Sententiae Otiosae has migrated to Wordpress.
Please visit my new blog, Sweet Snark, to keep up with the latest postings.
Thanks!
- Brandon
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Random Access Memories
I've probably hyped about Daft Punk's new album more than anybody, but it's now been two weeks since release and I haven't blogged about it until now. What's up with that?
Well, I've been too busy enjoying the album, dammit. It's so good. But that I've listened to it almost nonstop for a while now, I think I can finally post my not-really-a-review/kind-of-a-reaction. I'll go one song at a time.
Give Life Back to Music
The rock intro that repeats throughout blows me away. The first time I listened to it, I expected the song to follow that style for the entire duration. Nope, it quickly cuts into funky Nile Rodgers guitar and punchy bass. Vocoded lyrics mesh with the fresh, organic sounds. It really makes me want to believe that Thomas and Guy-Man are actually androids, getting back in touch with their human origins.
The Game of Love
This has got to be some kind of sequel to "Something About Us." It's got the same sort of sexy background guitar going on and a similar tempo. Even putting aside the lyrics, you'll notice a strong connection between the songs. (Speaking of lyrics, I'm actually not a fan of them in this song. You can kind of tell the singer is French. "Then it was you, the one that would be breaking my heart when you decided to walk away." I dunno, something about that line sounds awkwardly written to me. Might be the overuse of the passive voice, or the use of "would be breaking." Still, it's Daft Punk. Not normally known for their strong lyricism.) I find the song moderately enjoyable right until the steel drums come in. Then it's like, "Holy dang where'd this sweet-ass Jamaica come from?" So tasty.
Giorgio by Moroder
I was prepared to hear Giorgio talk before the song started, thanks to my committed commute aboard the hype train, but I could see how it would throw people off. It's a little weird hearing a 70+ year old man talk about his life where you're used to hearing singing or just instruments. A lot of people say they skip past the speaking part, but I just can't do that. The background music is too funky. But yeah, after the talking stops, the song goes nuts. I love the way the chord progression never really resolves. It builds up like it's going to hop into a major key, then goes right back to minor every time. Everything they add just keeps making it cooler and cooler. First, piano. Then a casanova E-piano/guitar duel that makes me think of an old Monopoly video game. Out of nowhere, an orchestra. All wrapped up with a bass solo and face-melting guitar. It's phenomenal. One of my favorite tracks on the album.
Within
Speaking of favorite tracks on the album, sweet Jesus, "Within." The George Winston style piano intro hooked me from the start, but the whole song is fantastic. I think this is the first time I've actually really enjoyed the lyrics of a vocoded Daft Punk songs. And it wouldn't be the same if anyone other than the robots had sung. There's such a tight connection to Electroma in this song. I don't want to talk too much about it, in case you haven't seen it. Electroma is a fantastic film. Go watch it and then you'll understand why I love "Within" so much.
Instant Crush
This one was an acquired taste. The synthy guitar is really cool, but the lyrics are hard to understand. Not too much of a problem, seeing as I have the CD and vinyl, both of which come with a booklet containing lyric printouts. Well, not a problem until I realize that it's pretty thick poetry. There's a lot to decipher. Too much to write about here.
Lose Yourself to Dance
I found it strange that the one song specifically about dancing wasn't at 120bpm, the standard dancing speed in electronic music. But maybe that's the point - not being standard. This song still has a heavy enough rhythm to dance to. It's just a slower dance. Nile Rodgers and Pharrell Williams take the cake in this song. You don't hear falsetto sounding cool in modern music enough. I love how the, "Come on, come on, come on!" pans from left to right. Sounds like the robots are up on the dance floor, dancing around having fun, but you're sitting there on the couch. They want you to get up and dance with them, and the song really makes you want to do just that.
Touch
People are going to lynch me for this. "Touch" is probably my least favorite song. I mean, I still really like it, but after a few listens, the first two minutes get really old. I'd love it if the song would just start at 1:50. I'm all for the poetic reference to The Phantom of the Paradise, making it a true retribution story for Paul Williams. It's great, really. But it's not fun to listen to every time. I've gotta say, though, that the honky-tonk section makes me super happy. It doesn't sound like Daft Punk at all, but it certainly gets my head bobbing. Overall, I'd say this is a neat song that bizarrely snuck its way onto a Daft Punk album.
