Grandma's Boy

Harold Lloyd's GRANDMA'S BOY is laugh-out-loud funny. Not "amusing, but I'm mostly watching it for its historical significance" funny, but no-kidding, laugh-out-loud funny.

Here's the setup: Lloyd's the town coward. He's competing with the town bully for the hand of a local lass, but will he rise above his fears and become the man she needs? Ok, it's not that exciting a setup, but it's all in the execution.

Lloyd executes as well as anybody. His film moves right along from one gag to the next, and his inherent likeability keeps us engaged throughout. The supporting characters are interesting and memorable, and the whole picture sets just the right tone of comic danger and conflict. What a treat!

The 5 Worst Films of 2005

I haven't had time to see a movie lately, so here's one from the archives:

5. CRASH
I don't require that the films I see have people like those I know in real life. I don't require that they have characters who speak like people I know in real life. I do, however, require that, unless the movies feature balrogs or wookies or toupeed actors screaming "Khaaaaaann!", they have people that could, conceivably, walk the earth.

4. STAR WARS III
Y'know, I just can't get into the STAR WARS prequels. Then again, my father couldn't get into STAR WARS. Time marches on.

3. WAR OF THE WORLDS
Imagine spending two hours watching the end of the world. Now imagine spending two hours watching the end of the world through the eyes of a guy you wish would just die, already. WAR OF THE WORLDS gave us spectacle without character. Without character, of course, we may as well be watching paint dry.

2. FANTASTIC FOUR
I didn't care about Ben Grimm. I didn't care about Victor Von Doom. I didn't care about Mr. Fantastic, Inviso-Girl, or the Human Torch. This movie should have spent less time CGI-ing incredible action sequences and more time CGI-ing a decent script.

1. MINDHUNTERS
This movie is so extraordinarily, aggressively bad that I suspect its creators personally hate each and every single one of us. MINDHUNTERS defies the laws of physics, chemistry, psychology, and the State of Nebraska in its attempt to bring us fun, dumb entertainment. I'll say this much: they got the dumb part right. P.S. I love Iceland and its wonderful, warm, and forgiving people.

Godzilla vs. The Sea Monster

GODZILLA VS. THE SEA MONSTER (1966) is a bright, funky, and painless monster movie featuring a danceoff, Duane Eddy - style jangling guitars, and a Godzilla monster with a handy screen in his throat for improved vision. It's high camp in a psychedelic mode, missing only cameos from Gidget and the Big Kahuna.

The titular sea monster is a giant lobster, and it must be one of the least scary monsters in the Godzilla pantheon. I understand why they named the movie after it, however. It's scarier than the giant buzzard Godzilla faces in the runup to the big fight, a fearsome battler that's easily dispatched with just one blast of the Big Guy's breath. Nevertheless, what's the point of going with a giant lobster if you're not going to have Godzilla boil it up for the big beach party / clambake? Ah, well. Another opportunity lost.

Anyway, GODZILLA VS. THE SEA MONSTER is just plain fun. If you like monsters and you like camp, you'll like this one.

Stalag 17

STALAG 17 is one of those pictures that I knew I was supposed to see, that I knew I was eventually going to see, and that, frankly, I was really looking forward to seeing. How did it fare? Not too well. STALAG 17 is a movie that, for me, lands in the "just ok" file.

STALAG 17 can't figure out what kind of movie it wants to be. Is it a psychological thriller? A buddy movie? A comedy? A critique of capitalism? I don't know. Neither, I suspect, did Billy Wilder, the fellow behind this picture.

There's a spy among the POWs in a German camp, and suspicion falls on Sgt. Sefton (William Holden), a selfish, unfeeling dealer who seems to know all the angles. Sounds great, right? As a study of suspicion and fear, I think it could have been. Problem is, as soon as it grabs us, the movie shifts its attention to Animal and Sugar Lips (Robert Strauss and Harvey Lembeck), a comic-relief pair of buddies who appear to be direct cinematic forebears of Timon and Pumbaa. These caricatures are so broadly drawn that they yank me out of the movie every time they're onscreen, and they're onscreen a lot. Just when I'm ready to submit, however, and play along with their little jokes, I'm confronted with the amazing self-centeredness of Sgt. Sefton, a man who cares only about the bigger, better deal. He sobers me right up every time. This constant whipsawing between various tones kept me off balance. Consequently, I couldn't immerse myself in the universe of the film.

