Random Movie Report #19: Gamera the Brave

One of my various items of L.A. swag came from the fine people at Amoeba Music (6400 Sunset.) The store's known for CDs and LPs (naturally), but has a fine selection of DVDs, including many imports, including this Hong Kong R3 release of the latest Gamera adventure. (This means you'll need a multi-region DVD player if you're not in that particular region, which includes Hong Kong, the Philippines, Nepal, Monster Island, and Arrakis.)

Gamera, for those who don't watch enough MST3K, is a giant firebreathing turtle who fights evil monsters, protects children and has been the star of several films in Japan, starting with GAMERA in 1965. At the time he was a competitor to Godzilla, with his films done on a lower budget (back when Godzilla movies had fairly strong production values) and aimed at a slightly younger crowd. His first film series fizzled out in the early Seventies when the studio collapsed, and though he appeared in the movie SUPER MONSTER GAMERA in 1980, that was composed mostly of clips and didn't lead to much of anything. Starting in 1995, a resurrected Daiei Studios began a new Gamera trilogy, featuring improved effects and a slightly darker tone; the films presented Gamera as "the guardian of the universe", engaged in an endless war against horrific creatures out to destroy humanity. After it wrapped in 1998, the character lay dormant. Now he's back in GAMERA THE BRAVE (Japanese title: GAMERA: CHIISAKI YUSHA-TACHI, which I've seen translated as "The Little Braves" or "The Little Heroes", but I don't know Japanese so your guess is as good as mine), which goes back to the hero's kid-friendly roots, focusing on a young boy and his pet turtle, who turns out to be a prehistoric monster. Though kaiju fans weren't thrilled at the idea of a kiddified reboot, the results are actually fairly charming; it works as a children's adventure and an all-ages giant monster romp, and though it's a bit on the underdeveloped side, it's pretty, fun, and never dull.

The film begins in 1973, where we see Gamera battling a horde of batlike Gyaos monsters outside a small town in Japan, near Nagoya (I think.) To destroy the creatures, Gamera immolates himself, sacrificing his life to save humanity. We move forward to the same town in 2006, where a boy named Toru (I can't provide cast names because IMDB doesn't know who played whom) lives and works in a restaraunt run by his recently-widowed father. One day he sees a bright light coming from a distant island near the area where Gamera was destroyed, and finds an egg, from which hatches a baby turtle, whom he names Toto. Because he's not allowed to have pets, he has to hide Toto from his father, and in the process he discovers that the turtle has the ability to fly, and can grow at a remarkable rate. He shares this secret with his friends, who help move Toto into a shack when he grows too big. Meanwhile, a giant, man-eating monster named Zedus- who looks like a cross between Godzilla and one of the dilophosaurs from JURASSIC PARK- has been terrorising Japanese ships, and very suddenly comes ashore in Toru's home town. By that point, though, little Toto has grown up into a brand new Gamera, and he quickly shows up to do battle with the fearsome dinosaur thingy. Zedus is driven off for a time, but Gamera/Toto has been wounded and fatigued, and may not recover in time for the monster's next appearance.

In terms of execution and tone, this is really more a children's movie than a monster movie. The focus is not on scientists and military men and the like, but on Toru and his friends and his pet monster. It's a way of sort of approaching the genre from the side, which may be a good idea, as the most recent series of Godzilla films had trouble really capturing the attention of the Japanese public. For about a third of the film's running time, Toto is just a normal sized, and very cute, little turtle, and people who can appreciate such things will have plenty of opportunities to go "aww" as the brave pet waddles along streets and through kitchens. Even as Gamera, he's smaller than the original and given big Bambi eyes, and he's standing up to a much bigger monster. With our hero at a definite size disadvantage, he has to win through courage and heart and that sort of thing, and the kids, acting as Gamera's family even while he's protecting them, have to help out (this ties into a subplot about a friend of Toru's going into hospital for a heart operation, but I'm playing that down since I can't remember her name.) As clichéd as this sounds, and almost is, the filmmakers do manage to conjure up an actual plot device by which they can aid Gamera, one that leads to a particularly clever and kid-empowering scene. It's well done, really it is- I would have preferred a bit more suspense, but that's not too big a problem.

