved to install an app that allowed me to add channels, but it wasn't tied to any Google account. A few hours later, the phone call came in and my Chromecast experience would begin - right on time.

It really was as easy as they said to set it up. Plug it in (and plug in the USB cable for power - my television set isn't new enough to sport the latest HDMI powered outlets) and install the Chromecast app on my Nexus 7. It does an ad-hoc wireless connection, then connects to the main wireless network in the house after entering some credentials. It reboots itself, downloads a system update and I'm off running four minutes later. Streaming items to it couldn't be easier. Once YouTube is open, I choose the output device and it just works and I can take the video back right away.

Other devices don't seem to have an issue connecting - YouTube on my iPad, or Chrome on my laptop. I haven't tried putting the entire browser window on it, but I feel that will be a less used feature. Not to mention that if I want to do that, there are many other devices that are capable (HTPC, mainly). The Chromecast is simple, unobtrusive and capable. It's a no brainer for me to be putting one on each television in the house.

Riddick

Riddick appears on screen crawling, limping, through a harsh wasteland fraught with alien creatures bent on
his destruction. He's able to elude them, one by one until it becomes too much. He rethinks his strategy, slows his heartbeat, and rests in a custom made tomb. Narration kicks in and we're treated to the story of how Riddick got himself into this situation in the first place. People who could take a cue from him: he blames nobody but himself for his misfortune.

Redemption.

The first act of the movie follows Riddick in ultimate bad-ass survival. Ten years have past since Chronicles, and just in case we forgot, we're bludgeoned with reminders on how awesome he is. In the harshest of environments, Riddick thrives, domesticates and controls.

And just in case you weren't convinced of how brutally talented Riddick is at being brutal, they bring down teams of bounty hunters for him to play with. It's all absolutely brilliant fun, and I loved every second of it.

Pitch Black was a great film that came out of nowhere. I got it as a gift for Christmas on DVD many, many years ago and fell in love with it. Then, years later the sequel would come out and while it took a different direction, it was still enjoyable. Unfortunately it seemed to the final nail in the coffin for Riddick. Lo and behold, nine years later we discover Riddick was never in the coffin - in true Riddick fashion - he was just lying low waiting for the right moment to strike.

Riddick, the movie, strikes back to the beginnings of it all in a true echo of Pitch Black. The plot is simple, as we're returned to a desolate planet with a terrifying hook. In Pitch Black, we await darkness, and in Riddick, we await the rain. You're familiar with the formula basically, but the ride is different, and very satisfying. Katee Sackhoff turns up for a decent performance, but falls a bit shy of the original Radha Mitchell. All the other characters are fairly straightforward and stereotypical, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. They bring a bit of comic relief to what could be misconstrued as a bit serious, and poke fun at the most important thing they could here: the myth of Riddick. It's akin to thugs taking about what Batman is and letting their imaginations go wild. Except instead of the streets of Gotham, the rumours spread throughout the entire galaxy here. It brings a bit of small town wonder to an otherwise gigantic scale. Riddick has an entire planet to explore, but the majority of the film takes place in and around a small mercenary outpost and it's surrounding inhospitable land.

After watching this, I had a look at the trivia and background of the film, as I typically do. It was interesting to see Vin's role in getting this film made: he agreed to do a cameo in third Fast and Furious movie, Tokyo Drift, in return for the rights to the Riddick franchise. So what may seem like selling out a bit for a quick bit of cash has ulterior, positive motives. Vin even helped fund the film to avoid delays in production. And we reap the reward. Riddick is a passion for the people involved, which really comes through on screen. Hopefully it doesn't take another ten years for a project in this world, but then again, we don't want to rush a good thing.

