A Comfortable Chair Makes All The Difference

I suppose I should talk about Jerry Bruckheimer's latest opus, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice", since I saw it last weekend. But I don't really want to. I also saw "Inception", I would much rather talk about that, but I really can't until I get this movie out of the way.

I've been struggling with finding something to talk about regarding "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" for several days. Also, my computer decided it wanted to attempt suicide, and I've spent the last two days gradually recovering my data. I'm almost back on my feet, except for my iTunes library. That's pretty much fucked, and it breaks my heart.

It will take me a long time to get over that. But here I am, early in the morning, forcing myself to try to write out some kind of semi-coherent "review" of this mediocre Disney movie. Why, you aren't asking? Because I care about you, Dear Imaginary Reader. I work through the pain because I care.

Of course, the booze helps.

First, I wish to discuss the circumstances of my screening of "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". Let me start by saying that Bill Warren has the city of Wichita on lockdown, cinema-wise. If you don't know who Bill Warren is, (And if you don't live in the state of Kansas then why would you?), he's a very wealthy man who has single-handedly elevated the movie-going experience in the city of Wichita. He also mounted an ill-fated campaign for the mayor's office several years ago, but that's best left forgotten.

The man has been a part of our local cinema business for decades. My mother used to work for the man when she was a teenager at a small movie house. He still recognizes her when they cross paths from time to time, which I find rather surprising. Apparently he's got a photographic memory. Or maybe they had an affair. I never broached the subject with my mother, but my deranged mind can't help but drift to that lurid possibility. Anyway, that's beside the point.

Over the years, Mr. Warren has managed and/or owned nearly every theatre in my city. And in the early 1990's, he figured it was time to build his own cinema. And so the Warren Theatre in west Wichita was born. I remember the first movie I saw there: Sgt. Bilko. Yes, the awful Steve Martin-starring big screen adaptation of "The Phil Silvers Show" from the 1950's.

I have vague memories of enjoying reruns of the old show on TV when I was a wee lad. Although I always wondered why the TV show wasn't called "Sgt. Bilko". I mean, it wasn't a variety show, or anything. It was only about the wacky misadventures of that charming douchebag Sgt. Bilko. That still bothers me. And I didn't realize until later that the program was set in a Kansas Army base. Of course, in the movie, Ft. Baxter isn't in Kansas, but in California. I don't blame them, I guess.

But between "Sgt. Bilko", and Steve Martin's 1992 film "Leap Of Faith", which was set in Kansas but filmed in Texas, I have this bizarre feeling that the man just doesn't like my state. And these movies were made before Kansas became a national laughingstock with the State Board of Education's decision to "de-emphasize" the theory of evolution in our schools. I know my state has its problems, but if people ever bothered to visit our lovely state, they would see that we're not all inbred, uneducated yokels who bathe infrequently and hate folks from "the left coast".

And don't get me started on John Hughes' brave portrayal of the city of Wichita as a sleazy, crime-ridden cesspool filled with garish taxi cabs and hillbilly pig farmers in "Planes, Trains & Automobiles". I love that film to death, but I never understood why the city I call home was portrayed in such a sad, cynical light. But enough about my hatred for Steve Martin and his anti-Kansas bias.

I saw "Sgt. Bilko" at the Warren Theatre, but that's not the important part. I remember entering the expansive lobby for the first time and being wowed by what I saw. A huge domed ceiling, a detailed, hand-painted mural surrounding the entire space, all of the little touches that gave the establishment such a high class feeling. It was a beautiful sight. And after my mother and I took our seats in the brand-new, luxurious theatre, we were treated to a vintage "Merry Melodies" cartoon before the feature presentation. I appreciate things like that.

Bill Warren wanted to bring back that special feeling that people used to have when they went to the movies. It wasn't just a way to waste a few hours, it was an event. You anticipated it. It's something that's lost on entirely too many people in this age of the dreary multiplex.

At the Warren Thatre, the quality of the presentation was paramount. The auditoriums were always kept in fine condition. The projectionists didn't crank down the brightness of the lightbulbs to save money. The sound system was state-of-the-art, THX certified surround sound. It was a revelation to the citizens of Wichita, who had to make due with numerous run-down cinemas until that point.

In 2002, Mr. Warren's east side Warren Theatre opened, and the first film I saw there was "Spider-Man". The same luxurious aesthetic was applied, and even improved upon with the addition of an exclusive balcony and adjoining bar in the main auditorium for patrons 21 and older. I love seeing movies in that balcony. I've been dragged to some pretty terrible movies, and viewing these nightmares in that comfortable balcony space has made them almost tolerable.

This December, our city's first genuine IMAX theatre will open as part of an expansion of the West Warren Theatre. The first movie scheduled to play there? "Tron Legacy" on December 17th. In my mind, I'm already there...

Finally, I reach the point of this lengthy diatribe. Several years ago, Mr. Warren opened a cinema in downtown Wichita called the Old Town Warren Theatre. One of the big features at this establishment is something called "The Director's Suite", an intimate auditorium which comfortably seats perhaps 30 people. Each seat is a large leather recliner, so if you hate the movie you're seeing, you can kick back and take a nap. The best part of the set-up is that every seat is a middle seat. There simply isn't enough room in the auditorium for anyone to have a bad seat.

A nice waitress comes by before the movie starts and takes your order, and you can eat and drink whatever the hell you want. It's shamefully decadent for a simple country bumpkin like myself. If you want, you can rent the damned auditorium and screen whatever the fuck you feel like exposing your fragile-minded friends and loved ones to.

It's only accessible via an elevator with an oddly soothing cowboy mural adorning its ceiling. I'm trying to say that I like "The Director's Suite". And after seeing "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" in this delightfully claustrophobic auditorium early Sunday morning, I found myself thinking more about the quality of the experience as opposed to the actual film that I saw.

One day Nicolas Cage watched "Fantasia" for the thousandth time and got the brilliant idea to make a full-length motion picture based on the memorable short "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". He called up Jerry Bruckheimer and pitched the idea, and Jerry called up some unimaginative screenwriters and the boring director of the "National Treasure" movies and the rest is history.

Nicolas Cage plays Balthazar, one of three apprentices to the legendary wizard Merlin, along with Horvath (played by Alfred Molina), and Veronica (played by Monica Bellucci). When Monica Bellucci popped up during the film's prologue, I was stunned. I had no idea she was in this movie. She's one of the sexiest women on the planet, and nobody told me that she was in this fucking movie.

I remember importing an uncut DVD of Giuseppe Tornatore's "Malena" years ago, and marveling at the tasteful nude image of Mrs. Bellucci on the front cover. No American release could get away with that. Not only does she get naked with alarming frequency in that movie, but it's also a very effective coming-of-age story dealing with a young boy in Sicily during World War 2 who develops a crush on Monica Bellucci. Can you blame him? No, you can't.

