So I saw the new Harry Potter movie and I have to tell you, it was a major let down. After the hours of entertainment and consistent excellence of the previous six movies, I was shocked that the producers allowed such a collapse in standards for the penultimate episode of this multibillion dollar worldwide franchise.
First of all, the special effects were a mess. I mean, animatronic owls? Really, guys? I remember the previous movies had state of the art computer generated graphics, and there was some of that in this one but other parts just looked cartoony. Some of it actually looked to me like hand drawn animation, which I thought did not mesh well with the rest of the movie.
A lot of the actors' English accents did not sound authentic. Some would drop in and out of different accents, others just spoke in a way that was nearly impossible to understand. The wands they used looked cheap, as if they were made out of plastic. They looked like toys you could buy at the store.
Many of the sets were very poor. The paint was cracked and honestly some of it looked like the kind of backdrops you would expect in a high school stage production, not a $200 million blockbuster. There were also a lot more house plants lying around than I think would be in a place like Hogwarts.
I was also thrown off by the giant monster truck rally that occurs in the middle of the movie. It completely derailed the story and felt very forced. The long shots of monster trucks loudly revving their engines really took me out of the world of magic and wonder that the filmmakers tried to create.
The product placement was crass and unsubtle. Ron Weasley never mentioned that he liked Mentos in any of the other movies, but in this one he seemed to take out mints every time he was on screen. He held the Mentos packaging in a way that was really unnatural and seemed to designed to get Mentos as close to the screen as possible.
Sometimes, in the middle of a scene, I got extremely frustrated because the camera would drift off away from the main action and just linger for a long time on staircases and other parts of the set. You could still hear the dialogue, but it was really difficult to follow what was going when you couldn't actually watch the actors perform their parts. Come on, that's like moviemaking 101 guys.
I thought it was very unnecessary to bring back Dumbledore after he died in the last movie (spoiler alert). But the way they decided to do it made it even worse. Portraying the deceased wizard as a brain in a vat was tasteless to say the least. Especially because the "brain in the vat" actually just looked like a lump of clay in a murky fish tank. The scenes where the characters just sat with Dumbledore's brain looking uncomfortable were not very dramatic. There was no dialogue, and the actors would enter and exit for seemingly no reason.
Denzel Washington seemed like an odd addition to the cast. I know he's a great actor, but his intensity seemed to frighten the children in the audience as well as many of the other actors in the many scenes he was in. I don't want to say affirmative action played a role in his unusual appearance in a movie of this kind, but I'm pretty sure affirmative action played a role in his unusual appearance in a movie of this kind.
All in all, it was a very poor experience from start to finish. Which reminds me, the movie was way too long. I remember the other movies were all well over two hours and I had no problem because they were adapted from very dense books that I have no intention of ever reading. But this one clocked in at nearly four hours, which I think is testing the limits of what's an acceptable running time for a children's movie. I actually left halfway through because I was bored and hungry. I made myself a ham sandwich and took a nap but when I woke up I remembered that I wanted to see the ending. So I went back to the theater to catch the last couple of scenes. When the credits rolled I realized why the movie was such a disaster. They had like twelve directors on this thing! Talk about too many cooks in the kitchen. Knowing that, the bizarre tonal shifts - like when a dramatic scene would suddenly turn comedic without warning - made a lot more sense. It's the worst movie I've seen since The Last Airbender (I know, I shouldn't say things I can't take back, but I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that it really came close to matching how bad The Last Airbender was).
Here's hoping Part II is better.
PS - Hermione was not naked in a single frame of this movie as far as I can tell. This was very annoying because I think that actress would look good naked and also I'm pretty sure there's only one movie left so they are running out of opportunities to have Hermione be naked for a few scenes. I know it's sort of a minor quibble considering the monumental raft of problems with the rest of the movie, but it's important to point out some of the obvious ways they could have redeemed the really shoddy work they did.
It occurs to me that in my last two betamax posts, I have made fairly showy references to two major rappers in a way that makes my love of hip hop rather conspicuous. It's true that I had a rather torrid affair with hip hop this summer. I discovered that Jay-Z is all of the following (using his words not mine): the "ruler," the "best-rapper-alive," an "American Gangster," a "black superhero," a "muhfuckin' renegade," as "real as it gets" (which is why they "feel him in the favelas in Brazil" since as you know "real recognize real"), made "from the cloth of the Kennedys" etcetera, etcetera. Here's a guy who apparently has the President of the United States "on the text" and is not afraid to tell the whole world about it. I have absolutely nothing in common with this giant who is from "the murder capital where [he] murders for capital" and yet I listen to his rhymes nonstop.
Look at that punnum! Best rapper alive, yo! Best rapper alive!
