What do you think this is, the Mos Eisley Cantina?

So this is a very awkward post.

Tonight I got in a bar fight. It was the first bar fight I’ve ever been in.  In fact, I’ve never really been in any kind of real “fight”.

But tonight, in a bar, someone took a shot at me. It was… unexpected. I hadn’t even been talking to the guy, I hadn’t jostled him, I wasn’t macking on his woman. He took a shot, and connected with my face.

And this is where it gets awkward, because we’re all pretty well indoctrinated with the idea that a real man doesn’t rise to the bait. He turns the other cheek, or he drops some throwaway line about “the first one being free” or “always bet on black” or “surf’s up” or whatever.

What would you do in that situation?

What I did was rise to the bait. The guy hit me, so I hit him back.

The difference between his hit and mine is that, whatever I may look like, I still have years of martial arts training under my belt. And while I haven’t trained actively in several years, it turns out that doesn’t matter.  All of those hundreds of hours of drills came back in a flash — so when I hit this guy, I think he very nearly ceased to exist.

I didn’t knock him out, but I knocked him down – he was done. His friends dragged him away, bleeding from the mouth. And that was that.

(Shortly thereafter, he was thrown out of the bar by the bouncers for being a damn idiot. So please do understand this: I did not start the fight.)

But here’s the thing that’s a bit awkward: I really feel bad that I got dragged into this, I wasn’t planning on ever having a bar fight (or any fight) in my life, and I was quite shaken up afterwards. But that I did, and that I won? It feels good. Really good.

Though of course that doesn’t mean I want to do it again.

Another thing that’s awkward: one of the several reasons that I stopped training was that I was super confident in my skills, was completely ready to throw down all the time. It turns out that confidence was pretty well justified. (But not aggression and over-competitiveness that went along with that confidence. Nothing could entirely justify that.)

Christ, saying all of this.  Sounds so… arrogant? But I’m really just trying to be straight about how I feel about the whole thing – this complex mixture of emotions – this isn’t a situation that comes up often, so forgive me if I want to get it down while it’s raw.

So here I am, in three or four minds about the whole thing. Regretting that it happened, but still somehow excited — possibly even a little proud, and I know that doesn’t sound like a good thing.

But I’m proud – proud because I won a fight I didn’t start, against someone bigger than me. Perhaps he was used to being able to use his height to bully people around? (I have no idea, I don’t know the guy from Job.)

What’s the moral? I don’t know.  Don’t start fights.  Never, ever start fights.

Another moral: It’s really fun to win a fight against an aggressor.

Oh, and if you do have a stink experience in a bar, there are lots of others, so leave and go to Whammy Bar for the Blondie contest, and then head next door to the Wine Cellar, you’ll have a fucking awesome night filled with lovely girls, old friends, great conversation, friggin’ delicious tapas, and tasty hooch. And there aren’t any fuckwits. (Well, not violent ones, anyway.)

On the Shoulders of Giants

There has been something of a fuss about the recently released poster for Diablo Cody’s forthcoming film Jennifer’s Body, as it turns out it looks somewhat familiar to anyone who has seen the advertising materiel for True Blood.

I think it’s quite clear that the Jennifer’s Body poster is, in the most optimistic terms inspired by the TrueBlood poster. But is it a rip-off, or is it a riff? Is it legitimately standing on the shoulders of giants?

Well there’s no question that the TrueBlood & Jennifer’s Body posters are much more similar (and developed) to one another than either of them are to these posters, I just want to point out that the motif isn’t an entirely original one.

We’re biologically programmed to find bright red lips pleasing, so there’s no surprise at all that lips have had a long history in movie posters.

But just take another look at how great that TrueBlood poster is. Wow.

Salvia Surprise

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The pipe is loaded with Salvia Divinorum (AKA Mexican Tripping Weed or Diviner’s Sage), which is legal in New Zealand.  It is remarkably, shockingly powerful stuff – but I think it’s appropriate that it should be legal for a couple of reasons: mainly because the effects only last about 10 minutes, but also that the biggest cons listed on the net for Salvia are that people don’t enjoy the experience – or are afraid of it – so don’t use it ever again.

