Do I have the music in me?

For the longest time, I could never get into music at all. While other forms of media like film and television were easy for me to grasp and enjoy, music was far more challenging and still is a hassle for me to grasp.

I have many favorite types of movies and genres that all speak to me, but music does not come as easily. I am hardpressed to name my favorite songs or music groups of all time or even list all of the different genres and types of music.

Hell, I don't even have an iPod. I certainly listen to music, but it entirely comes from the radio when I wake up in the morning or when I'm driving and its always the same few stations, including a couple channels that only play songs that are topping the charts. I recognize names and lyrics, but they don't really mean that much to me.

Music is not my strong taste.

But why is this? Why do I enjoy so many artforms but can't get into music as I can with others?

I think part of the reason for this is because of how these artforms make me feel. Movies, for example, take multiple senses to enjoy. Not only do you see the images, but you hear what they're saying and will often make me think. I enjoy a good meal, because it involves both the sense of taste and touch.

Music, on the other hand, only involves my sense of hearing.

While music does a great job at that, it is only captivating me one way, while other artforms can be multi-sensual. Which is why I listen to music while driving and have no problem with enjoying during the moment.

To me, music is a state of mind. It puts me in a state where I can be many things, including relaxed, happy, content, sad, overjoyed and more. But as a result, I'm not necessarily thinking about what I'm listening to. The lyrics are not leaving an impact on me, because I'm not necessarily listening to the lyrics.

It's like watching a movie with little to no plot, like "2001: A Space Odyssey." I'm not enjoying it because it speaks to me or is powerful and moving, but because of the experience.

Luckily this is not my only frame of mind when it comes to all music. There is of course music that I enjoy listening to and can't get enough of. It is just that I'm incredibly selective over chosing that type of music.

For example, one my favorite songs right now is Pharrell's "Happy." I actually listen to it every time I finish up one of these editorial blog posts while I work on uploading it for everyone to see. I will admit that the song is quite repetitive, but it never fails to put me in a good mood. My day is brightened when I hear that song.

Other examples would include The Beach Boys, Journey, Queen and a few movie and video game soundtracks. For basically the same reason I listen to "Happy." They put me in a great mood because they're so uplifting and upbeat.

This has happened over the last few years. As I entered college, I did not enjoy music at all. But lately, things have gotten to the point where I can appreciate music for the different types of moods that it can put me in. Now my window of opportunities on music has become much wider and it has allowed me to enjoy a new type of artform that was once lost on me.

It's just that I have a long ways to go and may never fully appreciate music as much as others do.

Movie Review: "Stand By Me" (1986)

Sometimes one element turns an okay movie into a great movie. A little addition that adds an aspect of analysis and reflection to the events of the film.

Such is the case with "The Princess Bride," specifically by making it a fairy tale being told by a grandfather to his sick grandson. Without that element, it would just be a quirky fantasy with some good writing and funny lines. But by making it a story within a story, it adds an element of a fable and mythos. A story that has been passed down through generations, possibly being altered but the core elements remaining. The heart of the film becomes even stronger as a result.

Another film that can be added to that list of films is now "Stand By Me," curiously directed by the same man who brought us "The Princess Bride," Rob Reiner. Much like his other film, "Stand By Me" is a story within a story, but instead of it being a grand fairy tale, this one is a tale of reflection and coming-of-age.

In the middle of a hot summer out of the middle of Oregon, a group of four young teenage boys have just set out on the adventure of their young lives: finding a dead body out in the middle of the forest. Along the way, they have to deal with junkyard dogs, oncoming trains, a gang of hoodlums who are also out looking for the body and themselves.

What makes this film stand out so much is that this is all being told from the perspective of an older version of one of the boys (voiced by Richard Dreyfuss). The narration seems to look back fondly on the events of this adventure, but also takes special note about how much all four changed over the course of thier journey, especially Gordie (Wil Wheaton).