I really love that movie. I'm a huge Giuseppe Tornatore fan. The man doesn't direct often, but when he does manage to make a movie, I'm excited. Between "Malena", "Cinema Paradiso" and "The Legend Of 1900", it's like Mr. Tornatore is making movies exclusively for me. These films deal with serious themes, but maintain an almost childlike sense of wonder.

"The Legend Of 1900" is simply one of my favorite movies. I think it's a beautiful story, and my eyes get a little misty every time the credits roll. Of course, I know nobody else who has actually seen this movie, and on the one occassion I chose to show the film to my friend Titus, he fell asleep ten minutes into it. That's encouraging. The scene where 1900 accepts a piano duel with famous jazz musician Jelly Roll Morton is one of the most surprisingly intense and just plain cool things I have ever seen in a film.

I don't want to spoil it for you, Dear Imaginary Reader. I encourage you to see this film for yourself. Netflix it, you lazy bastards! You'll thank me later. Or maybe you'll tell me to go fuck myself. Who knows? Apparently nobody knows that "The Legend Of 1900" exists, and that makes me sad.

Where was I? Ah, Monica Bellucci. No, no, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". That's right.

So Merlin has three apprentices, and Horvath betrays Merlin and allies himself with the evil witch Morgana. Morgana kills poor Merlin, and Veronica somehow absorbs Morgana's soul into her body to save her love Balthazar's life. Balthazar imprisons the possessed Veronica into something called "the Grimhold", which is really just a Russian nesting doll.

Before he dies, Merlin gives Balthazar a gaudy dragon ring that he says will choose "The Prime Merlinian", the person who will have the power to slay Morgana. Yes, "The Prime Merlinian". How fucking stupid does that sound? For the first half of the movie I thought everyone was talking about the Prime Meridian. I was confused, wondering why Nicolas Cage spent over 1,000 years searching for the International Dateline. It's not that hard to find, really.

Balthazar must be a truly shitty wizard if he can't find the Prime Meridian after 1,000 years. And how the hell could the Prime Meridian kill Morgana? Does crossing into the Eastern Hemisphere destroy her corrupt soul? If so, then why didn't Balthazar just take a boat to France? He could take his cute little nesting doll with him and solve his problem with precious little work.

But no, it's not the Prime Meridian. It's "The Prime Merlinian". I cringe just typing those words. You see, sorcery is split on two different lines: good sorcerers are "Merlinians", and evil sorcerers are "Morganians". Fucking "Morganians". Wow. That's stupid.

Over the centuries, many evil sorcerers have attacked Balthazar in attempts to free Morgana from the Grimhold, so that she can use her powers to summon a bunch of dead evil wizards to rule the world with a spell called "The Rising". I was immediately reminded of the great Bruce Springsteen album of the same name. Maybe Morgana's plan is to hold a boombox blasting the album's title track over head in a graveyard. That would be different.

Balthazar has defeated all of these sorcerers, and has trapped them all in consecutive layers of the Grimhold. The final layer holds Horvath himself, who was defeated by Balthazar in a titanic struggle that we never get to see. Boo!

In the year 2000, a young boy named Dave is on a field trip and wanders off, eventually finding a shitty-looking antique store called the Arcania Cabana, or something equally dumb. Balthazar fucks with the kid a little, before presenting him with the amazing dragon ring, which comes to life and wraps itself around Dave's little finger. Balthazar is relieved that he has finally found the Prime Merlinian (seriously, fuck that title) and runs off to find his autograph book.

Dave, being a clumsy and uncoordinated child, accidentally releases Horvath from his nesting doll prison, and Balthazar tangles with his nemesis. They both end up trapped in a big vase with a very convenient magical 10 year lock, and Dave throws the nesting doll in a gutter before returning to his friends. They all point and laugh, because his pants are wet.

Dave tries to explain that he was splashed with water by dueling wizards, but they all think he pissed himself because he takes the short bus to school every day. The girl of his dreams just looks disgusted, and turns away. Dave proceeds to spend the next ten years in therapy.

Ten years pass, the sorcerers escape from their decorative prison, and Balthazar tracks down poor Dave, who is now a college student with an annoying comic relief roommate who just wants his friend to get laid. With very little coaxing, Dave begins training in the ways of the Prime Merlinian under Balthazar's guidance, while trying to get the girl of his dreams to come down to his secret underground lair for a little Tesla Coil seduction.

And yes, we are treated to several awful montages of Dave learning to harness his magical powers. Marvel at the sight of Dave losing control of a wayward plasma ball, which punches him repeatedly in the face before beaning him in the groin! Whimsy!

Horvath finds the Grimhold and becomes the Great Emancipator of Morganians, releasing his imprisoned brethren to kill his old enemy Balthazr before he can complete Dave's training.

Now for a short time, I was worried that this story wouldn't end within the confines of the film. I had a sick feeling that the movie would end without releasing Morgana from the nesting doll, to give the filmmakers an excuse to force a franchise out of this. Luckily, they didn't go this route, and decided to wrap up the Morgana story before the credits rolled. That didn't make the movie any better, though.

So Horvath releases the evil sorcerers, and Balthazar and his apprentice Dave stop them. After the evil sorcerers are defeated, Horvath steals their jewelry. Not just because he's a bling whore, but because sorcerers require gaudy jewelry to harness their magical powers. Horvath takes their lame baubles and grafts them onto his staff to gain UNLIMITED POWER!!!!!!

I know that the idea of wizards using objects to focus their power is nothing new, but I don't understand how stealing the items that other wizards use to focus their power is going to make you any stronger. But that's a minor nitpick, I suppose.

Eventually, Dave talks his dream girl into coming down to his dungeon, after getting crusty old Balthazar to leave, because he's cramping the young lad's style. In a tizzy, Dave realizes that his sex bunker is just filthy, and needs to clean it up lickety split. Indeed, we are treated to a tired, lifeless recreation of the famous Mickey Mouse-starring sequence from "Fantasia". It had to be in there, somewhere, as an obligation. But it's not amusing in the least. The sequence just made me realize how comfortable my chair was.

The evil Horvath kidnaps Becky and forces Dave to relinquish his magical ring, which will apparently give Horvath the power to set Morgana free. Balthazar goes after his nemesis, and Becky & Dave drive after him. Horvath unleashes Morgana/Veronica from the nesting doll, she begins "The Rising", and Dave notices that Morgana's spell is bouncing off satellite dishes around the city, creating a pentagram that will consolidate her power.

He drops Becky off and tells her to climb a radio tower to move one of the dishes, which will disrupt the spell. Of course, Becky is afraid of heights, but she manages to do her job, anyway, conquering her fear. Holy shit. First off, the whole idea of the evil spell using satellite dishes as reflectors just screamed "stupid", to me. It's not like Horvath and his minions strategically placed these dishes around the city. The damned things were already there.

How lucky that "The Rising" spell just happened to seek out the perfect configuration of previously installed satellite dishes placed around the city that would bounce beams of energy back to their source in the form of a flaming pentagram. How the hell was Morgana supposed to pull this stunt off back in Ye Olden Days? With a pack of wizards clutching polished mirrors all around Camelot? And why the hell does the spell have to form a massive flaming pentagram? It seems rather inconvenient, to me. But I suppose magic always is.