Get Lucky
Okay, I can't say much about this any more. We've all heard most of it for ages now. It's sort of the theme song of RAM. (In terms of recognizability, at least. The songs that really convey the meaning of the album most are probably "Give Life Back to Music" and "Doin' It Right.") The extra two minutes raise the song to a whole new level, though. The phrase at 3:18? My God that little arpeggio synth riff is neat.
Beyond
I hate to say it, but this goes along with "Touch" as one of my least favorite songs of RAM. It's not because it's bad by any means; I still really like it. It's just that, like in "Touch," the beginning segment with the orchestra is cool but purely novelty. It's a little annoying hearing it every time when it would be perfectly acceptable to drop the listener straight into the main part of the song otherwise. That, and the lyrics are a little funky again. They would have sounded better with another singer. As it stands, the vocoder sounds a little too harsh. "Close your eyes and riiiissseeee-uh!" Takes me out of the otherwise extremely gentle atmosphere of the rest of the song. I do absolutely love the last two minutes, though. The synth sounds like Tron: Legacy music and I've never heard steel guitar in electronic music before.
Motherboard
Whoo, this is experimental. English horn and flute? What's that doing in my electronic music? The answer is, "Being goddamn brilliant, that's what." I love how the focus sort of shifts between each instrument, sometimes focusing on the winds, sometimes on the guitar, and even sometimes on the scoopy-sounding bassline. The percussion is phenomenal throughout. Very subdued. Again, the synth running throughout the song sounds like it's straight out of Tron: Legacy. In fact, it even sounds like it could be sampled straight from "Son of Flynn." The water sounds really drive home the organic feel of the track, contrasting the title beautifully.
Fragments of Time
Summer driving song right here. That's all I've got to say. Mmm.
Doin' It Right
(Wait, is that wood block? It just keeps on going. Is it going to stop? It's getting a little annoying. No? Actually, I'm starting to like it. Get it, wood block.) Dang, Panda Bear. I was a little wary of Daft Punk's collaboration with this member of Animal Collective, but he sold me with this song. This is really fun to sing along with in the car with the windows down, awkwardly stopping every time someone else rolls by with their windows down because it's hard to sing quietly.
Contact
I'm just going to give a timestamp first-time reaction to this one.
0:01 - Aw man, last song. I don't want it to be over. :(
0:19 - Interesting. Alien life?
0:56 - Ooh, it's really starting.
1:27 - Oof! There's some yummy bass drum.
1:43 - OH DANG. The drums. Oh my god the drums. It's so good.
1:58 - Did the drums just get better without changing at all?
2:15 - They're about to hit me with something big. This is getting tense. Come back, drums! :(
2:45 - Whee, they're back!
3:00 - AHHHHH!
3:15 - AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
4:52 - [no conscious thoughts, but brain function resumes]
5:20 - Am I dead? Did I die? I'm totally dead.
5:35 - Yep. Gotta be dead.
6:20 - ... Whoa.
Good work, Frenchies. Nearly a perfect album.
Jerky
Tonight I realized I hadn't written anything all day, so I asked a friend to give me a prompt.
One man
Must save the world
From beef jerky.
Like hell if I wasn't going to actually try and do something with that. So I did. And here's the result. Warning, some adult language ahead. Hope you enjoy it!
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Writing
And now I'm going to write about writing.
It's weird the way this works. So many of you probably view writing as work or a chore. Some kind of grueling task assigned by a professor just out to make your life miserable. I understand where you're coming from, because I agree with you. Writing is painful. Ask any writer. Dorothy Parker once said, "I hate writing, I love having written."
I don't know how much I agree with that. There's definitely some writing that feels like pulling teeth, but for the most part I actually really enjoy this. Maybe I'm a masochist.
So what is there to my writing? How much planning do I put into what I put onto paper? Do I sit and think for hours about what I want to write, or does it come naturally?