This is a coming-of-age story, but done in a much different way than most others. We don't see these boys change much over the course of the film, because they're so wrapped up in having fun and being obsessed with this dead body. The narrator makes it clear they did learn a lot, they just didn't know it yet. It isn't until after years of reflection and aging that they realized something: You have your best friends when you are twelve years old.

Outside of the narration, "Stand By Me" still does a great job at keeping suspense and looming anticipation over the dead body. Sequences such as the boys having to outrun a train stands out because of how well-paced it is. Each shot lasts just long enough to build the tension and it pays off in a satisfying conclusion.

Even a simple scene like the gang wrestling in the water only to get covered in leeches sticks in my mind, due to the chemistry between the actors. Their looks of concern and dread over what might have happened is the driving force behind many scenes. This takes a great deal of talent to pull off and to see it in a young group of actors makes it all the more impressive.

I think what I enjoyed the most about this film was the genuine sense of adventure. That these boys were going to leave behind the world they knew and explore something uncharted and unknown. No matter what got in their way, they would go on and they were going to do it with their best friends. Each sequence demonstrated that, with all of them standing on their own merits but adding to the greater whole, just like an adventure film should be.

Overall, "Stand By Me" is another great film from Rob Reiner. It makes for an interesting follow-up to "The Princess Bride" as both are timeless works that have found their own voice and speak passionately. One is about the pursuit of true love and time, while the other is about enjoying the time that you have. Because life is not about the destination, but the journey.


Final Grade: A-

Movie Review: "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" (2014)

If there's one popular superhero out there that I never cared for, it would be Spider-Man. But not for the reason that most other people hate him.

It seems that the popular consensus on dislike for the wall-crawler is that he is too whiny and baby-ish. But, to be fair, lots of superheroes whine about how they are tortured souls that have lived tragic lives. It is their rise and ability to overcome this tragedy that makes them relatable and interesting characters.

The reason I don't care for Spider-Man is something rather recent that came up in the comic "One More Day" in which Spider-Man, in order to save his dying aunt May, makes a deal with the literal devil and must sacrifice his marriage to Mary Jane Watson.

It's not so much Spidey making a deal with the devil, but part of a much larger problem: Spider-Man has always been written like a child. People enjoy Spider-Man because of the duality between the man and the mask, that constant struggle between his life as Peter Parker and his life of fighting crime. But the problem is that, when you think about it, there is no duality. Peter will always choose his life as Spider-Man first and make excuses as to why he couldn't be there as Peter Parker. The mask will always win, and it makes Spider-Man a selfish child who can't learn from his mistakes. If he really cared about his regular life and how his actions of being Spider-Man were effecting his loved ones, he would have stopped being a web-slinger a long time ago.

For all his talk of "with great power comes great responsibility," Spider-Man is probably the most irresponsible superhero ever.

This complaint about Spider-Man translates into his most recent film, "The Amazing Spider-Man 2." While it alone does not tranish the film, it does eventually add up over time and leaves me scratching my head about what the point of the movie was.

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) has just graduated from high school but his life as Spider-Man is still in full swing, as he stops crimes and saves innocent lives. But things take a weird turn when Peter's old childhood friend, Harry Osborn (Dane DeHann), returns when his father dies of a mysterious illness. It seems Harry has the same disease and the only cure might be Spider-Man's blood. Peter is unsure of what might happen so he declines the offer.

But Harry won't take this without a fight, so he uses his father's vast range of technology and weapons to fight Spider-Man, even enlisting the help of a new super-powered weapon, Electro (Jamie Foxx). Together, they intend to capture Spider-Man at whatever cost, including his girlfriend, Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone).

What I did enjoy about this film was the comedy. The aspect of Spider-Man that I've always enjoyed would be his need to make quips and comedic jabs at his opponent. Not only does this give Spider-Man his own unique feel, but it also an effective battle strategy: Dodge your opponent's moves, get them angry through insults so that they make hasty judgment calls, find their weak spots and attack.

