Batman: Arkham City

It looks from my initial write-up of Arkham Asylum that I was quick to get the post out there, without talking about the game that much. And what else is there to say? I've recommended it to friends over the years without much description aside from the simple command: just play it. Because that’s what I did, and fell in love, so I figured others should do the same thing. And it seems they have enjoyed it, although not to the extent that I did (which was perhaps too much), but only in terms of wanting to stay in the Asylum to do as many challenges and to find ALL the Riddler's clues. Sometimes, the gaming stars align in such a way that you can do those things, and others, they simply pass by one another without much notice. Upon completion in Arkham City, I felt absolutely zero need to go around collecting all the Riddler's trophies and puzzles, and even less about doing all the challenges.

Perhaps a reason for the lack of interest in those extras was the other extras throughout the game, specifically: the side missions. There were quite a few of them, and I don’t recall these types of side missions in Asylum.  I didn't complete all of them though, as doing a few made me quickly realize there was a lot of work for not much return – I much preferred to stick to the main storyline. But here, the main storyline felt quite a bit shorter, no doubt pared down a bit in order to make room for all the extra missions found throughout the city. That’s not to say the story wasn't excellent, because it was really, very good. All the voice acting is spot on of course, and the game carries on that feel of the nineties Animated Series with a darker skew. And for a fan of those original cartoons (like myself) these games are the bees knees.

I also wanted to make a comment on the Catwoman content, which is extra from the main game, but is tightly integrated: after certain scenes playing as Batman, you’ll cut over to play as Catwoman on her own little mission against Two-Face and of course, you’ll interact with Batman throughout his story too. It fleshed out the game and added some depth to it, but what I ended up focusing on (aside from the character model herself) was how much differently she played than Batman. She is smaller, faster and not as tough, and it was an absolute dream to take control and beat up some bad guys using the same combat system (minus Batman’s gadgets).

The Catwoman content is actually DLC that comes with the game when you buy it new. This format of
incentive is increasing in popularity; as publishers try to prevent people from buying used games where they see no profit, they offer “incentives” like this. The practice is a turn off for many gamers, but it’s inevitable: if you buy the game used you can always buy the content for the regular DLC price, otherwise, buy the game new and just punch in the code. Personally, I want to wait for the game of the year edition which is going to be discounted and full of all the content. In any event, for Arkham City I would have really liked to see this practice removed and have the Catwoman content present right from the beginning, as I really do feel that it offers valued gameplay and story to the game.

If I had to lodge a complaint against the game it could be tied directly to one of the best aspects of it: the combat. Here it is: they give you a ton of gadgets, and in City you get many more that you can “quickfire” in combat. I want to use them all, all the time: you get more experience and higher scores, and it’s just straight up fun. The problem: I can’t remember all the button combinations. Yeah, most of the time I’m just mashing the attack button and doing counter attacks. Every so often I remember to use a gadget and it throws me completely off to a point in where I lose my combination and I have to see Batman getting punched in the back of the neck. He doesn't like that.

The final battle was good, and I didn't feel as frustrated there or anywhere else in the game like I did in Asylum. A bit of the magic that was present was lost here, probably because of the novelty of your first play through on becoming The Batman himself. I was scared initially when I read about City: thinking the play area was just going to be too big. It’s the opposite problem I anticipated with Asylum, but fear not: the city is an appropriate size as the core game remains essentially the same as you travel from one building to another, wherein all the main action takes place.  

So just in time as I write this little review, I see news of the next game in the series being announced. It’s a prequel that takes place when Batman was just getting started, which is always a classic time frame for him. It won’t be developed by Rocksteady, who helmed both of these games. It also won’t feature the writing talents of Paul Dini, and presumably none of the voice talent. It kind of spells doom and gloom, but we can remain hopeful: it will run the same “engine” so to speak, which means identical combat with new and different gadgets as well as fairly similar graphics. It’s going to hit this fall, which means I’ll probably end up playing it by the end of 2014. I look forward to it! 

A Collection of The Collector

First, let’s get this out of the way and just say that the first movie in this two-part series is absolutely terrible. I hated it. Yet, I continued to watching it; chalk that up to its short run time I guess, and the mood being where it was at. The second film – The Collection – was much better (although still bad, I suppose).

What happened? Well, it was a Sunday afternoon and I was hunting for something to watch, so I had a look at recent movies I've acquired and there sat The Collector. Now, normally I would browse right past this movie but recently the sequel had come out and I had a brief discussion with my friend about it, and how it could be a good horror b-movie to watch one night. Then he said it was the sequel to a film: The Collector. Makes sense, but in my mind: my friend knew about this film series and hence, it may be worth watching. I do enjoy these short thrillers from time to time.

