BLOW-OUT!

Okay, it wasn't going to be a great week to begin with, what with it being the last week of my contract at the "1's n '0's Ranch," and me driving off the cliff without a net on the other side...not that I hadn't been trying. A lot of work I'd been promised didn't materialize, and...really, I've been looking for something full-time to pay the bills.

So, I was about to leave that one job I've had for a year (Blow-Out #1) --that was looming up on me, then K. took off for a couple of days. The dog had been having gastric problems (Blow-Out *ahem* #2) which was solved by a little more strict diet (no popcorn for the doggy!) but did put a little strain in the relationship with the dog-sitter.

So, it was my penultimate day at the Ranch. I left a little later than normal to run an errand in Burien--getting the dog's regular food, in both senses of the word--and headed for home. As I was crossing the First Avenue Bridge, a car pulled up alongside, the window rolled down and a kid pointed at my driverside-rear tire and made a little gesture with thumb and forefinger that my tire had about an inch of air in it (Blow-Out #3).

Great! Now, a prudent person would have pulled over and checked the situation out before proceeding any further.

A prudent person would have. Me, I kept driving. I had to check my mail, and there was all sorts of other very important things to do...miles to go before I slept, that sort of thing. So, I checked my mail...nothing (Natch'), so I drove down a back alley to fill my failing tire with air. I did this two other times before hitting the ferry (at 75 cents a pop), and rolodexed through my mind what I had to do: A) Survive the ferry-ride; B) drive off the ferry; C) fill the tire with air again or D) change it; E) Pick up Smokey; F) Drive home. I knew that in order to accomplish E and F, I had to either C or D, so having A'd, I B'd and proceeded to the nearest convenience store/gas station to C or D. By the time I got there, I saw that the tire was failing faster than before, so if I was going to get my dog and get home, I'd have to change the tire immediately. But when I pulled out my spare, I noticed...no jack! I'd given mine to K for her car and never replaced it. However, the kind register-jockey at the convenience store allowed me to borrow the one in her van (damned charitable, I thought) and I started the process of jacking up the car and taking off the lug-nuts, which was surprisingly easy. The jack slipped a couple times, as it was engineered for my car, but I recieved from help from a passing mechanic and his trusty/rusty ratchet set. I received no help from a sheriif's deputy who was making sure I wasn't siphoning gas, and then promptly split.

With spare on, I got Smokey and the two of us went home. I didn't even bother with dinner. I just fell into bed and went right to sleep.

On the morning of my last day, I dropped Smokey at the sitter's and went to Les Schwab on the Island, and they suggested I buy four tires, my set looking very bald. No, no, I said. Let's just get two and I'll be back in a month for the other two. I was being cheaping and promised myself I'd buy them further down the road, as it were.

I got to the Ranch just in time to hit the office before my "Last Lunch" and office-roomie Simon begged a ride to the restaurant--an Indian place with a great lunch buffet. We approached my car, and I said to him, "Does it look like my passenger-front tire is low?" "Yeah," he said, "By half. It's going to be flat by the time we get back from lunch." We were late already, so I took that chance.

Lunch was great, and, right as rain (and it was raining a lot at that time), the tire was completely flat (Blow-Out #4) by the time I got back to check. There was nothing to do, but drive the car...with the flat (after all, it was only flat on one side!)...to the nearest gas station, fill it with air and proceed to the nearest Schwab. 40 minutes later, I had two more brand new tires to go along with the others. a lighter wallet, but a nice Les Schwab warranty in my glove compartment. I was able to attend meetings, wrap things up and get out of there at a reasonable hour.

As far as last days go, it wasn't the worst, but my advice is: If you're going to have a blow-out, you might as well do it all in one shot. Economical, that way.

And when driving away, best to do it safely...on four good tires.

And that's where the rubber meets the road.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marshall Rogers passed away. I always thought he drew the best version of Batman 'way back in the 70's with the series of stories written by Steve Englehart for Detective Comics. That story arc combined the best of Batman's Rogues Gallery, a return of one of his earliest villains, a ghost story, a love story and one of the best characterizations of The Joker ever written.

But Rogers' art style grabbed me. It was dynamic and elegant. Angular in its framing and very clean in line. Plus, he drew the best capes in the business. Rogers was very respectful of the look of the Golden Age comics--he had to be, as so much of Englehart's story was an homage to that era of story-telling--and retained the theatricality and poise that the artists brought to them. Besides those issues of Detective he also drew G.I. Joe, Dr. Strange, The Silver Surfer, Mr. Miracle. He did a great adaptation of Harlan Ellison's "The Demon with the Glass Hand" for DC's short-lived science fiction line. He did the first run of "Batman" daily strips for the newspapers when "Batman" came back in fashion after the first Tim Burton movie.