There's a showdown at some damned park. I don't know the parks in New York City, so I'll just call this one "Not Central Park". Dave shows up and helps his stringy-haired pal. Horvath gets konked on the head with something and just disappears from the rest of the movie. Seriously. I guess we have to set up a sequel somehow.

Balthazar absorbs Morgana's soul, saving Veronica. This gives Nicolas Cage the opportunity to grin like a lunatic and stare at Dave Baruchel like a side of ribs for thirty seconds, until Morgana's soul escapes, becoming a semi-corporeal entity that shoots lasers at Veronica. Balthazar leaps to his lady love's rescue, sacrificing himself for Monica Bellucci. I ask again: Can you blame him?

Dave manages to find his magical testicles, blasting Morgana's spirit to the sweet hereafter, because he's the Prime Merlinian. And only the Prime Merlinian can do that shit without a ring. He then resurrects Balthazar with his defibrillator hands, and the movie ends with Dave flying to Paris with his new girlfriend Becky on the back of a big iron eagle. And I couldn't be bothered to give a shit.

"The Sorcerer's Apprentice" is just mediocre. There are hints of creativity sprinkled throughout like bread crumbs for a seasoned viewer to follow, leading one to think that perhaps something cool is always just around the corner. But the movie lies. It lies like dinner.

For instance, it is established that Balthazar is ageless. Not because he's a sorcerer, but because it is his task to find the Prime Merlinian. He won't grow old until Morgana is destroyed. There is one moment in the film, after one of Dave's training sessions goes badly, that Balthazar snaps at the young man when he wants to quit the magic game. This implies that Balthazar is not training Dave for entirely selfless reasons.

Now a good script and a good director could mine this moment for a little dramatic depth. Maybe Balthazar has grown cynical and embittered by the passage of time, searching for this "chosen one" and coming up short time and time again. He wants to save his beloved. He wants to die. But he can't until his job is complete. And this whiny little nerd wants to give up, to cheat Balthazar out of his release. Some elaboration on this point could have added a new dimension to this flaccid movie.

Perhaps Horvath knows the secret of Balthazar's heart, and tries to sway his one-time comrade, hinting that Morgana could give Balthazar what he wants if they worked together. Giving the character of Balthazar a darker side, presenting the possibility that the weary sorcerer may opt to take the easy way out after centuries of forced virtue.

But no, that little moment is completely forgotten literally in the same scene. It's infuriating when I can see the possibility of a greater film somewhere within, knowing that I'm stuck with forgettable trash.

Really, aside from actors Nicolas Cage and Alfred Molina, with a special mention to Monica Bellucci just for showing up, there's not much to like about this movie. The plot is safe and bland, there's nothing memorable in the cinematography or sound design, and most of the other actors are tolerable at best and grating at worst. Jay Baruchel is just showing up and finding his mark, perfecting the role of "actor who doesn't give a shit". I like Jay Baruchel, and I couldn't believe how little he connected with the material. Or maybe I can, considering his director.

Jon Turtletaub is on autopilot as a director. But that's nothing new. I've never seen anything approaching "great" in his filmography. The "National Treasure" movies are middle-of-the-road, safe adventure films with no visual flair. The guy directed "3 Ninjas"! "3 Ninjas"! And his style hasn't evolved in 18 years! Christ, Jon Turtletaub is terrible. He's a competent director who can be trusted to shoot the script he's given on time and on budget. That's it. Fucking boring!

Nicolas Cage and Alfred Molina acquit themselves well enough. Cage doesn't embrace the material enough to go balls out, though. He should have tried to create a persona on par with Johnny Depp's now-iconic Captain Jack Sparrow from the "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies. Now I doubt he could have hit that mark, but he could have taken the concept of an ageless wizard who has been searching for a prophesized "chosen one" and really run with it. Maybe the endless years have made him crazy, right?

I was hoping he'd bring his "A" game and immerse himself in the role the way he did with his other recent performances in "Bad Liuetenant: Port of Call New Orleans" and "Kick-Ass". Instead, he shows only brief glimpses of playful madness and essentially plays Balthazar as a wise eccentric. It's not a bad performance. It's actually decent. But I wanted more.

Alfred Molina, in his second supporting role in an under-performing Jerry Bruckheimer production this year, is a decent, scenery chewing villain. He was clearly having a bit of fun playing a suave, sharp dressed bad guy. He and Nicolas Cage have a decent rapport in their limited shared screentime.

A short fight in a public bathroom made me laugh. Balthazar uses his magic powers to turn a large mirror into a portal to a mirror dimension in order to trap Horvath on the other side. Horvath sighs, commenting on how he hasn't seen "the old Hungarian Mirror Trick" in a long time. It was a small thing, but I liked it.

The special effects are generally good and occassionally inventive. Um... that's about it, I suppose. I can't think of anything else I really enjoyed concerning "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". In the end, it's just not a good movie. Perhaps if Disney had allowed the film to take a slightly harder edge, once again along the lines of the "Pirates" movies, then something decent could have emerged from all of this. Alas, that was not to be, and we're left with something that is best left forgotten.

Now I feel sad.

Ahhh... that's better.

Two Out Of Three (Predator Movies) Ain't Bad

Who wants to talk about "Predators"? I do. What the heck? I've got some time to kill before I subject myself to "For Your Eyes Only", and I feel like typing.

I haven't seen any of the old Bond films since I was a kid, and my recollections of the series were incredibly vague. But after Christmas, I bought the four DVD collections of the entire Bond franchise on sale, and decided it was time to revisit the magic.

I started in March with the original Sean Connery cycle ending with "Diamonds Are Forever", and I absolutely loved them. Connery is James Bond. He just exudes "cool" in these movies. I was honestly surprised by just how good the films were. I was certainly never bored, and there were only a few groan-inducing moments sprinkled throughout each film. The terrible puns that I feared were kept to a minimum. Exciting, fun stories with colorful, memorable villains and a suave, deadly, cool-as-ice mother fucker in the center of it all.

I admit, out of the original seven films, my favorite is "On Her Majesty's Secret Service". I remembered not liking the film when I was younger, because Sean Connery was suddenly replaced by some Australian dude I had never heard of, and I never gave the movie a fair chance. When I watched it earlier this year, all of my old problems with the movie faded away.

Sure, it would have been nice to have Connery back for the movie, but George Lazenby did a fine job considering the fact that the deck was stacked against the poor bastard. Diana Rigg, who will always hold a special place in my heart for wearing that leather catsuit in "The Avengers", was the perfect embodiment of the woman destined to make James Bond a kept man. Telly Savalas is still my favorite Blofeld. He's so good at playing creepy.

And the film's conclusion almost made me cry. It's just so out-of-left-field and brutal. Blofeld, the powerful leader of SPECTRE and all-around supervillain, desperately tries to kill Bond in a fucking drive-by shooting!