Holden's Sgt. Sefton is a selfish, nasty, cruel, totally unlikeable and totally unsympathetic son of a bitch. That we care about him anyway is a testament to the amazing performance on display here. As we see him go from self-imposed isolation to group-imposed isolation, we see just how much of his disdain is a front, hiding his desperate need for respect. When he finally makes his play, we cheer him on, even though we know he has a lot more in common with Ken Lay than with any of us. Holden's performance is 100% gold, I tell ya, and it redeems the whole picture.

Turtles Can Fly

In Bahman Ghobadi's TURTLES CAN FLY, the writer/director introduces us to a world that we generally know only in the abstract: the world of young Kurdish orphans in particular, and the world of refugees in general. We have much to learn in that world and, though it wasn't a pleasant journey, I'm grateful for my time there.

TURTLES CAN FLY centers on Satellite, a thirteen-year-old boy who's going to wind up a millionaire if he doesn't get himself killed first. Satellite is gifted with both technical and business sense, he's a natural and effective leader, and he's personally brave (He also happens to be full of shit half of the time, but that's part of his charm.). This boy basically runs his small Kurdish town on the Iraq/Turkey border, and he seems content in his alpha male status - that is, until a mysterious family enters the picture. This family could be from anywhere where war and brutality are long-term facts of life; there are no adults, just a teenaged boy whose arms appear to have been lost to a mine, a teenaged girl with the maturity of the profoundly traumatized, and the blind toddler who needs them to survive. The boy seems like an alpha male in his own right, the girl holds a profound attraction for Satellite, and the toddler, well, the toddler will touch them all in ways they couldn't possibly predict.

TURTLES CAN FLY is a harsh movie, but it isn't the harshness of cruelty or exploitation. It's the knowledge that life is incredibly hard for most people on the planet, and that the modern concept of childhood is the gentle province of the rich and secure. These kids have lived through things that would make the COME AND SEE's Florya put a gun in his mouth, and they adapt - as real kids do. Their realism and everyday courage makes it all the more touching when one of them cracks under the strain, because we've come to see them not as others separated by geography, ethnicity, or age, but as ourselves if our luck hadn't been so cosmically good.

To say I enjoyed this movie wouldn't be quite right. I'm glad I saw it, however, as it does what the best movies do. It took me to a time and place with which I'd been unfamiliar and made them real. It told me a story that perhaps I didn't want to hear, but that I needed to hear, and it did so with artistry and urgency. TURTLES CAN FLY is an excellent motion picture.

Brotherhood of the Wolf

Although I was all set to love BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF, the picture had me checking my watch well before the end of its excruciatingly long 144-minute running time.

BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is a monster/martial arts/drawing room movie in which a chevalier from the court of Louis XV (Complete with Mohawk sidekick! In stores soon!) comes to the provinces to hunt a mysterious creature that's killing off the peasants. It starts off well enough, with a fun Jaws tribute that's quickly followed by a good martial arts set piece with the solid, if somewhat vacant, Mark Dacascos.

Things go south, however, once the chevalier meets the noble gentry and gets down to the business of solving the mystery. Unfortunately, this happens pretty early in the first act. The primary love interest can't hold a candle to the secondary love interest, leaving the viewer seriously doubting the chevalier's judgment. The Big Villain is telegraphed so early that there's no surprise later on. The Creature, which works fine as long as it stays in the shadows, is so clearly a CGI creation that it yanked me right out of the movie; and The Evil Posse is completely ridiculous -- I pitied these people for being born 210 years too early for Thunderdome. They get a couple of big battles against the heroes and, though they give it their all, I couldn't help but think, "They're no Crazy 88s."

This movie needed a more ruthless editor. Slo-mo-ing a victim in mid-turn as she faces the Beast? Cut it. Some guy picking up a pitcher, pouring a beverage, quick-closeup on the beverage, then back to the guy? Cut it. Just tell me what he has to say. Long scene of the chevalier practicing his quick-draw, only to have him never call upon that skill later in the picture? Cut it. Long scenes designed to show off the mystic nature of the Indian dude? Cut it: let's get this picture moving!

As I said, I wanted to like BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF. Too bad - it could've been so much better.

Kill Bill, Vol. 1

I loved every frame of KILL BILL.

This movie has everything: fast swords, fast cars, and so many gallons of Kensington Gore that my audience laughed in awe, dismay, and bemusement at the sheer absurdity of the production.