Nexus 7

Do you recall when the first iPad came out and your thoughts/feelings on it? It wasn't that long ago - April 2010 in fact - that Jobs and Apple dropped this piece of tech on us. It was met with skepticism in part, probably due to one line of thought that it looked simply like a big iPhone, and that Apple was brash enough to tell how this device was going to fill a hole in our lives that we didn't know was there. It's bold, but in the end they were right of course. The iPad would take the poorly performing tablet market and redefine it, just as they did the portable music device and smart phones in general. But I still scoffed at it a bit: it was easy to do so while working in the tech industry. My coworkers and I didn't see how it fit into the corporate world, and to a degree we are still correct, although the app selection and evolution has made them more business and productivity friendly.

The president of our company wanted one, so we got him one, then the IT department got one as well so we would know how to support them - standard practice. But we never used the thing and it collected dust; that is, until I started taking it home on the weekends. I brought it home during my stint with Fallout 3, and it served as the perfect companion on my in-game journeys. The iPad sat propped up on a pillow next to me, open to a browser with various Fallout wiki articles and guides opened. The size was pretty ideal for that, but I didn't get into the tablet for much else. I thought about getting one, but didn't feel that the price of it was justified. This would continue for a while, especially as more tablets came out, and the tech evolved rapidly. I didn't want to be stuck with old tech or missing key features. You know what I mean.

Then the Nexus 7 came out, and introduced us to an affordable tablet that wasn't particularly lacking. Sure, it wasn't loaded to the teeth with features, but it delivered a great experience in what I know think is an ideal size. The original iPad was too big and heavy for me, for what I wanted to use it as. The Nexus 7 was considerably lighter but also much smaller: a seven inch screen to the iPad's ten. My parents ended up giving me the Nexus 7 for Christmas this past year, and I was immediately hooked. It presented me with the Google ecosystem that I was so entrenched in already, in a very satisfying way. Enter my Gmail password once, and the tablet comes to life with all the services I used. A much better experience than the individual apps and permissions in iOS.

And I realize that my devotion to all the Google services is a big reason I enjoy the 7 so much. But I also enjoy it because it's refreshing, and modern. After using what feels like an antiquated iOS device for so long, it was a delight to get into something new and all the little OS flourishes were quite welcome.

Then, the new Nexus 7 was coming out, and I couldn't help myself. I didn't need the device, but I wanted it. The day it was available in Canada, I bought it without hesitation. For the first time in quite a while, I was helpless against the allure of a product. The high resolution screen was a big improvement and perhaps the major reason for getting the new 7 revision. But in general it is truly a refinement of the tablet experience: it was ligther, a bit more narrow and thinner, which makes it that more comfortable to hold for longer periods of time. The screen is the big draw, and now the tablet is replacing my Kindle as my primary e-reader.

The entire Play store helps the transition as well. Buying things through the web interface and sending them to the tablet is a dream. I'm impressed by the number of e-books, magazines and media that is available. Which brings us to the apps. You know the drill: Android is lacking compared to iOS, and this is undoubtedly true. But it's getting better all the time, and from my perspective, I'm not missing much. I'm not app crazy to begin with: I have a few main apps and they are all on Android - they work, they are good and I'm happy.

A few short weeks ago I was given an iPad Mini at the office, so I could compare the 7 to the Mini directly. What's the verdict? The 7 is better in every way, I suppose. The screen especially, but it's a bit unfair - the Mini has some catching up to do and is a bit older than the new 7 anyway.

I don't take the tablet with me everywhere. You could describe it as a Reddit browsing device more than anything else. But I find myself using it more for reading now - comics, RSS feeds (yes, I'm still holding onto them) and books. So what's next? Nexus 5, for sure...then perhaps the 10?

Kingston Family Funworld

As I was perusing Facebook this morning, I can across a shared article about the local drive in theatre. The headline was not suprising, and it most likely pretty common for the drive-in theatre industry: Support Kingston Family Funworld. You know exactly what's happening: the business is closing, and this is some last ditch effort to rally the community to save the historic (?) site.

Well, upon further reading I discover the issue is a bit more intriguing. Apparently Hollywood is only sending out digital copies of their movies now instead of 35mm prints. This is news to me. I know the movie industry has gone digital, but I didn't realize how prolific it was. I can tell when I'm watching a digital projection - or so I thought. Most of the screens I go to are digital, and it appears that every single one is now. I just assumed that they had the old 35mm projectors sitting beside the new ones; that may not be the case.