Well, the first act of The Collector was insensible and seemingly pointless. I had difficulty following along, as I was drawn to my tablet for some casual Reddit browsing. The main character had a lurid past (maybe) as he was mixed up with the wrong people; the same people who were now forcing him to crack a safe in somebody’s house to get something, or else his family was in “trouble” which I took to mean, they would be tortured and murdered brutally. So our protagonist goes into this house (which he is somewhat familiar with already because he’s a handyman of sorts who was working there earlier) and discovers that somebody else is also in the house (who does not belong) and all of a sudden, the entire house is full of traps and deadly obstacles!  Our friend here had managed to get all the way into the master bedroom but was now trapped inside the house, unable to leave.

My first thought was how long it would take our killer to setup all of this in the house. In movie time, it must have taken a short while but the traps are elaborate enough that I could foresee a team of contractors taking days to get this stuff done. In any case, we find out the family is in trouble (the parents trapped in the basement, being tortured) and the young daughter is hiding somewhere – apparently for hours as the collector setup the house. The movie turns into a claustrophobic, fairly generic thriller from here on out, with predictable results and a cliché ending. Here’s my malfunction with this (because otherwise it would be merely decent): the Collector does not collecting in the movie, or at least, doesn't make it clear why the movie is called The Collector. He’s just trapping, and killing people in horrific ways. I got a heavy Saw sense from this, and lo-and-behold, it turns out this was written as a Saw sequel but was rejected; presumably it was retooled a bit to get its own franchise going. The second item was how the protagonist’s family issue was completely unresolved: midnight came and went, with not a mention of them. The credits rolled and I was left to wonder.

Fear not though, because the family is back in the second one, just to confirm that they were OK, I guess.

The second movie was much, much better. There was very little setup as we get into the traps and horrific deaths very quickly. This is kind of what you came for, and it delivered: a movie-standard team of heavily armed “professionals” enter the Collector’s warehouse of terror with the goal of saving a girl and proceed to die one by one. But here’s the key: they add a little backdrop by throwing in media reports: the Collector is a serial killer who traps people in their own house – killing them of course – but taking one person home. They indicate that there are about fifty missing people so presumably, his home base is going to be full of these people and they are also going to die horrifically. Our protagonist from the first film comes back to guide the goon squad and what we’re left with is a fairly tight, short film that doesn't linger long before showering us with blood and gore. Predictable? Of course, but that’s beside the point when taking in a film that knows exactly what it is, which the filmmakers seemed to have missed on the first go around.

In the end, neither one makes a compelling reason to spend time with: skip the first and see the second, or skip them both.

The Golden Age by Woodkid

First, I have to tell you that Rdio is one of the greatest services that I have ever used, and has completely changed the way that I listen to and discover music. I’ll probably write more about that another time, because the focus here is on one artist I found through Rdio that reaffirms the model and reinvigorates my love for music. It also helps to remind me that there is new, good music out there, and that I’m not crazy in looking for that “click.” See, when I first listened to The National, something just clicked, and I was hooked immediately. I sought out and bought all their music almost immediately. Ever since, I’ve loaded up new albums, had a listen and moved on, never to experience that click in quite the same way. Now, that’s not to say there aren’t degrees of clicking and trying to list those degrees is akin to basically ranking your favourite albums and artists (which is fundamentally unfair, I know). It’s safe to say The National (and specifically Boxer and Alligator) are amongst the top; I could easily just list the most recent additions to my music library as other good contenders. One album though has stood out, which is The Golden Age by Woodkid.

One of the features in Rdio is the “Recent Activity” in where you can see what your friends have added to their own collections. I saw one day that Art added an album called Iron by Woodkid; with interesting album art (it’s amazing that album art is often a determining factor in trying out music) and no indication of what I’m getting into (aside that Art enjoyed it enough to add to his library) I clicked play. I was fairly impressed, and got through the six tracks in no time, but I didn’t feel that instant click. The vibe was strong enough though, that I added it to my collection. I can’t say I listened to the EP again.

Another great feature on Rdio is notifications on new content and specifically, notifications for new content from artists in your collection. Sometimes I receive an e-mail, other times just an in-software alert. I received an alert that new content from Woodkid has been added, and I quickly discovered that it was his debut album coming out. Within seconds, I’ve hit play and I’m feeling that click take hold. I’m always bedazzled when an album comes out and I’m listening to it instantly: no purchases, no downloading, and no music store involved. Everything is at your fingertips and delivered to your speakers/headphones immediately: this is truly the way to listen to music.

