The Dark Knight

A famous man once said, "Batman's a scientist."

In the second movie ever made about Batman, The Dark Knight, Batman is indeed a scientist - a physicist to be precise. And the two laws of physics explored in this film are: 1) what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, and 2) madness is a lot like gravity; all it needs is a little push.

I had to see The Dark Knight twice to even know if I liked it or not. Okay, I knew I liked it. But I wasn't sure why, or how much. Besides breaking several records and doing a killing at the box office, it has also seemed to ignite a lot of conversation. The critics, for the most part, have lauded its praises. Which is weird for a Batman movie. Certainly, star Heath Ledger's recent death has added fuel to the fire. But regardless of your opinion, this movie is creating buzz. And it's too hard to dismiss - it inspires debate and conversation. That in and of itself is a good sign.

The synopsis is thus: Approximately one year has passed since Batman Begins ended (that reminds me: how do you like the tagline for the new Terminator? "The Ending Begins." Nothing sells an epic movie like an epic, ironic catchphrase that doesn't make any sense.). Gotham's streets are a little bit cleaner. There's a new D.A. in town, Harvey Dent, and he's as determined to fight corruption and crime as Batman - only he doesn't wear a mask, and his batcave is the courtroom. Strides are being made in putting away members of the mob, thanks to the cooperation and determination of Lieutenant Gordon. Batman has inspired some oddballs to don black hockey pads and masks and try to help him put criminals behind bars - but all in all Gotham is in much better shape.

Enter the Joker. A madman with no motive and no background (don't believe his agonized narrative about his abusive father), he has a penchant for upsetting the criminal underworld as much as he does the law. But in their desperation to get Batman out of the way, and by so doing saving their cash and their hides, the mob reaches out to a man "they didn't fully understand."

There's an elaborate plot involving the mob, a Chinese money launderer, and a weaselly blackmailer. But the real story is about the Joker - who is evil incarnate - and the three men in Gotham who would stand up to fight this evil. Rachel Dawes, who was an annoying character in the first movie, is an even more annoying character in this movie. She's caught in the middle of the battle, both for Gotham and for her (by the two men who love her). And the entire city is tested, several times, to show whether there is still good left or if they've been corrupted to their core.

My biggest complaint is this film's lack of focus. My second viewing clarified many things, and it's definitely one of those movies so chock full of details that it deserves at least two viewings. But at 2.5 hours, it covers more ground than is completely necessary to the central plot. Not that there's anything really tangential or extraneous; no doubt any additional editing would have been painful for the director. But it could really stand to be trimmed down and the focus narrowed, and I could think of a few scenes or subplots that could be sacrificed without compromising the picture.

The Joker is, indeed, a fantastic villain. I came away from the first viewing, like everyone else, in awe of Ledger's performance. And I don't know whether all of the effusive praise I've been hearing had a backlash effect on me, but I was less impressed with the performance on my second viewing. It's still captivating and very interesting, and the Joker truly feels like evil. I have no complaints about Ledger's job whatsoever. But I believe his death must be clouding many people's vision, to warrant the kind of historic importance they are ascribing to this performance.

The Joker is such a great villain because of the level of evil he represents. Nameless, merciless evil - that cannot be threatened physically, psychologically, or emotionally. Evil enough to laugh and make jokes out of his destruction. He is not motivated by greed, or revenge, or anything tangible. For him, evil is sport, it is a lifestyle. He is so evil, he places people in seemingly impossible moral dilemmas, and puts the responsibility of life and death in their trembling hands. He is sick, because he gives people a choice without leaving them any choice. He makes Ra's al Ghul from the first movie look like Oskar Schindler; he makes the mob look like the Goodfeathers. Bruce Wayne is convinced that criminals are easy to figure out, to determine a motive and a weakness. Alfred, on the other hand, knows that "some men just want to watch the world burn."

