The Horror of Remakes

Today while perusing my email, I came across the Videoport newsletter, and gave it my customary skim-through to see if anything interesting was happening at the awesomest of video rental establishments. As my eye traveled down the page, it fell upon the headline, "Teaser Trailer from 'Nightmare on Elm Street' delivers the goods". My immediate reaction was, "Nooooooo!" I clicked on the link and proceeded to play said trailer, which was released via MySpace. When I saw the words "from producer Michael Bay" appear on-screen, my immediate reaction was, "Nooooooo!"

Clearly, I'm quite skeptical about the new version of A Nightmare on Elm Street. Growing up, I was a fan of the series (except the second installment, which was truly bad, and not even in a so-bad-it's-good kind of way. I am still wary of lovebirds, lest one attack the other, chase after a bunch of humans, and then spontaneously combust). It's always difficult to see something one had an affection for in its original form undergo a "re-imagining". The primary issue I have with the idea of a remake is a Freddy Krueger other than Robert Englund. Whereas the monsters of Friday the 13th and Halloween were best remembered for their masks, Englund provided the face of his character through 8 films and a few TV series. After having watched the trailer, I am still extremely doubtful, yet intrigued despite myself. I suppose we'll have to wait until April of 2010 for the verdict.

Revisiting classic horror franchises has been somewhat of an epidemic in Hollywood in recent years. I can't say that the Friday the 13th retread caused me any distress, as I've never seen the original, and wasn't tempted enough to see the new version. The new version of Halloween did bother me, but because I have never seen the original of this film either (I'm prepared to be beaten for this admission), the reason it does is that Rob Zombie bothers me. The man believes in the greatness of his filmmaking, daring to take on a horror classic, even after creating the atrocity that was House of 1000 Corpses. (By the time the young female protagonist dressed in a bunny costume was being chased through a field by the psycho redneck family, I collected my wits long enough to wonder how I'd made it this far into the the film. And how did Rainn Wilson end up involved in this mess? John, this may actually be a good selection for Bed Time Movies.)

One film I have seen in both its original and remade incarnations is the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I'll be blunt. The new version was awful. What made the original so effective, and so horrifying, was everything that was left to the viewer's imagination. The remake took the opportunity to show, in bloody, gory, grisly detail, everything that the original made you picture in your head. It just goes to show how far Hollywood has drifted from what makes a film truly frightening.

In summary, Hollywood's recent attempts to reimagine horror classics don't bode well for the updated A Nightmare on Elm Street. It remains to be seen whether, 9...10... Freddy really will be back again.

(For those who are curious, the new teaser trailer can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-tSvrkKx2Y)

Dogs... Gorillas... what?

Last night I was innocently watching some television and playing on the computer when I was assaulted by images from another surreal movie trailer (I'm sure we all remember the guinea pigs outfitted in spy gear... I'm still recovering from that one). I'm of the opinion that you need to see it for yourself before reading my reactions to it. Go ahead. I'll wait.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhY8AP806tU&feature=related

Now, since I was also using the computer at the time, my attention was somewhat diverted, so the thought process went something like this:
-Hey, slapstick! Kid getting hit in the face with a soccer ball. *giggle*
-Robin Williams.. hit or miss. Looks like it might be one of his over-the-top roles.
-Aw, John Travolta. I really try to just block out the memory of Battlefield Earth due to the soft spot I've had for him since childhood. Plus, he shot Marvin in the face.
-Yay! Seth Green!
-...did I just see... is that... is he...? Seth Green is singing All Out of Love in the arms of a gorilla. Let me repeat that. Seth Green is singing All Out of Love in the arms of a gorilla. I think I need to check and verify that there is only one empty beer bottle sitting on the counter right now.

First guinea pigs, now gorillas. I think the film production companies are trying to make me doubt my own sanity (such as it is). Please feel free to share your impressions of this cinematic curiosity... once the shock wears off...

In the interest of inter-blog cooperation...

From John Swinconeck, the creator of the awesomeness that is theFiver, comes another exercise in blogging entertainment. I'll let the description from the blog speak for itself:

"Bed Time Movies:
A case of insomnia, no cable TV, and a strange array of free titles with which to download. I began to Twitter whatever thoughts I was having about whichever film I was watching – generally the cheesier the better – and it became a game to see how far I could get into the movie and how much I could Tweet before falling asleep, and how much would make sense the following day. So if you like strange observational humor and movies featuring Kevin Costner/Kevin Sorbo, truck-driving orangutans, and the apocalypse, you're likely disturbed. If so, you've come to the right place."