The Funworld site says that all film is being (or going to be) destroyed, and they are not going to distribute 35mm prints anymore. This seems pretty drastic and quite sad - an end of an era. There are debates among filmmakers on the benefit and disadvantages of filming digitally, but I haven't seen too much on the distribution. The drive in indicates that the cost of ONE of these digital projectors (they have three screens) is more than the cost of all three 35mm projectors they've had for the past 23 years (including maintenance). Your major theatre chains don't have an issue with the cost as they are large corporations and can easily get the money (or use the massive concession profits) to fund the new technology.

So the Funworld turns to the community to raise money: they've been turned down by government grants because the local market is too big - which leads us to believe that the business is doing well, but they need a loan to make this happen. I'm sure they can set that up when the time comes, but for now they are raising awareness - and money - through social media and the community. It's probably the first time I've shared an article through Facebook, although I feel a bit bad.

I feel bad because it's probably been 15 years since I've been to the drive-in. Let me recount the memories.

Going to the drive-in with my parents when I was younger was always a great experience. That was back in the day of parking beside a post that had a speaker on it. You would mount the speaker on an open window of your vehicle. Later on, they would remove the posts and replace the system with FM transmission: simply tune in and listen with your car's audio system.

My parents were fiends at the drive in. They would often go twice a week and were getting many "regular" perks, such as free shows, popcorn and snacks. The drive-in is always two shows for the price of one, really, so they were taking in four movies a week, often seeing the same one multiple times. I would tag along sometimes, and would actually take in some of my first R-rated films this way as I "snuck" in while sitting in the back seat. I remember it clearly: Face/Off and Event Horizon.

Sometimes the car battery would die and they needed a boost: I would be left home alone as my sister drove out to get them going again. I can just imagine a dozen or so cars at the end of every night in the same predicament: running the battery out is probably one of my biggest fears and I can't imagine it holding up to running the radio for four hours straight and not having problems. Then again, cars have come a long way, right?

I went on a date to the drive-in once, during high school - or perhaps more of a double date, I'm not sure. The first movie was typical date fair: As Good as it Gets. The second film was Wild Things, which just seemed ridiculous to pair up with the other, but such as the drive-in way. We held hands starting halfway through the first film and throughout most of the second. We watched the stars trace paths across the sky and called it a night without so much as a kiss. It was over a few short days later of course, but I was happy to check off having a date at the drive in, after getting my license to drive.

I'm not sure I ever went back to the drive in after that. In 1999 I moved away to a land of no drive-ins (which could mean anywhere, really). I've since come back, but haven't made the trek yet. It's difficult for the car to compete against the modern, large multiplexes we have today. It's generally a better experience, but not nearly as romantic, or nostalgic. And nostalgia may be the only reason to take a move in at the drive-in these days. That, and to support a local business. It's something that I would want my kids to go experience, simply because I have fond memories of it from my childhood. I know I'll be donating some money, and I hope they reach their goal.

Kingston Family Funworld: Go Dark or Go Digital

R.I.P.D.

It was difficult NOT getting excited for this movie upon initial viewing of the trailer. Jeff Bridges doing a zany accent is reason enough to get intrigued, but throw him into what appears to be another Men in Black movie, and you have my full attention. Granted, it didn't look like the best film ever, but it had a decent concept plus...Jeff Bridges doing a character.

Audiences and critics alike weren't on board though, as the movie definitely tanked at the box office during opening week. That's alright, because we were going to see it anyway. Was it disappointing? Not really: but the movie was capable of so much more. It had a lot of potential and I'm merely disappointed that it didn't take advantage of the framework that it laid down (or ripped off from MiB). Instead, it was a decent and short romp that will soon be forgotten and never heard from again. The terrible box office performance all but guarantees that no sequel will be produced, which is unfortunate as there could be some good story to be told here.