The beauty is, in the face of such insanity and wickedness, people rise out of the corruption that has heretofore defined the city and exhibit genuine goodness. Oh it's baby steps, but it's enough to show Batman - if not the Joker - that deep down, people aren't as wicked as the Joker believes they are. The high levels of corruption only serve to motor men of integrity like Alfred and Lucius Fox - and the triumvirate of Gordon, Dent, and Batman.

And The Dark Knight really is about those three men. I was frustrated that this film isn't really about Batman, unlike Begins. Bruce Wayne/Batman gets about equal screentime as the three other major characters in the film. But I now appreciate how the story centers around all three men and how they face evil. In one sense, they're all working together. But they each have independent methods, beliefs, and rules. The Joker preys on people who abide by rules. For him, there are none.

Plenty of rules are broken in this movie - by the bad guys as well as the good guys. For some, this may be an unacceptable trait. Personally, I choose to suspend any "Christians-shouldn't-even-speed" beliefs and accept that in superhero worlds, laws get broken. I don't care if Batman blows up cars to intimidate the bad guys. I don't care if he breaks international treaties. I don't care if he "spies" on the entire city. I'm a little uncomfortable with his methods of interrogation at one point in the movie, but it's understandable...because Bruce Wayne is human. There's one law that Batman never breaks: out of a sense of justice rooted in compassion (or is it the other way around?), he never kills.

The evil/madness of the Joker infects some. It inspires panic and terror in most. But the unstoppable force meets a few immovable objects, namely the Dark Knight himself. What the Joker does to Gotham's noble triumvirate is both tragic and inspiring. He proved that the best of us can be brought to his level; but he also proved that his level of evil brings out the best in others.

Upon reflection, I love the ending. It is true to the outcast/outlaw nature of most superheroes, but especially of Batman. It reinforces Batman's commitment to protecting the people of Gotham, no matter the cost to himself. It is, in many ways, repaying Harvey Dent for a similar choice he made earlier in the film. Batman's choice honors his belief in something greater and more powerful than a hero. It honors his belief in an idea, an ideal. He chooses to serve the idea rather than himself. And that is noble.

Is it worth it to deceive people, to hide them from the truth? Maybe not. But I like to look at it as an act of limited revelation. For now, people can't know the whole truth. For now. Maybe that's a copout. I know that Christ said the truth would set us free. But Christ also told his disciples not to tell anyone who he was when he sent them out among the people. I'm not trying to cheapen what Christ did or give undue weight to a Batman movie. But this film does wrestle with some pretty heavy, spiritual issues. How important is truth? What will people do if they know the truth? There's a line near the very end of the film that says, "Sometimes the truth isn't good enough. People need to have their faith rewarded." I guess I'm just not sure.

If you've seen the film, remember when Gordon had to "deceive" his family for their own safety? Sure it was painful. And sure, it wasn't completely honest. But was it necessary? That episode, to me, is representative of that area where people are saved by not knowing the truth...at least for a time.

Superheroes have always lied. To protect their identity. To protect the ones they love. Because they know that the truth can be used advantageously by those who want to wreak havoc. Satan's lies always have a morsel of truth in them. Like many things created by God, the devil can twist the truth for his pleasure and our destruction.

And likewise, sometimes God chooses not to reveal certain truths to us. Because we're not mature enough yet. Because we can't handle it. Because His sense of timing is far superior to our own.

There's obviously a huge difference between choosing not to reveal something and flat-out lying. I know that. But maybe The Dark Knight is a fallen, dark shadow of that basic principle - that the truth, at special times and in special circumstances, should be withheld.

Whatever the film's message does, it provokes a lot of questions. I like that.

Warnings

There's a fair amount of mid-level language in the film, uttered mostly by the bad guys - but occasionally by the good ones.

Some have said this movie is too violent. I disagree. That's not to say it isn't violent. There are several explosions and several deaths, but very little is graphically shown. We see one man shot up, several bodies that were killed offscreen, some cars getting blindsided, lots of punching and kicking, a sure-to-be famous death-by-pencil, and one man breaking his legs in a fall (probably the most unsettling violence, in my opinion). It's not a kid's movie, for sure, and the violence is probably more on par with a crime drama than a comic book movie.

