Friday, September 23, 2005
Battlestar Galactica season finale: a modern-poetical response
NO!!!!
Not January. Not January.
Now.
Now!
NOW!!!
Are you listening to me, Ronald Moore?
...
...I guess not.
...is it January yet?
...
...is it now?
...
...how about now?
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Not January. Not January.
Now.
Now!
NOW!!!
Are you listening to me, Ronald Moore?
...
...I guess not.
...is it January yet?
...
...is it now?
...
...how about now?
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Harry Potter trailers now up
There are two trailers for the upcoming fourth Harry Potter movie, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, now available for those interested.
This one is the teaser trailer available at the official Harry Potter movie site. It clocks in at about eighty seconds and opens with a very nice montage of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, showing their growth over the course of the movies. For anyone who's watched kids grow up with thoroughly mixed emotions, it's quite evocative, for something found in a mega-blockbuster preview. Unfortunately, the rest of the teaser is just a series of disjointed images of mayhem that don't quite measure up to the opening seconds.
The longer, and superior, full trailer is currently only available here at Moviefone. It's about two minutes long and features a great deal more of the story and a couple of amusing character moments.
It's this second trailer that really whets my appetite for the movie.
And if you'd told me four years ago, when I was leaving the theater after watching the first movie, that I'd be using the phrase "whets my appetite" in connection to a trailer for another Harry Potter movie, I'd've referred you for counseling for your drug problem. The first two movies, directed by Chris Columbus, presented the Potterverse as a comparatively clean, well-lit place that would have been right at home as an attraction at a Disney theme park: slick, overproduced, and utterly uncompelling. It wasn't until Alfonso Cuaron showed up for Prisoner of Azkaban, hands-down the best movie of the series so far, that Hogwarts seemed like a thousand year-old wizarding school rather than a set, or that the people who inhabited its dank corridors might be human beings rather than plot devices (not that even Prisoner was a marvel of characterization, but it was serviceable enough).
Goblet of Fire looks set to continue the grittier feel established by Prisoner. Part of this, no doubt, is the maturing of its principal actors, who not only have honed their craft over the course of the movies, but who have had the opportunity to learn their characters to a depth of understanding usually available only to actors portraying regulars on television. Part of it is the production design, which by first impressions does not appear to have slipped back to the superficial slickness of the first two installments, though it's hard to tell from even the two-minute trailer.
But the major impulse for the films' darker tone is the turn its source material took; Goblet of Fire is the first book in which a major character (or at least a major minor character) dies on-stage, and is also the first in which the series' antagonist, Voldemort, appears as anything but an incorporeal specter -- and promptly murders a helpless senior citizen.
The deaths set up the book's most poignant scene, as Harry attempts to escape Voldemort's clutches; I'll say no more so as not to spoil it. I'm hoping the movie doesn't botch it; that it gets it at least as right as Cuaron and company got the "Expecto Patronam" scene from the climax of Prisoner of Azkaban.
If nothing else, Goblet should be an interesting diversion while we wait for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
(I'm aware that Harry Potter fanhood carries an assortment of baggage with it in evangelical circles. I find myself in general agreement with Chuck Colson; and if I had children of my own, they wouldn't read the books without some very detailed discussions of the behavior of the characters and the true nature of magic, as well as the true Source of all power.)
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This one is the teaser trailer available at the official Harry Potter movie site. It clocks in at about eighty seconds and opens with a very nice montage of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, showing their growth over the course of the movies. For anyone who's watched kids grow up with thoroughly mixed emotions, it's quite evocative, for something found in a mega-blockbuster preview. Unfortunately, the rest of the teaser is just a series of disjointed images of mayhem that don't quite measure up to the opening seconds.
The longer, and superior, full trailer is currently only available here at Moviefone. It's about two minutes long and features a great deal more of the story and a couple of amusing character moments.
It's this second trailer that really whets my appetite for the movie.
And if you'd told me four years ago, when I was leaving the theater after watching the first movie, that I'd be using the phrase "whets my appetite" in connection to a trailer for another Harry Potter movie, I'd've referred you for counseling for your drug problem. The first two movies, directed by Chris Columbus, presented the Potterverse as a comparatively clean, well-lit place that would have been right at home as an attraction at a Disney theme park: slick, overproduced, and utterly uncompelling. It wasn't until Alfonso Cuaron showed up for Prisoner of Azkaban, hands-down the best movie of the series so far, that Hogwarts seemed like a thousand year-old wizarding school rather than a set, or that the people who inhabited its dank corridors might be human beings rather than plot devices (not that even Prisoner was a marvel of characterization, but it was serviceable enough).