1. It's a comedy, but relies too heavily on one joke: that the main characters are dead, yes, but inhabit avatars that look nothing like themselves (a "super hot" blonde and an old Chinese man). I swear, every scene made reference to this, and it gets a bit tired.

2. Roy's (Jeff Bridges) death story has so much potential, but is squandered. In MiB, Tommy Lee Jones' character (Kay) has some emotional weight and mystery, that adds a bit of depth to not only his character, but the film itself as shown through his great dynamic with Jay (Will Smith) - it's what really makes the film work. In R.I.P.D Roy's character is kind of flat, although kudos to Bridges for doing something different and interesting. When it comes down to it, we find out how Roy dies but it's a joke that gets repeated (again) and lacks any real substance. Kay's background comes around full circle by the end of the trilogy, and invokes an emotional response from us viewers, something that RIPD doesn't do even in the slightest. Which brings us to the third point:

3. The characters are not emotionally involving. I'm not sure if this is because I wasn't able to relate to them in any way, or if they just weren't fleshed out very well.

4. The dead-o's, or monsters, didn't look that great. Again, this is a situation where there was lots of potential, but I couldn't get over two things. One, they looked like Play-Doh; just poor CGI perhaps but they lacked any weight and were a jumbled mess of flesh. Two, I didn't understand why they looked the way they did, aside from getting creative with monster design. Wouldn't it be interesting if they took on a form that was related to they way they originally died? I didn't see much of that, especially in the "final boss" transformation.

5. The 3D was poor. Like, really bad. My friend complained about it and said it was beginning to make him feel nauseous. I noticed it a bit too. Granted, this could be the theatre's problem with the projection, but I can't help but think it was a rush 2D -> 3D conversion for a film that execs saw - upon completion - didn't warrant a lot of extra financial investment. I wish they would just keep it 2D.

For a movie that seemed to be ripped from Men in Black (both of which are based on comics, mind you) I wish RIPD borrowed a bit more. Perhaps the magic just wasn't there. I certainly believe this film deserves a bit more than the 10% Tomatometer rating and poor box office results.

Mix 2008 I

Do any of you remember mix tapes? Or even mix CDs? It feels a generation ago that any of us were making these compilations. With the advent of the iPod and deluge of MP3 players afterward, the compilation CD was rendered obsolete and a memory of old tech.

There's a problem though, in that many of our cars don't have connections for digital music players. Sure, mostly all of them do now, but you go back a few years and they all lack that AUX jack that makes it all come together. Instead, we're stuck with a single disc CD player and the radio. My car is a 2008 model and has that AUX jack so I don't have much of an excuse to pop in a CD anymore, aside from that fact that it is infinitely more convenient than getting the cable and everything plugged in (especially while driving - a big no no) and navigating the interface to start playing something. With a CD, I pull it out of the visor storage area and pop it in, the music is playing immediately. So there is much to be said for the CD mix these days, although I recognize I am in the minority here.

It's been a few years since I've made a mix CD. The one that has stayed in my car and gotten the most play is entitled MIX 2008 I. Sadly, there was never a II, or even a follow up the next year. The only time I remember actually burning another mix is when my friend and I drove to Chicago. I created a couple of playlists from my iTunes collection using Genius. So based on one track, I would simply burn the remainder of Genius recommended tracks to the disc. We never listened to them. They are lost.

MIX 2008 I is representative of a transition from a car without AUX input to one with, and an ushering in of the new, digital player era. On long trips I no longer needed a binder of discs, but simply a cradle to put my iPod in and that 3.5mm cable to connect to my car. This also brought on the era of podcasts, as talk radio on a multi-hour drive was always important, and sometimes the CBC just wasn't that interesting.