But I think violence is being confused for psychological trauma, of which there is plenty. The Joker threatens to do many violent things, and we are dragged along in the suspense. But he rarely goes through with what we're anticipating, and if he does we don't really see it. There are knives held in people's mouths, guns held to people's heads (including a child's), and other similar traumatic images. I'm not discounting the impact of these images. They are rightly disturbing. But they rarely segue into actual, visible violence.

Bruce's playboy persona yields a few immodestly-clad women. Fortunately it's all just for show for him, and the scenes are brief. But they are still very annoying.

Redeeming Value

Yes.

This film deals with evil, corruption, compromise, and deception. You won't always like the choices people make. Is someone as evil as the Joker worth breaking the law to stop? Are people so fragile and faithless that they need to be lied to in order to act rightly?

See it just for the questions it poses. You may not agree with it, but it never hurts to wrestle with such fundamental ideas. And as dark as this film is, your faith in humanity is rewarded at several turns - the ferry scene being one of the most memorable. I love this film for how it exposes the true mettle of flawed people in tremendously difficult times. What would I do in such a city? In such a time? Against such evil as the Joker? Could I be bought out if my mother was in the hospital? Would I break the law to save people I loved?

Would I become a scapegoat, and suffer the treatment of a criminal, only to protect a world that hates me? Would I devote my life to such a thankless, bloodied vocation? Sounds awfully Christlike. And while the messiah analogy is not perfect, it's still there. If only in a dark shadow of the real thing.

Wall•E

And the award for the cutest doggone little animated robot that crept into my life and stole my heart goes to...

Wall•E, of course.

Wall•E is as grand, epic, and moving as the very best parts of E.T. The parallels between the two characters are many, actually. Both are lost and lonely, a little clumsy, speaking primarily through body language and remarkably human eyes...the list goes on.

The brief synopsis, if you haven't seen it, is thus: 700 years into the future, mankind has abandoned Planet Earth for a perennial cruise about the galaxy in a giant megastore of a spaceship, sipping their comestibles through a straw, inflating in their tubbiness, and losing touch with their humanity. Meanwhile, the clean-up work on a trash-ravaged Earth is left to a brand of robots. Wall•E, that adorable little roving computer, is the only one still functioning. A probe sent by the Axiom (that floating Sam's Club) sends the sleek EVE, and Wall•E is instantly smitten. An unlikely love story (talk about a cliché phrase) develops, and leads the unrelentingly loyal Wall•E across the stars and on a mission to retrieve EVE and bring man back to his home turf.

Simple enough. And it is a very simple story, but one pregnant with metaphors and meaning. At its heart it is essentially about the love cultivated between the girl who's fixed to her programming, and a hapless boy who refuses to be limited by his.

Love is simple, yes. But it is a subject ripe with stories, imagery, emotions, and inspiration. Wall•E taps into the innocent, pure bliss of love. There is no innuendo, no crude jokes, no jealous boyfriends or love triangles. The purity of this relationship is encapsulated by the image of holding hands - a seemingly juvenile idea, but here so potently and magnanimously presented.

More than holding hands, though, this love is about loyalty. It's about self-sacrifice. It's about risking all, giving up all, fighting through adversity, and in a sense giving up your very life for the one you love. But rather than being a tragedy like Romeo and Juliet, it crescendos with rebirth - new life, new hope, and reunion.

Besides the love story, there's the whole science-fiction proposition of man trashing the earth beyond livability, abandoning it for guiltless laziness and enslavement to mind-numbing technology, then being confronted with themselves and finally choosing to do the right thing and go back home. People have complained that this movie is just an environmentalist propaganda piece. It's just not so. I know the climate in which we live predisposes us to be extra sensitive about whatever political buzz topics are flying around; it's easy, when we see a flashing green sign with a treeleaf on it, to cry out "TREE HUGGERS!"