 What I noticed first about The Golden Age (and Woodkid in general) is the voice; it’s rough, grumbly and pretty unique. To that end, it reminds me of the lead singer in The National, except with more grittiness here. The second thing I noticed was the grand, almost operatic scale to the music itself. There is lots of brass, string and percussion represented throughout the album, and I got a very distinct movie score feel from it. The second track, Run Boy Run, is screaming spaghetti western music from all corners: this track is lifting from Ennio Morricone’s score. The third track, The Great Escape, makes me wonder if he had a classic movie on in the background and was composing the instrumentation directly to it. Other tracks can simply be described as epic, with big moving sounds that are easy to get lost in.

The album slows down and speeds up at just the right moments and mix: I’ve always been a fan of the album experience and The Golden Age definitely delivers here. It’s also easy to just throw on a track; I don’t think having a single from the album show up in a randomized playlist will feel out of place. If anything, it’s going to make me stop the playlist and put the album on from the beginning.

Woodkid on Allmusic

Run Boy Run video on Vimeo

Spring Breakers

Deciding on going to see Spring Breakers was a relatively easy process, especially with our current mindset something there. Now, I’m not one to put too much credence into a critic rating, as I have thoroughly enjoyed low rated films and disliked high rated ones. In any event, we had gone to see Warm Bodies a while back in the theatre and we both enjoyed it: it is not typically a film we go to see in the theatre, so it was easy to reason going to see Spring Breakers the other night.

of wanting to find “hidden gems.” Of course, there is the obvious T&A factor going on in this film, which is why movies like Piranha 3D are seen, but there was something more to this film. My friend pointed out that the film had a 62% Tomato rating, which is not insignificant; combined with an audience rating of nearly 50%, you have a fairly conflicted film that has

We were not expecting what we saw. From the outset – indeed, the first few minutes of the movie – is pure party madness. In what sounds like a heavy Skrillex beat, we are introduced to slow motion nakedness and party madness, immediately justifying the films 18A (in Canada)rating and setting the town for a depraved, sex induced 90 minutes of depravity. What we get instead, is a cut from that scene into the college life of our four female protagonists in their classes and dorm rooms – a stark contrast to the litany of colours we were just blasted with. The girls are obsessed with going on spring break but lack the funds to do so; we’re warned that a couple of them are bad news but the “good girl” Faith (played by Selena Gomez) decides to go along anyway. They are all looking for escape from the terrible-ness of their college life.

And quickly, the film shocks you with a supercharged robbery scene that is filmed from the point of view of the getaway driver, who is slowly circling the unfortunate diner. We get to peer through the windows – a true spectator – at the mayhem inside, and are taken aback by the actions of the characters. Now we know their true nature, right? Not quite. The girls get to go to spring break and we are treated again to more colour, more fun and more nudity. Enter Franco, playing a drug dealer named Alien and we get into new levels of depravity that really grabs your attention. At this point, the film could turn into a generic horror film: college students go on vacation, get mixed up with the local scene and end up getting murdered in gruesome ways, but that’s not what you get here. Spring Breakers delivers something much more interesting.

The film has a very dream-like feel to it: full of montages, repeating narration and quick, inserted scenes that flash back to the initial robbery and also flash forward to imagery that can give hints on what is to come. There is a certain level of grittiness that appears throughout – except the party scenes, which are split into colourful acts of indecency and documentary style shots of party goers that makes you believe (and realize) that this stuff is actually happening and does not just exist in the movies.

Franco pulls in a great performance as he truly embodies his character; there is a level of realism and silliness presented to us. In one scene, he is showing off his “stuff” which is his room full of guns and money. But he practically improvises here, showing off that he has shorts in every colour, and draws attention to his nunchuks instead of the wall of automatic guns – arguable more lethal and illegal. He’s charming the girls, without fully knowing himself what they are capable of or have done in the past. It’s fitting that his name is Alien: a true and literal representation of this other world the girls have visited. When one of the girls leaves, they are gone and we, the viewer stay on the alien planet. We can take solace in knowing that she is safe now, but we can’t truly know the damages that have been done because we never leave this planet ourselves and there is no contact with the real world.  I have to wonder how much is dream and how much is reality, but I realize it’s not that type of situation. This is a dark, dark film with a very dark ending. It’s about how far these people are willing to go in order to escape their regular lives and embrace another: they specifically tell themselves to think of it like a video game, and that’s kind of what we get. It’s scary for us to see that transition; it’s scary to see the mayhem and negative morals, and uncomfortable to see them travel down the twisted path, especially since the only somewhat relatable character – the one with common sense – checked out quite some time ago.