But not only were his quips good in this film, but there was an atmosphere that allowed for so many other great moments, like when Electro is bouncing between electrical towers and the noise he is emitting sounds exactly like the Spider-Man theme song, which we hear multiple times throughout the film, from Peter humming the tune to the ring tone on his phone.

It is too bad moments like these are short lived, as basically anytime a scene involves Harry Osborne, the film gets incredibly serious and hardly ever cracks a smile. Granted he is dying of an illness he doesn't understand, but then again he is playing a twenty-year old in charge of a billion dollar company. You'd think they could have some fun with that.

Ultimately, my problem with "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" comes back to the same question: At the end of the day, what did this film accomplish? How did this film advance the story of Spider-Man?

I'm hard-pressed to think of an answer.

Other than one major story point (which I won't spoil), Peter Parker is the exact same person at the beginning of the film as he was at the end. He doesn't change at all or come to any realization about his father. He knows a little bit more about why his father did what he did, but after that particular scene it is never addressed again. It carries no emotional weight or effect on Peter, so it felt pointless.

Sure, near the end, he considers giving up being Spider-Man because of how it might hurt his loved ones, but he still ends up putting it on the costume and fighting baddies either way. So that short scene of Peter possibly giving it up accomplished nothing.

Thus we come back to the root of my problem with Spider-Man. Peter puts his family and friends through hell, thanks to his actions of being a hero. Even if the bad guys don't know who he is, his loved ones still end up getting hurt. Yet, he still believes that he is a responsible adult who makes the right decisions. He puts his thoughts and feelings ahead of everyone else, yet pretends that he is a selfless individal.

To me, that is bad writing and makes Spider-Man a brat with ego problems.

Overall, there were some enjoyable parts to "The Amazing Spider-Man 2," mostly revolving around the comedy, effects and use of Electro's powers of manipulating anything electrical. But by the end, I was left unsure about the film. It felt like nothing new was brought to the table and very little was accomplished. For a hero who is just out of high school, it sure does feel like Spider-Man could learn a lot more, yet chooses not to.


Final Grade: C-

The Difference Between "Good" and "Great"

I often find myself asking what the difference is between a film being “good” and” great.” Why is it that I don’t look at a film like “Thor” as highly as I do films like “12 Years A Slave”? What separates these into different categories of movies?

This is a question that I have a difficult time answering, especially since my criteria keeps changing, depending on the film. One of my fundamentals of film criticism is watch the film on its own terms and let it speak for itself. To not compare it to any other existing work. As much as I’ve broken this rule in the past, like with “Frozen” and “The Bishop’s Wife,” I do try to stick to it.

I guess a better term for it would be a guideline, instead of a rule.

The difference between “good” and “great” is going to vary from person to person. To me, it is all about a state of mind and how each word makes you feel. “Good” is pleasing, positive and uplifting. While “great” is inspiring, motivational and ecstatic. I feel the same way about those movies which fall into the same categories. 

An example of a good movie would be “Cowboys & Aliens.” It is a by-the-books, fun, and enjoyable ride from start to finish. It does not really stumble at any point, but it understands the ridiculous situation that it has presented and just takes that ride for all it is worth. It is a well-made, good-looking popcorn film that does not disappoint. 

While for great movies, on the other hand, I’ll use my go-to pick, “Jaws.” While on the surface it may appear to be another popcorn film, it becomes something far more by adding character to itself. “Jaws” stands out above other films because of its atmosphere of tension and dread of an impending shark attack. We know something is lurking beneath the water and it can rip us to shreds, but when and where will it strike? It tries to be like a Hitchcock film, while still having the friendly and inviting atmosphere of a Spielberg film.

Perhaps that is the main difference between these two types. A good movie will merely try to entertain the audience to the best of its ability, and normally succeeds. A great movie, on the other hand, will not only entertain, but enlighten. To add character and depth to an already good idea. 