Goblet of Fire looks set to continue the grittier feel established by Prisoner. Part of this, no doubt, is the maturing of its principal actors, who not only have honed their craft over the course of the movies, but who have had the opportunity to learn their characters to a depth of understanding usually available only to actors portraying regulars on television. Part of it is the production design, which by first impressions does not appear to have slipped back to the superficial slickness of the first two installments, though it's hard to tell from even the two-minute trailer.
But the major impulse for the films' darker tone is the turn its source material took; Goblet of Fire is the first book in which a major character (or at least a major minor character) dies on-stage, and is also the first in which the series' antagonist, Voldemort, appears as anything but an incorporeal specter -- and promptly murders a helpless senior citizen.
The deaths set up the book's most poignant scene, as Harry attempts to escape Voldemort's clutches; I'll say no more so as not to spoil it. I'm hoping the movie doesn't botch it; that it gets it at least as right as Cuaron and company got the "Expecto Patronam" scene from the climax of Prisoner of Azkaban.
If nothing else, Goblet should be an interesting diversion while we wait for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
(I'm aware that Harry Potter fanhood carries an assortment of baggage with it in evangelical circles. I find myself in general agreement with Chuck Colson; and if I had children of my own, they wouldn't read the books without some very detailed discussions of the behavior of the characters and the true nature of magic, as well as the true Source of all power.)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Joy in Mudville
They did it.
The streak is over. The corner is turned... for tonight, anyway. The books are balanced and all is right with the world.
Tonight, our girls scored their first softball victory.
Both the varsity and the JV teams won -- and though of course my primary concern was with the JV, I freely admit that the varsity game was the more exciting. It was won in the top of the seventh, with the bases loaded and two outs and a truly titanic struggle between pitcher and batter for the final out. I wish I'd taken notes. I wish I could reconstruct how we got to the 3-2 count, the foul after foul after foul until every stomach in the stadium was in knots, the final strike slapping into the catcher's mitt and the explosion of joy from families and friends who'd stuck with the team through the harsh, winless season. It was a hardfought game and it was a long time coming and victory was sweet.
Almost as sweet was the JV's win... though two things conspire to sap the JV's victory of some of its wonder:
For one thing, it's hard to deny that the opponent gave us more help than they gave themselves. The game was a see-saw through the first two innings, with first the opponent and then our girls and then our opponents again obtaining two-run leads... but all that ended in the bottom of the third, when the opponent's pitcher could throw no strikes. Walk after walk went out, first loading the bases and then bringing in two runs to tie... and then two more to go ahead 6-4. One of our girls was clocked in the helmet by an errant pitch; a scary moment, but emblematic of the opponent's pitching breakdown. Our girls held them scoreless in the top of the fourth, and the bad pitching continued in the bottom of the fourth, with two more unearned runs goosing our total to eight runs versus four.
And then the second sheen-tarnishing thing happened: The stadium lights went out. And because by this point it was pushing eight o'clock, and dark was falling hard, the game was called.
Now, I really don't think it made any difference except in the margin of victory: unless the opponent was warming up a fresh pitcher that was going to reverse their fortunes, that four-run lead finally looked solid to me. The way our girls were playing defense -- their normal stinginess with runs marred by occasional unforced errors, usually at the worst possible time -- I think they could have held the opponent to at most one or two more runs. Enough to scare but not enough to win. I think our girls were headed for victory no matter what.
But from what I was told by the other guys in the announcer's booth (more on that in a moment), NGMSAL rules state that a game can't be called before the bottom of the fifth. They expect a protest from the other team.
But doggone it, a win is a win is a win. And our girls won. They won and I was there to see it. (I'd actually started to think I was a jinx for them; I was dead sure that they would lose every game I attended and then win whichever one I missed first. I've seldom been so glad to be wrong.) Tomorrow Coach Johnston should be in a better mood than her usual post-game depression with its mask of humor. And the girls have the taste of victory to replace the ashes they've had so far this season.
Not only was I there, but I allowed myself to be persuaded to announce the game: my voice on the loudspeakers, announcing my kids -- welcome to Murray County softball, starting lineups, please rise for our national anthem, play ball. Leading off for the Lady Indians, number four... Two games' worth, and it bought my ticket and a hotdog for dinner. And there were wins for our girls. Higher pay there could not be.
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The streak is over. The corner is turned... for tonight, anyway. The books are balanced and all is right with the world.
Tonight, our girls scored their first softball victory.