But this movie is not about the sanctity of plant life, nor is it an indictment of big corporations and capitalism. The backdrop of the main story, the love story, is simply a sci-fi hypothesis - what if we trashed the world so bad we had to get off of it, and what if technology became so convenient and so powerful that we grew completely lazy and dependent? First of all, it's not an unthinkable future, considering how lazy and wasteful we are tempted to be in a materialistic, technocratic society. The message about taking care of our home (you might use the word "stewardship") is not a bad one, nor an irrelevant one. Believe me, I despise the environmental religion and Al Gore's little global warming edition of Triumph of the Will. But Wall•E is simply not touting an agenda, only a simple little morality tale.

The animation is breathtaking. The worlds created - both the bleak, post-apocalyptic earth, and the Axiom with its celestial surroundings - are incredibly detailed and gorgeous. The character animation is phenomenal, capturing such nuanced human emotions and expressions that Wall•E and EVE are far more interesting and believable than a ton of actors around. The music, though slightly underwhelming, still has a transporting power.

The real miracle is in telling this story with almost no dialogue. Only body language, and robotic beeps and elemental simulations of the human voice. There's no mistaking Wall•E's initial loneliness, his captivation by EVE, his awkward attempts at getting her attention, his sacrificial service to her, her eventual realization of his kindness, and their ultimate union. It's all there, and it's all told in such a tender, sometimes amusing, sometimes heartbreaking - always genuine way.

Warnings
None. Are you kidding me? This movie is so pure. And it whistles like a Jiminy Cricket conscience on the shoulders of all the other CGI "kids" films out there that are convinced they need to make subtle dirty jokes and drop pop cultural references in order to entertain. When you have a quality story, quality characters, and quality animation, those cheap parlor tricks of selling tickets and getting a wider demographic inside the theater are exposed as frauds.

Redeeming Value
As if you haven't already figured out, I'm madly in love with this film. It is visual poetry. It is a groundbreaking feat in wordless storytelling. It has romance, comedy, drama, and science-fiction. It weaves a timeless yarn, and it does so in a spellbinding, flat-out gorgeous vehicle.

Purity. True love. Kindness. Sacrifice. And cute little robot voices. I'm sorry if my unabashed love for this film and its values has the smackings of Peter Pan syndrome. But these elements, told well as they are here, do much more good for the heart and the soul than any Oscar-winning story about corruption, wickedness, compromise, intrigue, adultery, or whatever else usually gets recognition.

I'm metaphorically here at the proverbial theater, patting the open seat next to me...hoping you'll join me in watching this incredible film.

Arts and Compassion

"We all live rather prescribed and narrow lives. I’m just this one white guy, 60-something years old. I’ll never be anything else except older. I’ve got one set of kids. I’ve got one wife. That’s it for me. But then there’s this great, great library of experiences that’s housed in the liberal arts. Fictional worlds created that I can put on like this gown or coat, eyes I can borrow through which to see the world. I can be a black housewife. I can be a king. I can be a 19th-century fur trapper. I can be a C.I.A. spy. I can be a warrior. I can learn what it feels like to be tried and convicted, to confess, to win the beautiful girl, lose the beautiful girl. It’s a way of understanding the world that functions beyond intellect and it teaches and touches through feeling and experience even when the experience is purely that of the imagination. Compassion finally is the great gift of literature. Fiction, and by that I mean the aesthetic creation of all artificial worlds, must persuade you to interpret the world through compassion."

- Sydney Pollack (1934-2008)

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

When a new film is as highly anticipated and part of a series as classic and endearing as Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, it is almost impossible to separate expectation from analysis. It is so hard to refrain from the question, “what could it have been?”

