Things that shouldn't be....

The trend of turning anything and everything into a movie has been building for a long time now. Do we blame this on the success of comic book movies? Is Transformers or Pirates of the Caribbean responsible?

No. The trend cannot be pegged on any single property or film. Rather, we must look to producers who demand films be anchored to something tangible before risking their money and reputation. There was a time when such bets were placed on the basis of the actors attached, but over the past decade it has been often established that no real correlation between names and success exists.

So, in standard studio logic, the major production companies have moved on to other criteria. If you found yourself hoping that they'd begin focusing on scripts, ideas, or talent, prepare for disappointment.

It seems now that what matters is that the property being developed is, in some sense, established. It is no longer a factor whether that property is suited for a film; so long as it exists and is well known, a movie is possible.

We in The Middle Room must admit that this rationale has served us well in the past. The string of superhero movies and 80's cartoons has yet to tire us out, and Pirates of the Caribbean - arguably the franchise that opened this door - deserves the accolades it's received.

Alas, the final line has now been crossed. I refer not to the surprise adaptation of Candy Land, which is being made by a competent director and may actually deserve attention. Nor do I refer to the confusing decision to adapt Viewmaster into a major motion picture, which - and we're speculating far in advance, mind you - may be a strong contender for several Razzies.

No, these stepped up to a line, but they did not cross it. That could only be done by Asteroids. You may wonder what makes Asteroids stand out as the archetype of studio excess and absurdity. Very well, we shall explain.

Candy Land, despite being simplistic, at least has an aesthetic, as well as several built in characters and settings. Whether these are GOOD or not is, at this point, peripheral. The studio which bought the rights bought something.

Likewise, in buying the rights to Viewmaster, the studio has acquired the rights to the iconic toy. While I find it entirely absurd, the plot is obvious: a character, most likely either a child, but possibly a parent (if it is a parent, expect them to be portrayed by one of the following actors: Brendon Fraser, Will Ferrell, or Steve Carrel), will acquire what seems to be a simple toy, but actually has the power to transport them into strange worlds and adventures. It will almost certainly be horrible, but at least it will tie-in with the toy.

Now consider Asteroids. The original video game, of which I'm something of a fan, contains no characters, no real design that's usable by an art department, absolutely no plot, and only four major elements:

1. A space ship.
2. Asteroids.
3. Aliens.
4. Teleportation.

None of these elements are trademarked. In fact, all exist in the mediocre remake of Lost in Space. Think about it: doesn't that film has as much right to claim it's related to Asteroids as whatever will be produced?

So, whatever money changed hands was paid so a studio could produce and market a science fiction film under the name, "Asteroids." Even if it turns out to be a fantastic picture, that won't be any reflection of its source.

And I doubt anyone is more likely to see a movie named "Asteroids" than one called "Meteors", "Meteoriods", "Comets", or "Space-Rocks from Space". Actually, the last one would probably be far more profitable. If any studios are interested, The Middle Room will sell the rights to "Space-Rocks from Space" for half of whatever was paid for "Asteroids".

In Perspective

When we say, for instance, that Japan is fundamentally cooler than America will ever be, it is more than mere hyperbole: it is, rather, a serious hypothesis founded on scientifically conducted, empirical research.

I offer, for your consideration, the town of Cawker City, Kansas, which is home to the world's largest ball of twine (narrowly beating out the competition in Darwin, Minnesota).

In contrast, Japan is building giant robots. I mean no disrespect towards the hard working individuals and communities which have created those balls of twine, but I feel there is little controversy in suggesting that Japan may have won out.

Quality Family Entertainment

When we think back on those films which shaped us as children, we observe that, in most cases, they were either terrifying, traumatic, or both. We refer to those exceptional films and television specials intended for a young audience, yet offering tragedy and horror.

The most famous of these was Bambi, of course, which taught a generation about death. But certainly there are darker forces in the universe than hunters. We refer to those things beyond time and between the holes in reality.

We speak of Lovecraftian horrors, of darkest evil and fearsome magic. We speak of things that always hunger and can never die.

In other words, good wholesome family fun.

Of course, there are some who reject the notion that such things should be made available to the young. To them, we say, "Bah!" The Secret of NIMH may have scared me as a child, but it opened my eyes to greater possibilities.

As soon as I was able to sit through it. In college.

Movies like The Secret of NIMH and The Dark Crystal taught us fear, The Last Unicorn taught us regret, Watership Down showed us a side of adventure and war most movies wouldn't touch, and Who Framed Roger Rabbit showed us the nature of evil.