Ahem. Anyway, at the end of the summer I had the privilege of seeing the singular Snoop Dogg close the Rock the Bells festival at the Shoreline Ampitheatre. Snoop played his classic album Doggystyles in its entirety along with several songs from Dr. Dre's 1992 masterpiece, The Chronic. Needless to say, he was easily the best of a lineup that included such luminaries as the Wu Tang Clan, Lauryn Hill, A Tribe Called Quest, KRS-One and Rakim among many others. His bass lines were sweeter than candied yams on a warm, moonless night.
If Jay-Z is the best rapper alive, Snoop Dogg is the smoothest. Which brings me to whether I am allowed to listen to hip hop. If I have absolutely nothing in common with Jay-Z, I may share even less with Mr. Snoop Eastwood (yes, he actually calls himself that). As a white kid from the suburbs, I am about as far from Jay-Z as you can get. Still, I am fascinated by how Jay-Z has "too much ambition" and "gotta be the best" maybe because I detect a tiny sliver of insecurity behind seemingly endless layers of arrogance. With Snoop, what's crazy is how insecurity doesn't even seem to cross his mind. He just doesn't give a fuck. He is America's stoner par excellence. He can convince you of anything with a playful whisper. He was once a member of the Crips, and he beat back a murder charge. Yet his meditative, laid back coolness would make a zen buddhist monk on the verge of nirvana look like a sweating, drunken Richard Nixon on the eve of resignation. I couldn't be that cool if I was the first man to set foot on Mars while simultaneously making Scarlett Johansson come for a worldwide audience.
Wikipedia sez that gangsta rap has been accused of "promoting violence, profanity, sex, homophobia, racism, promiscuity, misogyny, rape, street gangs, drive-by shootings, vandalism, thievery, drug dealing, alcohol abuse, substance abuse and materialism." Should a nervous paleface such as myself really be allowed to embrace all of this? Maybe not.
But this is America. Who the fuck's stopping me?
PS - I want to highlight one of most philosophically self-reflective moments in all of gangsta rap. Dr. Dre's song "Big Egos," which appears on the album 2001, is a truly trenchant exploration of high self-esteem and narcissism. At one point, after saying he hits switches and makes bitches eat bitches, he adds wistfully "See me grab my dick every time I pose for pictures." One could interpret this as referring to the listener. So is it we who see him grab his dick every time he poses for pictures? I prefer an alternative explanation first proposed by my friend Tommy O'Mahony (who also helped developed the betamax idea that my previous post was based on, credit where it's due). Tommy believes that given the context of the previous line which pointedly uses the pronoun "I," it only makes sense that the next line is also referring to Dre himself. At that moment in the song, Dr. Dre takes pause and notices that in every picture he sees of himself, he is holding his own dick. What epiphanies ran through his mind as he came to this realization? We may never know, but it sure is fun to think about.
I have always found this particular b-word loathsome, as has Maddox, and he's always right. I'm glad Ben has added his two cents to the matter, since it made realize something. We are not passive spectators in this world of b-words that we call an i-word. There's no good reason that putting words on a screen so that other people with other screens can read those very same words should have to be referred to as the b-word. Or at least not that b-word. We can think of our very own b-word if we want. We have the power! Or at least I think we do. And being an American, I'm just going to assume we do and if not then the U.N. can write a resolution of condemnation that no one will know or care about.
Here's my humble proposal. We pick a new b-word. Something better than bleching. Bleching is worse than blogging, so that's out for starters. Belching might be somewhat accurate, but it's not much of an improvement except in its greater honesty. Bowling is already something else that people do (usually right after saying "Fuck it, man") so that won't work. Beeping is too binary. Booping is just silly.
Wait. I've got it. Let's just repurpose an old school technological word from the 1980s that has since fallen into disuse. It will be recycling neologisms, so it will be good for the linguistic ecosystem on which we all depend for nearly all our precious communication. It will have the ring of instant nostalgia that VH1 has taught us all to love. Most of all, it won't be that gross word "blogging." It will be the perfect b-word.
It will be betamaxing. That's right, betamaxing. You know what I'm doing right now? Betamaxing. What does that make me? A betamaxer. And what are you reading? A betamax.
Unless you can think of something better. In which case, I'm all ears eyes.
P.S. - Seriously though, you have to admit that betamaxing is an elegant replacement. What better way to commemorate a dead technology, one that Sony thought would dominate the marketplace but ended up getting ignored in favor of VHS (which is also a dead technology but somehow couldn't replace the word blog). It has the added advantage of sounding a bit like masturbating, which let's face is what blogging really is.
In the days leading up to November 2nd, I got paid to knock on doors for the reelection campaign of Congressman Jerry McNerney. In the last day or two it's been reported that he will likely win the extremely close race by a margin of 1000 votes or so. I'm glad that I can retire from the soul-crushing game of party politicking with a wry grin. My retirement could very well be Jay Z like in its brevity. Nevertheless, I am excited that it may allow me more time to spend on mirthful pursuits such as drugs, movies, and girls.