I wanted to share the track listing of MIX 2008 I

01. Swan Lake - Widow's Walk
02. Sufjan Stevens - We Are What You Say
03. Franz Ferdinand - Tell her Tonight
04. Placebo - The Bitter End
05. British Sea Power - It Ended on an Oily Stage
06. Interpol - Roland
07. The Strokes - Reptilia
08.
09. The Killers - On Top
10. Kaiser Chiefs - Ruby
11. The National - Mr. November
12. Panda Bear - Comfy In Nautica
13. Andrew Bird - Fake Palindromes
14. Peter Bjorn and John - Let's Call it Off
15. Radiohead - Reckoner
16. Spoon - Laffitte Don't Fail Me Now
17. The Decemberists - Summersong
18. Barenaked Ladies - Lover's in a Dangerous Time
19. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Mercy

There are no liner notes, no track listing on the CD: I used Shazam to recognize most of the track names. It failed me on track eight, which I'm not surprised at. It was an impulse addition of a track I thought I enjoyed, but it's nigh implorable. For the past five years I've pressed the skipped button more times than I care to remember. The rest of the album, however, is borderline genius.

We start off with Swan Lake moaning; I've had friends wrinkle their faces in disgust and confusion as this title is a bit different to begin with. However, it smooths out into a more typical song and easily transitions into the other tracks. Mind you, it was not a completely random order of tracks either: I tried my best to ensure they come into one another, so that you are not too startled or taken aback by a change in pace. And this is proven in the last few tracks of the album, which wind you down from the earlier, more aggressive tunes that run from Tell Her Tonight through to Ruby. Mr. November by the National has a way to transition from powerful yet subdued, which sets up the second half of the album. And finally, the compilation finishes on one of my favourite tunes, and what I think is the perfect ending.

After five years, it's a very relevant mix of great music.

And now you can enjoy it too, if you're on Rdio that is. Or perhaps I'll take the time and link to the songs on Youtube, if possible.

Pacific Rim

Every once in a while, a movie comes along that demands that the group gets together and make it into an actual event. It can be difficult these days to the point where we barely try to get everyone on board to see one movie at a specific time, and it seems to work out now that once or twice a year, we make it happen. Last summer, Looper was the movie that got us all out. This year, Pacific Rim.

And unlike Looper, we all walked away excited and happy with the movie. Was there any doubt though? Really? Right from the initial teaser trailers, we were all hooked: giant robots fighting giant monsters. That type of movie - in my opinion - has been long overdue for quite some time. Growing up, I watched a lot of Godzilla movies with my dad, so I'm partial to the giant monster thing. Sprinkle in some robots and you have a film that taps directly into all of our childhoods favourite memories. We gobbled it up.

There is lots of fan service here: the giant monsters, known as kaiju, begin invading Earth through a portal at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. We can defend ourselves but it's not easy, so we create giant, human controlled robots called jaeger and engage them in a straight up brawl. That's right, the jaeger are equipped with rockets and plasma cannons, but it's the fists that do all the talking. It's almost comical, if it wasn't so awesome.

Each jaeger is piloted by two people, whose minds are joined together - the task of piloting and operating these giant mecha is too much for one brain to handle, so we threw two at it. The melding of minds is referred to as drifting, as the initial meld has both users going through the others memories and feelings. They become linked in a way that any physical communication can't match. In the previews, I thought the idea was a bit silly, but in practice it makes sense and actually adds weight to the story: imagine sharing the mind of somebody as they die, then going on to share your mind with another and have that individual experience those through you as well. It's interesting, and is significant when two pilots simply nod at one another later on: no words need to be spoken because they know exactly where they stand.

Anyway, the combat - which we all came here to see - is superb. Guillermo del Toro doesn't fall into the modern day action movie pitfall of too much editing and quick cutting to see the action: the two towering behemoths duke it out in gorgeous CGI glory in near slow motion. We get to see it all, and I love it every second of it. Kaiju and jaeger alike have a real sense of being, of some real weight on screen, which can often be lost in CGI creations. The designs of the robots and monsters practically beg for trading cards, action figures and more. Cities get destroyed as they should, but it doesn't feel excessive. Seeing Man of Steel recently, I balked at the city destruction caused by two super powered tiny men (aliens I suppose). There is much less destruction on screen here between two giants, but it feels proper, if that's possible.