There's a slightly dark counterpoint to the main action that gives it some weight. Toru's mother is dead (the fate of many a mother and/or father in children's fiction- it's not just Disney), and at the beginning, as Toru and his father visit a memorial shrine, he narrates that, contrary to what his father says about her looking down from heaven, as far as he's concerned mother is just bones in a tomb. Needless to say, there's something quasi-mystical about Gamera's reincarnation, but Toru, knowing that the last Gamera destroyed himself, doesn't want to admit his pet turtle is taking up the mantle; he doesn't want to lose another loved one. As Toto grows into Gamera, though, he learns that he needs to have faith in the turtle just as his mother and father have some faith in him- there are lessons of trust and willingness to let go that are quite interesting. The convincing performances by the child actors help this angle a lot.

As a kaiju film, the movie still works. The visual effects are, for the most part, very good; having the monsters be relatively small allows for more detailed miniatures, a lesson learned from the last Gamera trilogy. Some of the CGI work is dodgy, while the design of Zedus is vaguely sloppy, but still appealing. (One major complaint I had is that the enemy monster pretty much pops out of nowhere, without even a "nuclear accident" or "ancient prophecy of doom" to explain anything. Perhaps they felt the kids would get too bored with such exposition.) I also, for want of a good lead-in, want to praise the film's visual style- there are a lot of warm-yet-soft colors, and it's pleasant to look at throughout. (I notice this in a lot of Japanese films, for some reason.)

GAMERA THE BRAVE is set up as the first entry in a potential trilogy- I have been able to find no information whatsoever as to whether this film was a success financially, so who knows what will happen (uncomfirmed word has it bombing, which is a shame if true). But it's a solid series reboot, one that makes the material feel very fresh and new. The potential arc of Gamera "growing up" could also be appealing. It's also just a good children's movie, bright and straightforward and exciting without being too scary. Even kaiju fans will find stuff to like, if the "kiddie" element doesn't put them off. I hope this sees an American DVD release soon (there's been at least one screening in the US that I know of), and I'm glad I caught it early.

Written by Yukari Tatsui
Directed by Ryuta Tazaki

Grade: B+

Comics Rambling: Civil War, Post-Mortem

There's a bumper crop of content sitting around my apartment, but I've decided to blog about something everybody else in the comics scene has already blogged about: Marvel's CIVIL WAR. The end came on February 21st, and the end was Not Good. I've written earlier that I was enjoying the series and intended to see it through to its conclusion, and so I did, and not only did the end not live up to expectations, it brought down my opinion of everything I'd read and overall managed to leave a very bad taste in my mouth.

So, the bad guys won. That's oversimplifying it- the Pro-Registration forces weren't really meant to be shown as the bad guys, even though they ended up in that light, and it's not like their position doesn't have any logical backing behind it. Were superpowered beings to exist in real life, we would probably feel better if they answered to some authority higher than their consciences, as they probably would not think in caption boxes or thought bubbles. But we, and by this "we" I mean "we the people reading CIVIL WAR", are fans of superhero comics, and as such we subscribe to the conventions thereof, including the idea that for the most part, these extraordinary people operate outside of the law to catch bad guys who themselves manage to evade the law's grasp. It's one of the founding principles of the genre, and so the Anti-Regs have our sympathy from the start. On top of this, the Pro-Registration forces promptly sacrifice whatever moral high ground by: 1) Creating an evil clone of Thor, 2) sending illegal heroes and villains alike to a high-tech Guantanamo Bay situated in the Negative Zone, and 3) hiring known supervillains to hunt down the rogue heroes. They were acting like villains themselves. So when Captain America decides that he's been wrong all this time and surrenders, and the former villains look hopefully into the sunset as their new utopia comes to pass, one gets a very bitter, queasy feeling.

It's worth noting how much this story comes to resemble Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' resplendent WATCHMEN, rightly regarded as one of the best things comics have ever done. Those who have not read it should skip this paragraph. In said book, the "villain", Ozymandias, pulls off a horrific variation on the OUTER LIMITS "Architects of Fear" trick, staging an alien attack that really kills millions of people, thus tricking the world powers (who are on the brink of WWIII) into declaring peace so that they can stand united against the nonexistent menace. The book's heroes do the most good by failing to stop him, but for the lone holdout Rorschach, who dies rather than compromise his principles. In CIVIL WAR, the group acting most supervillainy is shown to have a utilitarian end, and they succeed for the moment, while the rogue idealist heroes fail- and it is suggested that this may be for the better. But somewhere in WATCHMEN's ambiguity and darkness, there is beauty and a sense of catharsis and closure. It manages this delicately, through depth of characterization and of imagery- the cynicism balanced against a sense of nostalgia. CIVIL WAR never manages this kind of balance- for all its grim seriousness, it's basically another beat-'em-up, and can't handle its own conceptual weight.