While it may not be forever known as a hidden gem, Spring Breakers was a really good watch. Opposed to a generic action movie (looking at you Olympus Has Fallen) this movie was exactly what we were looking for: a thought provoking and more importantly, a discussion provoking film that is open to interpretation. We couldn’t simply walk away and go our separate ways afterward, we had to stay together and talk about what we’ve just seen. And if it’s one thing that will stick with you after this movie, is to never let your daughter go to spring break. Ever.

Artificial Intelligence: AI

What I've noticed recently is the tendency to describe movies as "forgettable" and its opposite, which forces a certain stigma and black and white-ness to the overall quality of a film. This was in evidence a few days ago when my friend made a reference to a movie, which flew over my head with wide-eyed wonder. He started at me blankly, and told me we had just watched such-and-such movie last weekend, which sparked my memory but also provoked a nervous laughter. Either the movie was quite literally forgettable or my mind is getting worse than it should be at thirty one years of age. On the other end of the spectrum, however, exists movies that are impossible to forget, as Artificial Intelligence stands among them.

Granted, the film is a science fiction piece directed by Spielberg, which could make it memorable alone, but it's the circumstances surrounding the film that make it stand out for me. On July 4, 2001 I had laser eye surgery (LASIK) to correct my eyes and remove my need for glasses. On the evening of July 3, I went to the theatre to see AI with my dad. I was living in North Bay at the time, and with the procedure being relatively new, there were no (reputable) places up north to do so, so my optometrist sent me down south to Toronto. My dad and I drove down, went to the centre for a pre-op checkup and to sign my life away in forms. We went back to the hotel, checked in then went to The Keg for dinner, as it was a special kind of outing. Afterward, we decided to hit up the movies and see AI, which was just opening; the film was incredibly busy and we ended up sitting in some of the very front rows, which proved to be uncomfortable at times simply because the seat is located so close to the screen.

I remember very clearly, thinking at the time: this could be the last movie I see. Literally. If they botch the procedure and I lose my vision, AI will be the last thing I remember seeing. Was the film good? I don't even recall if it was or not, as all my thoughts were based in anxiety over the impending operation. While my vision was not optimal for about a week, it improved and I was busy watching movies in no time. It struck me as odd then, over the years, that I haven't bothered to go back to see the movie. I can't quite place my finger on why I wouldn't want to.

Well, that's not entirely true: I remember the film being a bit long, drawn out and perhaps just straight up boring. And my memory may be failing right now, but I feel as though there was general dissatisfaction when the movie came out; it failed at the box office (estimated $90 million budget with just $78 million in domestic take) and has only been mentioned in passing in conversations with friends since. As it is though, I feel as though I can look back at these movies with a different perspective, that being one with more maturity, experience and insight. So, the other week I put it on, and was incredibly impressed. It felt like watching the movie for the very first time with a cheat sheet, which allowed me to draw comparisons and thoughts that went over my head the first time around.

First, was the obvious (to me now) Kubrick influence; it's no secret that he began the project but passed on before he could do this movie. Spielberg picked it up and ran the rest of the way, and provided many nods to the famous director. And since 2001 (the year, not the movie) I have seen more Kubrick and Spielberg films: AI is this incredibly special mesh that combines elements from both their styles, to create a film experience like nothing before.

But, I think I have seen this before. A couple of years ago I watched Pinocchio with my niece; a film I haven't seen since I was her age. The content shocked me: characters, settings, the theme and content that would be hard pressed to get into a children's movie these days. The beauty of AI retelling the story of Pinocchio is not lost on the duo either: in fact it's right there in the movie itself. David, a boy robot is going on a journey to become human, just as Pinocchio did half a century before. In fact, David is inspired by the actual story of Pinocchio: he seeks out the blue fairy who he believes can turn him into a real boy, which in turn should make his mother love him even more.

The core structure of their journey is nearly identical, including the trip into sin city and a final act into a water world. I also found myself looking at the structure of the film compared to other Kubrick films, including Full Metal Jacket. What is off-putting about that film could be the instant change of gear from boot camp life to war; a quick cut and the viewer is jolted into a different film. The same natural progression yet jolting experience happens here as well, when David is abandoned by his mother and finds himself in immediate turmoil by robot torturers. The film does not revisit the human family as it focuses on the journey ahead: it feels like a different movie, charging ahead with different pacing, characters and action.

