Tonight in Zombieland

It has often been said that I hate movies (often said I hate everything, in fact.) But every thousand lifetimes, a movie comes along that I really do enjoy, and that's how people should know that it's worth seeing. As I read that over, I make it seem like I'm some kind of authority, or that I'm the only one who likes a certain movie, and ti sounds pretentious. But I believe that I could be some kind of movie barometer because I do have a discerning eye. So take heed, all ye looking for an enjoyable romp: my thousand lifetimes is up, and Zombieland has come.

My first impression of the trailer was that this movie may have some comedic moments, but it is most probably mindless drivel. Most comedies are, and I got the feeling that most of the funny moments were actually in the trailer and the rest was pretty stupid. I was glad to be wrong on this one. It is not mindless at all. In fact, there are oodles of subtle jokes that I found myself being the only person in the theater laughing at (granted, there were only about ten people there.) There was also a decent bit of character development (especially Woody Harrellson, one of the most underrated actors going), a not-entirely annoying love story, and a good amount of action and violence. Of course, there was some mindless, goofy, stupid humor as well, but that is perfectly acceptable in the small doses that it was worked in. Structurally, I can't think of any flaws. My God, who am I?

Because the villains are (SPOILER WARNING!) zombies, people will compare Zombieland to Shaun of the Dead, which I enjoyed, but yeah, kind of falls into the Mindless area. The writing in Zombieland was way better, as was the acting, and the special effects, and just the overall fun factor. I'd sooner compare it to Army of Darkness than anything else, even though there really aren't that many movies that can compare to this one. Maybe it's because it wasn't a re-make or re-imagining. Maybe because I've lost my taste for heavy dramas and sappy romantic comedies. Maybe it's because I would have made a movie like this if I ever did persue my Hollywood dreams (on my best day, but still... And that's not even me being pretentious. There are jokes in here that totally would have fit in Secret Monkey.) It may be a result of all those things, but I think it's just a good script, some money, and the balls to make an unconventional horror horror/comedy.

See? I don't hate everything.

Halloween Memories

Halloween is kind of a weird day in my mind. When you're a child, it was very exciting. You dress up in a sometimes silly costume and bug your neighbors for candy. Half the time your mother made you wear a jacket, covering up the costume you were so excited about, but you still got candy, so whatever. I don't remember specific Halloweens that much, but one of my favorite memories from childhood is the post-Trick-or-Treating Candy Exchange that would take place at my friend's house, where my cronies and I would gather to trade off the candy we maybe didn't want for stuff we did that was given to someone else. For some reason, no one but me liked the Sweet Tarts. God times.

As I got older, I wanted to hang on to the Trick or Treating as long as I could, so I would find some younger friend to walk around with and still net myself some treats. I thought it was brilliant, but a lot of my peers had given up on the whole thing. I loved it, though, so why stop? Again, no specific memories come to mind, but it was cool to get free candy.

When even my young friends got too old to go Trick or Treating, I finally had to give it up. Eventually, in my early twenties, my girlfriend and I used to dress up to hand out the candy at her house. Plus, we did all the local haunted houses and visited Salem every year. One year we even had a party, and I was Indiana Jones. I don't remember much else, but I'm sure it was fun.

Nowadays, Halloween has become like New Year's, where everyone asks you the next day what you did (and you better have had something to do.) Almost everyone I know dressed up as something to do whatever it was they were doing. I was shocked. Where were all you people when I was thirteen and I was the only one still clinging to the traditions?

I live in an apartment in the city, so no kids ring my buzzer, but I did take a little walk through the neighborhoods of Brookline to get into the spirit. I saw plenty of children (and parents) dressed up and getting candy, and it really warmed my heart (the fact that it was about 70 degrees out didn't hurt. No jackets required. Thanks, climate crisis.) But it was good to see in these cynical, uptight times that kids will still dress up and run from door-to-door demanding treats, and people will still give them. It may be the one day a year that I don't hate children. Of course, I don't have to answer a doorbell every five minutes.

For the adults that I knew that all had "something to do," most of them got dressed up and went to parties, and it wasn't about the candy for them. Granted, for a lot of them it's an excuse to dress like a slut or make a fool of yourself, but still, they are having a good time. I guess that's the only "candy" adults need, really. I mean, as a kid, you rely on Halloween for your candy intake for most of November (at least), but as an adult, if I want some candy, I can just go buy it. What I can't buy is a good time at a party with friends, and the memories that go along with all that (assuming, of course, you do remember it).

With all that in mind, I had a very interesting Halloween memory the other night. I was on my way home in the wee hours, and I hailed a cab. The cab driver, a gruff, middle-aged fellow, told me to sit in the front seat. That was creepy enough, but then he said, "We're gonna get some pussy."