There are faults of course: kaiju and jaegers change size constantly to fit the needs of the scene; the acting is flat but acceptable, and the story is not wholly original. But these are minor complaints that hold little significance to the enjoyment of the film. We came to see monsters versus robots, and that's exactly what we got. It's fun, loud, bombastic and the perfect film to see in theatres with a bunch of friends.

Never Let Me Go

Never Let Me Go is a film that is destined to slip under the radar of everyone, and it certainly did on mine. Asing its praises, but is more subtle in its accolades, than I take notice. And I grab it. Unfortunately that's only one step of the process, as having the movie and actually sitting down to watch it is another issue altogether. I was browsing my collection last night and saw the film there, and wondered: what is this? The brief description coined it as a science fiction film, which immediately grabs my attention. This, with a combination of some of the actors in it (Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield) and the fact that I at one point added it to my collection, was reason enough to hit play.
Not until I read a small blurb in a magazine or a forum post that doesn't quite

I was confused during the first act, but intrigued. The film opens with a few lines of text stating that in the 1950s, a medical breakthrough has allowed the human life expectancy to surpass 100 years. We start the film in the '60s, following a group of children in a school that seems a bit different than your typical school. They are encouraged to produce art, more than other subjects, and they seem to be isolated. Scary stories of what happens to children when they go beyond the fence keep everyone inside and guessing, almost living in a bit of fear if it wasn't for the fact that every child seems pretty happy. We're introduced to these stories through the addition of a new teacher to the schools ranks, who after a short time tells the students what their purpose is in life. She tells them to live their lives to the fullest with this knowledge, and is promptly fired from the school.

[Spoilers throughout the rest]

It's quite unsettling: the children are there to provide organ donations as they enter adulthood, and their own life expectancy is about thirty years. Typically they make two or three donations, at which point they complete. The child actors they got here do a brilliant job - apparently they would watch their adult counterparts act, and the adults could model their own acting based on the children. This method comes through brilliantly on screen, as we transition into their late teens/early twenties when the children are now living in The Cottages and we're introduced to our adult actors for the first time. There is a love triangle between Kathy (Mulligan), Tommy (Garfield) and Ruth (Knightley) that begins innocently in childhood and becomes more complex when we jump ahead.

Dejected, Kathy seems to be the odd one out as she follows her own path of becoming a carer - one of the organ donators who accepts the task of consoling other donors as they pass through to completion. She doesn't see the other two for ten years, where the film advances to once more. She then runs into Ruth again, who has just gone through two donations. Her time is nearly up. And so is Tommy's.

I've spent a bit of time basically spoiling the film through plot reveal, but you must understand that there is much more going on here. This isn't about the big reveal in the end, it's about the journey getting there. While this may be a science fiction film, it is a better human story about love, and the journey that we all take to accept our own mortality. This is what really got to me: we have three characters dealing with their fate in their own unique ways. It is something that I have thought about a lot over the past few years, and struggled with. Kathy has accepted her role, and knows that she will complete soon. She understands the bigger picture here: that they are all clones bred for organ harvesting (sounds quite grim, doesn't it?) and has a certain melancholy about the subject. She doesn't look back at her younger romance, she doesn't try to defer the inevitable. But she won't deny them, either. The other two deal with it in their own way, representative of my own feelings: anger, resentment, sadness, acceptance.

It's also difficult not to draw comparisons to The Island, a 2005 explosion fest starring Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansson. The first half of that film was very interesting, before it devolved into a generic, extended action chase sequence with enough effects and explosions to numb yourself. The beginning held promise on the ethics of cloning, harvesting parts for the super rich and living in a false, controlled society. Never Let Me Go is set in the real world, where these characters know their purpose and are (for the most part) accepting of it. I could only imagine the rest of society's feelings on these, of which we don't spend much time on at all. The focus is on the three love interests and their story. Suffice to say, the more personal, intimate story wins out here, although both have their place.