For all the Kubrick elements in the movie, you can see the Spielberg touches everywhere. The combination of the two is fantastic. The characters are given depth and emotion in true Spielberg fashion; he keeps Kubrick's sexual undertones dialed back (the robot undressing at the beginning of the movie, and of course Rouge City - a literal city of pleasure and sin). The special effects are extraordinary, even by today's standards. My friend walked in on a scene with Teddy and remarked about how good it looks: was it CGI? Animatronic? Both? The character was done with such great effect that you wonder why more modern renditions of teddy bears come to life aren't better. The futuristic world that Kubrick and Spielberg have woven here is majestic, interesting and realistic. I've always noted how important it is for sci-fi movies to get this right, and AI sets the bar here.

The final theme I wanted to touch on was something that blew right past me in that theatre twelve years ago, and it's a theme that is ever present in science fiction: becoming human. Where in many stories, humans want to become robots for the obvious technical advantages, and robots always want to become human. David's creator believes it's love that will make this happen, and sets out to make a child robot that is capable of that feeling. It's a dream of many robots in popular culture to achieve the same thing: becoming as human as possible. We watched for seven seasons as Star Trek's Data pondered humanity, what it means to be human and his hunt for emotion. David is willing to stop at nothing to achieve this. And it never ends, as incredibly advanced robots from the future continue to learn about their creators, hoping to get as close as possible to becoming human as they can.

If this was the last movie I could see more than a decade ago, I would have been a bit disappointed. As it stands now though, I can see how this would be very fitting. It's a mature fairy tale that deserves your full attention. and I think will become a classic for years to come.

Temple Run 2

If you've been curious on what I've been playing (or doing for the majority of spare time) then this is it:

Yeah, I know: it's a basic game but it hits me in all the right places and I just can't stop playing it. The first Temple Run absorbed quite a bit of my time so it's only fitting that the sequel would do the same.

Number two is nearly identical to the first, but improved in every aspect: power ups, graphics, sound and course itself, which is drastically improved. The atmosphere - if this game can even hold one - is much improved. The major downside was performance, which I'm blaming on my now archaic iPhone 4. They released an update for the game earlier this week and performance is markedly increased. Random crashes have just about disappeared completely, although the game still lags every so often. This causes about 30% of my deaths: the game will either stop receiving input for a second (literally, a second) and I fly off an edge, or the game jumps ahead a few frames, and I don't have enough time to respond to an obstacle. In these cases, if I'm far enough along, I'll use a gem to continue the game. For the most part I just start again.

The above image has an impressive score - my highest to date - and I used a few gems to keep the game running. Typically I will continue four times before it becomes too expensive to do so.

Where does 27,713,170 points put somebody on the scoreboard: 30,260. Which apparently as of last night, was in the top 5% of all players (roughly 27 million). I feel good about this, but when I look at the top of the leader board there are impossibly high scores on there. I assume hacking/cheating, but I'm still happy with the top 5% anyway. Another interesting stat it keeps is your high score without using a "Save Me" (re: a continue). My top score puts me at 9,329 out of 10 million users with a score of 8,583,692 - top 5% again. All this, with a few power ups (including double coins, which definitely helps). And that seems to be the aim right now: to maximize all power ups. Once I do, it could be game over as I'll have nothing left to run for, or perhaps another game will come along that will just click.

Six Months of Movies

Starting on July 1, 2012 I began recording all the movies I saw on IMDB; you can create custom lists on the site and add movies as you see fit there, so I created a list called "Watched" and with the mobile app, I would quickly add a movie I just saw to that list. This was a natural evolution of a manual system I did a couple of years ago, where I recorded the film in an online spreadsheet. What I would find, though, is that I would often forget to add the title to the spreadsheet, and it became inaccurate over time to the point that I stopped recording the information.

I started doing this because my friend Art has kept ticket stubs to every single movie he's been to since the mid-90s. I've seen them: ziploc bags stuffed to capacity of receipts. My immediate thought was to digitize the data and have the ability to generate little reports and facts from the stubs. But, I don't think he had much interest in that, so I went ahead and did my own data accumulation. I went with IMDB simply because I myself always opening the app to take a look at the trivia and other details, so why not just add an extra step of adding it to the watched list?

So what are the numbers? From July to December (six months) I watched 61 movies, of which 21 of those were released in 2012. Now, it just so happens that I was recording my movie habits back in 2010 at the same time period, and in that year I took in 64 movies, which I find interesting. This past six months it has felt as though I've watched fewer movies, and I have, but as it turns out it's not nearly as big a drop as I had thought. I also have recorded the first six months of 2011, during time I watched 72 movies. Around mid-point 2011, I stopped recording movie data.