He was 57. Seems awfully young.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Song in me Head: "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles

Whistling: The "Sean Sean Sean" theme from "Duck, You Sucker" (Ennio Morricone)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Movie Review - "300"

"This won't be over quickly. You will not enjoy this"

Two characters say this in "300," but it might as well have been me when I walked into the theater. I'm not a fan of Frank Miller, the comic-book artist-turned-writer who breathed new life into Marvel's "Daredevil" and DC's "Batman." I enjoyed his work on those, but around the time of his "Sin City" output, I began to think of his work as campily overblown and corrupt. When he ran out of ideas, he'd have one of his characters cut off a limb and do something that defied the laws of physics and that would serve as plot advancement. So, upon seeing the extremely faithful adaptation of "Sin City" years ago, I just hung my head and thought that was the end of Miller doing anything good ever again. His hack-work was too successful. A second Batman "Dark Knight" series was a sporadically illustrated mess, and his current work on an "All-Star" version of the character has been embarrassing. His scripts for the "Robocop" series were terrible. His co-directorial debut with "Sin City" was a frame by frame recreation of his original illustrations, and in those, there was power, no matter how thick-headed the concept or eye-rolling the dialogue that accompanied them. It did point out, however, why films are one thing and graphic story-telling is another. Comics have the luxury of leaping from high-point to high-point. They suspend time to make way for mouthfuls of dialogue. They focus the eye and mind. Film does this, too, but at 24 frames a second, rather than the one comics afford. A film has to crash through that white border separating panels, and that's the difference between art and artifice.

Now, Miller's "300" has hit the screen, and unlike "Sin City," director Zack Snyder has taken the concept, the tone, and Miller's design sense but gone his own way with the direction. Key frames of Miller's book are reproduced, but for the most part Snyder has found a way of taking Miller's trope and making it move and breathing life into it. And it's Snyder's efforts to connect the dots and make Miller's flat-panels three dimensional that lets "300" rise above most comic book adapatations. It's still overblown. Some of the dialogue is not only bad, it's bad for today, much less ancient Greece (When King Leonidas meets his opposing King, the bling-encrusted Xerxes--who's not nearly as gay as Miller made him in the book--he takes a look at the Persian's elaborate transportation and says "Let me guess. You must be Xerxes"--a line more weisenheimer than kingly. But it beats the fade-out line on the eve of the final battle: "Unless I miss my guess, we're in for one wild night!" Oy. So bad it stings!), it's a bit too enamored by the CGI-technology to create blood-spurts, but damn, if it doesn't move and hold your interest! There's one shot--of King Leonidas providing point (literally) to an attack done in one long take, and as he dispatches opponent after opponent, at each impact the film is speed-ramped to a crawl, which is as ingenious a way of recreating the framing ability of comics in a moving picture as has been devised. Sort of like Peckinpah's slo-mo cut-aways but self-contained in a single shot.

So, what did I think of it? I enjoyed it! I may not like Miller's current writing, but one can't fault his illustrative sense, and Snyder brings it to glorious life. It may be gratuitous "homo-erotic war pornography," but it's sure well-constructed homo-erotic war pornography. It makes one anticipate Snyder's promised version of Alan Moore's "Watchmen," although one quails at the suggestion (and it's only been suggested) of Tom Cruise at Ozymandius. Not even a Spartan could face that!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"300" is a rip-snorting, shield-pounding, popcorn-throwing, CGI-scenery-chewing matinee.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Song in me Head: "Endless Love" for the LuvvaGawd--but only because Adam Sandler and Don Cheadle sang it to each other on "Letterman." Damn them. Damn them to HELL!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
After further plummeting for most of last week, the cost of a barrel of oil jumped from $56.00 to nearly $63.00 today. Quite the jump. But then the oil companies needed something dramatic to boost your gallon of regular to over $3.00.

We Now Return...

To Our Regular Programming...Already in Progress.

..'nd that's what I thought of "300!"







------------------------------------------------------------------------
Upcoming in the week...I'm SOOOOO Tired, the real review, and The Quest for a REAL job.

Black Out

In observance of http://shutdownday.org/ this computer is now off.

Goodbye to the Ranch

Ridin' out to the Last Sunset, I'm leaving the "1's n' 0's Ranch" and off to the barren deserts of Freelance-ship. Hopefully there'll be an oasis before too long. Goodbye to Simon, the Other Jim, Matt, Jac, Steve H, JJ and Mike (and Lou and Loren) for making my stay so enjoyable. A nicer bunch of compadres you couldn't meet. Hasta la Vista.

The "Now I've Seen Everything" Dept. - George Lucas

In which the author, having seen everything there is to see on the subject makes a capsule* summary of each, looking for trends and contributing what he calls an Ouvre-view.**

Subject: The Films of George Lucas

Electronic Labyrinth: THX-1138: 4EB - A virtually silent film (save two words) with a complicated sound overlay, "EE:THX" is a security tape summary of one man's attempt to escape an anti-septic, electronically-monitored society of the future. Performances are uniformly amateurish--it was, after all, Lucas' final student project at USC and everything was volunteer-level. But the ideas are good, and the cumulative effect of watching the story being told visually and aurally is sophisticated and pretty stunning. The one time the sound-track goes into sync actually comes off as pretentious, such is the cumulative effect of the film.