So, it's not really poignant or moving. Unfortunately, it's not really fun either. The first six issues passed by with nary a hint of irony, and while there are attempts in this final issue to bring in humor and fun and a sense of action, it just plain doesn't fit. I'm not sure if it's the context or just the writing in itself, but a sense of actual fun craziness is deeply lacking.

In the end, the story doesn't work because it doesn't make us FEEL enough of anything. (Except, maybe, disappointment at having spent over twenty dollars.) In a misguided attempt to be "balanced" when dealing with the issue at hand, the book ends with a finale that isn't quite triumphant, or tragic, or infuriating, or gentle, or funny. In the end it can't decide what it wants us to feel, regardless of what "side" we take; someone who views the Pro-Registration forces as heroes won't necessarily feel vindicated by the finale, in which the opposition gives up for rather contrived reasons and the moral justification for less-than-ethical actions is never explored. It's not so much that a work of art can't be ambiguous or complex or create conflicted perspectives among the audience, but it has to generate some kind of emotional impact.

It's a very cynical work, and not just in the "big event designed to get you to pay lots and lots of money" sense. On some level, the architects of this event seem not to trust the underpinnings of the genre on which Marvel Entertainment as a publisher depends. They seem determined to point out that there is something wrong with individual idealism and rogue adventurers at a time- and this is where it gets curious- when the superhero genre has gained more mainstream acceptance than it has in decades. Moviegoers flocked to see the latest adventures of Spider-Man, the X-Men, Superman, and Batman (and apparently Ghost Rider made some money against all odds.) HEROES, a show combining low-key powers and non-spandex clothing with comic-book melodrama and monologues, is a ratings smash. And superhero comics are continuing their slow crawl out of the hole they fell into in the mid-Nineties. The mainstream American audience in this post-9/11, post-Katrina, mid-Iraq-War world still has some need for the heroic ideal and the uncompromising moral paragon, to say nothing of us devoted fans.

DC, as much as I disagree with a lot of what they do, gets this- the changes of INFINITE CRISIS and beyond have all been targeted towards establishing a world where Heroes are Heroes, people who rise above their flaws. In CIVIL WAR we have Captain America, almost literally the embodiment of an ideal, throwing that ideal aside because the public doesn't agree with it; we have Iron Man and Mr. Fantastic succumbing to a grim utilitarianism, pursuing the least horrific of several projected bad outcomes. The moral tone of the world is dictated by a single grieving mother unable to see beyond her individual crusade, and (in FRONT LINE #11) a reporter who thinks Captain America doesn't represent his country anymore because he's not familiar with MySpace (I swear to GOD I am not making this up.) Maybe we're supposed to be unhappy with this, or maybe we're supposed to accept this as the Real World and discard ideals because we can't afford them. It doesn't work anyway.

That CIVIL WAR doesn't work may not be that much of a surprise. It's the sort of thing that's very tough to pull off, brilliant as it may sound on paper. But the execution is, in the long run, half-assed. At best, the book is a misguided attempt at relevance and a too-muted-to-register critique of modern America (the rest of the world doesn't get a look in during the entire series- particularly odd seeing as it was written by a Brit); at worst, one gets the vague sensation that the creators are giving the finger to those of us who slogged our way through all seven issues.

So, it was unpleasant. There is much good in the comic book world, though, and I plan to get to it soon. And remember, in five years' time things will be back to the old status quo anyway. I'm looking forward to that.

In Theaters: Reno 911! Miami

There may not have been much reason to make RENO 911!, the funnier-than-it-sounds cop spoof running on Comedy Central, into a feature film. But, as with last year's STRANGERS WITH CANDY, it's a worthy translation, slightly smuttier and a tiny bit more plot-heavy than its source material but basically not a major change. Written and directed by the same team behind the series with all the original cast, RENO 911! MIAMI is a fun, inconsequential comedy which I'd recommend catching before it leaves theaters, though it'll probably hold up just as well on DVD.

The main characters are the members of the Reno, Nevada Sheriff's Department, who are invited to attend a police convention in Miami. A mixup lands them in a cheap hotel away from the convention center, which, the next morning, is hit by a mysterious bioterror attack, putting everyone inside under quarantine. This leaves the Reno team the only law enforcement in the entire city, and they must not only keep order but discover who attacked the center so an antidote can be found. Not being used to heavy-duty police work, or for that matter not very competent at all, the team stumble through various encounters and try to resolve some personal dilemmas in the process.

