Friday, December 30, 2011

Uncle Zack picks the best movies of 2011

The critics have chosen the so-called best movies of 2011 and as usual it is an abysmal assortment of films you’ve never seen or even heard about. And why would you? They went nowhere.
What I found interesting is that, for the most part, they chose the same films. Here’s a list of their most popular choices.
The Artist
Hugo
Margaret
The Descendants
Drive
Melancholia
Meek’s Cut-off
Le Havre
The Tree of Life.
The only one I’ve seen is Hugo. Now here’s the thing. This movie received glowing reviews and praise as one of Scorsese’s best.
It was a snore.
The first 40 minutes simply features a boy in a train depot in 1930’s France. That’s it. 40 minute of a boy wandering a train station. Then we are subjected to the usual plot contrivances. The boy’s an orphan (oh, boo-hoo) the war injured cop is too shy to talk to the pretty girl and the crusty old man turns out to have a heart of gold. Fortunately, none of you have ever seen a movie with those elements.
This bomb was in and out of theaters faster than the latest Harold and Kumar disaster. Now here’s my point. How do the people who review movies get their jobs? Since all the movies they chose tanked, shouldn’t they be fired?
A new movie comes out, you think it looks interesting and go to the reviews to see what the critics say, then you base your decision on what they wrote. Is it funny? Is it action packed? Is it engaging? Is it a chick flick? Will the kids like it?
These are the questions the critics no longer consider or address. Over the last few years movie critics have become social activists, and push movies with themes that appeal to their sense of how society should be.
That’s not their job. Their job is to watch movies and provide you with clear information on what it contains so you can decide whether you would like to see it.        
  But to be fair there really wasn’t much to choose from this year, mostly sequels of one sort or another, so the studios should share some of the blame. Still there were some originals that were worth seeing, for example:
Rango.  Fun, clever, witty and edgy enough to hold your attention.
Cowboys and Aliens. Got panned by the critics but it brought something new to an old genre. Action-packed, fast-paced and well acted.
Source Code.  A truly intriguing science fiction film with enough twists and turns to keep you riveted.
Battle L.A.  This is a guy flick, period. So much action and adrenaline that you leave the movie feeling like you had been fighting alongside them.
Before I announce my personal favorite of the year let me explain how I critique a movie. I strongly dislike movies that feature some poor abused group during some horrible time in their country’s history who at the end triumph over all odds. Those movies have been done to death and I’m just plain sick of them.  For example I enjoyed The King’s Speech and Forrest Gump but did not like Slumdog Millionaire or The Help. I love anything that’s new, different and brings something to the table that I haven’t experienced before. And so, my favorite movie for 2011 is…

 Sucker Punch. I will be the first to say this movie isn’t for everybody and the first 20 minutes drag but only because pulling off something this different requires a lot of set up, but once you get into it, you’ll be amazed. The visuals and the music are simply amazing. Plus it features a tragic murder, an insane asylum/nightclub, an impending lobotomy, a carefully planned escape attempt, a murderous hospital administrator and steam-powered Nazis, yeah, that right, stream-powered Nazis. If you enjoy movies well grounded in fact and realism, this isn’t for you BUT, if you have a taste for something you’re going to remember and talk about long after the other movies you’ve seen are long forgotten this is the pick of the litter.


Monday, December 26, 2011

The Dead Machine


Chapter One

“Virgil? Good heavens, Virgil, is that you? Is that really you!?”         
Virgil’s eyes immediately widened and his heart leaped at the sound of her voice. His hand trembled on the dials as he fine-tuned the transmission.
When the hissing lessened he replied with unrestrained excitement, “Yes, yes it is me! It’s Virgil!”
There was a moment’s hesitation, then she asked, “How…how is this possible?”
He stared at the speaker, imagining her face, longing to see it again. He paid no attention to the cold or to the steamy vapor escaping his mouth as he breathed. Nor the drafts that bit into his fingers and snaked up his pant leg. He even ignored the acrid smell permeating every inch of the barn.
Nothing mattered, nothing but this moment, this incredibly special moment.
 Shaking with excitement, Virgil leaned into the microphone. “Do you remember, just before you were taken away, me telling you that no matter what, I would find you, and that we’d be together again?”
Through the crackling static came a reply. “Yes, but that… many years ago. And in th… situations people say things, knowing that… comforting things… lessen the hardship, to lessen…pain. I never thought that …”
“That I’d actually find you?”
The static grew louder and panic gripped Virgil. He jumped out of his seat and scanned the computer screens, recalibrating and synchronizing the feed.
“…have found me. Oh, Virgil, somehow you‘ve done the impossible!”
“Nothing is impossible!” Virgil shot back. “They all scoffed. They ridiculed and dismissed my work as a delusion, as fantasy. My grants dried up, my investors backed out; even the military gave up. But I never gave up! I made you a solemn promise and today, that promise has been kept.”
“Virgil, I don’t know what to say, I…”
Virgil interrupted as he scanned the computer screens. “What are your surroundings? Describe them for me. Can you see the stars?”
The static increased. The reply broke up. All four computer screens flashed Recalibrating…
“…The horizon in the morning…when I look out…the lights are always on… when we gather as a group…”
The hissing overwhelmed the rest of the sentence.
Virgil’s hands flew over the controls.
Recalibrating…
 “Mostly, we have a…”
Recalibrating…
Some background noise seeped into the transmission, then a stranger’s voice. “Virgil…? Lillian, did I just hear Virgil? Where…it coming from?”
“Bert, this is…private conversation and…”
The man ignored her. “Virgil? Is that you? Where are you? It’s me, Bert Langley. Remember me? I…science teacher…down…block? You used…newspaper to my…when you…kid. And I… tip you a whole…”
“Get out…here, you bastard,” Lillian bellowed. “Virgil doesn’t…about you! He wants…talk to me!”
Virgil heard a grunt, a huff and a shuffling of feet.
“Okay, he’s gone, and yes, we... several times a week… socialize and talk about ….back home.”
Virgil felt a lump in his throat. “You still miss us? Even after all this time?”
“Of course, Virgie! It’s knowing that our… care for us is…keeps us together. You are… thoughts each and every day.”
Tears spilled down Virgil’s cheek. “You are in mine each and every day too and…”
Virgil stopped when he heard Bert Langley’s voice again. It grew louder as he moved back into the transmission field. “Over there, see? I told you! Lillian is…with the outside. What? No! She’s not sending signals, she’s receiving them! See for… apparently…is possible…”
Lillian’s voice broke through in sharp hushed tones. “They’re coming Virgil! Disconnect! I don’t want them to know what you’ve accomplished. Get…to me in…few days!”
“Who’s coming? What are you talk…”
“Disconnect! Disconnect!” she shouted.
Virgil did.
He bowed his head and his hands fell into his lap as the level indicators on the array of computer screens slowly dropped, then flatlined.
 A few moments later, when the shock started wearing off, he said in a shaky voice, “I did it! After eleven years of ridicule from those jealous miscreants, I did it! We actually spoke.”
He wrapped his arms around himself, breathed deeply, then shot his fist into the air. “And this,” he said, bursting with confidence, “is just the beginning!”
Virgil rose from his chair at the control panel, walked over to his desk, reached down and picked up the framed photo that had accompanied him everywhere he went. He gazed at the picture, smiled, kissed it and placed it back on his desk.
The photo was of his mother, Lillian.
A woman dead for the past eleven years.



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