THX-1138 - Lucas' expansion of his student film was the first production of Coppola's American Zoetrope Studios - and nearly sank it. Lucas lucked out being able to use the still-under-construction BART system and tunnels. Good cast headed (baldly) by Robert Duvall and Donald Pleasance. The reverent score by Lalo Schifrin and sound-design/screenplay by Walter Murch all help the look and feel of the production. Lucas' depressive eye for angles and ideas on societal strictures are all an improvement, and if one is bored by the extended sociological tack of the film, they are paid off with an adrenaline-pumping chase, with a suitably triumphant finale. Lucas' "Director's Cut" restores "Buck Rogers" serial footage which over-states the theme of the movie, and adds CGI-enhanced scenes for bigger scale and "coolness" factor, but ultimately they're unnecessary.



American Graffiti - "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (as produced by AIP) with its mythical quests, sage mentors and feats of derrring-do played out on a small-town high school's last night of Summer. Cast with future superstars, it is Lucas' best film, reaching deeply into his own psyche to connect with his audience, and creating a sweet ode to the 50's while bidding them good-bye forever. Smart, funny, sweet and sad, this film, made on a shoe-string, is Lucas' warmest, least pretentious movie. It created a nostalgia craze that never really went away, and launched the careers of a generation of actors. For an extended look at it, you can go here.


Star Wars - Making a movie he "wanted to see," Lucas cribbed from the movies, myth and classic sci-fi to make a poly-glot "Flash Gordon" serial with better technology and a smart-ass attitude, while also bowing deeply to the tradition of square-jawed, comely-maiden school of B-movie-making. Justifiably spawning an empire of its own, Lucas' original, despite his protestations and tinkerings, still contains more inventive ideas and directorial brio than any of its imitators and sequels. The first three minutes alone are examples of the most bravura film-making (and statement of intentions) than anything seen in the previous 16 years. You'd have to go back to Lean to find anything so exultant in presenting its ideas. And its audience responded in kind. The memory of seeing it the second day of its ultimately two-year run at the UA Cinema 150 (R.I.P.) remains to this day.


Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Episode II: Attack of the Clones
Episode III: Revenge of the Sith - After Lucas' traumatic experiences making "Star Wars" - only to see it become the most successful film ever made - Lucas took a desk-job and only emerged after investing the millions of dollars in "Star Wars" earnings to perfect the techniques of CGI-centered, high-definition video (which would prove to be the wave of the future for film-makers) to make his epic "Star Wars" prequel trilogy. But despite the technological advances from frame 00:00;01 to the last, all the tech services a story that constantly skirts the sophisticated and plays to the cheap seats.

Somewhere along the way, Lucas lost sight of his audience; instead of aiming for the 25-year old geeks like himself, as he originally did, he chose to aim for the kids (his kids, no doubt) to tell the story of Anakin Skywalker's corruption to become the technoid villain Darth Vader (along with the destruction of the democratic and seemingly benign Galactic Republic). A story that dark and depressing he aimed at kids? Kids?

There is a lot to like about the prequels - its sumptuous art design, the abandonment of some of the more black-an-white concepts (the Republic is subverted from within to become the Evil Empire rather than, say, invasion), Lucas' brief flirtation with the "Messiah as Asshole" storyline, the full-scale commitment to the "good-girl/bad-boy" story - but ultimately one has to ask: "With all the time and money invested in the movies, shouldn't they have been better?" Lucas had the unique ability to do everything he wanted, and a tough, dark storyline that could have said so much more and been worth much more. But then, would it have been B-movie-based "Star Wars?" Would that have been even less a crowd-pleaser? As they were, they were grudgingly watched, grumblingly accepted and Lucas' reputation as a film-maker forever tarnished.

Lucas, in interviews around the time of "Sith," was well-aware of the ironies: He started as a "rebel" film-maker battling the big bad Studio System and, in so doing, managed to create his own Lucasfilm Empire with more power and autonomy than any Studio in Hollywood. He became more of a Studio than they were. And I think he is equally aware that fate is its own tragedy. His fortunes are tied forever with "Star Wars"...and he never managed to completely leave his home-town of Modesto.
The young Lucas would hold the older in complete disdain. But that's what happens when one's goals are for power above all else. In completing his "Star Wars" prequels, he told a story that paralleled his own.

*...with any luck.

**Ouvre: 1.the works of a writer, painter, or the like, taken as a whole.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
NYMEX Oil prices ended yesterday at $56.59 down half a buck. How're your gas prices?

To-Do List for St. Paddy's Day (Amended)

1. Get up late because you're avoiding the day.
2. Mow lawn
3. Weed-whack
4. Wash windows for improved whale-watching.
5. Put hand through left kitchen-window while drying window with newspaper.
6. Put plastic over big hole in window
7. Call "Bob the Window Guy" (yes, that's his name) to fix the window some time this week.
8. Walk off the self-loathing and recriminations by taking a stroll on the beach.
9. Observe the feasting seals in the Passage.
10. Go home. Have a beer (Erin Go Bragh)
11. Go to bed early and stop the wanton destruction.