There's definitely a warmup period every time I write. Hell, most nights I lie in bed thinking, "My God, how am I going to be a successful writer? I can't think of anything I could possibly write about now, so how am I going to think of anything later? Maybe I've had my last valuable thought ever. Maybe nothing will ever come out of my keyboard again." That's because I'm cooled down. All I need to get some serious writing done is to sit down and write whatever. It's sloppy and usually sounds stupid, but it gets my gears turning. It's less like turning the whole car on and more like revving the engine to get the heater working faster on a cold winter's day.
Once that heater's pumping, I just go. I'll definitely do some research beforehand if I'm writing an essay for class, but when I'm writing a blog or a story or poetry (which is rare, but I do it) I just churn out whatever my fingers want to write. I'm hardly even thinking about this right now - my fingers are just doing their thing. If I ever get paid to write, the checks need to be made out to, "Fingers of Brandon Rothfusz."
I actually just got finished writing some sort of short story that I started at about midnight. Well, I'm not sure if it's a short story or the first chapter to something. It just sort of happened. I'm pretty excited to see what I make of it, though. It's probably the first work of fiction I've written that I don't feel horribly embarrassed about. It's weird, but I definitely channeled my style in this one.
When I finished with that, I wrote a poem. Don't know where that came from. Like I said, it's rare for me to write poetry. Grade school kind of killed it for me, so I most often resort to prose. But occasionally, the mood will strike me and I'll pump out a little rhymey-wimey thingy. And no, you don't get to read it.
It's almost 5 in the morning now and I'm getting delirious, but I just can't stop writing. I clearly have some sort of sickness. Hopefully, a sickness that can eventually result in some cash.
I don't plan on working at Target forever. Though, if I do earn enough money writing to make a career out of it, I will be buying a Wave. That thing's fun.
It's weird the way this works. So many of you probably view writing as work or a chore. Some kind of grueling task assigned by a professor just out to make your life miserable. I understand where you're coming from, because I agree with you. Writing is painful. Ask any writer. Dorothy Parker once said, "I hate writing, I love having written."
I don't know how much I agree with that. There's definitely some writing that feels like pulling teeth, but for the most part I actually really enjoy this. Maybe I'm a masochist.
So what is there to my writing? How much planning do I put into what I put onto paper? Do I sit and think for hours about what I want to write, or does it come naturally?
There's definitely a warmup period every time I write. Hell, most nights I lie in bed thinking, "My God, how am I going to be a successful writer? I can't think of anything I could possibly write about now, so how am I going to think of anything later? Maybe I've had my last valuable thought ever. Maybe nothing will ever come out of my keyboard again." That's because I'm cooled down. All I need to get some serious writing done is to sit down and write whatever. It's sloppy and usually sounds stupid, but it gets my gears turning. It's less like turning the whole car on and more like revving the engine to get the heater working faster on a cold winter's day.
Once that heater's pumping, I just go. I'll definitely do some research beforehand if I'm writing an essay for class, but when I'm writing a blog or a story or poetry (which is rare, but I do it) I just churn out whatever my fingers want to write. I'm hardly even thinking about this right now - my fingers are just doing their thing. If I ever get paid to write, the checks need to be made out to, "Fingers of Brandon Rothfusz."
I actually just got finished writing some sort of short story that I started at about midnight. Well, I'm not sure if it's a short story or the first chapter to something. It just sort of happened. I'm pretty excited to see what I make of it, though. It's probably the first work of fiction I've written that I don't feel horribly embarrassed about. It's weird, but I definitely channeled my style in this one.
When I finished with that, I wrote a poem. Don't know where that came from. Like I said, it's rare for me to write poetry. Grade school kind of killed it for me, so I most often resort to prose. But occasionally, the mood will strike me and I'll pump out a little rhymey-wimey thingy. And no, you don't get to read it.
It's almost 5 in the morning now and I'm getting delirious, but I just can't stop writing. I clearly have some sort of sickness. Hopefully, a sickness that can eventually result in some cash.