This dilemma might explain how I could exit the theater at 2:30 AM the other morning/night full of praise for the movie I had just seen, while still feeling incredibly disappointed. I was entertained, even thrilled. I laughed. I got goose bumps. I spent two hours with some old friends, some of my best (proverbial) friends when it comes to cinema. And yet, I felt let down and confused. I wanted so badly to love this movie, to put it high atop a pedestal and experience those warm, fuzzy feelings like I used to when I watched Indiana Jones as a kid. But two things prevented that from happening: 1) This is not the Indiana Jones I watched as a kid, and 2) I am not that kid anymore. I’ve become somewhat of…a cynic.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (that’s the last time I’m typing out the full title!) is true to the form laid down by the original three Indy films. Beginning with the classic transfer from the Paramount logo to part of the scenery (in this case a rather corny one), the movie immediately throws us into a bygone era, right in the middle of an exciting adventure with formidable antagonists. Our beloved hero is back – he looks older, he sounds older, but that’s him all right.

An evil villain from an evil country is seeking a mysterious artifact, and they know that the only one who can help them find it is Indiana Jones, that rogue adventurer who makes being an archaeologist and college professor look absolutely awesome.

Spielberg and Lucas remind us repeatedly that we’re now in the 1950s – by playing the song “Hound Dog,” casting the Russians as evil commies, showing a nuclear test in a faux town out in the Nevada desert, and portraying the government-induced paranoia and red hunting of the time…among other things. Some of these references are fun, but after a while they seem to be screaming, “See? It’s the 50s!”

Some of the familiar faces are sadly missing from Indy’s life – only framed pictures on a desk are there to represent Marcus Brody and Henry Jones, Sr. The new character of Mutt Williams is introduced early on, and the young/old sparring chemistry between Indy and Mutt is fun to watch. Even Marion is back! But without the presence of other classic Indy characters, and the odd presence of several brand new characters who we’re just supposed to trust that they go way back with Indy, it just leaves a sense of Indiana Jones being in the wrong movie.

You may find the explanation of the artifact and the consequent climax annoying or jarring in relation to previous Indy films. It didn’t bother me, and I thought plot-wise it fit in just fine with the rest of the canon. But there certainly was something powerful, and even comforting, about having the focus be on Biblical lore in the first and third movies. I guess Temple of Doom allows me to accept a purely “secular” Indiana Jones.

The action scenes were fantastic. I was utterly engaged in every one, and they really did possess the spirit of the action in the old movies. Harrison Ford can still take a beating and put up a fight, and it was so much fun to watch him ride around on a motorcycle, use his iconic whip, knock out bad guys with a punch to the face, and never ever lose his hat.

However…the overall feeling that I had leaving the theater, regardless of all my praise, was that this Indiana Jones was missing magic. It followed the same structure and had a lot of the characteristics of the old ones, but it felt flat and tired to me.

My favorite of the old three is Last Crusade. It too dealt with the subject of getting old, of confronting the decisions we’ve made in our life, and of the importance of family. But whereas these qualities gave Last Crusade a sweet maturity and introspection that lifted it high above average, Crystal Skull almost seems to revert back to juvenility and deal with these subjects in a bored, shallow, two-dimensional way. All of the filmmakers and Harrison Ford are 20 years older – but rather than giving this picture a stamp of maturity and wisdom, it seems like a bunch of old men trying to make a movie for kids.

One of the most disappointing things of all is the music. Anyone who knows me is aware of the dangerously idolatrous obsession I have with John Williams. I adore this man’s work, and I have come to idolize and trust him to the point that not only do I highly anticipate a new score from him, not only do I expect great things from a new score of his, but I actually have the sense that I know I will love the score without having heard it. Perhaps this level of expectation is what resulted in disappointment, but I can’t remember the last time I was this underwhelmed and uninspired by a new John Williams score. It was boring and brooding, and when it tried to be fun and exciting it just sounded rote and tired. All the frenzied magic and memorable themes of the old Indiana Jones scores were totally absent from this score – except really for the references he made to those previous scores. I literally found myself involuntarily frowning and sighing at different points during the film because the score was such a letdown. I hope this changes with time and I grow to appreciate it more than I do now...

