Too Long

Part the First: The Mechanic and The Rite


The Mechanic is an action flick.  Pure and simple.  The pacing is adequate, acting isn't really required, people calmly walk away from explosions, a plot tries to emerge, and Handsome Rob is . . . well . . . handsome.  Oh, and boobs.  But wait, let's throw in some REVENGE, that's original!  Right.  So.  Not my cup of tea.  The best action flick I've seen in a while has been The A-Team, because Sharlto Copley, Liam Neeson, and Bradley Cooper are brilliant to watch.  Guys will like it.  Whatever.

I had some hope for The Rite.  I desperately wanted Anthony Hopkins to be spectacular.  And he was, for a while.  He remains the easiest part of the movie to watch.  The lead actor (who I don't even care enough about to look up) is definitely acting.  Sir Anthony Hopkins stands apart from the film until the climax, which arrives at a very unsteady, halting, horrible pace.  Then, he spouts the same "uncomfortable truths" that have been said in every exorcism movie.  Ever.  "You're not strong enough, something happened early in your life and you were WEAK then."  "Uncomfortable sexual comment!"  "God is DEAD!"  Yeah.  We get it.  In order to make an impact, we have to startle people.  Thanks.  You know what would have been interesting?  To actually get some feeling of who (and what) Ba'al actually was.  Or, you know, to get some basic theology correct at all . . . .  Instead, it's just a name applied to the same generic demon that happens to be in every generic exorcism . . . everything.  The best exorcism movie to date has to be Stigmata, and that's not even a demon.

If you're going to go to the movies any time soon, see any (or all) of the following:  Black Swan, The King's Speech, or Tangled.

Part the Second:  Let Me In (the novel), John Ajvide Lindqvist

The movie was amazing.  The book, as it goes, was much more incredible.

We are transported to a place where single-digit temperatures in the summer are just slightly colder than normal.  Lindqvist had me wrapped in a blanket every time I picked up the book.  The frozen (but not barren) landscape lent itself very well to a singular theme: fear.  Fear motivates the actions of every character in the book, from the bullying that leads Oskar (our main character) to some very strange and dangerous habits to the reclusive nature of a very minor character that simply witnesses a key plot event.  However, I can't seem to recall a single instance of the use of the actual word itself.  Masterful.  I was always told that the best love poems never use "love."  It stands to follow, then, that the best way to present a theme would be to never use that word.  I did kind of tired of the word "blood," though.  It just felt obvious and, sometimes, lazy.  Until the narrative follows Eli.  Then, it becomes sacred, holy, deadly, a livelihood, and a burden.  I wish just a bit more of the book (or even the [American] movie) would have followed Eli (Abby) and what she feels about her situation.  The books tips her hand slightly, but the movie comes from the innocent(ish) eyes of Oskar (Owen).

Another thing that Lindqvist pulls off very nicely is the innocence of these twelve-year-olds.  It's the kind of approach I expected from Dave Eggers' The Wild Things, but it did not turn out nearly as childish.  Childlike, yes.  Through murders, mysteries, bullying, and overall horrible and terrifying experiences, Oskar and Eli remain children.

Next month (probably):  A Collection of Wednesdays, Amy Gaither-Hayes.