I don't plan on working at Target forever. Though, if I do earn enough money writing to make a career out of it, I will be buying a Wave. That thing's fun.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Contagion, War, and Gatsby
Getting sick feels weird. We all know the feeling, but it's so hard to describe. It's that pre-ache that surges through your veins before any real symptoms arrive. It doesn't hurt, and it doesn't really impact your daily performance, but it's there. Like you can feel some malevolent spirit that just decided to take residence in your body. You've been possessed by a nasty little virus and, though it hasn't begun its assault, you can feel it using your arms, legs, and chest as a staging area.
I seem to have a talent for contracting illness. I'll wake up one morning and feel the preliminary symptoms. It's subtle and for a while I wonder if it's just in my head. So I mentally fight it off, going about my business until the symptoms get worse. Then it's time for the Airborne. I won't let an army a billionth my size defeat me. If I'm going down, I'm going down swinging.
Throughout the day, as I begin to feel a fever coming on, I get a little weird, almost animal. Fists clenched, muscles tightened, short grunts - whatever I can do to psyche myself into somehow vanquishing the plague using sheer willpower. I don't know why this feels effective; it's not like tensed bicep muscles are going to crush whatever battalion has set up a front there. I suppose it helps with morale more than anything. And if there's anything I've learned from playing Total War games, morale is the most important aspect of wartime.
Yesterday followed this pattern for the most part, and toward the end of the day I thought I may have won early in the war. Went to hang out with a friend for a while and we decided to wrap up the day by watching Gatsby.
I've never tripped acid before, but I now think I know what it's like.
Gatsby's visuals are deafeningly loud. Bright colors, quick cuts, awkward pans and zooms. My retinas still haven't forgiven me. It's already a trippy movie on its own, but about a third of the way through, I began to hear klaxon sirens in my head. The enemy has returned, this time with reinforcements. All of my defenses were down; I thought I had already won the war! The virus struck fast and hard, and by the time the movie was only halfway finished, I had become feverish and delirious. This is where the trip began.
This was an opportunistic pestilence. It's as if it knew that my mind had been weakened by the film, so it played this to its advantage. Nearly an hour left in the film. I'd have to sit there sweating, sinking deeper into delirium as Gatsby bombarded me from the outside while the virus attacked from within. No amount of muscle tensing or jaw clenching was going to save me this time. It was a losing battle. I did what I could to enjoy the rest of the film (which I succeeded at, it was a very entertaining movie) but by the end, I was ready to get out of there. We left the theatre and I didn't even feel up to driving myself home. I had to resort to the unthinkable and let my friend drive my car.
I arrived at home, quickly downed some NyQuil, and checked my temperature. 99.6. That's worse than it sounds. Thanks to my dad's genetics, my normal core temperature is 96.8 degrees rather than the usual 98.6. Definitely a 100+ fever. I collapsed into bed, waiting for the drugs to knock me out. I certainly wasn't falling asleep on my own accord. The sheets were too hot, but the air was too cold.
I woke up at 2pm. No symptoms, aside from a fairly gross taste in my mouth. It's over.
Now I'm just thinking about all the other times I've gotten sick. I've been out for days at a time with severe illnesses before, but usually it lasts a day and I'm done with it. One night of sleep and the virus is dead. It's always a trippy experience, too. You know the PBS show Wishbone? About the dog that reads and reenacts old stories? That show will always seem ultra-weird to me because I only remember it airing during the school day. That means I would only watch it when I had to stay home sick. Wishbone isn't the only show like this, it's just the only one I can remember right now.
There's never an end to this story. You ever recover from a sickness and think, "What if that was the last time I ever get sick? What if that's all my immune system needed to fight off everything from now on? That was miserable, so I'm going to do everything I can to stay in shape and be healthy forever."
Nope. Gonna get sick again. And it's going to suck. But I'm an American. Preparing for war is what we do. (Whoa! Political statement out of nowhere!) Now it's time to get stronger and wait for the next time.
I seem to have a talent for contracting illness. I'll wake up one morning and feel the preliminary symptoms. It's subtle and for a while I wonder if it's just in my head. So I mentally fight it off, going about my business until the symptoms get worse. Then it's time for the Airborne. I won't let an army a billionth my size defeat me. If I'm going down, I'm going down swinging.