1-4 were planned. 5-11 sort of just happened.

One must be flexible in one's schedule.

Gift from the Sea

It's been a tough week: battling sickness (more on that later), 4 commutes to the Ranch, the pending cessation of that work and the lack of it on the other side, nice days I couldn't enjoy, a dreary day off. Disappointments. No appointments. It's been a struggle on the Island this winter, and has soured us on staying long. We know we'll enjoy the Spring and Summer out here, but the Winter...brother, no wonder so many people leave the Island in low season!

But today, there's a change. Oh, the weather is dismal--K headed for the gym to beat the blues and get more prepared for her Island Long Walk--but a miracle happened.

Thar' be whales here.

There'd been fishing boats out, more than normal, this weekend. The Chinook Salmon are running and so are the Blackmouth salmon. And the shell-fish season is about to end, so there's been plenty of activity out on the Passage. But around 1400 hours everybody went home, and I was moping, looking out the front window, when a grey tail popped out of the water, about 30 feet from shore, then submerged. A couple moments later a plume of water shot out and a long grey back skimmed the surface. Sorry, no pictures. I grabbed my binoculars (thank you, Evan!) for a closer look. There were two. One had a black-white mottled fin (though K swears its a snout). They were churning up the crill and feasting. No one was about, except some sea-birds and the whales lazily dawdled and ate. An unhurried meal.

I'd seen a whale out here before (one...) in the middle of the Passage and it was being dogged...hounded, more accurately...by a boat illegally in its wake and getting photos (you could see the flash, even in the bright sunshine). Yes, its exciting, but I've always felt bad for the whales and the wildly stupid excitement they produce among us bipeds when they make their rare appearances. It's that way with the dolphins in Hawaii, too. (Oh, and bon voyage Walaka and Otis. Mahalo!) Last trip we spotted the dolphins skirting the west coast of the Big Island on their morning feed. Within ten minutes, breakfast was spoiled by a tourist boat full of howlies in wet-suits who'd paid to "swim with the dolphins." Quite the spectacle. The dolphins cooperated for awhile, then said (in that clicking "Flipper" voice of theirs) "They're scaring the meal!! We're out a-here" and high-tailed it for calmer waters.

Today, these whales went mercifully unmolested. They lingered, bobbed close to the beach and headed out. One boat passed but didn't notice them. Three hours later they returned, and K got a chance to see them. It made the day. It made the Island. We have no idea why these two came so early, but it's been that kind of not-very-normal Winter, and we're grateful for the visit. They brought us a lot of joy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
As I said, I've been fighting whatever it was K had for two weeks, and actually lost my voice Tuesday night. That was scary. But downing some of K's tea-brews and a fat eight hour sleep and I had most of it back for Wednesday (I needed it!)

K took off for a Semiahmoo spa day, and I did what I usually do: stay up late, go to bed for too short a time (I actually slept on the couch with the pets) and get up too early. But morning found me with half a voice--the lower half and only the lower half. All day at the ranch, I was saying things like "In a world...beyond time...one man must make a choice..." in my best Don Lafontaine/Hal Douglas movie trailer tone. I enjoyed it, and wished I could keep it. But today a concoction of chamomile and mint teas (with maple syrup as a thickening agent) returned my mid/upper ranges to me.

There went my "trailer-voice" career.

The People Have Spoken...I Guess

Okay, now let me get this straight. An election was held in Seattle to see which of two options folks would prefer to replace an aging, increasingly unstable highway that 110,000 people use every day...and the answer was "No?" To both?
It's been said that in a democracy the people get the government they deserve. I've been, first, annoyed and then, incensed at the government's inability to lead on what is a critical issue of transporatation, commerce and public safety (It's one of the reasons we chose to move out of King County). But the vote on Tuesday only reflects that the public can't lead on the issue, either. It's also left the pol's to natter on about what that vote means (if anything).

55% of the city voted "No" on both options. Granted, the city isn't made up of engineers, but I'd love to see how a "surface street option" is going to get cars, trucks and multi-use vehicles and mass-transit from a sea-level street to the Battery Street Tunnel (which is, what, 50-60ft. above sea-level? The Internet has no such information available) to re-connect 99. Without some sort of elevated structure.

Fish-ladders, perhaps? Freight Elevators? Moto-cross-grading?
------------------------------------------------------------

Speaking of having an edifice-complex, did ya see where the AIA started polling people (and you know how painful that can be...) and they asked them "What's your favorite example of American Architecture? Here are the results. Shoot, my measley l'il favorite building only made it to 72. Recount!!
-------------------------------------------------------

I love Randy Newman *(Bolton introduced him to me 'way back in '74). I love his sly, sarcastic writing. I love his schlubby-hubby voice. I love the fact that he's so misunderstood by folks who don't read lyrics and can't be bothered with a word they don't understand...and I love that he doesn't cow to the standard equation "songwriter" + "songwriter's feelings" = song. There's a lot of untrustworthy narrators in Newman's writing. I like that a lot. I love the fact that he makes people uncomfortable.