Does this mean that popcorn films like “Thor” and “Cowboys & Aliens” can only be good movies? I don’t think so. It is difficult, but some of the better mindless action films I’ve seen have proven to revile in their ideas that I fall in love with them for their heart and effort. 

For example, I believe “The Avengers” and “Pacific Rim” are just popcorn films, but goddamn if they aren’t the best popcorn films I’ve ever seen. They understand their genre and what makes it so unique from any other type of film, and focus their time and efforts on those aspects. This makes the films not just fun, but also honest and one-of-a-kind. They are simple, but filled to the brim with passion and admiration for their craft. I love them for that.

In fact, love is a big, unspoken part of this topic. Whether the filmmakers love for cinema is translated onto the screen or I simply fall in love with a movie, it plays a part in how I see the film. It is difficult to consistently entertain an audience, but it is even harder to get them emotionally invested and care about your story. It is why I love a good movie, but why I also have even more respect for a great movie. 

One last note worth mentioning is the lasting effect that a particular film as on me. While a good movie might entertain me while it is on, it doesn’t leave much of an impression on me when it is over. I might recall events from the film and how much I liked certain scene, but not much else. While a great film will be stuck in my head for days or weeks after I watch it. Not just scenes or moments that stuck out, but what the film was trying to say and how it presented it. How the film moved and looked, and the style of its presentation. 

In a film like “Django Unchained,” its not the gory shootouts or constant swearing that sticks with me, but the quiet and more somber moments that Django and Doctor Schultz share as they discuss their plans or even a German fairy tale. The scenes that take the time to let the film breath and speak for itself. The conversations feel real and genuine that you believe and care about every word they say. That is the mark of a great movie.

So, in the end, it honestly depends on each individual movie. Yet, there is a distinct difference between “good” and “great.” If I were to describe what it is that separates the two, it would be character and an understanding of cinema. While there is certainly nothing wrong with a good movie, it is better to be a great one. But, with my rating system, it’s even better to be a fantastic one.

"Transcendence" (2013)

What? You were expecting Johnny Depp becoming a computer and Morgan Freeman talking about how he’s unstoppable? Too bad, you get a much better movie.

Independent movies and small group movies often take huge risks that will either fail miserably or work spectacularly. They will do this as a way to make their films stick out from all the others.

Part of the reason I often cannot get invested in independent movies and short films is because they fail to grab my attention. These films will, more often than not, tell the story of someone we all know but with little unique characters thrown in and with little deviation. If that’s the case, then there isn’t much going on there. Why should I care about something that I’ve seen a million time before and will see another million times?

Occasionally, you come across a short film that does get your attention and not only peaks your interests, but also makes you want to get invested in the story and characters. One such film is Chris Mirjahangir’s “Transcendence” and the world he has created within this story. Not only are the effects at the level of a major motion picture, but the lore and mythology behind this film makes it an impressive, compact experience. 

A family has just returned from a weekend of camping in the mountains, only to find that a car on the side of the road that has bodies surrounding it. Baffled by what they find, they are soon captured at gun point and taken to a small group, where their leader tells them about a recent demon attack that has begun to wipe out the human population.

When I watched “Transcendence,” I first noticed how much it paid homage to the Godzilla films, without directly referencing them. The roars of the demons are reminiscent of certain Godzilla monsters, especially Destoroyah. While the soundtrack contained hints of music from the long-running series as well, making it feel like throwbacks to the many attacks of the king of the monsters. This makes the movie work in subtle and unique ways.

Speaking of the music, this helps add to how big and impressive this movie feels. The music is performed by a full-piece orchestra, which is nearly unheard of for a short film. The effects on the demons are also on the same level, especially since each demon has its own unique design and always has battle scars and wounds that carry over. It makes the film feel massive in scope and budget, as if this was done by a Hollywood studio.

It is made all the more impressive when you realize most of it was done by Chris Mirjahangir. 