Never Let Me Go also advances into the question on whether these people have souls. This is why they are encouraged to produce art as children, and its this creation of art that Tommy undertakes to defer his own donations: if he can produce art that definitively shows that he has a soul, he may be spared. Although the film doesn't address it specifically, we, the audience, know that they do. It's not about art, it's about who they are as people. They act the same way we do, they feel the same way. These clones are equals, if not more. It's summed up beautifully in the last lines of the film, as Kathy ponders whether her fate is any different than those who receive the donations.

Beautifully acted, and wonderfully shot, I would have to recommend to anyone.

Heavy Rotation

Rdio has taken a bit of a backseat to life these days; with a change in jobs I don't have as many opportunities to put in headphones and set my mind on a task. My fear is that my music listening will fall way behind, so I'm actively trying to keep a few albums open, and Rdio playing a shuffled artist station whenever I can.

So far so good, but I've definitely hit a snag, in that I just keep listening to a few albums that I discovered just a few months ago. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as its telling of the quality of these albums, right?

I was asked recently what I've been listening to, and this post has been sitting in draft for a while. So here you go, my top four albums this past month!

Sea Wolf - Old World Romance

John Grant - Pale Green Ghosts

Gold & Youth - Beyond Wilderness

Young Galaxy - Ultramarine

Six Months of Movies: Part 2: More Movies

I've been awaiting this day anxiously and with a certain giddiness. Six months have passed. That's six more months of movie watching and movie stats to extract from. More comparisons. And it shall be glorious, right?

Last time I chronicled the time period of July 2012 through to December 2012. Check out the post to refresh your memory, if you like. This time around, we'll be going over January 2013 through the end of June 2013. This is exciting.

Fig 1; January 2013 to June 2013

Figure 1, above outlines the total number of movies watched per month. We managed to hit a record high here of 16 in June, which is pretty exciting and a direct result of me doing split movies. This is the practice of watching half a movie one night, then finishing the second night. A part of me thinks this is cheating in some way, that a view should be encapsulated in one sitting. But, that's not how it works here right now. Sixteen may sound like a lot, but it seems to standard for June. You can see that in June 2011 I took in 17 movies, and rest assured there was little splitting going on. Quite simply, June is a major movie month with plenty of new releases coming to theatres. I went at least once a week every week.

Fig 2; 2011 to 2013 comparison

Now we can compare the same period in 2013 to 2011, in figure 2 above. As I mentioned before, June is a monster month for movies, with 16 in 2013 and 17 in 2011. While this year saw a steady decline of movies over the months, 2011 was more up and down. The decline this year is due directly to an increased consumption of video games, specifically: Borderlands. I typically spend my Friday and Saturday nights playing at my buddy's place, where before we would typically take in a movie or two on each of those nights. 

Fig 3; Year 1 to Year 2

A very basic comparison of a full twelve months of movies, from July 2010 to June 2011, and July 2012 to June 2013. Unfortunately I didn't record movies for an entire year; fortunately I started recording at the right time for an even comparison between two years. While figure 3 may illustrate a large gap, it's quite small: 134 in year one and 128 in year two.

And there you have it, an average of 131 movies per year. How does that break down?

• 2.5 movies per week.
• 10.9 movies per month
• June is the highest consumption at 33 movies
• August is the lowest consumption at 13 movies

Fig 4; Two Years of Movies

Finally, figure 4 shows us a combined total of movies, per month, between years 1 and 2. As noted above, June is the highest at 33. What is noteworthy here is the rollercoaster view appearing. A dip before and after June, when clearly most movies are released. August and March/April/May are lowest, as we ramp up to the summer movie season and come off it in August with a lull in releases. 

XBox One

A memorable moment in my gaming career has been watching the live unvieling of the XBox 360 on television with my friend. We had worked ourselves up into an excitement that neither of us have seen before, and there is no doubt that the viral marketing and hype that Microsoft put out there was to blame. The event came and went, and a few short months after launch, we both picked up 360s.

For the past seven years, we have enjoyed them immensely, but our gaming interests and habits have changed a bit, his more than my own (re: bachelor lifestyle). The rumour mill started up and we were looking at the announcement of new systems coming up pretty soon, and I found myself quite excited. May 2013 couldn't come soon enough, and when the day came, I was relatively glued to my monitor at work, watching the presentation and refreshing the live blog at the same time.