Here is some data:

Fig 1; July to December 2012

As you can see from the chart (fig 1, above), something horrible happened in October, and I'm not sure what it was. Only three movies consumed; August was a small dip as well, but it seems the average is about 12 to 13 movies per month. It will be interesting to see if I can maintain the high numbers of November and December.

Fig 2; 2010 to 2012 Comparison

Now, looking at the next chart (fig 2), we can see how 2010 corresponds to 2012 across the same period. It's interesting to note that a similar thing that happened in October of 2012 happened in August of 2010. In 2010, I would chalk that up to vacation and travel time, but I can't be completely certain. We finish the year off in December with the same number of movies watched, and a similar average of 12 per month (excluding the lowest month).

While I can't necessarily draw any conclusions from this, I look forward to doing more data crunching and analysis in the future. And since the movie information is coming from IMDB, there exists a great deal of metadata on the movie itself. For instance, I can rate movies and compare those ratings to the ones that the IMDB community have settled upon. While I do this at a quick glance, I can see that most of my ratings are lined up pretty well on par, with the biggest exception perhaps being Iron Sky, which I attributed a 3 out of 10, while on IMDB it has achieved a 6.1 out of 10. Perhaps I was being too harsh, but generally I don't put much important on my numerical rating as I do it infrequently and without standard.

I've upated my online Movie Log spreadsheet with the IMDB export, and can be found here: Movie Log

Monsters, Inc.

The third dimension seems to have failed at home, but it's still prominent in the theaters where it can truly be experienced. One of the nice bonuses of 3D being in theatres is the re-release of certain older, animated films such as Monsters, Inc. These animated movies benefit by being restructured for 3D without being mutilated in the regular film-based 2D to 3D conversion: since these movies exist digitally, they can be rendered again, with added cameras to form a "real" 3D experience. I can remember A Bug's Life being released on home video ages ago, and hearing about how they were able to render frames with elements being moved around to accommodate the dominant television aspect ratio of the time, 4:3. No cropping, or pan and scan required, and we end up with a better film experience depending on where we watch it. It was interesting to me then, and still is: these animated movies can evolve as time goes on in a way regular film can't.

Earlier last year, I was able to go see The Lion King in 3D, and it was generally a good experience. I had seen the film when I was a child, and hadn't seen it since. I was excited to see Monsters, Inc. in the theatre as I hold it as one of the better Pixar films. It also blew me away that it had originally come out in 2001. In any event, I had the perfect excuse to go see it now: my niece.

A while back I had brought my niece to see Gnomeo & Juliet. It was being played in an old theatre downtown (complete with stage) and was free: anybody could just walk in, and you kind of got what you paid for. My niece, being six years old, was eligible for a children's ticket to go see Monsters, yet the price of two tickets for us was above twenty dollars. 3D definitely charges a premium.

My niece loves going to the movies, and I have a feeling that most of the enjoyment comes from the food, and who can blame her? I've always loved the experience too and the popcorn has been a big part of that. But she wanted something else: pizza, and this still confounds me. So it was time to order food before going in, and I had been prepped. My father told me what they typically order, and I had it all memorized. Ordering all the different items was akin to fitting together Tetris pieces. As I persevered though, the slim, long piece came down and I was able to clear the whole order with ease. Getting it all into the theatre was a different story, as I questioned my nieces ability to not spill a small bucket of popcorn, her drink or what would be the most unfortunate accident: the fall of a slice of pizza. I wanted to carry it all - to be in control - but it was impossible, so she was in charge of her pizza, and I carried the rest in.

We went straight to the top, back row, to the extreme left (or right, depending on which way you are facing). There was a big bar in front of us, mounted on top of ledge - it's difficult to explain, but all you need to know is that it was hard to see over. I asked my niece if she could see the screen, and she shuffled to the front of the seat. She then stretched her neck as high it would go then meekly said "yeah." I wasn't buying it, so I had her move over a couple of seats. This may seem simple but we were already settled: popcorn, pizza, drinks and winter jackets, mitts and accessories were all involved. If you have children you can quickly relate as you become aware of how much stuff is involved with your little one. It's an effort.

Then, came the pizza. I had feared this, because I don't understand it. I worry about peperonis sliding off, or cheese dripping. The potential for a mess is gigantic, and I had forgot napkins. I quickly dashed back to concessions and grabbed a handful, and much to my delight my niece's pizza eating skills were hardened, and not a mess was made (short of some greasy fingers - unavoidable of course). The 3D glasses were on and we were enjoying the movie, and what a good movie it was. I'm not sure how much my niece enjoyed it as she seems rather indifferent to so many, but I got a real kick out of it. I'm not sure the third dimension really helped that much, but it didn't detract from the movie either. I never thought, eleven years ago, I would be rewatching a movie like Monsters, Inc with a niece or nephew, or even my own children. But I look forward to watching more of these "classics" with my niece and hopefully in the future, my own children. The local movie houses are showing more older films every year it seems, which gives us an opportunity to see movies we've never seen before, or share movies we enjoyed when we were younger with the next generation.