Here's the story: Uma Thurman is a member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad (DiVAS), sort of a Fox Force Five gone horribly wrong. When, on her wedding day, the DiVAS strongly object to the union, Uma winds up single, angry, and out for revenge.

KILL BILL turns on three hinges: charisma, music, and fight choreography. I've never been an Uma Thurman fan before. I didn't really buy her in PULP FICTION, she helped (temporarily) kill the BATMAN franchise, and, frankly, I don't find her particularly attractive. But I'm an Uma Thurman fan now. Thurman owns every minute she's onscreen, and I never dreamed she had the athletic ability or the acting range she displays here. Lucy Liu was another revelation. Though she'd never sparked my interest before, her O-Ren Ishii is easily the coolest bad guy I've seen all year. Her character's unique management style makes DeNiro's Al Capone look like a cheap thug. Finally, there's Sonny Chiba in a role Mifune would've played had this movie been made 20 years back. Chiba, as the master swordsmith who gives Uma her blade, exudes a calm command that makes me want to see this guy in action.

Music has been a big part of all of Tarantino's movies, and this is no exception. KILL BILL's music is infectious, and by the time Tomoyasu Hotei's "Battle Without Honor or Humanity" came blaring out of the theater's speakers, I was literally bopping in my seat. I've only done that once before, and that was for the KILL BILL trailer. I'm buying a copy of this soundtrack.

In a movie like this, the fights are the big enchilada. KILL BILL doesn't let you down. The fights are brutal, visceral experiences that look like they hurt. A lot. Combatants get tired. When they're cut, they bleed. Done differently, these (really quite long) fights could be grueling experiences for the audience, but Tarantino goes so ridiculously over the top that, instead of flinching, we're dazzled. The film's biggest production number, the battle at the House of Blue Leaves, begins with a wink to MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL that's so gratuitous you can't help but shake your head and laugh. In Tarantino's world, a 125-lb woman with the right katana can slice through bone as if it were butter. By the time the battle ends with an homage to Thomas Harris, you know you've gone so far over the top that you're on a different planet.

Some people don't dig the Tarantino vibe. That's cool. If, however, you can accept that there's an airline that'll allow you to bring your katana into the cabin with you, that the police wouldn't think to post a lookout for the world's most identifiable vehicle, or that the yakuza thinks that guns are for sissies, then this is the movie for you.

Batman Begins

BATMAN BEGINS in a nutshell:

End of Act 1: Wow! This is as good as big summer blockbusters get!

End of Act 2: Boy, they sure did hire a lot of great actors for supporting roles. Why did the process fail in the casting of Murphy and Holmes, who can't sell their roles? They're a negative, but I'm still enjoying the movie.

End of Act 3: Ugh; two solid thirds hurt by a final third that's just loud and ridiculous. And this movie could have been great.

Bits I liked, overall: Bale, Hauer, Caine, Freeman, Wilkinson, Oldman.
Bits I disliked, overall: Murphy, Holmes. The editing of the fight scenes (Why hire the Equilibrium guy if you aren't going to show us what he can do?). The downgrading of Sgt. Gordon to a goofball.

Verdict: Eh, it was ok.

Hellboy Animated: Blood and Iron

HELLBOY ANIMATED: BLOOD AND IRON just isn't as much fun as SWORD OF STORMS.

B&I puts the Hellboy gang in a haunted house that's just been purchased by a Richard Branson -esque character. Before you know it, they're in the middle of a vampire and ghost story that's too gory for the kids and too familiar for the adults. Tack on a third act that recreates and truncates the Hellboy-Hecate storyline from the comics, but doesn't feel organic to the vampire/ghost story, and you have a wholly unsatisfying experience.

Color me underwhelmed.

An Inconvenient Truth

If you like watching people preach to the converted, you'll love AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH. Al Gore, at his pedantic, self-satisfied best, delivers his well-honed global warming presentation to an audience that hangs on his every word. Gore's presentation combines data, images, and even a Matt Groening video in its efforts to convince -well, by the looks of things, people who need no convincing. He uses straw man arguments to dismiss "critics" (You can practically see the quotation marks he puts around the word.), he milks the current administration for easy laughs (not that that's hard to do), and he generally plays to his base.

This is fine, particularly if you're his base, but then the movie can't help but get us into Gore's personal life, or at least whichever aspects of his personal life he chooses to exploit for the purposes of the film. There are plenty of shots of Apple board member Gore working with determination at his Apple computer, looking pensively into his Apple computer, and just generally promoting the Apple brand. There's Gore sitting down with "cutting edge," as he describes them, (fully vetted) representatives of the PRC, home of some of the world's most polluted cities, talking about their solutions. There's Gore navigating the backstage labyrinth, causing me to hope, for just a moment, that he'd stop and ask someone for directions. Oh, it was horrible.