Spoiler

A new video is on the way, all I’m going to tell you is it’s the most elaborate (and expensive) production yet, and it’s going to be really fun (if only for me.)

I guess the picture is some kind of a hint as well.  You’ll see.

Charlie Kauffman’s ‘Synechdoche, New York’ Trailer

Charlie Kauffman, noted genius writer of such masterpieces as Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, & Adaptation, is making his directorial debut with Synechdoche, New York, coming to a theatre near you in a couple of months.  I mention it because the trailer is now out, if you’re anything like me, I think this will get you quite excited.

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Looks delightfully surreal.

(Via Darren, or Matthew, whichever I saw first.)

How’s your colour vision?

I’ve been thinking about eyesight a lot lately – I’ve been slowly ramping up my contact lens wear, it’s a bit of a bear, but I want to be able to do things like… buy sunglasses that cost less than $600, wear ski goggles that don’t need to be ordered from the states (and have an ugly extra set of lenses shoehorned in), and just generally avoid dealing with the daily trials of spectacle wear.  Trials which aren’t too tough to be honest, but the attraction of having lenses I can stick in my eyes and just forget about for a month is very strong.

So when Darren posted a link on his tumblr to a colour vision “IQ” test, I was already primed for keeness.  I already knew my colour vision was very good – my optometrist has tested it, but that raft of tests is much more gross than this one.  And now I know that my colour vision, like Darren’s, is perfect.

It’s a quick test, and it’s fun to feel your eyes as they start scrabbling for purchase while you’re sorting the colour chips – a feeling most pronounced for me on the top row – so if you have a couple of minutes you should give it a go.

Hellboy II: The Golden Army

Guillermo del Toro’s last film before making the Hobbit movies, with his characteristically gorgeous visuals and fantastical creatures.  (If you haven’t seen Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) you really should – and you’re in for a treat. A tragic, painful, wonderful treat.)

The story is very nicely put together, with a lot of beautifully realised creatures (and characters) revealed as we delve into the hidden world of faeries, elves, goblins, and such.  Including a new origin story for toothfaeries (yeah, plural – very plural), very old-school Brother’s Grim style nastiness.

(I love this kind of alternate mythology for our old and well known tales – the first thing dragged me into really liking Stargate SG1 was their alternate explanation for the Norse “gods” and such, with the Asgaard, and such.)

The special (particularly creature) effects are spectactularly good.  The makeup is fabulous.

There’s something about the look & feel of the movie that bothers me though, like it’s been processed at a lower res, then upsampled with some sort of sharpening applied.  Or maybe it was shot on strange cameras?  I don’t know, I can’t quite put my finger on it.  But something felt a bit off.

Another thing that’s off, but probably even harder to put my finger on, is the story.  There’s a lack of depth somehow, there didn’t seem to be anything to really sink my teeth into.  I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t there.

Maybe it’s just that everything was thrown up on screen, with no real thought required?  I’m not sure.

Still, it’s a lovely colourful spectactle, if you see a lot of movies you should definitely see this one.

(Actually I’m putting some more thought into it, and there’s a possibility that the problem was my being distracted by an amazing smell throughout the film.  Like, I don’t even know, happiness & sunshine?)

Wanted (2008)

When you know a film was directed by Timur Bekmambetov, who made Dnevnoy Dozor (2006), you know it’s going to be visually rich, heavy on the clever editing, and with intense action.

And you know that dialog is going to be spelled out in the environment rather than spoken.  If you remember Dnevnoy Dozor, you’ll know what I mean – the word ‘BITCH’ splattering on a wall in large bloody letters, and so on.  Here we have, for instance, the line “FUCK YO” spelled out in flying keyboard keycaps, and a single spinning bloodied tooth making up the last “u”, after a character is smashed in the face with a computer keyboard.

And you know that cars are probably going to be driven in very improbable ways.  Sideways along buildings… or sideways along buses.  Once you’re sideways and driving, it’s all much of a muchness, I find.