The film, like the show, is an ensemble piece, driven by its characters (in fact, the film was loosely scripted, with plenty of room given for improvisation.) The leader, Lieutenant Jim Dangle (Thomas Lennon), has tiny shorts, aspirations to join the Aspen PD, and a growing acknowledgment of his not-really-latent homosexuality. Deputy Trudy Wiegel (Kerry Kenney-Silver), a wiry, socially awkward woman, persists in a crush on him nonetheless, while the curvaceous and fun-loving Deputy Clementine Johnson (Wendi McLendon-Covey) spends much of the film trying to find out the identity of a man whose face ends up tattooed on her breast. The other members of Reno's finest- Deputy Travis Junior (Robert Ben Garant), Deputy Raineesha Williams (Niecy Nash), Deputy Cherisha Kimball (Mary Birdsong), Deputy James Garcia (Carlos Alazraqui), and Deputy S. Jones (Cedric Yarbrough)- don't get a lot of plot action, but in the end the plot isn't very important anyway, and everybody gets funny stuff to do. (Fans of THE STATE will also spot fellow alumni David Wain, Michael Showalter and Michael Ian Black, all playing people in tattoo parlors Johnson hits to find the wearer of the face on her chest.)

As mentioned above, the movie is raunchier than the basic cable show which spawned it, with swearing, nudity, a funnier-than-it-should-be masturbation gag, and an amusing sex scene, among other general R material. Inevitably it becomes a bit of a patchwork, but some gags do stand out, notably a series of repeated and random encounters with a Scarface-esque drug dealer (Paul Rudd, of all people) who interrogates the hapless officers about something they have no clue about while threatening their "partners" with sadistic tortures. There's also a run-in with at least one Reno troublemaker who finds himself in Miami through circumstances best left unexplained.

There's not a whole lot to say about this movie, really, but it's a solid bit of goofiness from a team that specializes in that kind of quality dumb humor. It's short, fast-moving and doesn't let the plot get in the way of any good gags. I'm still not wholly sure how this film ended up getting made, but so much the better. I hope we see more from these people.

Written by Ben Garant, Thomas Lennon, & Kerry Kenney (based on the TV series created by same)
Directed by Ben Garant

Grade: B+

Brief Oscar Impressions

First off, I see that the average post rate for the blog has dropped a tad. Sorry about that- I've been in L.A. since last Thursday, and didn't really have time to write. Don't worry, I picked up some cool stuff worthy of review while there, so March should be big.

Anyway, while in L.A., I saw the Oscars. At somebody's apartment over in the Valley, and on Tivo because I went to my brother's improv show at the UCB theater, mind you, but I saw them in full and didn't know the results and was only really an hour behind. Time-shifting is very very fun.

I'm very cool with THE DEPARTED winning. As you know, it didn't really make the Top 5, but I just plain didn't see the other nominees, nor do I feel hugely inclined to- it was a dull slate to start with, full of Important and Respectable pictures (plus one indie comedy about a Quirky Family that also criticises Mainstream Culture) that might be worth seeing at some point, but aren't going to make cinema history. Neither is THE DEPARTED, but it has one thing going for it that a lot of films, including other Oscar winners, don't- it's fun. It's a violent and brutal and hugely enjoyable genre picture, which happens to have strong characters and themes and a rich atmosphere. It's worthy, and Scorcese has been in top form lately, so his Oscar was not only long belated, but richly earned in itself.

On the downside, CHILDREN OF MEN, the actual best movie of the year, was completely and utterly shut out. I blame this not so much on the Academy, but on Universal Pictures, who gave this film no push, no buzz, no heat whatsoever. With proper promotion this could have been the first science fiction film to win Best Picture- instead it wasn't even considered.

PAN'S LABYRINTH also deserved more than it got, but it was at least thrown a few bones. The awards were spread around pretty evenly, which is always good, and I was very pleased to see victories by Alan Arkin, Forest Whitaker, and Helen Mirren (as inevitable as that was). It is to my shame that I have not seen THE QUEEN yet, because unlike some of the other Important movies this year it's something that actually interests me.

Ellen Degeneres was amiable as the host, not as memorable as some, but still always likable and sweet. Her interaction with Scorcese and Eastwood was particularly amusing, the topper being when she asked Spielberg to take a picture. There was a good sense of fun at the ceremony when all was said and done. The "Comedian at the Oscars" number was also a highlight.