After Bond realizes that his bride is dead, he doesn't break down. He doesn't scream to the heavens. He doesn't vow a red-eyed revenge on his arch-nemesis. He cradles his wife's corpse and mutters "we have all the time in the world..." as the movie ends. It's heartbreaking stuff, and it makes Blofeld's inevitable comeuppance in "Diamonds Are Forever" that much more satisfying. Very well done.

After I watched "Diamonds Are Forever", I decided to wait for a little while before I decided to dive into Roger Moore's "Bond" movies. I wasn't really looking forward to it, honestly. I never warmed to Moore's portrayal of James Bond, even as a child. He just never felt right, to me. Last week, I finally decided to embrace the horror and start my second James Bond-athon with "Live And Let Die".

I did not like "Live And Let Die". I was completely uninvested in any of the characters or situations. The introduction of an utterly annoying, racist caricature of a small town Louisiana sheriff almost made me stop the movie. There was absolutely no reason for this character to exist in the film. As comic relief, he fails miserably. Who thought this shit was a good idea?

Yaphet Kotto, an actor I generally like, does nothing for me as the villain of the piece, a "dual role" as an apparently albino drug kingpin called "Mr. Big", and a suspicious Caribbean heroin supplier named "Kananga". Jane Seymour looks beautiful, but is completely wooden as a magical, tarot-reading psychic in Kahanga's employ. And Roger Moore was just there, trying to summon a tenth of Sean Connery's charisma and talent and coming across as some kind of lame impersonation.

I don't even want to talk about James Bond's horrifying ineptitude in the film, or the fact that seemingly every single black person in the story wants to kill him. Just a wretched experience.

With some trepidation, I watched "The Man With The Golden Gun" the next day, hoping Christopher Lee's turn as the three-nippled assassin Scaramanga would turn things around. In the end, Lee was just all right as the bad guy, the story itself was mostly forgettable, and Moore continued the broad, pun-filled boring performance he started in "Live And Let Die".

And fuck the filmmakers for bringing back that offensive, grating Sheriff, who spends most of his role wandering around Thailand, calling the Thai people "pointy heads". I didn't end up hating this one, though. Which is a step in the right direction, I suppose.

"The Spy Who Loved Me" started to turn me around. It's actually fun, and has a few memorable characters. The villain, Stromberg is interesting, and he has a cool ocean fortress. This film introduces Jaws, who is just an unstoppable, superhuman force of nature. I love the scene where he basically tears apart the van that James Bond and Agent XXX (really?) are trying to escape in.

And Roger Moore didn't annoy me, this time. Although the actress who played Soviet superspy Agent XXX was very uneven, and never even bothered to attempt a Russian accent. That was a headscratcher. I actually liked "The Spy Who Loved Me". That was a surprise.

Last night, I watched "Moonraker". It's got some problems, and the last twenty minutes turn into a very special episode of "Battlestar Galactica", but it was still entertaining. Hugo Drax is a decent villain, and his plan to wipe out the human race and eventually repopulate the world with his own "super race" of space-born white people was neat, although a little too close to the previous villain's plan to have the US and USSR destroy the world in a nuclear apocalypse while he creates his own undersea civilization.

Jaws came back, fell in love with a cute blonde girl with huge tits, and decided to become a good guy. Roger Moore was decent. But I feel sorry for poor Corine Dufor. Bond fucked her, used her to gain access to Drax's safe, then took off. She ended up being brutally murdered by Drax's trained Dobermans. That was just fucked up.

It wasn't as good as "The Spy Who Loved Me", but "Moonraker" was still pretty good. I'm going to watch "For Your Eyes Only" later, and I just hope it doesn't suck.

I'm supposed to be talking about "Predators", aren't I?

Well, before I get to the latest entry in the troubled franchise, let me take a moment to talk about what came before.

"Predator"

An absolute classic. This was John McTiernan's second film, but the first that really mattered. I mean, who remembers "Nomads", anyway? Maybe Mary Woronov. I'm sure if some "journalist" was brave/stupid enough to ask Pierce Brosnan what he thought of his performance in "Nomads", he would punch that mouthy prick right in the face. And rightly so.

Anyway, this was the film where McTiernan really showed the world what he could do. "Predator" is one of the few big action films from the 1980's that still holds up. And it really holds up. 23 years later, it's still one of the most thrilling, tense, and exciting films of its ilk.

Writers Jim and John Thomas came up with the simple yet intriguing idea of an extraterrestrial hunter coming to Earth for its own big game hunt. However the idea evolved through rewrites and on-set changes, the original concept of the film is still a strong one.

Producer Joel Silver can be credited for gathering such a memorable collection of bombastic personalities in Arnold Schwarzenneger, Carl Weathers, Jesse Ventura, Sonny Landham and Bill Duke, and throwing them all into a story that starts out as a "Dirty Dozen"-esque men on a mission movie, that slowly transforms into a desperate fight for survival against a seemingly unstoppable, other-worldly foe.

Each one of these actors creates a truly memorable performance in "Predator". Watching this group of badasses butt heads in the jungle, I am reminded of how far this type of film has fallen in recent years. How many ensemble-based action movies in the last ten years have given their audience such a likeable, quotable and all-around cool cast of characters? "Kill Bill"? Is that it?

Stan Winston's effects work is unforgettable. When the Predator is finally unmasked, that bizarre, crab-like face became instantly iconic. And Kevin Peter Hall's performance truly brings the character to life. You forget that it's a man in a suit. You see the Predator facing off with Arnold in the film's climax, and you don't amazing prosthetics work. You see an alien killing machine that wants to take Dutch's skull back to his house and mount it over the fireplace.

I remember reading a lot of reviews back in 1987 that just dismissed "Predator" as a derivative, unsatisfying shoot-em-up. Those people are idiots. People like me saw "Predator" for what it truly was: a masterpiece.

"Predator 2"

That's not a masterpiece. But it's still a lot of fun. Set in the far-flung future of 1997, the story of a "loose cannon" LAPD detective played by Danny Glover and his inevitable duel with a different Predator is more broad, more cartoony. There are moments in this film that feel like they're lifted right out of the imagination of a hyper-active 10 year-old.

Detectives Bill Paxton and Maria Conchita Alonso are riding the subway, and a group of street toughs pull their guns. Naturally, Paxton and Alonso pull their guns. And then every single person riding the subway decides now's a good time to pull their guns. It's such a completely bizzare and out-of-place moment.

Another such moment involves the Predator, wounded and pursued by Danny Glover, crashes through the bathroom window of an apartment occupied by an old lady. As he pulls out his incredibly handy field surgery kit to tend to his wounds, the old lady slowly and fearfully approaches the closed bathroom window, clutching a broom. Her approach is periodically stopped by the loud, unfamiliar screams emanating from the bathroom as the Predator uses some super-heated paste to seal his wounds.

He finally injects himself with some blue liquid, perhaps some kind of steroid, then bursts through the bathroom door, exiting through the opposite wall in a blind rage. The old lady just stands there, stupefied. Danny Glover quickly shows up, following the Predator's path of destruction. As he passes through, he looks at the old lady and tells her that it's okay, because he's a cop. The old lady responds with "I don't think he gives a shit." Hilarious.