I sorely, desperately wanted to love this movie. And I did love being back with the character; I loved the action, the humor and banter – I loved a lot about it. I had a fun time. I suppose I was just expecting something different. I wanted the same timeless magic that exudes from those old movies. I especially wanted the emotional and personal resonance of Last Crusade. And I didn’t get it.

Warnings
There are only a few words uttered that you wouldn’t want to put in a family Christmas letter. There is some spooky stuff and a little bit of action/adventure violence, but this film is truly targeted at families.

Redeeming Value
One of the strengths of Crystal Skull is the emphasis it places on commitment and family. Whereas Indy was a glorified womanizer in the earlier three films, he is looking back on his life with wiser eyes in this one, ultimately unearthing the value of the family. The finale felt a little stilted and out of place, but ideologically and spiritually I loved the ending.

As mentioned earlier, I did miss the presence of God – as uninformed and Hollywood as his presence was in Raiders and Last Crusade – in this adventure of Indy. The feeling of scope and awe, the feeling that we’re dealing with something much bigger than ourselves, was lacking in this film. And I think that God’s absence is the cause. Still, the same complaint can be made of Temple of Doom and it’s a fun adventure, so this does not completely ruin the film for me.

Crystal Skull is a great family film. It’s a fun night at the movies, with great humor, thrilling action, mysterious locales, incredible sets, and of course, Harrison Ford. Much of the effort to make this feel like an 80’s adventure movie paid off – it’s great to see real stuntmen and real sets. But recreating the formula and all the technical filmmaking aspects of the old Indiana Jones movies does not inherently conjure up the charisma and allure that those films possessed. And that is my biggest complaint.

Still, the more I think about this movie, the more I want to see it again. Perhaps I'll write a completely different review 5 years from now. From my flying computer.

Driving Miss Daisy

I decided to revisit a timeless tearjerker last night. I can't explain why, but I've just had a hankering for Driving Miss Daisy recently. So I employed my free Blockbuster trade-in and took the plunge. It has been many years since I drove with Miss Daisy, and there were plenty of memories but also new observations and insights with this viewing.

Driving Miss Daisy tells the simple story of an aging white woman in 1950s Georgia who very reluctantly accepts the chauffeuring aid of a kind black man. The two forge a friendship over the course of 20-30 years during the era of prejudice right in the heart of the South. It is based on a play, and it works like a play - a heavy emphasis on the dialogue and strong performances. It is a character study of these two very different individuals, and it is also a tale of friendship and service.

Warnings

Just a few un-puritanical choice of words.

Redeeming Value

This film is pure happiness. It moves at a slow pace, which may deter some. It's best viewed when understood to originate from a play. But it is a sweet story that stars two great actors, whose dynamic working together is real and electric.

It is great to see the cranky, proud old Miss Daisy come to appreciate and even love (in the platonic sense) Hoke. We see a melting of her heart, like Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch before her, that is such a story of redemption. To keep things interesting, though, she does hold on to some of her pride and vinegar till the very last scene, so it is not a total transformation of character. But we grow to love her as she grows to love and appreciate Hoke. And she remains human with her little eccentricities and spicy personality (including an incurable distaste for her daughter-in-law).

There are no villains in this picture (except maybe the sassy cops in Alabama that seem to have something against blacks and Jews). There are only interesting, quirky people - some with flaws, but most of them pretty doggone nice. It isn't even that "dramatic" - I was kind of surprised not to find it in the Comedy section at Blockbuster. Nothing truly tragic happens, except for the sad march of time that makes people lose hair, eyesight, and mental faculties.

I place it in the funny/touching/depressing genre along with the beautiful Avalon. It's not really a movie about a story; it's just a movie about people. Sweet, interesting people. Sadly, it did not bring the tears last night. Perhaps it was the mood I was in, but it just barely began to tug on my heart before it let go.