The world of “Transcendence” is one of the more intriguing aspects, as we learn more about how the demons work and the idea of transcendence. To the people who survived the demon attack, these monsters are more than just a legend. They are an inevitability and they must rise above it. 

To find so much out of a compact film is stunning to see unfold. If “Transcendence” isn’t giving us wonderfully executed action sequences, it is filling us in with tragic characters who only care about survival against an impossible enemy. It quickly establishes mood and atmosphere with just a few quick lines and never lets the audience go. 

I’ll take that over Johnny Depp becoming digital any day.

Final Grade: A- 

The Morale Of The Story is...

Welcome to another new section of my blog, entitled “The Morale Of The Story is...” 

In these posts, I will be summarizing my feelings on the morale to be learned from each movie I look at. These morales will be life lessons that I believe can be applied in the real world and can be used to better your experience throughout life. 

This will be used to show that even the dumbest and brainless of movies can still teach the audience something, even it is as simple as appreciating what you have. 

With that said, let’s look at the morales of the many Disney animated films of recent years. I feel these are fairly straight forward morales and anyone can understand, but need to be addressed anyway. With that being said, let’s look at the morale of...

“Cinderella” (1950)

Never wear glass slippers under any circumstances. They don’t fit you very well, they break easily and apparently have a deep connection to princes. And who wants to marry a prince and have to deal with all that royalty crap? 

“Peter Pan” (1953)

Pixie dust is the elixir of life. Steal every fairy you come across and you shall rule the world.

“The Jungle Book” (1967)

Next time you get lost in the jungle, be sure to befriend the bears, orangutans and elephants. But stay away from the tigers, because they’re the real bad guys. They’ll kill you, unlike the panthers.

“The Rescuers” (1977)

When all hope and faith seems lost, your aunt is using you to collect rare and dangerous gem and has crocodiles as her pets, never fear. The mice are always on your side. 

“The Brave Little Toaster” (1987)

Your toaster, electric blanket, lamp and vacuum will chase you halfway around the world (and apparently all the way to Mars...yes, “The Brave Little Toaster Goes To Mars” is a thing that exists).

“The Little Mermaid” (1989)

Stalk someone you just met and only know through passing glances (and apparently collecting giant stone statues of them) and they will eventually fall in love with you. That’s how love works, right?

“Beauty & The Beast” (1991)

There is a monster inside of all of us, waiting to be let out. And within that monster is a hunky pinup model, waiting to be “let out.”

“Aladdin” (1992)

Genies will always make jokes and references to Groucho Marx, Johnny Carson and Jack Nicholson. Even if they don’t exist yet. 

“The Lion King” (1994)

You can either run away in fear of the past or learn from it. Except when you doubt yourself and more fear starts to set in, no one is behind you or standing up for you. Unless it all turns out what you believe is your past is a lie...So really the morale is never take responsibility for what you’ve done, because nobody will be behind you, unless you didn’t do it.

Have I mentioned this movie isn’t as good as people make it out be?

“Pocahontas” (1995)

“They’re not like you and me, which means they must be evil” is one of the worst lyrics I’ve heard in any song. Ever.

“The Hunchback Of Notre Dame” (1996)

Priests are evil. Never trust anyone in a cloak or longingly sniffs the garment of gypsy. 

“Hercules” (1997)

Always invite Hades to your party. Trust me, it will cause far less stress in the future.

“Tarzan” (1999)

Man = evil. Apes = good. Man-ape = savior of all ape-kind. Audience = confused.

“The Princess And The Frog” (2009)

The guidelines for spells and deals with shadow demons must come with extensive loopholes, written out in detail, highlighted the key points in case of a court case.

“Tangled” (2010)

A frying pan is the ultimate weapon. Tell this to MacGuyver and his head will explode. 

“Frozen” (2013)

Eternal winter isn’t as bad as some make it out to be. It’s good for the ice business, many snow days for the kids, no shortage of fresh water, the season is consistent and the temperature is only around absolute zero. That’s serviceable. 