Flight

In no way was I particularly excited to see Flight, starring Denzel Washington - but sometimes there just isn't much selection. In this particular case, I was visiting my family up north, and I had agreed to go to a matinee showing of something. See, on Wednesday's at the Galaxy, they have "Stars and Strollers" which is geared towards going to the movie with your children where the lights are not as dim and nobody is going to get in trouble for having a screaming baby. What ends up happening is all the shows - including the adult rated ones - are empty save for a few people who are not chained to their desks. I imagine the children's movies would be busier, but Flight was empty, save for one other person, myself and parents.

My parents are avid movie goers. They will go see everything, and when the drive in was available they would quite often see the same movies two or three times, just for the sake of going. Going to the movies with my parents brought me back to a rich history of doing just such a thing. There's always a stigma about going with your parents and being embarrassed to be seen; this most often happens when you're a teenager. As a child you don't care, and now, being an adult, you don't care either. I didn't really hit that period during my teenage years where I was afraid to go: I recognized the benefits (they typically pay for the ticket and food) and I love movies. I want to go see these, so when friends are unable or unwilling, the situation becomes ideal.

I must have been seventeen when Lost in Space (1998) came out, and I found myself in the local multiplex with my parents. A couple of years later I would be out to see The Others (2001) and dozens of others throughout my time in high school and university. These two seem prominent in my mind, but not quite as much when I went to see Star Trek Nemesis (2002). Because North Bay had a terrible theatre at the time, the trio of us would often drive out to Sudbury to go to movies. The Silvercity there had stadium seating, big screens and good popcorn, all of which was lacking from the flat theatre in the local mall. I imagine we went at least twice a month, and without incident. But this one particular time, I had to urinate: a lot. I don't know what happened, as I was consuming the regular large soda, but for some reason my bladder decided to go into overdrive and just purge itself of any liquid about halfway through the film. I went for the pee break, rushed back in and was hit with another urge within ten minutes. It was confusing, but I tried to hold it until the end of the film, which was impossible. I ended up going two more times, for a total of three times within the space of thirty minutes (give or take).

This, was embarrassing. My mom whispered to me on my third trip "is everything ok?" Which clearly, it was not. But I know what it looks like: my stomach must have been upset and I was purging number two. I had to assume everyone in the theatre throught I had diarrhea, and I was compelled to announce to them all that it was not the case. It was perhaps the first time I was at the theatre with my parents and I was embarrassed, although not for the typical reasons; certainly, it was nothing they did. But I was affected, as every time I went to the theatre afterward I was paranoid that this urge to pee would hit me again, and I would need to keep getting up. I wanted to sit on the edges so that if I did, I wouldn't have to bother anyone. I didn't buy a drink for ages. After a while, I had anxiety about going to the show, and it began to include things other than bathroom breaks. I can't pinpoint what it was, but can only describe it as a weighty fear that pushed down on my shoulders. It would be present before the movie started, and often midway through. Suffice to say, my enjoyment of movies was being hindered, but I pushed through.

I thought about the anxiety before Flight, as I quite often do. But in the recent months I have let it go, and found peace. If I need to go in the middle of the movie, I would. It's no big deal. If we're five minutes late, that's alright too. Then it happened: about midway through the movie I felt the urge to pee, and recognized that this one was going to hit hard. There was no avoiding it, and I had to go. Instantly I was reminded of the past incident, and I sat back in the theatre worried that I would have to go again. But it didn't matter this time, and it didn't happen. I was able to enjoy the rest of the movie, with an empty bladder and no anxiety.

The movie itself? It was decent, but nothing to get excited about. Denzel does a decent job as he usually does, but I couldn't help but feel like he phoned this performance in a bit. The entire crash sequence is amazing, of course. But I loved the experience; going to the movies with my parents, in the middle of the afternoon, with not a care in the world. Relaxing without feeling like I have something to do at all times has been a struggle, and I think I got a bit of it during Flight.

War of the Worlds

As mentioned a while ago, War of the Worlds (2005) brings me about to face my fears. I casually caught the film just as it started on television the other night and was compelled to continue watching it; as it turns out this stands as one of my favourite films. Perhaps not top ten, but "up there" if you know what I mean - I fully expect that you don't (because I'm not certain myself). Inspired by seeing it on television I quickly switched over the media center so I could watch the movie in Bluray quality high definition, sans commercial breaks. Overall, it makes me appreciate the cinematic quality that Spielberg is so eloquently capable of delivering.