A couple of things clouded my romantic, hanky-grabbing viewing experience. The passage of time was poorly represented with some less-than-stellar age makeup. I could fairly well buy Jessica Tandy and Morgan Freeman as aging, but Dan Akroyd as an old man was just awkward. There was just a gap of disbelief, and I'll blame it on the makeup.

I also noticed the absence of the windshield in several of the straight-on shots of the two leads driving in the car. Now I understand the logistical reasons for this - you want as clear a shot as possible, and reflections and light glares would impede that. But that's just the thing - I could see the light and the passing trees reflecting off all the other windows in the car, so it was all too obvious that the front windshield was not extant. A minor gripe, but a surprisingly distracting one.

Technical complaints aside, this is a genuinely wonderful film. I love seeing talented actors explore quirky characters, in this case with thick accents, mannerisms unique to the region and era, old age idiosyncracies, etc. Watching characters age over a span of many years is also a test of good actor, and these two pull it off. I find it funny that Morgan Freeman, who is still actively acting, played an old man in this film - and it was made 20 years ago.

Overcoming prejudice, opening up your heart to genuine friendship, learning to assume the best in people, being a servant - these are all fantastic themes, and are handled with subtlety and charm in Driving Miss Daisy.

I was so inspired that I created a new voice mail message doing my best Morgan Freeman/Hoke impression...which will most likely offend people. Bigots.

Horton Hears a Who!

I trust none of you will look down on me for breaking this long hiatus by looking at some light children's fare. I saw Horton Hears a Who! on Friday night (on a Digital Projection System, I might add), and I feel like reviewing it. And no, I will not stoop to the irritatingly predictable ploy of stuffing my review with Seussian rhymes.

As a classic Dr. Seuss book, Horton has a very well-known story - although I'll admit I wasn't as familiar with this story as I am with The Cat in the Hat or Green Eggs and Ham. Shame on me. The plot is basically thus: Horton, a carefree elephant, hears a faint screaming from a speck that happens to fly by. He comes to learn/believe that there is an entire population (of Whos, of course) on that speck, and that their world is in danger. He then goes to great lengths to get the Whos-bearing speck to a high, secure location - meeting many odds along the way. The story is split between Horton's "big" world and the Whos' microscopic world. Jim Carrey provides the voice for Horton, and good old Steve Carrell plays the Mayor of Whoville.

I absolutely loved this movie. I will tell you why in terse, fragmented sentences. Witty, funny dialogue. Hilarious voiceover work. Gorgeous, quirky animation. No reliance on innuendo or immediately dated pop culture references. A sweet, even Biblical message.

This flick did such a marvelous job of capturing Dr. Seuss' world. It's such a breath of fresh air after the abominable live-action interpretations of The Grinch and The Cat in the Hat. That world really only belongs in the realm of animation, and the computer animation here gives it an even more goofy, eye-popping quality.

The characters are idiosyncratic and lovable. I especially enjoyed the moronic Russian vulture villain. And, of course, Carrey and Carrell both breathe so much life and humor into their respective main characters. And, if you can believe it, there wasn't a solitary comic-relief character who dragged chunks of the movie down by being utterly obnoxious (isn't that a requirement for an animated children's movie?).

Warnings

Avoid this movie if you dislike children and/or joy.

Redeeming Value

Besides just being a good, clean G-rated kids movie, Horton Hears a Who! has a lot going for it. The message about there being inherent good in everyone - even that cranky old kangaroo - is valuable, and does not drip with the canned Hollywood sacharine of so many similar movies with a like message. And then there's the whole "belief in something even though it can't be seen, touched, or felt" that should perk up the ears of people of faith. There's nothing messianic about the plot, per se, but faith in the unseen (and the resulting persecution) is glorified and rewarded.