Both the varsity and the JV teams won -- and though of course my primary concern was with the JV, I freely admit that the varsity game was the more exciting. It was won in the top of the seventh, with the bases loaded and two outs and a truly titanic struggle between pitcher and batter for the final out. I wish I'd taken notes. I wish I could reconstruct how we got to the 3-2 count, the foul after foul after foul until every stomach in the stadium was in knots, the final strike slapping into the catcher's mitt and the explosion of joy from families and friends who'd stuck with the team through the harsh, winless season. It was a hardfought game and it was a long time coming and victory was sweet.
Almost as sweet was the JV's win... though two things conspire to sap the JV's victory of some of its wonder:
For one thing, it's hard to deny that the opponent gave us more help than they gave themselves. The game was a see-saw through the first two innings, with first the opponent and then our girls and then our opponents again obtaining two-run leads... but all that ended in the bottom of the third, when the opponent's pitcher could throw no strikes. Walk after walk went out, first loading the bases and then bringing in two runs to tie... and then two more to go ahead 6-4. One of our girls was clocked in the helmet by an errant pitch; a scary moment, but emblematic of the opponent's pitching breakdown. Our girls held them scoreless in the top of the fourth, and the bad pitching continued in the bottom of the fourth, with two more unearned runs goosing our total to eight runs versus four.
And then the second sheen-tarnishing thing happened: The stadium lights went out. And because by this point it was pushing eight o'clock, and dark was falling hard, the game was called.
Now, I really don't think it made any difference except in the margin of victory: unless the opponent was warming up a fresh pitcher that was going to reverse their fortunes, that four-run lead finally looked solid to me. The way our girls were playing defense -- their normal stinginess with runs marred by occasional unforced errors, usually at the worst possible time -- I think they could have held the opponent to at most one or two more runs. Enough to scare but not enough to win. I think our girls were headed for victory no matter what.
But from what I was told by the other guys in the announcer's booth (more on that in a moment), NGMSAL rules state that a game can't be called before the bottom of the fifth. They expect a protest from the other team.
But doggone it, a win is a win is a win. And our girls won. They won and I was there to see it. (I'd actually started to think I was a jinx for them; I was dead sure that they would lose every game I attended and then win whichever one I missed first. I've seldom been so glad to be wrong.) Tomorrow Coach Johnston should be in a better mood than her usual post-game depression with its mask of humor. And the girls have the taste of victory to replace the ashes they've had so far this season.
Not only was I there, but I allowed myself to be persuaded to announce the game: my voice on the loudspeakers, announcing my kids -- welcome to Murray County softball, starting lineups, please rise for our national anthem, play ball. Leading off for the Lady Indians, number four... Two games' worth, and it bought my ticket and a hotdog for dinner. And there were wins for our girls. Higher pay there could not be.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Cinema Veritas
I've become a contributor to World Magazine's movie blog, Cinema Veritas. CV is a blog about movies from a Christian perspective, but don't let that scare you; it's hardly one of those sites that ranks films in terms of their "family-friendliness." Not that there's anything necessarily wrong with that, but CV's aims are a bit higher.
Follow the link in this post or the permanent one in the column to the left, and drop by often.
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Follow the link in this post or the permanent one in the column to the left, and drop by often.
Monday, September 05, 2005
I'd Like to Buy the World a Blunt Instrument
Saw Transporter 2 this afternoon. It was preposterous and obviously great fun for everyone involved, including me. Three stars.
The only truly distasteful part of the movie was the commercials that played before it; specifically, that stupid Coke commercial ("Everybody Chill," I think it's called) where a bunch of apparently unemployed and meticulously multi-ethnic twenty-somethings gather on a rooftop in a major metropolitan center and stare hopefully (as in, full of hope, with hope permeating their bodies) in the same direction, which I take to be southeast. They are facing the same way, I suppose, in order to avoid the hypnotic slack-jawed gaze of their leader, who's plucking and strumming a Gibson dobro in a way that would have made Robert Johnson demand his soul back, if he'd ever played that way, while half singing/half rapping the modern, updated version of "I'd Like to Buy the World a Coke." The new version struggles mightily not to be as sappy and glassy-eyed as the original; it wants street cred, it's trying to be real, yo. It fails. "It's a simple thing/What the world wants today/Coca-Cola," the chorus of underachieving grungesters avers, while the dobro-strummer emits the whitest "Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout" you've ever heard.
It's a bad sign for your peace/love/understanding/merchandising song when it makes you want to take the dobro away from the singer and beat him to death with it.
And once he's dead, you'll turn to his astonished congregation and proclaim, "You are free now! I have freed you from the satanic influence of this merchandising svengali, this false rooftop messiah! Run! Run, now! Run home, and take showers!"
And what does Coke care for world peace and understanding? Well, I suppose it is easier to drink their products in a peaceful environment. I've never popped the tab on a Sprite while under machine-gun fire, but I can see how it would present its unique complications.