Writing was well-represented in its way; the montage showing writers at work was more enjoyable than most, and the novel idea of the presenters for both the original and adapted awards reading out the direction managed to successfully convey that screenplays are about more than dialogue.

So, it was a better ceremony than most, with no huge disappointments. The Oscars are never really about the best movies or the most deserving craftsmen, but they can be a nice celebration of the medium itself. As they were this past Sunday.

Movies: Top Ten of 2006 and Assorted Miscellany

2006 was a dark year at the movies. Almost everything had a faint veneer of glumness, from the art house classics to the big blockbusters to the kiddie flicks. This may just be continued despondence over world events, which is understandable, but surely in such times escapism is also sorely needed. Probably explains why that CGI penguin movie made so much money. But it was a good year, one without many dry spells, which is rare. And now that I've seen almost everything I'm supposed to see, here comes the list.

1. CHILDREN OF MEN. By far the most passionately life-affirming film to come out this year. Despite a bleak setting full of war and violence, it focuses on just how amazing the fact of living is, and how humanity needs to do whatever it can to hang onto it. Alfonso Cuaron brings a rich, sensual quality to the story alongside a bit of technical wizardry, including a long unbroken shot that almost passes unnoticed. Quite possibly a new masterpiece of science fiction cinema.

2. AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH. Al Gore's strangely riveting presentation on the threat posed by manmade global warming is given a modest but effective cinematic treatment. The science is clear, the pace is fast, and the added insight into Gore's past and what led him to this crusade adds a necessary human side. Throughout, one is struck by the man's moral clarity and strange optimism that, as dire as the looming catastrophe is, we have the power to stop it, and without even giving up our cars. A must see.

3. PAN'S LABYRINTH. A complex blend of the fantastic and the real, in which a little girl finds herself in the midst of a moral maze. Guillermo Del Toro's visual style is wonderfully inviting, and the story is downright tearjerking, featuring some incredible performances alongside cool imagery and a subtle religious allegory.

4. A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION. What Robert Altman knew would be his final film, despite never telling us, this cracking ensemble comedy is not only a great screen translation of Garrison Keillor's still-running radio series, it's also a nice meditation on death itself, both its inevitability and the way that life continues. A neat fusion of Altman and Keillor's sensibilities, it's both poignant and funny, a fitting capstone to a great career.

5. SUPERMAN RETURNS. No, he doesn't punch anyone. He doesn't have to. The Man of Steel's return is a lush and vibrant spectacle, gorgeous to look at and full of wit and sophistication. It builds on the legacy of the first two Superman spectaculars by Messrs. Donner and Lester, but Bryan Singer adds a distinct retro-pop visual style and some very dark exploration of Superman's alienation and distance from the people he protects, making his journey to reconnect with them the central struggle. In the meantime he saves airplanes and lifts an island out of the ocean. So you can, in fact, have it both ways.

6. A SCANNER DARKLY. The first truly dedicated adaptation of a Philip K. Dick novel, and though fidelity to the source isn't really an aesthetic virtue in and of itself, it's nice to see the distinct vibe of PKD's works finally captured on film. A low-key science fiction drug narrative, marked by a subtle sadness, Richard Linklater's latest uses the animation technique pioneered in WAKING LIFE to add life to drab surroundings and make us increasingly unsure of the reality of anything. Powerful stuff overall.

7. THE DEPARTED. Don't call it a comeback. Scorcese's latest may not be the most ambitious film he's ever done, but we don't judge movies by their aspirations, but by how well they do what they set out to do. (Well, I judge them like that. You may decide otherwise.) It's a scorching, cynical, and hugely entertaining remake of the HK police drama INFERNAL AFFAIRS, featuring what may be the best performance of Leonardo DiCaprio's career, and equally solid work from everyone else in the cast. The violence is shocking, the atmosphere lurid, the streets grimy, and the characters untrustworthy to a man. Nobody does this kind of thing better.

8. CARS. What would have been Pixar's last film for Disney took some flack for being too slow and too small, but that's sort of the point. An elegy for a very specific slice of American arcana- the "Route 66" experience and the days when driving was about the journey as much as the destination- this bright and funny animated fable also moves to a more general illustration of the virtues of slowing down and retaining a connection to the past. It's also very, very pretty.