The characters in "Predator 2" are simply not as cool or memorable as the badass mercs in the original film, but Glover, Paxton, Reuben Blades and Gary fucking Busey manage to make their presence felt. Morton Downey, Jr. and his massive teeth even pop up for a few brief moments.

You don't know who Morton Downey, Jr. is? There's no point in explaining. The 80's: I guess you had to be there.

Kevin Peter Hall returns to portray the brand new Predator, and he brings a different characterization to this role. This Predator isn't the old, cool-as-ice model. He's more belligerent, more prone to throwing the occassional temper tantrum. This makes sense, as the primary Predator in the sequel is still a wet-behind-the-ears hunter, with a small support group of other Predators waiting for him back at his spaceship.

The lone wolf Predator in the first film is a seasoned warrior. In "Predator 2", he seems more like a wealthy young buck on a weekend safari.

When Danny Glover somehow manages to kill the Predator onboard his own ship, his downed opponent's pals uncloak and converge around him. Clearly exhausted, Glover sighs and says "Who's next?" Instead of fighting, the Predators carry off their fallen brother and one of them tosses an old flintlock pistol to Glover as a trophy.

I loved this moment, because it illustrated the Predators as a race of honorable warriors. Danny Glover had proven himself in single combat with one of their own, and they respected him for it. That was just cool.

The sequence on the spaceship also gave nerds a hard-on when they saw the trophy case, filled with exotic skulls. Was that an "Alien" skull? Holy shit! I just came.

"Predator 2" is not a great movie. Many fans of the original either hate the sequel or regard it with apathy. I still enjoy it. Why? Here are two reasons:

1: Danny (Reuben Blades) has been killed by the Predator. His necklace is missing. A few scenes pass, and his partner Harrigan (Danny Glover) visits his grave. On the head stone is Danny's necklace. We see that it's Danny's necklace. We know that it's Danny's necklace. But when Harrigan picks up the necklace in a close-up, in production, somebody decided it would be helpful to have Danny Glover whisper the line "Danny's necklace...". So they added the line with a little ADR magic.. It's such an obvious "no shit" moment. And it makes me laugh every time.

2: Danny Glover calls the Predator "pussyface". We were all thinking it.

"Alien V. Predator"

Paul W.S. Anderson made a mediocre, PG-13 movie. The Predators all look bloated and act like idiots, the aliens inexplicably develop at a mind-boggling rate, the alien queen changes size from scene to scene and behaves more like the T-Rex in "Jurassic Park", and none of the human characters leave any impression.

Well, one does. And his name is Lance Henriksen. I love Lance Henriksen.

I've watched a lot of shitty movies simply because Lance Henriksen is in them. It's some kind of weird compulsion I have. Movies like "Antibody", "Pumpkinhead: Ashes To Ashes" & "Bloodfeud", "Hellraiser: Hellworld", "In The Spider's Web" and "Sasquatch Mountain".

None of these are good movies. In fact, they're all terrible. But I watched them all because I noticed that Lance Henriksen was in them. In most of these films, Lance Henriksen only appears for a few scenes, really just glorified cameos. The people behind these movies needed a "name", and they figured that Lance Henriksen has some DTV marquee value. Their sceme worked, because they got me to watch their awful, awful movies. So shame on me.

Lance Henriksen plays Charles Weyland in "Alien Vs. Predator", as a clever nod to the Weyland-Yutani corporation from the "Alien" saga. He's really the only actor in the film with any recognizable talent. He's dying of cancer and wants to do something big, something that people will remember him for. He figures finding an ancient pyramid in fucking Antarctica will allow him to cross that item off his bucket list.

After everything falls apart, with Aliens and Predators fucking shit up for everybody, the last remaining Predator chooses to spare Henriksen's life when he uses his "Predator-Vision" to see the tumors in his frail human body. He starts walking away, and Henriksen gets pissed. He screams "Don't you walk away from me" and tries to set the Predator on fire. The Predator then puts Henriksen out of his misery, ending his tenure in this tedious slog of a movie.

I like his exit in the film. It's the only death in the film I can immediately recall, at any rate. Lance Henriksen will always be one of my favorite actors, despite consistently acting in some of the worst movies I have ever seen. I think I have Battered Wife Syndrome.

"Alien Vs. Predator" ends with the dead hero Predator onboard the Predator spaceship, with an alien/predator hybrid chestburster springing out of his ruined torso. Despite the tedious 90 minutes that preceded this moment, the fanboy wetdream of the mythical "Predalien" reared its ugly head, and that was more than enough for many of the mouthbreathers that enjoyed this movie.

The idea of bringing the Aliens to Earth in the present day violated continuity for the fans, but director Anderson tried to get around that by setting the film in a buried pyramid under Antarctic ice, keeping the Aliens away from civilization. The film also adds the possibility that the Predators helped guide ancient human civilization, being worshipped as gods. There are a few mildly interesting ideas introduced in the film, and there are a few enjoyable action moments, but little else.

I saw "Alien Vs. Predator" for free in the cinema, thanks to a friend of a friend. I still wanted my money back.

"Aliens Vs. Predator: Requiem"

I remember the poster: A dueling Alien and Predator superimposed over our fragile little world with the tagline: "This Christmas, there will be no peace on Earth". I thought the poster was dumb. But at least this movie was rated R. That's gotta be worth something, right?

Ehh...

The sequel begins where the last movie ended, with the Predalien maturing at an insane rate, killing every Predator it can find on the ship. The ship crashes in some small town in Colorado, and the Predalien, along with a handful of facehuggers, escapes into the wild.

The downed Predator ship is equipped with a distress beacon which reaches the Predator homeworld in record time, and a single "cleaner" Predator is dispatched to take care of the mess.

Now this is a concept I really liked. One badass Predator coming to town to destroy all evidence of their presence, wiping out Aliens left and right.

Too bad the movie doesn't deliver on that promise.

Time and time again, the Cleaner is shown to be rather inept, making foolish mistakes and generally acting like a rookie. That is, when I could actually see what was unfolding onscreen. This movie is so fucking dark, it's infuriating. I don't understand how this could have happened with a major studio release. I had to crank up the brightness on my television all the way up just to make out what "action" this film had.

I thought none of the characters in the previous film had any depth. "Requiem" proved me wrong. Absolutely none of these characters even register. They might as well not exist. It's astounding how one-note the cast of this movie truly is.

The Predalien looks kinda cool (when I can actually see it), but doesn't really do much until the climax. Sure, it shoves its ovapositor down some pregnant woman's throat in a hospital and pumps her full of Alien eggs, and it's surprising to see. Not really because it's terribly shocking, but because there's no reason why the Predalien can actually do that. Why? Because the directors wanted more Aliens in the movie, dammit!