Check it out here:

http://bedtimemovies.blogspot.com/

And don't forget to keep reading theFiver, not only because it's awesome, but also because you may occasionally be treated to a guest post by yours truly...

http://thefiver.net/

Pop culture blog overload! Hooray!

Travels in Maine, Volume 1: Bah Hahbah and A Giant Boot

I'm a Massachusetts girl born and raised, and have lived in Maine for only about a year now. I'm sadly deficient in knowledge of my new state, having traveled around it very little. This past weekend I made up for that a little bit. I was treated to a tour of Bar Harbor, thanks to my friend Nicole; I also got to play in a rather famous Freeport destination in the company of my friend John.

Now, Bar Harbor is absolutely gorgeous, and I had a great time there. I could try to wax poetic about the beauty of the cliffs and the water and the sky, but that would be a lot of words, and probably wouldn't be that interesting to read. I'm not so good with the poetry. A glance at some photos of the area is enough to make you want to go there if you haven't been already. I'll just share a few random thoughts from my journey.

First, it's a great idea to take in your surroundings on the way there (especially during a long drive). I was inordinately entertained by "Pete's Pretty Good Ice Cream" and was disappointed that it wasn't open yet as I drove by so that I could verify that the ice cream was, in fact, pretty good. Not great maybe, but pretty good. Also, I swear I saw the restaurant from the Goonies along the road as well. It was all run down and boarded up, and I think the Fratellis might have escaped and been hiding in there...

Second, a word of advice: the popovers at Jordan Pond House are worth it, especially if you are trying them for the first time. However, it is not all that advisable to hike up the South Bubble immediately after eating said popovers and drinking chai. But if you do, at least you won't feel bad about the calories consumed!

The day after returning home from my lovely Bar Harbor trip, I continued my Maine education with my first real visit to an iconic Maine institution: LL Bean (using the bathroom there after a Wallflowers concert didn't count), in Freeport. You can't miss the place; right out front is a giant boot. One might wonder, however, why this particular product was chosen as the symbol for the store, given that those boots are, well, pretty ugly. It also begs the question of whether there is a giant ass somewhere that it is meant to kick. In any case, within the store you can purchase not only the footwear itself, but vanilla cookies created in its image.

Once you cross the threshold, you find yourself in a wonderland of outdoorsy items. Are you a fan of firearms? You'll love it here! Want to check out the local varieties of fish? You're in luck; not only is there a trout pond, but also a tank at which you can look those fish right in the eye due to an indentation in the bottom of the tank, below which is a chair. Then of course there is the clothing, footwear, home goods, and food items. It's a fabulous place in which to wander aimlessly and take it all in.

Speaking of food items, apparently A. Wilbur's Candy is closed on Monday evenings. Just a heads-up so that you, dear reader, may be spared the disgruntlement we felt whilst not being able to fulfill a chocolate craving. We were forced to return to LL Bean, where they do have a decent array of candy, some of it actually from A. Wilbur. Beware of the gummi worm container; it's pretty disturbing. Why would you label a sugary treat with a drawing of an astonished worm impaled on a hook, watching as an open-mouthed cartoon fish approaches to devour it? I can recommend the dark chocolate-covered cashews, although the price is a little scary. Mmmm... dark chocolate-covered cashews...

On that note, thus endeth my travelogue this time around. Until next time...

Guest Post: Movie merits of ‘Star Trek,’ ‘District 9’

Here it is, folks... my very first guest post! (And there was much rejoicing... yaaaaaay!) Thanks to my good friend John Swinconeck for contributing to my humble blog. Enjoy his take on a couple of the notable big screen events this summer.

Movie merits of ‘Star Trek,’ ‘District 9’

Well, the summer movie season is at last behind us. It’s time to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off, napkin up the blood and entrails, and take a look at the damage done. A quick look at movie grosses on Rotten Tomatoes reveals, none too surprisingly, that the top films of the summer were sci-fi adventure. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen was the highest grossing popcorn flick over the summer. (Interestingly, the amount of money it took in, over $400 million, is inverse to its mere 19 percent ranking on the tomato meter.)

I confess I didn’t see Michael Bay’s tribute to gigantic digital explosions. Summer was a busy time of year for me, as I was occupied by all manner of sock-drawer sorting. Also, teaching my parakeet not to defecate on my arm is quite involved (he still has a long way to go). Plus, I was real busy sorting my collection of DVDs and rating songs in my iTunes library. So you see, there just wasn’t time to watch the runny, fecal splatter of Michael Bay’s latest cinematic abomination.