So, I can forgive him when he plays it safe for Disney, and writes odes to birdies and trees and lovey-dovey stuff (at least, he produces them with a bit of an edge). I can tolerate "You Got a Friend in Me" and "I Love to See You Smile" and "When You're a Fool in Love" as long as he can write the songs I've been compiling for a week-long look at his lyrics. He deserves to make money, too. He can sell-out every so often. And those pin-heads from "Family Guy" can make fun of his voice, and the simplicity of his lyrics, because, hey, they don't have 1% of the satiric talent that Newman has in the finger he plays piano the least with.

Yeah, you go on and make your jokes, you little pin-heads. Randy Newman can make more money than you. And he can think deeper than you nine times out of ten. You wouldn't dare write a song like this one, and you'd shrink from the Standards and Practices Boys if you did:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Song in me head: "Real Emotional Girl" Randy Newman

Song I'm whistling: "Children of Sanchez" Chuck Mangione

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crude oil prices have dropped to $57.93 a barrel. How's your price per gallon?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

* And he's coming to town, too!

The "Now I've Seen Everything" Dept.-- James Bond

In which the author, having seen everything there is to see on the subject makes a capsule* summary of each, looking for trends and contributing what he calls an Ouvre-view.**

Subject: The James Bond Series

"Casino Royale" (Brown, 1954): This one-hour adaptation for live-television's "Climax!" series starred Barry Nelson as "card-sharp" "Jimmy" Bond (American) taking on LeChiffre played by Peter Lorre. Primitive, a bit ill-timed in execution, it is a fairly faithful adaptation of Fleming's story although some liberties had to be taken (Bond's torture: tied up in a bathtub, his toes crushed by pliers (Ah, The Golden Age of Television), Bond never questions his assignment, Vesper lives). A not bad first attempt, but not great, either.
00

"Dr. No" (Young, 1962): Sean Connery plays James Bond, Joseph Wiseman is Dr. No, Ursula Andress is...impressive. Armed with a $1 million budget, Bond comes to the big-screen with a heavy injection of humor, a lot more implied sexual activity than in the novel, and genuinely nasty streak in violence. Bernard Lee plays Bond boss "M" with a heavy layer of crust. Bond gets his Walther PPK and ends up in a boat with the girl at the end. Connery's rough around the edges with a soft purr to his voice. Director Terence Young has put a lot of grit into the movie, and Peter Hunt's slash-and-burn editing keeps things moving faster than your normal adventure flick. It's also a bit of a send-up of your normal adventure flick--Ken Adam's flamboyant sets being the most obvious evidence of so many tongues in cheeks. The music is laughable except for John Barry's arrangement of "The James Bond Theme" which is used so much it nearly out-wears its welcome. Introduces S.P.E.C.T.R.E., a world-wide terrorism outfit as a stand-in for the Soviet Union (the producers wanted to court them as a market). 0000000

"From Russia With Love" (Young, 1963): What is Fleming's best novel is given a couple extra surprises mostly in Soviet spies working as double-agents for SPECTRE-chief Blofeld (whose face is not revealed). Casting is top-notch: Lotte Lenya as spy-chief Rosa Klebb, Pedro Armedariz as Our Man in Instanbul, but best of all is Robert Shaw as Grant, assigned to assassinate Bond and discredit him. The Shaw/Connery scenes are genuinely tense culminating in a no-holds-barred fight in the close-quarters of a railroad car. Some spectacular stunt work--and a scene where Bond is pursued amidst hill-tops by a grenade-launching helicopter becomes iconic, which is a nod and a wink to Hitchcock. "Q" is introduced. Bond ends up with girl in boat. 0000000

"Goldfinger" (Hamilton, 1964): There are still thrills, but an extra coat of polish and humor is given this one, which also improves on Fleming, ditching his caper for one that's a bit more practical and scarier. Connery throws in more comic bits of business and plays it a bit more detached, probably because his Bond is a bit passive in the detecting department. Lots more gadgets. That car. That laser. Oddjob and his lethal derby. That little old lady with the machine-gun. Pussy Galore starts the trend towards eye-rolling names. Extended battle sequence at Fort Knox is the first extended battle sequence to climax the movie. 0000000

"Thunderball" (Young, 1965): Gadgets and locales start to crowd out Connery and for the first time, the movie seems like a let-down from Fleming. Starts with a jet-pack escape and ends with an underwater battle sequence that seems to go on forever--underwater ballet with spear-guns. So does the central atom-bomb hijacking that sets the plot...well, one is attempted to say "in motion" but it stops the movie cold. SPECTRE and the man with the cat is back. Connery appears iritated at times. But it is the all-time Bond box-office camp (adjusted for inflation). Bond ends up with girl in boat (until they're whisked away by air-sea rescue, see what I mean about the gadgets?) 00000