Throughout the day, as I begin to feel a fever coming on, I get a little weird, almost animal. Fists clenched, muscles tightened, short grunts - whatever I can do to psyche myself into somehow vanquishing the plague using sheer willpower. I don't know why this feels effective; it's not like tensed bicep muscles are going to crush whatever battalion has set up a front there. I suppose it helps with morale more than anything. And if there's anything I've learned from playing Total War games, morale is the most important aspect of wartime.
Yesterday followed this pattern for the most part, and toward the end of the day I thought I may have won early in the war. Went to hang out with a friend for a while and we decided to wrap up the day by watching Gatsby.
I've never tripped acid before, but I now think I know what it's like.
Gatsby's visuals are deafeningly loud. Bright colors, quick cuts, awkward pans and zooms. My retinas still haven't forgiven me. It's already a trippy movie on its own, but about a third of the way through, I began to hear klaxon sirens in my head. The enemy has returned, this time with reinforcements. All of my defenses were down; I thought I had already won the war! The virus struck fast and hard, and by the time the movie was only halfway finished, I had become feverish and delirious. This is where the trip began.
This was an opportunistic pestilence. It's as if it knew that my mind had been weakened by the film, so it played this to its advantage. Nearly an hour left in the film. I'd have to sit there sweating, sinking deeper into delirium as Gatsby bombarded me from the outside while the virus attacked from within. No amount of muscle tensing or jaw clenching was going to save me this time. It was a losing battle. I did what I could to enjoy the rest of the film (which I succeeded at, it was a very entertaining movie) but by the end, I was ready to get out of there. We left the theatre and I didn't even feel up to driving myself home. I had to resort to the unthinkable and let my friend drive my car.
I arrived at home, quickly downed some NyQuil, and checked my temperature. 99.6. That's worse than it sounds. Thanks to my dad's genetics, my normal core temperature is 96.8 degrees rather than the usual 98.6. Definitely a 100+ fever. I collapsed into bed, waiting for the drugs to knock me out. I certainly wasn't falling asleep on my own accord. The sheets were too hot, but the air was too cold.
I woke up at 2pm. No symptoms, aside from a fairly gross taste in my mouth. It's over.
Now I'm just thinking about all the other times I've gotten sick. I've been out for days at a time with severe illnesses before, but usually it lasts a day and I'm done with it. One night of sleep and the virus is dead. It's always a trippy experience, too. You know the PBS show Wishbone? About the dog that reads and reenacts old stories? That show will always seem ultra-weird to me because I only remember it airing during the school day. That means I would only watch it when I had to stay home sick. Wishbone isn't the only show like this, it's just the only one I can remember right now.
There's never an end to this story. You ever recover from a sickness and think, "What if that was the last time I ever get sick? What if that's all my immune system needed to fight off everything from now on? That was miserable, so I'm going to do everything I can to stay in shape and be healthy forever."
Nope. Gonna get sick again. And it's going to suck. But I'm an American. Preparing for war is what we do. (Whoa! Political statement out of nowhere!) Now it's time to get stronger and wait for the next time.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Star Trek Into Darkness Reaction
Reader beware, spoilers here. Enter at your own risk. I'll let you know when I start to get really spoiler-happy, but it might be safe to just not read this at all until after you've seen the movie.
So I saw Star Trek Into Darkness last night. Midnight premiere at 9pm, actually. Dunno how that happened. I'm not much of a movie review kind of blogger, but I needed to get my thoughts out for this one.
I watched the 2009 Star Trek right before seeing this and my God did that enhance the experience. It's like the four years between the two movies never happened. The chemistry between the actors and cinematographic style flowed flawlessly. J. J. Abrams, despite being more of a fan of Star Wars, knows exactly how to handle Star Trek with a modern Hollywood budget. I feel like these two movies alone can turn anyone who hasn't seen a single episode of the original series into a Trekkie. It's exciting, colorful, hilarious, and even got me on the verge of tearing up a couple of times. ("On the verge of tearing up" is pretty much my equivalent of "weeping into my popcorn." I can't cry; perhaps the next time I need to make a super-angsty, digging-into-my-psyche post I'll address that.)