Star Trek was the fifth-highest grossing film, taking in over $257 million, making it the most financially successful film of the venerable franchise. It has a 95 percent freshness rating, although it was written by Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci, who also wrote the Transformers film, leaving me scratching my head so badly that large clumps of scalp and hair have fallen out, revealing large patches of pink, suppurating tissue and the occasional glimpse of bone that is my skull. Perhaps I should call my doctor.

My sock drawer sorted and my parakeet sequestered, I managed to see Star Trek twice. Once was in a regular, Ma & Pa humble theater with stadium seating and booming digital surround sound. My other screening was much more recent, in the film’s second run in IMAX. You need to see it in this format. Only IMAX, with its enormous screen and crystal-perfect picture, reveals every detail of Zachary Quinto’s five o’clock shadow and the mole near Chris Pine’s ear.

Paramount had a lot riding on director J.J. Abrams’ reboot, and the results paid off spectacularly. It’s not perfect, and Roger Ebert’s C+ rating resonated with me (I had read his review shortly before going to the IMAX screening). This film doesn’t strictly adhere to Star Trek creator and noted philanderer Gene Roddenberry’s vision, wherein the Enterprise’s crew was more likely to mentally out-maneuver the god-like aliens that were frequently adversaries. Abrams’ vision is louder, more flashy. A lot less talk and a lot more frying of Romulans using 13,000 instances of lens-flare. Still, it was fun to share an adventure with these familiar characters again – revisiting the Enterprise’s bridge was like coming home for us Trekkies (Side note: Trekkies who insist on calling themselves Trekkers ought to just give up the ghost and refer to themselves by their proper name: douche bags.)

It’s no surprise that Star Trek, Transformers and G.I. Joe: The Rise of Jingoism did so well over the summer. These are big, slam-bam films with hefty promotional budgets that carry on a franchise.

The dark horse sci-fi film of the summer was District 9, an allegory against allowing mid-level bureaucrats to get too close to the giant crickets segregated in a Johannesburg slum. You’ll just find that he gets some form of alien barbeque sauce squirted in his face and before long he’s growing a freaking lobster claw out of his shoulder.

There was some mild debate when the film finally opened in South Africa in August over its apartheid analogy. District 9 deals with forced segregation and the forcible removal of alien refugees from their camp, and recalls the forced relocation of black South Africans from the real-life District 6 area of Johannesburg during apartheid.

By no means was it a perfect film. However, any work that stirs debate over its message, or delivery thereof (as opposed to debating the merits of public Autobot urination) deserves credit. Like Star Trek, it was worth seeing twice.

Live long and prosper, and don’t tinker with the special sauce.

John Swinconeck is a photographer and writer. His music blog should be read religiously at thefiver.net.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

I read pretty much incessantly. I visit the library on a regular basis, and more often than not come home with a pile of books, of nearly any genre. One area into which I had never ventured was that of comic books, or graphic novels. A few months ago, however, I picked up the first volume of the Sandman series, both because I love Neil Gaiman, and on the recommendation of a few friends.

As I just mentioned, I am a huge fan of Neil Gaiman and have read almost all of the novels and short stories he has published. (In fact, my web address name for this blog was inspired by The Graveyard Book, one of the best things I've read in a very long time. Maybe ever.) So, despite some skepticism, I decided to give the graphic novels a try. I certainly didn't regret it.

Initially, I had to adjust to the style of the graphic novel format. When reading a regular book, the author paints a picture using his or her words, which you interpret in your imagination; with a graphic novel, you interpret the pictures that have been drawn for you while you also take in the story. After reading the first volume in the series, I judged it merely very good, but continuing through the books, I saw Gaiman beginning to hit his stride, and collectively the series became an amazing piece of work.

So many elements are combined throughout the Sandman series. Gaiman incorporates myth, religion, literature and history in telling the stories of Dream and his dysfunctional (and fascinating) family of the Endless. Much like in his novels, the horrifying and the humorous are interspersed, and the "real" and "imaginary" are not clearly delineated, but mixed together until they become inseparable. Sometimes the Sandman takes center stage, and sometimes he is merely a presence in the background of the story. His moral ambiguity, and his development throughout the series, add to the uniqueness of the work. The artists change from volume to volume as well, each giving a different visual rendering of Dream.

I am not alone in my regard for the books; each volume features an introduction by such illustrious names as Clive Barker, Stephen King, and Harlan Ellison. As soon as I finished the last volume of the series, I picked up the first one again at my next library trip. It's that good. Whether you are a comics devotee or, like me, had never picked up a graphic novel before, I highly recommend the Sandman books.