9. V FOR VENDETTA. Two British films set in the near future featuring fascist governments in the same year- I wonder if this is a sign. Anyway, this radical adaptation of the Alan Moore comic isn't as purely anarchic as the source material, but adds a strong central plotline along with a polished post-millennial aesthetic. The politics are unremarkable; the imagery is astounding, with large compositions and small details combining to create a melodramatic symphony of rebellion and revenge. Hugo Weaving turns in a great performance despite being deprived of his face.

10. INSIDE MAN. Spike Lee dips his toe into mainstream waters with a sharp bank heist drama carried by amazing performances. Denzel Washington has never not been a good leading man, and Clive Owen (bookending the list along with co-star Chiwetel Ejiofor) demonstrates remarkable magnetism as well, but good performances abound, and Lee brings a sense of reality, even occasional mundanity to the proceedings which helps make the "thriller" bits work better. That Lee may also know New York better than any human being on the planet helps too. A caper film which not only holds together (a rare feat, or so it seems sometimes), but lets us connect to the characters as people rather than as playing pieces.

Not Seen:
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
INLAND EMPIRE
TIDELAND
BABEL
DREAMGIRLS
VOLVER

Performances which impressed me (an annual list that I don't bother subdividing):

Clive Owen, CHILDREN OF MEN
Michael Caine, CHILDREN OF MEN
Claire-Hope Ashitey, CHILDREN OF MEN
Chiwetel Ejiofor, CHILDREN OF MEN
Doug Jones, PAN'S LABYRINTH
Meryl Streep, A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION
Lily Thomlin, A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION
Kevin Spacey, SUPERMAN RETURNS
Parker Posey, SUPERMAN RETURNS
Leonardo DiCaprio, THE DEPARTED
Hugo Weaving, V FOR VENDETTA
Stephen Fry, V FOR VENDETTA
Kelsey Grammer, X-MEN: THE LAST STAND
Johnny Depp, PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Bryce Dallas Howard, LADY IN THE WATER
Amy Sedaris, STRANGERS WITH CANDY

Most Underrated FIlm of the Year:
LADY IN THE WATER. A strange, unique fantasy story that may just have been too unironic for its own good (and that the critics seemed to take the unkind fate of Bob Balaban's character as a legitimate reason to dislike the film didn't help.) We have an original fantasy, told with a strange intimacy and featuring a truly eclectic cast of characters, setting down its own rules and demanding we pay a bit more attention than usual; the "twists", this time, constitute the architecture of the myth.

Runner-up:
SNAKES ON A PLANE. A fun monster movie which met an unusually fierce bit of backlash from the mainstream press, which downright revelled in its disappointing box-office take and pointed to it as proof that internet buzz could never ever ever supplant traditional publicity. Maybe they're right, but this is still fun.

The Bookshelf #2: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

Used bookstores are the best kind, really. The books are cheaper, slightly aged (but seldom beyond the point of readability), and they carry the weirdest stuff sometimes. Case in point: SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND, a novelization of a bad musical with little dialogue to start with which began filming without a script. I had to have this, really, if only to see how they did it. And Henry Edwards, the film's screenwriter (as such), is the author, which adds a bit of curiosity value. And though I'm as much a Beatles fan as anyone, the misbegotten 70s musical is a nicely sacrilegious thrill, so spectacularly missing the point that it becomes amusing in itself, and I hoped for the same from the book.

I wasn't disappointed. Most novelizations are pretty flat affairs, not going far beyond what you can see on the screen (the original point of such books being to provide a sort of recollection of the film because home video wasn't available), and generally being written by people who would most likely rather be doing their own work but need a paycheck. This is a change. Edwards seems almost enthused about the project, and goes beyond the meager elements of the film to add all kinds of extra stuff. It's still not good, but it didn't make me want to hurl it across the room either.

The plot. Oh, yes, there is a plot. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was a legendary band hailing from the town of Heartland, U.S.A., a magical small-town utopia of the sort beloved by early sitcoms and conservative politicians. They played throughout WW1 and WW2 and the 50s and brought happiness and joy to millions, right up until the point when Sgt. Pepper himself died. The legacy has now been passed to young Billy Shears, nicest of the nicest, and local boys Mark, Dave, and Bob Henderson. As soon as they start playing, they get an offer from Big Deal Records to come to LA and make an album, and are suddenly bigger than Jesus. While they're away (one can only assume they write home every day), Mean Mr. Mustard, a real estate agent under the command of the mysterious FVB, comes into Heartland, steals the magical instruments of the original Lonely Hearts Club Band, and buys up the town, turning it into a sleazy dump. He's also got his eye on Billy's girlfriend, the oh-so-lovely-and-perfect Strawberry Fields.

