Ghidorah: The Three-Headed Monster

GHIDORAH: THE THREE-HEADED MONSTER is just plain terrific.  It has four – count ‘em, four! – classic monsters in Godzilla, Mothra, Rodan, and the titular Ghidorah.  It has Martian princesses, secret service agents, even cute kids.  And it has … wait for it … Takashi Shimura in a supporting role as a brave scientist who comes through in the clutch.

Toss in solid puppet and costume work, a funky soundtrack, and even kaiju détente, and you have the makings of a great film for a rainy Saturday afternoon.

No, I’m not going to outline the plot.  It’s a mid-‘60’s Godzilla movie, but it’s one of the good ones.  That’s all you need to know: either you’re down with it or you aren’t.  In the absence of critical reflection or even a by-the-numbers review, I’ll instead offer this little vignette, direct from the couch in my basement.

INT.  ELLERMANN BASEMENT – AFTERNOON

A heavy rainstorm thrums outside.  ALEX (the father) and IAN (the son) sit on the couch watching a Godzilla movie.  ALEX has the remote in his hand.

ALEX (pausing the remote)

See that man, Ian?  That’s Takashi Shimura.  He’s one of the greatest actors the human race has ever produced, and he’s been in some of the greatest films ever made.  That, son, is what excellence looks like.

                                    IAN

Was he in “Kung Fu Panda?”

                                    ALEX

No.

                                    IAN

Was he in “Rocky?”

                                    ALEX

No.

                                    IAN

What was he in, then?

                                    ALEX

He was “Ikiru,” “Yojimbo,” “The Seven Samurai,” “Stray Dog,” and even the original “Gojira.”

                                    IAN

“Gojira” was too scary.  I like the later Godzilla movies, where the monster looks more fake and they’re kind of silly.

                                    ALEX

He was in “Mothra,” too.

                                    IAN

Oh, cool!  “Mothra” was awesome!

                                    ALEX

There you go.

Beauty in Trouble

BEAUTY IN TROUBLE has three acts, a heroine, no antagonist, and a weak resolution. It takes us to interesting places in the company of decent people, and it certainly rates as a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours. But there’s nothing propulsive about it. There’s no reason why we absolutely must see the next scene, or the one after that.

The film, a Czech production about a woman with two kids, a husband in jail, limited prospects, and maybe one last chance to provide a good life for her family, suffers from that lack of an antagonist. Sure, there are some jerks (and one man (who could’ve played Gollum without CGI) who would have made an estimable villain in a more formulaic picture), but the trouble in which our beauty finds herself seems more a general life trouble than actual peril. Granted, life troubles are serious and challenging. But hey, I’ve got life troubles of my own. Battle a giant spider or something.

See, Marcela’s a decent woman. She works in a travel agency. Her husband’s an auto mechanic. Or at least he was, until a flood wiped out the garage and he’s turned his place into a chop shop to make ends meet. Once he’s caught and imprisoned, however, Marcela’s got to figure out how she’s going to feed her kids. She’s moved everyone into Mom’s apartment, she’s barely getting by, and her stepfather’s losing patience. And he may be a lecher. But then a wealthy, handsome stranger shows up. He owns a Tuscan vineyard (but he doesn’t seem to ever actually work at it – it must be one of those ornamental vineyards). He’s nice to the kids. He takes pity on her and takes her in. Problem is, she still loves her husband.

And, y’know, that’s it. She makes decisions: some good, some bad. Life circumstances change. Some things get better and some worse. But nothing happens that makes this stuff any more interesting than the gossip I hear about friends and relatives all the time. Life is hard. Relationships are tough. It sucks that we often don’t have the money we need or want. Fine, fine, and (as I said) these are decent people and the scenery’s nice and I rocked along pleasantly for two hours. But there’s no magic of cinema here. There's no particularly compelling narrative. There’s no photography to make me say “Wow,” and simply filming Tuscany is cheating. I was joking about battling giant spiders, but c’mon: surprise and delight me, for Pete’s sake. Or at least, blow up a car.

So, BEAUTY IN TROUBLE. It’s at least as interesting as keeping up with your Facebook feed. But I’d have liked a little more.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

My beautiful and brilliant wife was delighted when I volunteered to take the boys to DIARY OF A WIMPY KID.  She’d read the books along with our oldest son and liked them well enough, but she just couldn’t see how anyone could make a good movie out of the material.

Win and win.  Not only did I score points with my bride of nearly eighteen years, but I laughed all through the movie.  DIARY OF A WIMPY KID hits all the right notes, finds comedy in situations that would be sad or uncomfortable in less capable hands, and turns out to be a good time at the movies for all concerned.

Here’s the deal:  Greg Heffley is about to begin his first year of middle school.  If there’s one thing he knows about middle school, it’s that the experience is a Darwinian struggle for social survival.  Everything revolves around one’s standing on the social ladder, and his job is to do whatever’s going to move him up and avoid whatever’s going to move him down.  Never mind everyone telling him to be himself and find his own way: he’s going to be the top dog, even if he has to overcome the handicap of constantly being surrounded by wimps, nerds, and losers.  And, of course, being a wimpy kid himself.  With a diary.  Even though he expressly told his mom that needed a journal.

The film chronicles his year, and it does so with just the right touch.  The mean older brother (Devon Bostick) seems more goofy than cruel.  The out – of – touch parents (Steve Zahn and Rachael Harris) are out of touch in a way that parents will find amusing.  The wimpy, nerdy, loser friends (Karan Brar, Robert Capron, Grayson Russell) are misfits, but they’re depicted so kindly that we smile in comic sympathy rather than writhe in discomfort.  Greg Heffley (Zachart Gordon) himself – insecure, calculating, meaning well but oh so childish, is both our hero and our audience surrogate.  We know who he is and why he makes his mistakes, and he simultaneously wants to make us laugh, give him a hug, and send him to his room.  And then there’s Angie, wise beyond her years and the only person in school who really, truly Gets It.  Chloe Moretz (who played Hit Girl in KICK-ASS and here steals yet another film) is, assuming she doesn’t fall prey to the joys of chemistry, going to be a huge, huge star.

So I’m a big fan of DIARY OF A WIMPY KID.  It helped me score points with my wife, enjoy some time with my kids, and gave me something to chuckle over even days later.  Much to my very pleasant surprise, this film is a winner.