That’s all I have for now. I hope you learned a thing or two about something that you could use in the real world, because there is so much that movies can teach us. I felt these morales were quite obvious, so next time I’ll be sure to look at some of the more obscure lessons to learned from cinema.

Film Pet Peeves: One Book = Multi-Movie Deal

While turning books into movies is nothing new at this point, a recent trend in Hollywood has been to take the last book in a critically acclaimed series and turn it into multiple movies.

This phase in Hollywood began when adapting “Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows,” the finale of the seven Harry Potter books. At the time, it made sense. The series had lasted this long, had been filled to the brim with memorable characters and needed proper buildup to the final climatic battle between Harry and Voldemort. Furthermore, this way they could add in even the minor scenes in the book that would otherwise be cut from the film, so you’re pleasing both diehard fans of the movies and the books. 

But then they started to go a bit more crazy with it. 

This recently happened with finale in the Twilight franchise, “The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn.” The Twilight film series has far less ground to stand on than the Harry Potter movies, because by comparison, the source material is much more lively and captivating, the world is far more fleshed out and the characters are likable. Not to mention, the Twilight films are laughable at best and painful at worst. 

So to break up the last book into two movies does not seem like a way to talk about the novel’s points in greater detail, but just as a way to cash in on a fade and make twice the money they would have otherwise. 

Then you get an upcoming attempt to do this with the last “Hunger Games” book, “Mockingjay.” Yes, there are going to be four “Hunger Games” movies, even though there should only be three. This one also doesn’t get me excited, because I still feel that the idea of the Hunger Games has been done many times before and done better, like “Battle Royale.” Though “Hunger Games: Catching Fire” did do something new and added some charm to this otherwise uninviting world, I’m not holding my breath with either “Mockingjay” films.

The worst offender of this trend is Peter Jackson’s attempt to adapt “The Hobbit.” By far. Not only has he decided that to go back to Middle Earth and do a prequel to his excellent “Lord Of The Rings” trilogy, but he has decided to take one novel, and turn into three movies.

I have just one question for Mr. Jackson: Why? Other than the obvious answer of “money.”

Let’s put this in perspective. By comparison to any of the “Lord Of The Rings” books, with material and length, “The Hobbit” is miniscule. This novel isn’t even close to the length of just one in that massive trilogy. Yet Jackson was able to take all three books and turn each one into its own movie. Granted, each movie is close to four hours long, but to be able to cram so much of a gigantic book into that time span is a wonderful achievement. 

So how is that a book much shorter than any of the “Lord Of The Rings” trilogy must be turned into three movies, with each movie lasting over three hours?

There’s a point where covering every part of the novel just is not a good enough reason to make us wait well over six hours of film just to get to Smaug finally attacking a town. Is it really necessary to add Legolas to the story? Or Radagast?

At some point, it stops being entertaining and becomes merely a test of patience. Fans of the novel might eat it up, but others just keep looking at their watches waiting for something interesting to happen.

These types of films are being looked at as “adaptations.” Something based off of another source material being adapted to a different medium. I do not look at it like that. I see these merely as “movies.” A piece of entertainment done usually as a way to tell a story by camera, lighting, actors, editing, etc. As a film, I choose to look at the work on it's own individual merits, without ever being compared to any other piece of work, including something that this particular work might be based off of. If the film stands or falls, it would be by it's own words and values, not the values of others.

As such, this style of breaking up one book into multiple movies is unnecessary, annoying and only serves as a way to make lots and lots of money. I don’t care if the film is being as faithful to the source material as possible, that is not an excuse to make it longer an opera about turtles eating molasses in slow motion. 

Just because you can add in every scene from the novel into your movie doesn’t mean you should. Cut these movies down. Edit out scenes that don’t add anything to story and don’t look back. Do not break it up into multiple movies just for the sake of money, but for your art form.