The first time I watched "Requiem", I absolutely hated it. The second time, I watched it as a slasher film, with Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers replaced with aliens. That made it slightly more enjoyable, in a trashy way. It's still not a good movie. And the worst movie to involve either Aliens or Predators.

"Predators"

Wow, that took longer than I thought. But at least we're finally here, Dear Imaginary Reader.

So what about "Predators"? Well, it's basically a remake of "Predator". I'm sure Robert Rodriguez calls it "a loving homage", but it's a little more than that.

So a bunch of strangers fall from the sky and wake up in the jungle. Whoever dropped them here was kind enough to leave them their weapons, which is immediately suspicious. I guess all of these people have names, but I don't remember any of them. I'm sure they all shared their names at some point, but they never left an impression.

The point is these people, who are all killers of some sort, except for Topher Grace(?), who is a doctor, are lost in the jungle, and someone... or something... is hunting them. It's no surprise. We know that fucking Predators are hunting them. But we don't see any Predators for the better part of an hour. Why? To build tension? We've seen the Predators show up and kill people in four movies, now! Find a better way to build tension.

Among our cast of armed prey is Adrien Brody as an ex-army merc, Walton Goggins as a death row prisoner, Danny Trejo as a Mexican cartel stooge, and Alice "jerky woman" Braga. She's supposed to be playing an Israeli sniper, but she's Brazilian, she looks Brazilian, and she sounds Brazilian. It's just a stupid casting decision. It's also a stupid casting decision because she can't act and looks like a mummy, but I've already discussed her many "virtues" at length.

So the group of stranded killers finds a campsite with some pretty elaborate boobytraps apparently set by a dead soldier, they get attacked by big dog creatures. They have a lot of guns and a lot of ammo, but they seem woefully inept in this first encounter, only killing two of the damned things, which are the size of a fucking bear. The Russian commando has a fucking gatling gun, and only manages to graze one of them!

Danny Trejo collects his paycheck and leaves the movie, they look up in the sky and realize that they're not on Earth, even though every single plant around them can be found on Earth, and Adrian Brody puts the pieces together and tells the group that they're all being hunted. OOOH!!!

They stumble upon the Predator campsite and find a Predator who looks suspiciously like the Predator from the original film tied to a tree, or a pole, or something. The big bad Super Predators attack, and then the movie finally starts moving. Or not.

Laurence Fishburne shows up and leads them to his home inside of a derelict spaceship. He's supposed to be half crazy from being stranded on this planet for so long, but he's just annoying. I didn't buy his performance for a single moment. It's almost laughable how he plays his role. And he's fat. I'm not saying that as an insult to Mr. Fishburne, and actor I like, but his character is supposed be a hard-boiled survivor, trapped on an alien world and constantly evading the Super Predators. He simply looks too well fed to play the role.

Fishburne fills in some of the plots gaps, explaining that the big Predators they see are meaner, stronger Super Predators at war with the classic Predators. Neat idea, but there's never any elaboration. He then waits for his new friends to fall asleep, then starts a fire to smother them with smoke while they slumber. Adrien Brody blows something up to get the attention of the Super Predators. They show up, and Fishburne just stands there and lets one of them blast him into atoms with his shoulder cannon.

What a pointless character. The film grinds to a halt as soon as Fishburne shows up, which is a problem, considering the story was already unfolding rather slowly. He just spouts a bunch of exposition, talks to his imaginary friend, and decides to kill his potential allies because he apparently wants their stuff, before dying. Thanks for nothing, Laurence Fishburne.

The Russian commando blows himself up to kill one of the Super Predators, the rest of the group run away, and a Japanese guy who found a sword chooses to stay behind to fight another Super Predator one on one.

I understand that this sequence is supposed to be cool, but it's really not. The fight between the Yakuza guy and the Super Predator looks like it was shot in a backyard with a green screen, and knowing Robert Rodriguez, it probably was. There's no flair to this duel. The Super Predator just stands there and deflects the Yakuza guy's attacks until they both just fall down and die. We don't actually see anybody inflict any blows, but blows are inflicted, it seems. Pointless.

Adrien Brody, Beef Jerky Woman and Topher Grace go back to the Predator camp and Brody unties the captured Predator, thinking that together they can take the Predator's ship and get back to Earth. While this exchange is unfolding, Topher Grace decides now is a perfect time to reveal that he's a serial killer and he paralyzes Jerky with a neurotoxin he took from a flower earlier in the film.

Now's as good a time as any to address Topher Grace. The audience is supposed to be surprised by this "serial killer" reveal, but if they have any brains, they see it coming a mile away. It's not even really a surprise at all, because Rodriguez spoiled that little reveal nearly a year ago, anyway.

People are supposed to buy that Topher's just a simple doctor who got abducted by the Super Predators by mistake? No thanks. And why does he decide when the Big Bad Super Predator is coming to kill them all that it's the perfect time to kill the people who have kept him alive throughout the entire ordeal? He spouts some bullshit about wanting to stay because he feels a kinship with the Super Predators, but it doesn't ring true.

The Super Predators chose him why, exactly? He's not strong, and he's not terribly cunning. Did they think that chasing a scrawny serial killer with no real hunting skill to be sporting? His character just doesn't make a lot of sense.

Let me give you an example: There's a moment during the group's escape from the derelict ship when Topher gets separated from the others and ends up face to face with one of the Super Predators. This is the perfect time to reveal his true nature. Have him act cowardly, dropping to his knees and pleading for his life. Then have him pull out his scalpel and cut the Super Predator's leg, delivering a dose of the flower's neurotoxin. As the Super Predator falls, paralyzed, Topher can kill his prey at his leisure.

That would be a cool reveal. Instead, he runs away and gets saved by the Russian commando, who sacrifices himself to save Topher's life. Instead, we're left with something rather conventional. It's a disappointment.

So the classic Predator activates his ship, and Adrien Brody just runs off, ditching the Predator and leaving Jerky to the mercy of Doctor Dumb, as the Super Predator shows up. A short, one-sided fight ensues, and the classic Predator is quickly decapitated. Now we're supposed to see how dangerous this Super Predator is, because he took out this badass classic Predator with little effort.

The Super Predator then blows up the classic Predator's ship, just for spite. We're supposed to believe that Adrien Brody was on the ship, but only a 2 year-old would actually believe that. No, he shows up to stab Topher Grace in the jaw with his own scalpel, paralyzing the good doctor and strapping half a dozen grenades on his motionless body as a trap for the Super Predator.

Why, exactly, did Adrien Brody abandon the classic Predator in the first place? If he had half a brain, he would have stuck around to help the classic Predator defeat the Super Predator, so they could leave together. That's just common sense. The Predators have a sense of honor, so if Brody saved his life, he would be indebted to him. It's another stupid decision.

The Super Predator finds Topher Grace, who promptly blows up. Now a previous Super Predator was killed by two grenades. This one takes six grenades at point blank range and suffers a mild sunburn. Stupid. Then Adrien Brody shows up covered in mud for no good reason except that the Austrian Oak did it in the original, and he beats the Super Predator half to death before decapitating it with surprisingly little work.