I want to talk about the fear that this movie drives into me though. I've mentioned before that the activities of the alien invaders is exactly what gets my spine tingling when they are able to turn people to dust immediately, and this still holds true. It's the finality, the suddenness of death and the inescapable aspect that really gets me. It's so easy to place myself on the street alongside all the others, watching in horror as those vibrant beams of doom come blasting along the sidewalk, killing indiscriminately. So this brings me to the first fear: immediate, unprepared death.

It's not uncommon for people to console themselves in the death of another when they justify that the person "went quickly" or "without pain." It makes us feel better, knowing that the process of dying - of letting go - will be a peaceful one. And we bring this desire to the most violent of deaths, as we reassure ourselves that the body will shut down the appropriate nerve centers, or will numb us until we simply "fall asleep." The deaths in War of the Worlds are instantaneous and violent: people explode in a flurry of dust. Instant cremation. But upon rewatching, I see that this is not necessarily the case: the most horrific imagery is the initial attack on the street. A woman is running toward us [the camera] when she is hit by the beam. We see her face contort in horror and agony as her cells are de-liquified. For the most brief moment she continues to move when her face is dust, then she explodes. It doesn't look good at all for that painless death, although it does happen relatively quickly. It's the same thing that Star Trek hints at in the episode of The Next Generation when a collector (who has kidnapped Data) is threatening everyone with these rare and in-humane phasers. These phasers function in the same manner as standard-issue ones on the "death" setting, in that they vaporize every molecule, nearly instantly. But they describe that this phaser, in particular, makes that process an agonizing one. The last second of your life will be spent in extreme torture as your body is turned inside out. The standard-issue phasers are somehow more humane in that they make your last second painless (I guess) but still quite final. As I watch people explode into clouds in War of the Worlds, I can't help but think how painful that must be, and I took no solace in how quickly that pain would be over.

This same scene brings me into my second terror: how inescapable death is. We can't outrun it, we can't hide from it: death will catch up with every single one of us, and that scares me. Those kill beams blast apart not only humans, but everything else too: buildings get blasted apart, cars are flipped into the air and generally, chaos ensues with anything the beam touches. Spielberg is quite literally showing us that you can't outrun death. But there are other instances where we see that you can't escape: no matter where Ray (Cruise) brings his family, the pods are there wreaking havoc. Just when you think they catch a bit of a break in the safety of a basement, they are forced to deal with the all-seeing eye, another literal device of the idea that the monster is always watching. They slink from room to room, avoiding the gaze of the eye, but it's practically relentless, and hyper-sensitive to the point where the slightest noise will get their attention. I can't help but think how quickly I would be caught as I'm not positive I could maintain absolute silence for so long. Not to mention that after the eye leaves, the tiny aliens march in out of curiosity, and to add insult to injury, little red veiny alien roots start covering the surface of everything.

When I was younger I would have the odd dream where I couldn't escape. In one instance, it was a giant tyrannosaurus is chasing me, and this rex is unstoppable. I run into a house and he just rips the roof off. In another dream, I'm sitting at my desk when a shadowy figure emerges from the wall and approaches me quickly; backed into the corner with nowhere to go, I await my fate at the hands of a supernatural beast. It's no wonder that War of the Worlds chooses a foe of unknowable strength and ability (as so often science fiction does). It may be weak to simply provide these aliens with the means to do as they please, but it works perfectly in the genre of horror films, which is exactly what Worlds is. Spielberg has returned to his roots of suspense with this adaptation, adding his masterful brush strokes to every frame. Indeed, I once read a critique of this movie years ago stating that Spielberg was a master of the scene, but in this particular case, a failure at bringing a cohesive movie together. I could never see it that way, as I now know that this is actually a horror film. Spielberg is able to bring his expertise in the creation of a scene and deliver to us an entire film that embodies our deepest fears - or at the very least, my own deep fears (aside from spiders and commitment, I suppose). A film could be judged by the emotion it brings out in the viewer, and this is no different here, it's just not the emotion that most people - I think - were expecting. Unlike Independence Day, this movie makes the death ray personal, and relateable. Not one of us is going to hide in Area 51, but we will hide in a basement.  None of us are ever going to fly to the mothership with a computer virus, but we would take a couple of grenades and sacrifice ourselves for our children. And it's these personal, human touches that Spielberg is able to convey perfectly on screen time and again; not just in War of the Worlds, but in all of his masterpieces.