If I had to boil AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH down to just one word, that word would be "Insufferable." I went into this movie feeling neutral about Gore and generally sympathetic toward his cause. I came out of it actively disliking the man and neutral toward his cause. This film's success is a mystery to me.

Shortbus

SHORTBUS plants its flag in the first ten minutes. This is a movie about sexuality, discovery, and human relationships, and it takes the sexuality part of that equation very seriously. In the first ten minutes, we meet the film's main characters as they participate in various sex acts, and the film is pretty much as graphic as can be. These people aren't simulating their sex acts: SHORTBUS isn't pornography, but the only difference between these parts of the movie and pornography is attitude. If you're ok with that, and you're willing to go along for the ride, you're in for an excellent picture. If not, well, I understand.

Sometimes, I'll write that I respect a film more than I like it. This usually happens with pictures whose reach exceeds their grasp: I appreciate the reach, even if things didn't quite work out. SHORTBUS is a film that I both respect and like: it innovates, it tries new things, it seeks to push the boundaries of its art form, and it succeeds. Additionally, it succeeds in crafting a number of compelling, interweaving storylines that catch us up in the lives of its people and, perhaps, teach us a little about ourselves.

SHORTBUS sold me early on. In that first ten minutes, two of the people we view are in the throes of energetic, creative, loving sex. When compared with the emptiness that infuses the other vignettes, these people are doing all right. As they bask in the afterglow, the woman (Sook-Yin Lee) says, "I feel sorry for people who don't have what we have." The woman, a sex therapist, goes on to confide the problem of one of her clients: the woman has been faking her orgasms. "I told her to keep on doing it," the therapist goes on. "It's a valid method of buying time for the relationship." The man's (Raphael Baker) expression goes from one of contentment to intense insecurity. "Is she talking about herself?" he seems to be thinking. It was a deft touch, and extraordinarily well played, and it's when I knew that SHORTBUS wasn't going to be some exploitative artistic wankery. It was going to be a movie about real emotions and real relationships, and it was going to approach them from a mature viewpoint.

Plenty of movies explore relationships, and some do it well. What sets SHORTBUS apart is its approach to sexuality. This movie takes a real chance in depicting actual sex in the way that it does. It's one thing to cut to an exterior shot of the train entering a tunnel; it's quite another to stay in the railway car; warts, excretions, and all. By taking a chance on the audience's toleration of unusual movie experiences, the film gets to explore actual human sexuality in interesting, layered, and thought-provoking ways. As is the case with any excellent movie, all the elements of SHORTBUS work together to give the audience greater understanding of the characters and advance the narrative. It's a gimmick, I suppose, but no more a gimmick than using stuffed animals and cellophane to explore the subconscious.

This is one of those movies you can't watch on the Metro and you can't watch until the kids are deeply asleep. If you can make the time, and if you're willing to overcome the discomfort the film may make you feel, SHORTBUS is well worth the effort.

The World's Fastest Indian

In THE WORLD'S FASTEST INDIAN, Anthony Hopkins plays an eccentric Kiwi engineering genius. He lives in a shack and tinkers with his motorcycle, and he eventually decides to head to the U.S., where he plans to take his bike the Bonneville Salt Flats for the speed trials. Once in the U.S., he meets a variety of colorful and harmless characters, makes some friends, sets some records, and generally has a delightful time.

And that's the problem with THE WORLD'S FASTEST INDIAN: it's basically a movie about a nice fellow having a delightful time. There's no real conflict (at least nothing that can't be cleared up in no time), no real character development, no real anything. Now, I like Anthony Hopkins, but not enough to justify a whole movie without a compelling dramatic throughline.

What a disappointment.

The Science of Sleep

I respected THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP more than I liked it. Michel Gondry's film takes real chances, both narratively and visually, and it dares to deviate from formulas. Unfortunately, it does so in service to a story that I didn't find compelling.

I thought Gael Garcia Bernal's character was insane and potentially dangerous. Consequently, I did not root for him to get together with Charlotte Gainsbourg's Stephanie. Rather, I rooted for Stephanie to get as far away as she could as quickly as she could. Such is not the path to audience immersion in what is, of a sort, a love story.