It's crazier and dumber than it sounds. Both movie and book take this really surreal approach to the story, so that Heartland isn't just a nice town, it's freaking PLEASANTVILLE, and everyone there is the bestest and nicest they can be, and no good ever comes from leaving it. La-La Land is corrupt and full of drugs and sex and no good ever comes from going there. The book is written in the present tense, full of short sentences written in brash prose. Exclamation points abound. I'll excerpt some of this.

"The crowd boogies in front of the bandstand. The brashy boys and the silly girls leap high into the air! When the band sings of love, the audience shouts back, 'We love you!' And they do! No music has ever made them so happy, has ever made them want to dance and sing, has ever made them feel that every single day will be sunny from this day on."

The prose is so similar to that of a children's book that one is shocked when references to sex and drugs pop up. In the meantime, Edwards manages to sneak in all sorts of goofy backstory that wasn't in the movie- we learn about the silly and brashy girls and boys (respectively) such as Peter and Mimi and Hans and Carrie, and Butcher Jack and Farmer Jasper and Teacher Ellen and Postman Hank. It's like a cross between Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon and those STAR WARS anthologies wherein every visible character in the films is given a backstory longer than ULYSSES. Even the incomprehensible robots that serve Mr. Mustard are given distinct personalities. This is what makes me think that Edwards actually put some effort into this gig, like he had all this detail worked out in his head but couldn't fit it into the script. Or maybe he had to fill 190 pages- at one point, he actually just starts listing famous pop stars and acts, and goes on for five pages in a litany that makes the Book of Numbers seem action-packed. There is actually one added detail in the whole thing that I sort of liked- in an obvious jab at the Church of Scientology, we learn that Mustard was recruited by FVB when he took a free personality quiz that classed him as a complete loser, and was offered the opportunity to make himself a winner by joining up. It becomes a running gag for FVB's other minions (I'd tell you what FVB is, but let's just say it's unbelievably stupid), and it's kinda funny. Obvious, but funny.

Oh, yeah, the songs- they're written out in verse, with distinct borders and their own typeface. I actually rushed through them since they lose something sans music, but it's nice to have an extra lyric sheet handy. Half of the dubious joy in watching the movie is seeing great songs mangled by the goofiest renditions imaginable, from George Burns' "Fixing A Hole" to Steve Martin's "Maxwell's Silver Hammer"- my personal favorite is the version of "Mean Mr. Mustard" performed by Mustard's incomprehensible robots. (There's actually a good performance or two mingled in there, and Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees make an okay cover band, but I'm getting off track.) Just seeing the lyrics doesn't have that same shock value.

Many things went wrong when making "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" (or, more accurately, "Most of Sgt. Pepper plus most of Abbey Road plus some other songs") into a movie, but reading this I finally pinned down the big miscalculation. "Sgt. Pepper" the album came from the crazy idealistic neo-bohemian side of the counterculture of the late sixties, the side that believed war was best opposed by surrealism and the words "peace" and "love" flying over Terry Gilliam landscapes. It was about freedom and beauty and everyone both doing their own thing and connecting with each other, at least in theory. It was very much a leftish hippie kind of scene. This story, on the other hand, is vaguely fearful and conservative; it has at its center a small town that's utterly perfect in its isolation, that is best when nobody upsets the status quo, and the enemies are from the decadent and permissive world outside. It comes out of the weary cynicism of the late seventies, which would soon give way to the early eighties and "Morning in America." It's also completely un-British, and though the Beatles were undoubtedly influenced by American culture (even leaving out American jazz and rock), you can't read the lyrics of, say, "A Day in the Life" and not recognize it as something written by a Brit. The two just don't mix, and seeing the psychedelic Englishness of Lennon and McCartney and occasionally Harrison's lyrics sitting right alongside Edwards' Dick-and-Jane prose just highlights it.

Which is not to say that reading this book is an unpleasant experience. It's vaguely amusing, certainly friendly, and not any sort of challenge or slog. It is completely disposable and at the same time a unique cultural artifact, wonderful in its sheer wrongness. I can't recommend this book at all, but I bought it, I read it, and I think I'll keep it.

Grade: C-

In Theaters: Pan's Labyrinth

Okay, that's it, I've seen every movie from 2006 that I needed to see. It took PAN'S LABYRINTH a while to make it to Columbia, and I saw the very first preview showing at my local art house. It's good to get these things out of the way early. I have no idea how actual film critics manage to compile Top Ten lists before the end of the year.