But then something happened. Studios became timid. Then came the long years where such films were all but extinct. Oh, there was the occasional Chicken Run or Babe, but these were few and far between.

At last, the drought seems to be ending. Recent years have seen Pixar begin to touch on Disney's dark past with the opening to Finding Nemo and Wall-E's post-apocalyptic wasteland. And this year has already seen the release of Coraline, with 9 coming up this fall.

On top of this, Tim Burton is working on a reimagining of Alice in Wonderland reminiscent of American McGee's Alice.

The importance of these movies cannot be overstated. These filmmakers are the architects of nightmare. We in The Middle Room applaud such work: may the next generation's dreams be as fascinating and horrific as ours. They are, after all, what sculpted us into who we are today.

Heroes Need Not Apply

Yesterday, I had something of a revelation about a film. In itself, this is not uncommon: the majority of revelations are inspired by movies. In fact, while it is not commonly acknowledged, the Book of Revelations began when John experienced a vision, two thousand years into the future, centered on a multiplex. It is unknown what movie John watched, gazing in fear and doubt through the swirling vortex of time, but a careful reading suggests it may have been Roland Emmerich's Godzilla.

But we aren't here to discuss Emmerich's failure. Rather, we've gathered to consider an under-appreciated work by George Miller. I refer, of course, to the 1985 classic, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.

It occurred to me yesterday that Thunderdome was released before its time; shown to a world which was unprepared to fully appreciate its nuances. As a result, it was viewed superficially. Sure, critics and audiences were able to note the religious connections, with Max serving as a Moses figure (for more on this, I again direct you to Gabriel McKee's Gospel According to Science Fiction). Likewise, the references to Lord of the Flies were easily noted, as were the allusions to Peter Pan. And I doubt anyone failed to comprehend Miller's statement that a civilization built wholly upon self interest was destined to collapse: it was as straightforward, after all, as his observations on the nature of myth and development of religion.

Certainly, these were in the movie, but they were dressing for the surface. The true brilliance of Thunderdome lies beneath. The movie, I've realized, is an allegory for unemployment.

The first half of the movie concerns itself with Mad Max acquiring and losing a job. Despite promising skills, he is simply unwilling to work as required by his job description. As a result, he is summarily fired by his employer. Of course, Thunderdome is the sort of job one doesn't mind losing. It's difficult work with demanding responsibilities and an unimpressive benefits package. But at least it's something.

At this point, the film delves into symbolism. Unemployed, Mad Max must set out in search of new work. To illustrate this existential state, he is depicted as being tied backwards to a crazed donkey while wearing a giant novelty head.

I can think of no better description of the job-hunting process.

Through luck, he finds himself at an oasis, where a group of children are seeking a savior. He is given an interview, but it quickly becomes apparent he lacks the required skills; in this case, the ability to summon wind and carry them to a promised land upon the skeletal frame of a crashed jetliner.

By the end of the picture, the children embrace another applicant. While the pilot lacks the credentials the children had hoped for, at least he has a plane, which transports them to a new home. In the gutted remains of Sydney, they hang lights as signals to the wanderers and the lost: "Help Wanted."

Thunderdome's message was wasted in the 1980's, but perhaps today, it will have better luck attracting a sympathetic audience. There are, after all, plenty who now have time to rewatch the film and consider its implications.

And, if anyone sees lights in the distance, do let me know. Because, as of today, all I want is what's beyond Thunderdome.

Book Review: Vampires Today: The Truth About Modern Vampirism

Recently, I ordered Vampires Today: The Truth About Modern Vampirism from Amazon, and have just now finished the last page. There are many elements which make Joseph Laycock's look at the vampiric subculture both fascinating and impressive. It can be said - accurately, I would add - that the work is educational without being dull, entertaining without being exploitative, funny without being insulting, and honest without being biased.

It is the work's impartiality that I find most impressive. Years ago, I studied religion back in Hampshire College (along with Joseph Laycock, by the way, which gets us past the requisite "interest of full disclosure" acknowledgement). While it was easy to find resources about large, organized religions, the only information about smaller movements tended to be produced by practitioners themselves. Trying to locate unbiased information about the Neo-Pagan movement, for instance, was an exercise in frustration: anything I found online was suspect by it's very nature.

"Vampires Today" was written for scholars of religion and cultural trends who are writing and approaching those who identify as vampires. Laycock provides a careful appraisal of the community, revealing, among other things, that these are not frightening people. Despite some very entertaining warnings, Laycock describes his interactions as being relatively mundane; certainly no more unusual than one would expect from other groups outside the mainstream.