Nevertheless, I respected Gondry's willingness to shift in and out of conscious experience almost at whim, and his faith in the audience's ability to follow along. I enjoyed the animation and the sensibilities of the fantasy world. I bought the performances and agree with Dash in his assertion that Bernal is developing into a "performer of admirable range."

Respecting a film isn't the same as liking it, however. You can't always have it all.

Donnie Darko: The Director's Cut

The worst thing about DONNIE DARKO is the plot. Unfortunately, plotting is what the director's cut is all about.

In its original form, DONNIE DARKO is so impenetrable that it inspires its audiences to think of it almost as a tone poem while they try to piece together the clues scattered throughout its narrative. This worked for me, as I drew more from the film's evocation of adolescence than I did its confusing storyline.

The director's cut, on the other hand, adds a few scenes and some intertitles that take this strange meditation on puberty and turns it into a rather humdrum science fiction piece about time travel. The intertitles have an added, unpleasant effect: by demonstrating that Donnie is not psychotic, they eliminate the sole source of the original version's dramatic tension.

Directors commonly moan when studio "suits" come in and demand changes to their vision. In this case, the suits were right.

The Call of Cthulhu

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wagn'nagl fhtagn. --HP Lovecraft

A couple of years ago, the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society scraped together $50,000 and set out to film THE CALL OF CTHULHU, an inherently unfilmable story and a central tale in Lovecraft's Cthulu mythos. The movie, made to look like a poorly preserved print of a 1920s silent picture, is wildly, wonderfully, weirdly successful. I loved, loved, loved THE CALL OF CTHULHU.

Here's the setup: a lunatic hands a bundle of papers to his psychiatrist, pleading with the doctor to burn these files on Cthulu. Why is this patient insane? What is Cthulu? Strap yourselves in for a great forty minutes of finding out, gang, because THE CALL OF CTHULHU is imaginative, audacious, and scary fun.

The movie overcomes its budgetary limitations by embracing them. Can't afford to fly the crew out to an island to shoot a key scene? Build a cardboard island that looks like something out of the THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI. Can't afford a CGI monster? Nothing's scarier than papier mache and stop-motion, if executed with confidence. Need a ship for your climax at sea? Hey, a cheap model and some painted sheets will do just fine - it is black and white, after all, and sometimes graininess can be an asset.

Speaking of graininess, the movie is created in something called mythoscope. It's a just-plain-great idea, and it makes the picture really look like something that's been sitting in a warehouse for 80 years. There are hairs in projection frame, spotting and strobing, and the kind of inconsistencies in print quality that are familiar to any silent film aficionado. The process gives the whole thing a wonderful sense of antiquity and lends immediacy to the proceedings onscreen.

$50,000, a warehouse, and audacity. Apparently, that's all it takes to make a terrific picture these days. Good for the folks at HPLHS!

The Innocents

THE INNOCENTS rises or falls on Deborah Kerr's performance. Her role requires earnestness, thoughtfulness, conviction, courage, and perhaps a touch of madness. If she can pull it off, the movie is a winner. Unfortunately, she can't.

Kerr harrumphs, goggles, and screams her way through the picture. She so distanced me from the action that my greatest fear was that she'd tire of chewing the scenery, chew her way through my screen, and go for my throat. The movie looks great; its children are perfect; it sounds wonderful; and it has a snappy script. If only they'd hired a better actress, they could've had a classic on their hands.

Wilde

WILDE is a well done movie, but it's painful to watch.

Have you ever had a friend who fell in love with the worst possible person in the world? Have you seen that friend's life spiral downward and downward, while all you can do is sit on the sidelines and lament? WILDE is like that. The movie follows Oscar Wilde from a time shortly before he realizes his homosexuality through the apogee of his fame and into his precipitous decline. It's a sad, desperate story, made all the more so because the Oscar Wilde we see here is so damn likeable, in spite of his neglect for his family and his poor choice in lovers.
. . .
A question: I have a co-worker who wrote her thesis on Oscar Wilde. Is this movie accurate enough for me to engage her in semi-informed manner on her area of interest?
. . .
Oscar Wilde note #1: Back when I was substitute teaching in a college English Department, I covered a freshman class whose assignment had been _The Importance of Being Earnest_. When I asked them what they thought of the play, I got all these answers about its commentary on the social and political issues of its day. My response: "Yeah ... but did you think it was funny?" The students were dumbfounded.