PAN'S LABYRINTH is more dramatic and powerful than one would anticipate; it is a film that, while about children and their belief in magic and while rich in fairy tale imagery, cannot be said to be for children. It is graphic, and brutal, and tragic. It is also enchanting, and magical, and uplifting. It works on two main levels, and several sublevels. And a ground floor with a wonderfully decorated lobby. Maybe I'm getting overly cute with the metaphor there, but you gotta keep it fresh. The point is, it's a good movie.

The film starts in Spain, in 1944. The Spanish Civil War is effectively over, and General Franco's fascist army has sent the freedom fighters to the hills, literally. Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), a young girl, comes up to the northern mountains with her pregnant mother (Ariadna Gil) to meet her stepfather (Sergi López), a captain in Franco's army who wants to be present at the birth of his son. (He is certain the child will be male.) Outside the small mansion where they stay is an old ruined labyrinth. The first night, a fairy visits Ofelia and lures her to the labyrinth, where a large and fearsome faun (Doug Jones) confronts her. He says she is the reincarnation of a princess from the Underworld who long ago travelled to the world of mortals and died, and that the time for her to return to her people is at hand. Before the next full moon, she must perform three tasks, which will be revealed to her over time. Meanwhile, the housekeeper Mercedes (Maribel Verdú) and the local doctor (Álex Angulo) are both covertly helping the rebels, who are planning an assault on the house, and the captain, in addition to eagerly anticipating the birth of his robust male heir, is downright giddy at the prospect of a glorious final victory. This does not bode well for anyone. And then Ofelia's mother gets sick.

Much of the film is a slow buildup of tension; there is a subtle feeling that things are going to get worse, and it isn't really until the last thirty minutes that the storm breaks. Slowly, the fighting between the fascists and rebels intensifies, and slowly, Ofelia's quest becomes harder and more dangerous, and we begin to wonder whether it really is just a child's fantasy. The film is placed firmly in the genre of magic realism, and as such there is no clear demarcation between the real and the unreal, nor is it ultimately profitable to look for such (though you can pick up on a couple of hints.) Our sojourns into the fantastic are relatively brief, but shot in a way that blends in with the less-fantastic segments, while still being memorably imaginative (the second task featuring a truly horrific child-eating monster, also played by Jones; it's interesting how rarely children actually come to harm in adult horror films, whereas kids have a much easier time imagining monsters specifically coming after them.) For much of the time we are distracted by the real skullduggery and carnage of the last throes of Spain's Civil War, and the personal dramas of the people involved. This is a story with many wrinkles.

Visually the film is excellent- Del Toro has a gift for rich, earthy visuals, and the use of color is also effective in smoothing the transition from the magic to the mundane and back again. What we see of the magical realm makes us wish for more, but the "real" vistas are often equally impressive. The action is intense and highly visceral, and at times strangely exhilirating (perhaps capturing a bit of the Captain's mania for us.) Despite the slow pace, this is a gripping picture; there's always something to be worried about.

Then there is the ending, which may be the most powerful of any film this year. I do not feel like spoiling it, but there's not much to say otherwise. But it elevates the experience like nothing else could; it is poetic, shocking, and gentle, even hopeful. There are a number of ways of interpreting it, and the director's is on record for those who care to look. Whatever its precise meaning, it suits everything that went before perfectly. There is even something of a Christian allegory. Suffice it to say, the film is about finding the right path to walk in a corrupted and dying land. When that path is discovered, it is a tearjerking sight.

PAN'S LABYRINTH is an emotional experience above all else, but it has its intellectual side too. There is an ambiguity to the characters and their motives and behavior; the Captain, though evil, has a set of ideals that would be admirable if we did not see what they lead him to. The freedom fighters must make their own moral compromises at times; obviously they're taking a path of violence, but they remain noble in spite of it. Ofelia's mother has perhaps compromised by marrying the Captain to begin with, but as she explains, a woman grows tired of being alone.

And so the film works on levels religious, political, mythical, and personal, deftly intertwining these things while still feeling coherent. I confess I have only seen one other film by Del Toro, that being HELLBOY, which was based on the comic book; it was very well done in itself, but here we see Del Toro's own imagination fully at work, linking so many things together in a unique moral fable that says a lot without preaching it. This is one of the best films of the year.

Grade: A