It's clever, it's genuinely hilarious at times - and it rises above the bog of mediocre/crass/cliché/uninspired/pointless CGI kids movies being pumped out of Hollywood these days. I highly recommend it. Unless, naturally, you do not enjoy having oppresive emotional burdens temporarily lightened or experiencing the light briefly returning to your eyes.

Alien

Let’s go back another few years to 1978. I just had the unique privilege of watching Alien and Aliens back to back. And while I’ve got classic sci-fi on the brain and a parasitic space octopus on the face, I’ll try to tackle at least one of these bad boys.

The original Alien was part of director Ridley Scott’s experiment back in the 70s/80s of trying his hand at several disparate genres. Blade Runner was his sci-fi film noir, Legend his fairy tale, and Alien his sci-fi horror flick. It is a film best appreciated when the horror genre is understood. If you want swashbuckling tales of a galaxy far, far away, or a high-octane, shoot-em-up man vs. monster flick – this ain’t yo movie. It is a slow, creeping, quiet horror film set in the eerie solitude of outer space.

A team of galactic truck drivers, for lack of a more accurate description, are towing a load of mined space ore back to their company’s home base. The film opens as they are waking from their hibernation, which should mean they’re nearly home. However, while they were sleeping, their fiancé had fallen head over heels for their goofy, lovable kid brother played by Bill Pullman. Also, their ship had stopped way before its destination because of a supposed distress signal. Contractual obligation forces them to land on the planet of the signal’s origin, and the problems commence.

On this dark blue, windy planet, not a single life form is to be found – except for an amalgamation of large green eggs incubating in a suspicious cave. One of the unlucky – and all too curious – crewmembers finds himself with a green squid wrapped around his face. Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) tries to obey protocol and keep the potential contamination out of the ship, but the suspicious science officer (Bilbo Baggins) overrides her orders.

Everyone is befuddled by this alien face-hugger. It bleeds acid through several levels of the ship when they try to cut it loose. And then, for no apparent reason, it disappears and the poor man seems suddenly quite alright – and boy is he hungry! Of course, we soon find out that the face-hugger alien impregnated another, creepier alien inside the man’s stomach, and we get one of the most famous scenes of outer space indigestion ever made.

So now this new little guy is running amuck on the ship, and starts slowly picking off one crewmember after another. It becomes a cat-and-mouse tale of elimination; only the cat is an elaborate, hammer-headed alien puppet created by Carlo Rambaldi, and the mice are scared humans of various ethnicities and genders...and the occasional robot.

Does anyone survive this maddening mayhem? Does the alien get his just desserts in the end? And whatever happens to Ripley’s adorable cat? I’ll not spoil these things for you, dear reader.

Warnings
In space, no one can hear you swear. Unless, of course, you’re being filmed. Consider yourself warned.

Redeeming Value
This isn’t a message movie. It isn’t a coming-of-age tale or a story about the triumph of the human spirit. That said, though, I would argue that there’s plenty of cinematic value to this little thriller.

I think you have to view Alien as an art film to really enjoy it. It is not an action film. And it really is more horror than science-fiction. Space is simply the eerie backdrop to an unsettling story about the thing slinking in the darkness. It moves at a slow pace, and thus requires some patience. You see, back in the 1970's, audiences could watch long scenes that unfolded and developed, without needing a parade of bite-sized, epilepsy-inducing sketches. So, unless you can watch it through that patient, 70's filter, you may find yourself bored with it.

It is a well-crafted film. The puppetry is impressive, and the climax is effectively intense. I was a little disappointed on this last viewing by not being as scared as I wanted to be – but it’s probably due to a callused familiarity with countless creatures and scare moments in countless films that owe their inspiration to movies like Alien. This is one of the frustrations about my generation: we’re so used to spaceships and creepy creatures that when we watch the groundbreaking films that paved the way for all the movies we’ve been surrounded with growing up, we’re not impressed. But I still appreciate Alien, and if you’re looking for a face-hugging, chest-bursting good time, you should check it out too.