Oscar Wilde note #2: I read "The Selfish Giant," which is referenced in the film, to my boy a couple of months ago. When I finished, he asked me why I was crying. "It's just so beautiful," I replied. What a perfect little story.

Hellboy Animated: Sword of Storms

HELLBOY ANIMATED: SWORD OF STORMS is much better than I thought it would be. I only rented the thing out of loyalty to the characters, and I expected a cheap, direct-to-DVD knockoff. What a pleasant surprise to find an involving story, solid animation, excellent voice acting, and an all-around great experience.

If you're already a Hellboy fan, read no further and be assured that you'll enjoy a film that hews to the style of the comics. If you aren't familiar with the character, here's a bit of background. In the waning days of WWII, Hitler's occult advisor tries the last-ditch tactic of summonig a demon from Hell to aid in the fight. When American forces break through at the culmination of the ceremony, they find cutest li'l baby demon you ever did see. They name him Hellboy, raise him to be a good guy, and put him to work in the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense, or BPRD (Motto: Things really do go bump in the night. We're the ones who bump back.). Hellboy's a gruff manchild, still living in the equivalent of his parents' basement, and his solution to most problems involves significant amounts of blunt force trauma. He's a great character. He's nearly indestructible, so he can face the most horrific of creatures with little more than a deadpan, "Oh, crap." He carries his massive upper torso and Fist of Clobberin' around on spindly little goat legs and delicate hooves, making him simultaneously imposing and amusing. And he hangs out with a gill man and a firestarter. What's not to like?

In HASS, the BPRD sends Hellboy to Japan to investigate the theft of a legendary sword. Before he knows it, the demon gets sucked into the Japanese equivalent of Faerie, where he must undertake a quest that gives him and us, the audience, a tour through some of the scarier tales of Japanese folklore. As Hellboy uses the amazing power of blunt force trauma to survive in this world, his pals in the BPRD must deal with the real-world repercussions of his actions and figure a way to get him back.

It's a solid setup, and one that goes right for a variety of reasons. First, HASS, as do the comics, boasts a love for folklore and an ability to introduce the audience to new legends with a light and entertaining touch. Second, the animation style resembles Hellboy creator Mike Mignola's comics, creating a continuity with the printed page and inviting us into the greater world of the character. Third, the voice acting (largely by the cast of the not-as-good live action HELLBOY movie) sells the picture. Genre stalwart Ron Perlman voices Hellboy as I always imagined the character; Selma Blair does fine, if necessarily whiny, work as Liz the firestarter; and Doug Jones gives Abe Sapien, the gill man, a different and successful spin than did live-action voice actor David Hyde Pierce.

HASS is fun. It's funny, scary, and thoroughly entertaining, and it provides a wonderful introduction to the world of Japanese folklore. What more could you want?

Stranger Than Fiction

STRANGER THAN FICTION is like a cream puff. It looks like there's some food there, but once you sink your teeth in, you find little to chew on.

The movie begins promisingly. Will Ferrell begins his day to the charming narration of Emma Thompson's voice and with attractive computer graphics surrounding him and illustrating his mind and world. The hook comes early, as Ferrell hears the narrator's voice and, appropriately, freaks out.

The rest of the movie concerns Ferrell's growing realization that he's a character in a story and his reactions to that realization. STRANGER THAN FICTION handles the concept as well as did Neil Gaiman's 1602 and better than Stephen King's last "Gunslinger" novel, helping us believe in a world in which a character can both believe he is in a story and interact with his creator in a meaningful way. It's by turns comic and tragic, and it achieves a compelling sense of sadness and grace. STRANGER THAN FICTION captured my imagination and touched my heart. While watching it, I loved it.

But you know how some movies get better with time? This is not one of them. STRANGER THAN FICTION's resolution is unsatisfying and its lessons trite. Its love story feels unnatural and its people heightened to unreality. It just plain breaks down upon further analysis.

It's too bad, really. That was one delicious-looking cream puff.

Mad Monster Party

MAD MONSTER PARTY (1967) is a stop-motion picture picture with a vaudevillian's philosophy: if you don't like the current joke, don't worry - there's another coming right on its heels.

Here's the setup: Dr. Frankenstein is having all the best monsters (Dracula, the Wolf Man, Phyllis Diller) over to the castle for a bash. Like any good party, this one is a hotbed of machiavellian maneuvering, cynical doublecrossing, and animated-skeleton rock bands ripping off the Beatles.

It's cute, it's inventive, & my kid loves it as much as I did when I was five. What more could you ask for?