This is a fundamental problem. The last act of "Predator" dealt with Arnold Schwarzenegger in a desperate struggle against his foe. We're treated to a nearly twenty minute-long duel between these two warriors. The Predator has the upper hand until Arnold hits him with a fucking tree, for pity's sake!

The climactic fight in "Predators" lasts less than five minutes. The classic Predator put up less of a fight! We're supposed to think the Super Predator is an insurmountable foe when he deals with our familiar Predator so ruthlessly, but the fucking Pianist kills him in less than five minutes! It's just laughable.

The film ends as Adrien Brody and Beef Jerky Woman stare up at the sky and see a new group of abductees falling from the sky. Adrian Brody says "Let's get off this fucking planet", and the credits roll to Little Richard's "Long Tall Sally" in yet another loving homage to the original film.

"Predators" was shockingly maybe two steps above "Alien Vs. Predator" in overall quality. The interesting concept can only take the film so far. The director, Nimrod Antal, made a pretty flat and uninspiring movie. The film's action is rarely that exciting. The Super Predators hardly even do any real hunting. The only members of the cast who are actually trying are Adrien Brody (despite and occassional dip into "Batman Voice"), Topher Grace (as comic relief before his "twist"), and Walton Goggins.

Of course, Walton Goggins is just a tremendous actor, and he was clearly having fun with his role. He goes out shanking a Super Predator in the throat! If you're not aware of Walton Goggins, firstly, shame on you. Secondly, watch "The Shield" and "Justified". You'll thank me later.

The rest of the cast ranges from bland (Alice Braga) to embarassing (Laurence Fishburne). So unlike the cast of the original "Predator", a film to which Robert Rodriguez's little pet project owes its entire existence. In "Predator", you actually cared when one of the soldiers got killed. In "Predators", you just shrug and move on to the rest of the cannon fodder.

In short (yeah right) "Predators" starts out with an interesting concept, but never truly delivers. It's the third best "Predator" movie, and that's certainly not saying much.

Stop Making Movies, Mister Night!

How do you celebrate Independence Day, my fellow Americans? I celebrated the holiday with my delightful family, in an escalating series of attempts to wound each other with "controlled" fire. It was a good time, I say. But that's not important, right now.

What is important? Movies.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Movies are important. And movies are why I get literally dozens of visitors to this blog each month. For some inexplicable reason, there are a few brave and/or deranged souls out there who actually scroll through my long, rambling, tangent-filled "reviews" of recent releases.

Granted, most of those people stumble upon my dark little corner of Internet during one of their frequent Google searches for porn, and find this... place... instead. Some of them even come back. I feel sorry for those people, but it is nonetheless true. I receive the occassional email from one of my "readers", and I appreciate the feedback.

But I recently slipped into a rare introspective moment. I blame it on the medication. I wondered why I started this ill-conceived blog, in the first place. I certainly didn't start out with the intention of writing long-winded posts about the many movies I see. So why? I was haunted when I inevitably concluded that I had no purpose for starting this blog.

In my earliest posts, I mentioned joining Facebook and starting my Youtube channel. But that's not why I started this damned thing. That came later. Joining Facebook was just a means to stay in contact with a few of my friends who live elsewhere. And I started my Youtube channel essentially just to show those few friends the recent "entertainments" I have been working on.

So why did I start this blog? Apparently, there is no answer to that question. I find that disconcerting.

Moving right along...

AIRBENDING IS FOR PUSSIES

M. Night Shyamalan. What the fuck? I never saw the man's first two films, "Praying With Anger" and "Wide Awake". Why? Because I just don't give a shit. Rosie O'Donnell is in "Wide Awake", for fuck's sake. How good could it possibly be?

So, like most people, Mister Night's career effectively began with "The Sixth Sense". I caught it on DVD, but miraculously remained unspoiled as to the film's big twist. And my cynical mind reflexively screamed "Die Hard's gonna be a fucking ghost!" the moment Donnie Wahlberg shot the man during the film's prologue. In the end, the film held no surprises for me. But it's still a very effective, well-made movie.

There's a confident and steady hand telling this story, and the actors are all at the top of their game. The film is at times exceedingly dour, and it drags. But it's the kind of movie that sticks with you for a while, and its plot demands at least a few repeat viewings.

Then he made "Unbreakable". As a huge comic book nerd, I was ready for this movie. Being a self-serious teenager, a movie that takes comic books and superheroes seriously was something I really wanted to see. And walking out of the cinema, I absolutely loved this movie. Sure, the conclusion sucked, but everything else was great.

Watching it again a few years later, my reaction was a little different. Overall, I still enjoyed the movie, but I saw its flaws. The incredibly serious, stoic nature of all the characters coupled with the film's almost oppressively bleak atmosphere really stood out for me. Why can't these fucking people have any fun? Is it against the law?

I still enjoy "Unbreakable". It's still my favorite M. Night Shyamalan movie. But it's lost a lot in repeat viewings. In 2000, I was dying to see a sequel. Now, I have absolutely no interest.

A lot of people love "Signs". A lot of people hate "Signs". We know all of the standard complaints. Water? God? Culkin? If you want to, you can tear this film apart. The basic plot can be broken down thusly: God orchestrates an extraterrestrial invasion, killing thousands, perhaps millions of people, all to restore the faith of a wayward minister. Maybe that doesn't sound fair to some folks, but that synopsis is just as valid as any other.

One thing about "Signs" that has always bugged me: no weapons. Until Merril picks up his bat and bashes an alien to death during the climax, nobody uses any fucking weapons in the movie. Sure, Mel Gibson cuts off a couple digits belonging to an alien trapped in a pantry, but he initially chooses the large knife as a mirror substitute. It barely counts.

When the shit hits the fan and Mel takes his family into the cellar, they use an axe to bar the door. Later on, when they all venture upstairs in the morning, they leave the fucking axe in the cellar! There is literally no good reason for them to leave the axe downstairs. It's insulting.

Mel Gibson lives on a farm. Shouldn't he at least have a shotgun on the premises?

And the ending, with Gibson returning to his godly duties, seems too heavy-handed. He doesn't need to become a minister again to illustrate his renewed faith in God. Earlier in the movie, during a scene that takes place in Gibson's bedroom, we see a spot on the wall where a crucifix has been removed. A more subtle ending would show Gibson leaving his room, fully dressed (but not in his minister costume), with the camera lingering behind, fading to black as the audience notices the crucifix has been restored to its place on the wall.

Maybe I'm wrong.

"Signs" has some serious fucking problems. But the first hour is a very effective thriller, and even when the plot shits the bed, Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix manage to sell it surprisingly well. I'm not a big fan of the film, but the acting keeps me watching if I catch it on cable.

I liked "The Village". There. I said it. I'm a fan of "The Village". I wish Mister Night had kept his original ending, with the park rangers looking at each other after seeing a blind Rennaisance Faire devotee wander out of the woods, muttering "Stupid fucking white people", but we can't always get what we want.