The central point of the book is that the Vampire Movement cannot be understood as a religion, at all, but rather a culturally significant identity. Laycock's arguments are direct and rational, and his conclusions are highly convincing.

Laycock's exploration delves into the subcultures, organizations, and religions of the "real vampire," as well as their portrayal in the media. Laycock refuses to speculate on the validity of the vampires' claims: like any good scholar, he is observing, not judging.

While the book seems to have been written for academics, it has far greater appeal. Judging by the movement's positive reaction, it seems likely that many in the vampire community will purchase "Vampires Today." In addition, I would strongly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the supernatural and history of the occult movement.

But, more than anyone else, this book needs to find its way into the hands of the myriad confused and depressed teenagers all over the world. New religious and cultural movements suffer from a lack of impartial literature, and, as a result, it's difficult to gain any perspective or realistic appraisal. Right now, there are unknown numbers of Twilight fans who are toying with the idea of adopting the label "vampire." This book provides a window into that world, along with a summary of vampire literature, film, and role playing games, which could provide an invaluable resource to those trying to define themselves. And, whatever choice they make, they'd be better prepared for what they would find.

Likewise, if you are a football player looking to elevate and better direct your insults against the goths you're giving wedgies; there is no better resource available. Truly, this is a work with wide appeal.

Whoever you are, if you are interested in the vampire subculture in any capacity, Laycock's book is a far better place to start than Google.

Joseph Laycock is an "independent scholar" and a graduate of Harvard University. He is not a vampire himself, however I can confirm that, during a long running Dungeons & Dragons game I ran, he once played a wizard who became a vampire.

Movie Review: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

In its first day of release, "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" managed to make more than sixty million dollars, all the while receiving a Tomatometer in the low twenties. The success, I think, is mainly owed to the fact that no major movies have been released in almost a month.

It is easy to dismiss it as merely a "bad" movie, as all but a slim minority of critics have done, but such a description is an incomplete picture. The movie is strange cocktail of awesome and awful. It is a flawed gift to geeks, but a gift nonetheless.

First, know that this is less a movie than a string of disparate moments and disjointed ideas. I would say that at least half the characters have plot arcs or situations which are never resolved. I could easily make a list of characters whose fates were never explained. I fear it would be a long list.

And yet, there are advantages to this format. The good parts - and there are several - are able to stand on their own, unencumbered by context.

Beware, though, that like Autobots and Decepticons, every good aspect is mirrored by a negative.

It is not my intention to spoil this movie for those who've yet to see it, but I cannot go on without provide some specifics. I shall try to be ambiguous where possible, but those wishing to avoid all detail should consider themselves warned.

The movie shines brightest during two fight sequences: one starring Optimus Prime; the other, Bumble Bee. These moments, while brief, raise the bar on action.

Unfortunately, most of the remaining action suffers from the same confused jumble of motion that hindered the first. There are many times where it is simply impossible to tell what is happening or even who it's happening to.

There are some brilliant characters, among them Jetfire, who is impossible to dislike. For this, the price is painfully high: we must endure "The Twins." It is difficult to explain these to one who's yet to experience them: imagine if Jar Jar Binks had a brother and they spent a movie bickering.

To the extent that the movie works, it does so as something of an unintentional parody. The sheer levels of cliche and melodrama are off any mathematical model developed to measure such phenomena. Even the Shatner Scale can't contain it. Yet this allows the movie to function as a comedy. Likewise, the reoccurring montages of military preparation open the door to numerous possible drinking games: this is a movie whose potential has yet to be realized.

The plot of "Revenge of the Fallen" tends to devolve into something of a video game, where obstacles drop randomly between characters and their arbitrary objectives. But it's impossible to take such things seriously: there's too much fun to be had. There are robots here which could have carried a movie of their own; who cares if the main villains are less inspired?

Before I finish, I do have one final ax to grind with the first few minutes. Optimus Prime is a hero and a warrior, who deserves better than to be portrayed coldly executing a helpless foe. I'll dwell no longer on this here.

On the "Chronicles of Riddick" scale, "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" is deserving of two and a half stars. Keep in mind that this is something of an average, however: there are scenes far more deserving.

This is not a good movie; indeed, it's hardly a movie at all. But, if you've already seen Star Trek, there are more than enough cool moments here to recommend it.

Listen Up

I expect most readers of The Middle Room will have seen this already, but, in case you missed it, Gabriel McKee, geek prophet, was recently interviewed on "Listen Up," a Canadian program about religion:



I particularly like the part where Gabe is asked to expand on the possibility of using a time machine to visit Jesus Christ.