One scene caught my attention for an odd reason. Spock follows Kirk into an elevator from the command deck and the camera is positioned in the back of the elevator so that you can see the door. They ride down to another floor and walk out into a hallway. This is all one shot. I don't know why this excited me so much, but I loved it. It felt like they were really filming aboard the Enterprise. I don't know if there was some CGI magic involved there or what, but it was cool to me. Maybe they actually had an elevator built to bring them down to another set, or maybe the elevator rotated to the other set instead of dropping. However they did it, the seamlessness made me giddy.
Now I'm really going to start talking about spoilers. You've been warned.
Going into the movie, I had NO idea Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch (his full name is too awesome to shorten) was playing Khan. I knew there was some speculation on it, but the last I had heard was some sort of statement that no, he was supposed to be some other villain from the series. So I went to this film expecting nothing to do with The Wrath of Khan. This is going to be my Fight Club. It's the first movie to really catch me off guard with its twist. When he started talking to Kirk about his name, the idea sparked into my head.
No way... He can't be.
"My name..."
Oh my God he's saying it dramatically.
"Is..."
He's about to say Khan. This is happening. Oh my God I don't know if I'm ready for this.
"KHAN!"
At this point I damn near soiled myself. I actually said, "Holy shit!" in the theatre - others can vouch for this. How did I not see that coming!? I don't really remember the dialogue from the rest of this scene because I was too busy giggling like a schoolgirl.
The rest of the movie became a reference to The Wrath of Khan. I'll admit, I haven't seen it, but I know some of the most important parts of it. I loved when Spock hailed Old Spock while Kirk was aboard the Admiral's Dreadnought. Old Spock tells about how he faced Khan once before and defeated him at great cost. This was a definitive acknowledgement of the original series' place in the reboot's lore. Hell, it even subverts the fact that this is a reboot. We find out in the 2009 movie that the timeline split when Spock went through the black hole, but I never really bought that Old Spock was the same Spock from the series until this point. Now that they're talking specifically about the original encounter with Khan, I buy the connection completely.
Now for the tear-jerker scene. Well, one of them. Pike's death was the saddest moment for me, but the big one for most people has got to be (gasp!) Kirk's death. Biggest. Fanservice. Ever. Kirk is stuck in a chamber full of radiation with Spock on the other side of the glass. Straight out of The Wrath of Khan, though with the roles reversed. This scene really solidified the friendship between Spock and Kirk, punctuated by Spock's guttural, "KHAAAAAAN!" Once again, giggling like a schoolgirl.
Overall, Khan was an extremely convincing bad guy. Raw power and intelligence go a long way, especially when coupled with the Grinch smile Cumberbatch has. For a while, I was actually convinced that he might not actually be the main villain. When Admiral Marcus shows up and starts acting like kind of a dick, I started to feel for Khan. He seemed a bit misunderstood. Of course, he betrays Kirk and plunges straight into his savagery, but the writers certainly had me fooled for long enough.
That said, I really wish we had seen more of Khan. (I'm supposed to mention his butt, so I'll shoehorn that in here. I never noticed because Alice Eve is in this movie. Ha haw.) The movie was such a thrill ride that I was actually surprised and a little disappointed when it was over. The final confrontation didn't last very long and didn't seem to have the consequences it should have. Maybe it's just because I'm comparing it to the first movie, where the threat was a bloody singularity in the center of Earth. The danger just didn't seem as serious in Into Darkness, despite Khan being such a formidable enemy. I suppose my only complaint is that the movie was actually too short. During the resolution, I thought for sure Abrams would pull a fast one on me and give a false ending. But nope, a little fistfight between Spock and Khan and the movie's over. Khan goes back into cryo (which I actually liked - you don't always need to kill the villain) and the Enterprise is off to explore the universe again.