"Lady In The Water"? It's so fucking weird, I can't help but morbidly enjoy it. It's so intentionally bizarre, I can't take my eyes off the screen. Why does Freddy Rodriguez play a man who only works out one side of his body? What the fuck was that?

Mister Night bravely says "fuck the haters" by casting Bob Balaban as a dickish film critic who gets torn apart by a wicker dog. And he casts himself as Literary Jesus. I can't bring myself to hate such an odd, ego-driven movie. I just can't. Is it a "good movie"? Hell no. I refuse to defend it. But like a bloody car pile-up, I can't look away.

"The Happening" is a comic masterpiece. Every single time I see Marky Mark apologize to a plastic houseplant, I laugh until I cry. That is all.

That brings me to "The Last Airbender". I don't know a damned thing about the Nickelodeon cartoon upon which this film is based, but I refuse to believe that the cartoon is this bad. I didn't think I could see a worse movie than "Alice In Wonderland" this year. "Killers" proved me wrong. And now "The Last Airbender" has upped the ante.

I knew I was in trouble when the subtitle "Book One - Water" popped up. The fucking movie told me right away that I wasn't getting a complete story. Then what unfolded between this and the end credits made me want to vomit blood.

Some white eskimos find a little tattooed bald kid frozen in ice. Unlike most folks covered in tattoos, this kid is not badass. He's supposed to be the superawesome "Avatar", a unique entity with the ability to control all four elements, that comes along once every century. But he ran away from his responsibilites and got Encino Man'd. He thaws out and takes his Aryan eskimo friends on a boring adventure, learning how to bend water and master his Tai Chi poses along the way.

He rides a big white six-legged bison named "Abba", I guess. Maybe the creature's name isn't "Abba", but that little bald bastard said "Abba", so that's what I'm going with. It's not important, anyway. The big floating creature is completely inconsequential. We see it maybe four times in the movie. It doesn't do anything.

There's a moment during the big final battle where we see Abba surrounded by Fire Nation soldiers, roaring like mad. I thought maybe we'd see Abba fuck some people up, but the film cuts away from this moment, and we never see the damned animal again. Maybe it died, and Mister Night wanted to spare the kiddies Abba's horrific fate.

Baldie is being pursued by the Slumdog Millionaire, because his daddy doesn't love him. Slumdog's a firebender prince, and he wants to kill Baldie before he can learn to harness the four elements.

Baldie and his pals find another tribe of Aryan eskimos, and they all exchange white power pamphlets. Baldie's gecko-eyed eskimo buddy falls in love with a monkey-faced albino princess who rambles on and on about sacred trees, and fish, and whatnot. Slumdog's Fire Nation navy shows up and a big, boring fight ensues.

Dr. Kenchy from TV's "Jericho" and Slumdog's uncle sneak into a cave to kill a moon god, which turns out to be a big koi fish that swallowed a firefly. Uncle Slumdog tells Kenchy not to kill the moon god, but Kenchy stuffs it into a burlap sack and stabs it with a knife. Uncle Slumdog gets mad and conjures fire from nowhere, something that apparently is very rare. Kenchy runs away, and I wonder why Uncle Slumdog didn't do this neat little trick 30 seconds earlier to save moon god fish's life.

Killing the magic fish makes the moon turn red, and that makes the Aryan Eskimo Waterbenders unable to harness water, for some reason. Then the white albino monkey princess, who we've spent all of five minutes with, sacrifices her life to restore the magic fish. Gecko boy is sad. I have no idea why.

Baldie ends the big battle by ripping off the NTEs in "The Abyss", conjuring a wall of water hundreds of feet high, threatening to wipe out the entire Fire Nation navy. Common sense wins the day, and the Fire Nation guys get the fuck out of there while they still can. Then the movie ends. And a small piece of my soul died.

I don't know if anything I just wrote makes any sense. Eh.

"The Last Airbender" is bullshit. The story is rushed and yet boring, feeling overly long. Apparently the movie's only 103 minutes long, but I felt like I was sitting in the theatre for three hours. That's quite the feat.

The fight sequences are poorly shot, and there's never any sense of real danger. Half of the movie involves people practicing Tai Chi, as overly dramatic music swells. The music does nothing to make watching little kids practice Tai Chi exciting. The music just makes it more annoying.

Nobody can act in this movie. Every child actor is atrocious. The guy from "Slumdog Millionaire" apparently forgot he was ever in that Academy Award-winning movie, and decided to portray his character as a brain-damaged pyromaniac. And they all have to deliver some of the most unnatural and off-putting dialogue I have heard in a movie.

The only actor who actually added anything to his role was Shaun Toob, who played "Uncle Iroh". Every time Uncle Iroh was off-screen, the movie suffered. Although the first time he appeared in the movie, I immediately recognized him as one of the Triad villains in "Charmed". Yeah, I watched "Charmed".

The digital effects are okay.

One thing that stuck out was the film's ending. After Baldie saves the day with the mega tsunami, we cut to the Fire Nation King, talking to his crazy daughter. He tells her that in three years, some bullshit planetary alignment or somesuch will occur, and the Fire Nation will somehow become more powerful during this occurrence. At that time, they will have the power to defeat Baldie once and for all.

So he basically tells his daughter to venture forth and keep Baldie and his pals busy until the magnificent day when Ultimate Power will be bestowed upon the Fire Nation. Then the camera zooms into his daughter's crazy face, which is nothing but an evil smirk slapped onto a collection of nervous tics.

I thought I was going crazy when I saw this girl's face. What the fuck was the decision, there? Did Mister Night just show the actress footage of people afflicted with Parkinson's Disease and tell her to "go method"? Was I supposed to see this shuddering, smirking ghoul and take her seriously? I just broke out laughing. I couldn't control myself.

At that moment, I was certain that the last fragile thread of my sanity was violently snapping. Surely, I was hallucinating. My brother later confirmed that no, I had really seen what I had seen. Mind-boggling.

I later looked her up on IMDB. It turns out that the actress who played "Princess Yue" had played "Young Sand Serif" in "Frank Miller's Will Eisner's The Spirit". That makes sense. In a film filled with bad performances, her performance was the worst. I'm just glad to see that she's keeping this tradition with her very limited screen time in "The Last Airbender".

I had heard that the converted 3D version of "The Last Airbender" was horrid. I was talking about this with my cousin Ky a few days before I saw the movie. I told him that I wouldn't bother seeing it in 3D. Of course, my brother bought tickets to a 3D screening. And it was just as bad as I had feared. The fucking movie wasn't in 3D! A complete fucking waste.

I don't know what happened to M. Night Shyamalan. This static nightmare of a film felt like the work of a mildly retarded first-time director. Like he spent most of his time on-set smearing his feces on the boom mic operator instead of actually paying attention to his cast and crew. I don't know where the man could possibly go from here. It's kind of sad, really. From "The Sixth Sense" to this. How far we've fallen.

In short: Fuck "The Last Airbender".

I'll be back eventually to talk about "Predators". Right now, I need a stiff fucking drink.