What you might not know is that Angelina Jolie is a FOX.  (Ok, actually you probably do know that.)  But you still wouldn’t expect that anyone would have the combination of a brain injury and sufficiently gigantic cojones to give her character the name Fox.  What you should know is that Morgan Freeman probably shouldn’t swear on screen (it sounds strange).  And that Tumnus can curve bullets in perfect arcs to strike objects behind obstacles.

Sorry, I don’t mean Tumnus, but actor James McAvoy, who played Tumnus in the first Narnia movie.  Here he’s a pretty close facsimile of the pre-psychotic break version of Tyler Durden.  Sitting in his office, inner monologue played out for all to hear, slowly swelling rage against his boss building inexorably to an explosion.

So, wow, not a fawn? That’s some dynamic range right there.

Actually, Fightclub gets just the first of many (ahem) tributes in this movie.  There’s a lot that really feels like it came from somewhere else.

But aside from being perhaps a little distracting, it doesn’t really matter that a lot of material is being lifted, because this movie is fun.  You will only take it seriously at your peril.  The action is ridiculous (but internally consistent).  There are ridiculous plotlines, and plotholes in them that you could drive a train through… Or flip a car over.

So if you can, just ignore the plotholes and enjoy the gunplay – this film features one of the most wonderfully preposterous sequences of running gun kumite battling.  (I was going to say gun kata, but that might make the few people who know what I’m talking about – *hint* Equilibrium *hint* – think it’s a more rigid and controlled sequence than the messy slow motion charging sliding, shot and bleeding, battle that it is.)

So, yes, I enjoyed it, and more than I expected I would, even in spite of so much of the premise being completely preposterous – everything with the loom, for instance, or the kid’s training (seriously? they’re just going to punch and stab him over and over again until he magically becomes elite?), or the overused curving bullets, that whole thing with the train, or any of the driving scenes.

Good fun, but if you don’t go to many movies you can probably skip this one pretty safely.

21 (2008)

The fictionalised “true” story of a group of MIT students who, along with a teacher use a card counting method to win large in Las Vegas.

Our protagonist is an entirely repugnant and unsatisfying character for the large majority of the movie, and went a long way to stopping any enjoyment I could have in the film.

Put simply: with some very dodgy writing and plot elements, and a terrible main character, they really just missed the mark.

It’s too bad, I wanted to enjoy it, but the good performances from much of the cast  – my favourite being Choi (Aaron Yoo), a delighfully kleptomaniac student, with good screen presence – just couldn’t save it.

Don’t bother.

Diary of the Dead (2007)

George A. Romero’s latest zombie flick. Given that he (more or less) invented the genre, you’d think he’d be better at making them.

With terrible writing and direction, it really never had a chance. There’s just one cheese ball scene after another, no frights, no fun, and no depth.

If it’s reasonable to distinguish an actor from his dialogue – and the stupid awful shit his director has made him do – then perhaps it’s possible to say that some of the performances are… ok.  But no one stands out.

And let’s be honest, if a character is delivering awful clunky lines while making a series of almost perfectly bad choices, groping around in a shadowy warehouse, backing through doorways in the most suicidal manner, it’s very hard to separate the puppet from his puppeteer.

Filmed Blair Witch/Cloverfield style (though with a lot of smoothing/steadicam), but seemingly only so Romero can cack-handedly force his “social commentary” about, apparently, the perils of the media & being detached from events around you when you watch the world through a camera.

I know: you what?

The thing that elevates a good zombie movie from this type of dross – apart from good dialogue and reasonable characters – is relevant social/political commentary and satire.  Diary of the Dead absolutely strikes out on this front.  A good writer might have pulled it off, but I think he must have called in sick that day – assuming they even had one, which would seem generous.

I enjoyed the digitally composited effects (because the technology excites me – it’s easily within grasp of even the very lowest budget productions), and a few scenes with stereotypical-drunken-British-professor-archetype #3 (he wields a bow and arrow with devastating effect, and later on a devilishly sharp sword similarly well).

Avoid this terrible movie like the impending zombie apocalypse.  I watched it so you don’t have to.