I liked it. Hell, I loved it. Into Darkness may have been anticlimactic, but that's probably just because the entire movie itself felt like a climax. Whether you consider yourself a Trekkie or not, you owe it to yourself to see this film.
So I saw Star Trek Into Darkness last night. Midnight premiere at 9pm, actually. Dunno how that happened. I'm not much of a movie review kind of blogger, but I needed to get my thoughts out for this one.
I watched the 2009 Star Trek right before seeing this and my God did that enhance the experience. It's like the four years between the two movies never happened. The chemistry between the actors and cinematographic style flowed flawlessly. J. J. Abrams, despite being more of a fan of Star Wars, knows exactly how to handle Star Trek with a modern Hollywood budget. I feel like these two movies alone can turn anyone who hasn't seen a single episode of the original series into a Trekkie. It's exciting, colorful, hilarious, and even got me on the verge of tearing up a couple of times. ("On the verge of tearing up" is pretty much my equivalent of "weeping into my popcorn." I can't cry; perhaps the next time I need to make a super-angsty, digging-into-my-psyche post I'll address that.)
One scene caught my attention for an odd reason. Spock follows Kirk into an elevator from the command deck and the camera is positioned in the back of the elevator so that you can see the door. They ride down to another floor and walk out into a hallway. This is all one shot. I don't know why this excited me so much, but I loved it. It felt like they were really filming aboard the Enterprise. I don't know if there was some CGI magic involved there or what, but it was cool to me. Maybe they actually had an elevator built to bring them down to another set, or maybe the elevator rotated to the other set instead of dropping. However they did it, the seamlessness made me giddy.
Now I'm really going to start talking about spoilers. You've been warned.
Going into the movie, I had NO idea Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch (his full name is too awesome to shorten) was playing Khan. I knew there was some speculation on it, but the last I had heard was some sort of statement that no, he was supposed to be some other villain from the series. So I went to this film expecting nothing to do with The Wrath of Khan. This is going to be my Fight Club. It's the first movie to really catch me off guard with its twist. When he started talking to Kirk about his name, the idea sparked into my head.
No way... He can't be.
"My name..."
Oh my God he's saying it dramatically.
"Is..."
He's about to say Khan. This is happening. Oh my God I don't know if I'm ready for this.
"KHAN!"
At this point I damn near soiled myself. I actually said, "Holy shit!" in the theatre - others can vouch for this. How did I not see that coming!? I don't really remember the dialogue from the rest of this scene because I was too busy giggling like a schoolgirl.
The rest of the movie became a reference to The Wrath of Khan. I'll admit, I haven't seen it, but I know some of the most important parts of it. I loved when Spock hailed Old Spock while Kirk was aboard the Admiral's Dreadnought. Old Spock tells about how he faced Khan once before and defeated him at great cost. This was a definitive acknowledgement of the original series' place in the reboot's lore. Hell, it even subverts the fact that this is a reboot. We find out in the 2009 movie that the timeline split when Spock went through the black hole, but I never really bought that Old Spock was the same Spock from the series until this point. Now that they're talking specifically about the original encounter with Khan, I buy the connection completely.
Now for the tear-jerker scene. Well, one of them. Pike's death was the saddest moment for me, but the big one for most people has got to be (gasp!) Kirk's death. Biggest. Fanservice. Ever. Kirk is stuck in a chamber full of radiation with Spock on the other side of the glass. Straight out of The Wrath of Khan, though with the roles reversed. This scene really solidified the friendship between Spock and Kirk, punctuated by Spock's guttural, "KHAAAAAAN!" Once again, giggling like a schoolgirl.
Overall, Khan was an extremely convincing bad guy. Raw power and intelligence go a long way, especially when coupled with the Grinch smile Cumberbatch has. For a while, I was actually convinced that he might not actually be the main villain. When Admiral Marcus shows up and starts acting like kind of a dick, I started to feel for Khan. He seemed a bit misunderstood. Of course, he betrays Kirk and plunges straight into his savagery, but the writers certainly had me fooled for long enough.