"Casino Royale" (Hughes, et al., 1967) Tiresome spoof with an all-star cast (David Niven, Peter Sellers, Orson Welles, Ursula Andress, Woody Allen...Woody Allen?) "Hellzapoppin'" Bond. If only it were funnier. Everyone ends up in Hell (deservedly, I thought) Audience only feels like it. 0

"You Only Live Twice" (Gilbert, 1967): Bond goes to Japan to stop hi-jacked space capsules. SPECTRE's secret HQ is in a big hollowed-out volcano that regularly launches rockets and helicopters. Right, no one'll notice. Finally see Blofeld and it's Donald Pleasance with one nasty scar and the voice of a braying chihuahua. Script logic and any resemblance to the Fleming story go down the ol' lava-tube. Connery hits his marks professionally, but that's about it. Big ninja attack in the volcano!! Goes...on...forever. Bond ends up with girl in a raft. 0000

"On Her Majesty's Secret Service" (Hunt, 1969): Connery's gone, but not for good. George Lazenby is Bond...only semi-good. He looks fine in stunts but so does a 2 x4 when used right. Editor Peter Hunt directs with an eye toward more color and a pell-mell style. Bond undercover to track down Blofeld who's now Telly Savalas. Bond falls in love with Diana Rigg who's groovy, baby. Lots of good skiing action. One bad love-montage with music. No gadgets to be seen. Nice crisp attack on mountain-top HQ, then a big wedding. Bond ends up with dead wife in his car. 000000

"Diamonds Are Forever" (Hamilton, 1971): Connery's back, jowlier and with a greyer toupee. Camp abounds. Effete Blofeld. Gay hoodlums. Big diamond laser thingy in sky. Played for laffs (what else can you do with Jill St. John as the Bond-girl), but some good jokey dialog still manages to surface. A none-too-impressive battle on an offshore oil rig. Bond ends up on ocean liner with girl. 0000

"Live and Let Die" (Hamilton, 1973): Roger Moore is Bond, and kinda mannequins his way through it. Racist little plot but a bit more hip than racist little book. Yaphet Kotto is not sure what movie he's in, can't maintain an attitude. Jane Seymour's not sure what movie she's in, feels she has to act. More chases, less material stringing movie together. Looking a little threadbare. Bond ends up with girl on train. 0000

"The Man with the Golden Gun" (Hamilton, 1974): Moore's back and is a little meaner which is hard to believe. Cristopher Lee would have been a terrific Scaramanga in another movie--here he's a bit cheery. Britt Ekland is the bottom of the barrel for Bond-girls. But is better than Herve Vellechaize as hench-thing. Exotic locales. Energy "crisis" plot (in 1975!) Highpoint is barrell-rolling car stunt across river. Still looks amazing. Bond ends up with girl in junk. Precisely! 000

"The Spy Who Loved Me" (Gilbert, 1977): Moore at his best, but Bond-by-formula. Lazy writing. Too-easy seductions. Bond has it too easy all the way. Jaws--"Nuff said." Chase after chase with a plot spray-painted from the "You Only Live Twice" stencil. Marvin Hamlisch score feels like "James Bond! The Musical!" Barbara Bach plastic-pretty. But that's a great stunt in the open. Good will of that can't sustain the movie. Bond ends up with girl in bath-o-sub-escape-thing. 000

"Moonraker" (Gilbert, 1979): Moore is less. Very lazy writing. Venice sequence with hover-craft gondola and double-taking pigeons. Space movie with ray-gun shoot-out. Jaws falls in love with Pippi Longstocking. Bond-girl's name is Holly Goodhead (and she's supposed to be taken seriously?). Bond ends up with girl in orbit. Shoulda stayed there. 00

"For Your Eyes Only" (Glen, 1981): More plot. Less stunts. Moore's starting to show age. Great climbing sequence. Borrowed bit from Fleming's "Live and Let Die" works well. Major ick factor as under-age gymnast Lynn-Holly Johnson hits on grand-dad Moore. Topol makes a good ally though he chews a lot of scenery. Bond ends up with girl on boat. 0000

"Octopussy" (Glen, 1983): A lot of plot partly written by George MacDonald Fraser. Some good moments, especially those involving a radical Russian General (Steven Berkoff). Moore dressed as clown disarming nuclear bomb feels...natural. Maud Adams, a bit stiff. Louis Jordan, a bit ripe. Fight outside a plane in flight a bit preposterous. Bond ends up with girl on boat. 000