The really horrible thing is that, at some point tomorrow, I will probably drink a Coke. And Coke's marketing department will assume it's because of, rather than despite, their rooftop peace-cultists.
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The only truly distasteful part of the movie was the commercials that played before it; specifically, that stupid Coke commercial ("Everybody Chill," I think it's called) where a bunch of apparently unemployed and meticulously multi-ethnic twenty-somethings gather on a rooftop in a major metropolitan center and stare hopefully (as in, full of hope, with hope permeating their bodies) in the same direction, which I take to be southeast. They are facing the same way, I suppose, in order to avoid the hypnotic slack-jawed gaze of their leader, who's plucking and strumming a Gibson dobro in a way that would have made Robert Johnson demand his soul back, if he'd ever played that way, while half singing/half rapping the modern, updated version of "I'd Like to Buy the World a Coke." The new version struggles mightily not to be as sappy and glassy-eyed as the original; it wants street cred, it's trying to be real, yo. It fails. "It's a simple thing/What the world wants today/Coca-Cola," the chorus of underachieving grungesters avers, while the dobro-strummer emits the whitest "Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout" you've ever heard.
It's a bad sign for your peace/love/understanding/merchandising song when it makes you want to take the dobro away from the singer and beat him to death with it.
And once he's dead, you'll turn to his astonished congregation and proclaim, "You are free now! I have freed you from the satanic influence of this merchandising svengali, this false rooftop messiah! Run! Run, now! Run home, and take showers!"
And what does Coke care for world peace and understanding? Well, I suppose it is easier to drink their products in a peaceful environment. I've never popped the tab on a Sprite while under machine-gun fire, but I can see how it would present its unique complications.
The really horrible thing is that, at some point tomorrow, I will probably drink a Coke. And Coke's marketing department will assume it's because of, rather than despite, their rooftop peace-cultists.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
One more sobering thought...
Hurricane season isn't over yet.
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Katrina and God's Purpose
A couple of times this weekend, I've started to write a post that would summarize my reaction to Katrina. I've started and stopped, overwhelmed by the enormity of it. But James Spurgeon at The Howling Coyote has spared me the burden by posting a four-part series about God's purpose in sending the storm, which I think is spot-on. A summative excerpt:
Read the whole thing.
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We may not know why God brought this disaster along exactly when and where he did, but we can know that God does nothing unjust or without purpose.
That's what I said: God had a purpose in it. People cringe when you say that, thinking that to say such a thing impeaches God's character. But the only alternative to saying that God brought this hurricane along on purpose is to say that he allowed it to happen for no purpose at all.
The fact is that it happened and God allowed it to happen, had complete control over it the whole time, could have done anything he wished with it. So we're going to have to come face to face with that and deal with it. We are either going to say that God had a purpose in it and that his purpose is ultimately good and wise or we are going to say that God had no purpose at all in it, he just allows this stuff to happen on its own for no good reason.
Now you tell me which view is an indictment on God's character...
The world sees this tragedy unfold and questions God, tries to attribute blame to him for what they perceive as wrong-doing on his part. Too often, Christians try to look at the victims and say that they must have been worse sinners than the rest or that God was judging them all for specific sins. So while the world judges God, the Church often judges the victims.Both miss the real message. The one we are to judge in the wake of this tragedy is ourself. God is pointing to the world and saying, "Repent." God is pointing to the Church and saying, "Repent."
You see, there were actually no innocents who perished in this tragedy. The fact is, all of Adam's race is guilty. Jesus tells us clearly that the victims in this storm are not more guilty than anyone else. Rather than marvel that so many died, we should marvel that God is so longsuffering to the rest of us in allowing us to live.
Read the whole thing.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Recontextualization
Funny how a song you absolutely hate the first time you hear it will grow on you once it's recontextualized for you.
For example, right this moment I'm listening to Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's version of "Over the Rainbow," a song I detested when I first heard a few bars of it on that old eToys.com commercial (no link as it's long out of business) in about 1999. But a couple of years later, when Dr. Green's daughter played it for him as he died on E.R., I came to like it quite a bit.
Not that I expect or want a funeral anytime soon, but this song could be played at mine, and I wouldn't object. Even if I could.
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For example, right this moment I'm listening to Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's version of "Over the Rainbow," a song I detested when I first heard a few bars of it on that old eToys.com commercial (no link as it's long out of business) in about 1999. But a couple of years later, when Dr. Green's daughter played it for him as he died on E.R., I came to like it quite a bit.
Not that I expect or want a funeral anytime soon, but this song could be played at mine, and I wouldn't object. Even if I could.