Disappointment.

The XBox One - as the name was announced that day - was something else; it was no 360, and it wasn't the natural evolution that I (and many more) were hoping for. The hour long presentation showcased how the One would take over your cable box and allow instant swapping between games, movies and live television. It talked about sports and the new Kinect. They talked about just a couple of games, with a major focus on the next Call of Duty. All of which, I had little interest in.

We quickly determined that this XBox was not meant for us, or at the very least, Microsoft has told me that I am not their primary target market anymore.

I cut cable years ago.
I avoided the Kinect and dislike motion gaming.
I don't buy sports games, or watch sports.
I don't buy or play Call of Duty (unless it's really cheap).

Fast forward a bit to the next Microsoft press conference (pre-E3 one) in the beginning of June and we get into the real juice of the next generation.

It's not good.

DRM all over. It's confusing. You have to install every game. You must keep Kinect connected at all times. Kinect is always listening. Privacy? You can't lend games - or you can, but it's restricted and complicated. You can't really buy used games - you can but you'll pay a fee. It's always online.

Everything. Has. Changed.

And it sucks.

The One was no longer a gaming console: it was an always listening mass-media consumption device that just so happened to play games, and the restrictions that were put on playing games was ridiculous (especially for us casual gamers). Always on internet connection? Seriously? The problem with it all is that it bore little relevance to myself: I rarely have internet problems, and I'm always online.

But it's the principle of it all, right? The worst offender is the Kinect, and why am I being forced to buy hardware that I don't have any interest in using. I listened to a great comment that noted that the new Kinect is an amazing piece of hardware, that eclipses the previous version. But there is no reason why this new hardware is being included, or how it's going to make our games better. We're just told it is, and we have to roll with it. If you're ever looking for an example of something being shoved down the throats of consumers, take this new Kinect as the prime. Judging by the number of titles on the shelves and the amount that people talk about the Kinect, it's safe for me to say it was a relative failure, and hasn't added much to gaming. So the bundle is going to drive up the price, which is sitting at $499.

$499 for the One, while the PS4 slides in at $399. That's just killer. Supposedly Sony removed their camera/Kinect from the bundle to get it down that low, so please Microsoft, do the same thing.

A couple of short weeks after all this nonsense, Microsoft pulled a one eighty and removed all the lending, used game and online requirements from the system. The backlash was that high, the consumer has spoken.

This is good news for everyone, but it doesn't heal the massive wound that Microsoft dealt out. It will take time for this to heal, and I'm not convinced that they are in a position to fully recover. And an important thing to note is that there is nothing to stop them from slowly rolling this stuff out over the course of the system's life.

A few people have spoken out to say that the reversal is going to deny us some neat new functionality. Like "family sharing" where you could actually share one game license to others as long as you don't play at the same time. It sounds like you will also need the disc in the tray while playing now as well. Basically it's back to where the 360 functions right now. Microsoft had some cool ideas, but didn't communicate these well: these new features may have been killer, but they didn't talk about how they would work. Instead, they left the hivemind to spin everything out of control and the internet being what it is, spun it into an abyss.

After all this time, I had much more faith that MS would do the "right" thing, and we would get a nice console that played games and had a similar controller to the 360. I just want some new graphics, really.

Sony is here to fill the void. They have been taking notes on every misstep they took with the PS3 (and there were lots) and worked to correct all of them. At least, from what we can see so far. The PS4 looks like a pure gaming machine, which is exactly what I'm looking for.

In the end, it's all white noise. I've always been of the mind to wait until the system launches and we see how things turn out. The good and bad of it, is that the system can dramatically change in a short period of time. The industry can react: sending out new firmware can open up or close down your system. When the dust settles, in time, I will own all of them. Or perhaps I'll move to PC? My 360 has lots of life in it, and there is a huge stack of games waiting to be played. After all, it's the games that matter, and the games that make or break it.