"Never Say Never Again" (Kershner, 1983): Connery back. Writer Lorenzo Semple (Batman television series) briefly uses the "age" thing but then returns to Bond as elder stuntsman. Great cast with Kim Basinger, Klaus Maria Brandauer (superb!), Max Von Sydow, Edward Fox and an over the top Barbara Carrera (never better). Borrowed "Thunderball" plot with some 80's relics (Bond and villain "duel" over a video game?) . Last third of the movie is slipshod and rushed. Time to say "Never Again." Bond ends up with girl in a therapeutic hot-tub. Good choice. 000

"A View to a Kill" (Glen, 1985): Speaking of not coming back. Roger Moore's last outing and its irritating. It's fun to have Christopher Walken (as the villain) and Patrick MacNee (as a disposable field operative), but not to have Grace Jones and Tanya Roberts (who's particularly grating). Oddly unexciting film about a plot to cause The Big California Earthquake. Villain's a genius who produces computer chips but doesn't realize he's trying to kill a sizable chunk of his customer base. Hmmm. Starts with a chase at the Eiffel Tower. Ends with a fight at the Golden Gate Bridge. After all that, Bond ends up with girl in a shower. Moore's all washed up. 00

"The Living Daylights" (Glen, 1987): Timothy Dalton is Bond and a good one, this 007 taking the job VERY seriously and not liking it much. Though Dalton is king of romantic mini-series, he tones it down here. Bit of a cad, in fact. And sometimes barely in control. Great pre-credit sequence on Gibraltar. Possibly best fight in series and Bond's not in it. Good cast with Jeroen Crabbe as The Villain, and Joe Don Baker as the literal heavy (subsisting on scenery, I think) Bond ends up with girl...in dressing room. 000000

"Licence To Kill" (Glen, 1989): Borrowed bits from Fleming in a story about a drug king-pin who maims Felix Leiter, Bond's pal in the CIA. Bond quits MI6 and goes rogue for revenge. Feels like Fleming, but doesn't feel like Bond. Bond-girls are a bit token-tough. Villain has best lines. A very young Benecio DelToro shows up as villain's creepy, weasley assistant. Sub-plot of a televangelist as a drug marketer is mean-spirited/funny, but ruined by the casting of Wayne Newton. A guy gets exploded in a pressure chamber but Newton is ickier. Extended action sequence with 18-wheelers goes on far too long. Bond ends up with girl in a swimming pool. 00000

"Goldeneye" (Campbell, 1995): After a seven year hiatus where most of the old Bond-team die, Bond returns. Pierce Brosnan makes a dapper, very crisp Bond and his introduction in the pre-credits in terrific. Casting of unfamiliar names (except for Sean Bean and Famke Janssen as the villains) with fine acting chops helps push Brosnan to the forefront. Bond-girl can ACT!! And she's the one who saves the day! Dame Judi Dench is the female "M" (she's squinty-eyed/prickly), Allan Cumming is a Russian computer-nerd, Joe Don Baker is back as an ally, Michael Kitchen as M's Chief of Staff and Robbie Coltrane and Minnie Driver show up in cameos. Another too-long finale. Great CGI credit sequence. Horrible score by Eric Serra that electronically with sampled clanking between "oohs" and "aahs." Bond ends up with girl...in a military helicopter. 00000

"Tomorrow Never Dies" (Spottiswoode, 1997): Brosnan again, but a slightly devalued Bond. Plot's about a media mogul who makes his own conflict-headlines. A bit over-written in places. Too many worthless chases. Jonathan Pryce makes an ineffectual villain. Teri Hatcher shows up briefly and is killed. Michelle Yeoh kicks things up as Chinese agent. Odd little sequence with Vincent Schiavelli as assassination specialist Dr. Kaufmann. As soon as garage-chase ends, it all goes downhill. Final battle on "stealth-boat" in interminable. Bond ends up with girl...on pieces of a boat. 000

"The World is Not Enough" (Apted, 1999): Longest pre-credits sequence in Bond history makes a slight kerfluffle of the story, but Bond has to protect an oil heiress from an international terrorist who had previously kidnapped her. Robert Carlyle is largely wasted but Sophie Marceau makes the best of a confusedly-written part. Denise Richards is a nuclear physicist named "Christmas" (oh, the possibilities are endless) Old "Q" leaves, and new "Q" is John Cleese and hardly a "harrumph" is skipped. Dramatically a bit inert. Bond ends up with girl in Turkey... after exiting a too-long submarine sequence. Brosnan-Richards romance feels a bit icky. 0000

"Die Another Day" (Tamahori, 2002): Starts out promisingly: Bond is captured by North Korea and held prisoner and tortured while 9-11 happens. Traded and discredited but escapes own services' captivity to start an investigation in Cuba. Then Halle Berry shows up and it all goes horribly...horribly wrong. Bond's Greatest Hits Done Poorly. Laser satellite. Car chase on ice. The thing is like a steroid-pumped video game (which probably was the idea). Snarky villain. Madonna title-song and..urk..cameo. Awful. Bond ends up with girl in Korean prayer temple. Protests ensue. Wanted to grab a sign and join them. 00