That said, I really wish we had seen more of Khan. (I'm supposed to mention his butt, so I'll shoehorn that in here. I never noticed because Alice Eve is in this movie. Ha haw.) The movie was such a thrill ride that I was actually surprised and a little disappointed when it was over. The final confrontation didn't last very long and didn't seem to have the consequences it should have. Maybe it's just because I'm comparing it to the first movie, where the threat was a bloody singularity in the center of Earth. The danger just didn't seem as serious in Into Darkness, despite Khan being such a formidable enemy. I suppose my only complaint is that the movie was actually too short. During the resolution, I thought for sure Abrams would pull a fast one on me and give a false ending. But nope, a little fistfight between Spock and Khan and the movie's over. Khan goes back into cryo (which I actually liked - you don't always need to kill the villain) and the Enterprise is off to explore the universe again.
I liked it. Hell, I loved it. Into Darkness may have been anticlimactic, but that's probably just because the entire movie itself felt like a climax. Whether you consider yourself a Trekkie or not, you owe it to yourself to see this film.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Happy Belated Mother's Day
I didn't get the chance to do much for Mother's Day this year thanks to work, but I also had to pretend my birthday was a couple days late. Perhaps I'll just push my entire year back a few days.
My mom's great. Without her, I wouldn't have grown to be the strong, independent woman I am today.
No, that's not right...
Were it not for my mom, the planet we all call home would have been overrun by laser bears many years ago. She single-handedly fought off the-
Ugh, that's not it either. This is difficult.
It really is hard to describe what's so great about my mom. Not because she isn't (which is totally what that sounded like I was saying) but because there are far too many ways in which she's awesome. That's cliché as hell, I know, but I'm serious. It would take me ages to list out everything that's cool about her and I've got to go to bed at some point.
It comes down to this, though: she's always exactly what she needs to be. She's nurturing when I'm feeling sick or down. She's generous when I'm low on cash and food (to the point where I sometimes can't figure out how to eat all the food she gets me before it goes bad; it's great.) She's a total nag when I need an earful of reality. She's a friend I can share my dry, sarcastic sense of humor and rant about the GOP with. She's a helicopter mom that knows exactly when to touch down for a little while. I couldn't ask for better.
Two decades ago, my mom brought me home from the hospital. Her first Mother's Day gift from me was probably something like vomit on the shoulder or a diaper full of sh-t. (Hope you enjoyed that, Mom. Perhaps someday I can give you that again, for old time's sake.) I've always liked how close my birthday is to Mother's Day. We get to celebrate X amount of years, almost exactly, of her putting up with my crap (literally and figuratively) and not dumping me on the street. I dunno how she does it.
Thanks for everything, Mom. Love you. Next year, margaritias are on me.
My mom's great. Without her, I wouldn't have grown to be the strong, independent woman I am today.
No, that's not right...
Were it not for my mom, the planet we all call home would have been overrun by laser bears many years ago. She single-handedly fought off the-
Ugh, that's not it either. This is difficult.
It really is hard to describe what's so great about my mom. Not because she isn't (which is totally what that sounded like I was saying) but because there are far too many ways in which she's awesome. That's cliché as hell, I know, but I'm serious. It would take me ages to list out everything that's cool about her and I've got to go to bed at some point.
It comes down to this, though: she's always exactly what she needs to be. She's nurturing when I'm feeling sick or down. She's generous when I'm low on cash and food (to the point where I sometimes can't figure out how to eat all the food she gets me before it goes bad; it's great.) She's a total nag when I need an earful of reality. She's a friend I can share my dry, sarcastic sense of humor and rant about the GOP with. She's a helicopter mom that knows exactly when to touch down for a little while. I couldn't ask for better.
Two decades ago, my mom brought me home from the hospital. Her first Mother's Day gift from me was probably something like vomit on the shoulder or a diaper full of sh-t. (Hope you enjoyed that, Mom. Perhaps someday I can give you that again, for old time's sake.) I've always liked how close my birthday is to Mother's Day. We get to celebrate X amount of years, almost exactly, of her putting up with my crap (literally and figuratively) and not dumping me on the street. I dunno how she does it.
Thanks for everything, Mom. Love you. Next year, margaritias are on me.
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