"Casino Royale" (Campbell, 2005): Brosnan out/Daniel Craig in. Great script. Great action. Out-Flemings Fleming. Somehow makes Bond work for post-9-11 world in the same way he worked for the Cold War. Terrific cast. Eva Green shines as love-interest. No gadgets. Bond ends up withOUT girl...on a boat. 0000000

Ouvre-view: It only took forty years but somehow the producers and the audience have come together to bring Fleming's Bond to the silver-screen and see it succeed. "Dr. No" changed Fleming to increase the laughs and entertainment quotient and as long as the movies were in the Swingin' 60's it seemed to work. But once the '60's and the series' Rosetta Stone--Connery--passed, the movies and Fleming parted company to provide audiences with bread, circuses and gadgets-up-the-tailpipe jalopies. When attempts were made to take Bond back to his graying roots--with "OHMSS" and "Licence To Kill"--the poor box-office had the producers fleeing back to their bullet-proof tuxedoes. But, finally, with an official adaptation of the very first novel, everyone seems to be on the same page...and fortunately it's one written by Ian Fleming.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

*...with any luck.

**Ouvre: 1.the works of a writer, painter, or the like, taken as a whole.

Movie Review - "Zodiac"

"You're doing it again! That thing I don't like that starts with an 'L'"

Paul Avery (Robert Downey, Jr.) in "Zodiac"

David Fincher's "Zodiac" is the most disciplined and least-flashy movie in his career. A 2 hour, 45 minute overview of California's "Zodiac" serial-killer case from almost the start to the finish--a nearly thirty year tale that is less about the crimes, specifically, but more about obsession: the obsessions that sparked the crimes and the obsessions, in turn, sparked by them. Over time as personalities change, careers and fortunes rise and fall, as the city morphs and hem-lines and side-burns flare and recede, the obsession burns and inflicts its own damage. It's a movie about that damage and the shockwaves that killers inflict beyond the immediate victims.

This is not to say that "Zodiac" is not violent--it is, at least for the first half-hour or so, but it is the cold-blooded casualness of the violence that stuns (at one point "Zodiac" is seen pummelling a woman and you realize to your horror that she is being stabbed--these are the least "theatrical" killings I've seen on-screen), and those expecting a gore-fest will be let down by the lack of screen-time devoted to the actual murders, but Fincher maintains a looming (that "L" word mentioned above) unease that infects later scenes with dread.

Stay to the end of the credits and you'll be presented will three big-screen pages of technical consultants (many of whom are the real-life characters portrayed in the film) and a long list of thanks to communities who figured in the convoluted path of the tale. Meticulously researched and painstakingly recreated (I've seen glowing comment threads from San Franciscans amazed at the scruplulousness of the production), the same care is also taken with the many performances from a non-stellar, but reliable cast of character-actors all doing subtle, nuanced work. From Robert Downey Jr.'s fussy turn as a scruffy San Francisco Chronicle reporter, to Anthony Edwards and Mark Rufalo as the two lead SFPD detectives investigating (you can imagine Rufalo's Detective Toschi serving as a model for both Steve McQueen's "Bullitt" and Eastwood's "Dirty Harry" even though his performance is far-afield of those star-turns), and Jake Gyllenhaal as the character involved longest with the case...except for the killer.

"You've got the look." An acquaintance of a Zodiac suspect guesses immediately that's what Gyllenhaal's Robert Graysmith wants to talk about and it's the eyes that are the dead give-away. Gyllenhaal has used that moony-goony look of his to great effectiveness in "October Sky" and "Brokeback Mountain," but put an edge to it and he's got the most effective "thousand mile stare" in Hollywood as in "Jarhead" (He's matched by Rufalo's Toschi, his eyes glinting hard-cold while maintaining a disarming, constant half-smile). It pays off towards the film's end when two stalkers who've never met recognize each other immediately. For all the period detail that informs the movie, the drama is carried along and climaxed by the look in people's eyes.

Fincher harkens back to the paranoid thrillers of the 70's, even going so far as to use the Paramount and Warners Studio logos from the era, and reviving the career of composer David Shire whose sombre, oppressive scores provided the low rumblings of such films as "The Conversation" and "All the President's Men."

But despite the intricacies of plot, the labyrinth of clues and puzzles, the shadowy corridors, darkened streets and blind alleys, the film is never allowed to lose focus or drag. One is never aware of the length of the film, only the passage of time in the film. And that's an amazing accomplishment, but not the last one.

Because for all the time-lapse CGI tricks Fincher employs (and some of the essential clues that are focussed on), there is an acknowledgement made of the most lethal serial killer: in the end, time gets all of us. Our life-histories catch up, and right or wrong, no one goes away unpunished.

What Jon said ("Zodiac" is a full-price ticket)

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Gas prices are high at $2.79 a gallon for regular, while the price for sweet crude dropped to $60.05 a barrel. It may be a relative drop in the barrel, but still...."Market Forces."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Song in me Head: "Bad Boy" (Beatles version--"Now, Jun-yah, Be-HAVE yo'self")