I wasn't sure if he was taking the "trick" part a bit too far. "Okay?"

Then he asked, "Can you talk? Are you good at talking?"

I should have said, "Nope. Sorry," and jumped out then, but I wanted to get home. He proceeds to pick up a girl wearing one of those cloaks that Afgan women wear, and she was covered from head-to-toe. this was obviously her costume, because she was carrying a sign with some sort of political statement on it that I don't recall. She said she lived on the way to my place, so she got in and away we went.

It took Crazy Cabbie two seconds to start hitting on her, even going right for the phone number. I was like, "Dude, she could have two noses under there. You have no idea what's going on." He was undeterred, and soon they were speaking in Arabic to each other, as she said she was a student learning the language. he complimented her on her diction, too. This guy was a real smoothie, and I was wondering why she was talking to him at all, in any language.

I asked if she was a BU student, since she lived in the area, and she said she was. When I mentioned I worked there, she said, "Hey, I know you. You're the A/V Guy at CGS!"

Sigh. Small world. So, we chatted about that for a couple minutes, and soon enough we were in her neighborhood (at least, she said it was good and got out. I'm pretty sure she didn't want either of us to know where she lived.) I decided I had heard enough, too, so I paid the fare and walked the rest of the way. The girl offered me some money, but I felt she had suffered enough, so I refused. I wonder if he ever got any.

It was an odd ride on many levels. For one, I happened to be wearing leather pants, so there was at least a 50-50 chance that I wasn't even interested in women. Second, there were probably thousands of half-naked drunk chicks looking for cabs at that time, so why pick up the girl in the burqa? And to top it all off, she knew who I was?

Now that's a Halloween I won't soon forget.

Yeah... except it's The Predator

That was the response to a friend when asked the question, "Did they have the movie, George?" The answer was most interesting seeing as how we had asked George, the only friend who could drive at the time, to go to the local video store and rent The Terminator. It's a lot like asking, "Did you order the pizza?" and someone responding, "Why yes, except it's Chinese food."

Semantics aside, I myself was not terribly disappointed that my friends and I were forced to watch The Predator that afternoon back in the late-80's. Despite being probably only 13 years-old, I was always allowed to watch R-rated material, and that period saw some classics: Running Man, Robocop, Die Hard and Arnold's "other" sci-fi action flick, The Predator. Sure, James Cameron had started a whole big thing with the first Terminator back in 1984, and we have since been saddled with several horrendous sequels and a short-lived TV series (featuring the most beautiful Apocalypse survivors ever). But The Predator was more than just a violent, summer blockbuster, and maybe I'm just waxing nostalgic because I was 11 when it came out (versus 8 when Terminator debuted, and thus, too young to appreciate the subtleties of Schwarzeneggar's performance), but I'll be damned if Predator isn't a better film.

Let's get this out of the way. Yes, there were horrendous sequels, and let's not discuss the Alien vs. Predator movies at all. I'm only speaking of the original Predator movie, in much the same way that Jaws is discussed very much independently of its ridiculous spawn. Like Jaws, in fact, Predator was directed by an action autuer in John McTiernan. And like Jaws, it's not an excuse to watch people get chopped up (watch the sequels for that.) Predator combines your basic "Most Dangerous Game" scenario with the classic man vs. beast dramatic situation. In this case, however, the "beast" is an alien game-hunter. It's just a way of amping up a classic dramatic situation, but it is made so well that you can see why Predator and Jaws are so good, and all the movies that they spawned are so bad. And it gave us one of the best lines in movie history: "You are one... ugly ... mother-fucker." Beats "I'll be back" all to hell.

While most people remember Arnold, Predator was also introduced the mainstream world to Jesse "the Body" Ventura, future governor and crazy person, and the onscreen debut of screenwriter Shane Black, who apparently was writing The Last Boy Scout while on set (and hopefully improvised all those awesome pussy jokes his character delivers). Arnold himself was still learning his craft (he kind of still is), but it worked here because he was basically the same as the terminator, a soldier with a single mission, only an actual person this time. This works to hide Arnold's shaky acting, and also gives credence to the fact that the Predator had actually met his match. Along those same lines, watching the movie again, it's interesting what a slow pace it cuts. The first sign that anything is amiss at all is when the commandos find their skinned colleagues, and assume it was done by their enemies. Of course, movie-goers who have come to see a horror flick know different, but these are battle-hardened warrior who have seen all manner of scary shit, and they would naturally assume the enemy was responsible. And they take out their frustrations in the movie's sole action sequence. The rest of the film is very deliberate, and downright scary.

In the end, Predator is not a social commentary or a technical marvel. It's s simple premise that has been used before, but with a little twist. Throw in a splash of character development (the friendship between Blain and Mac, the redemption of Dillon), and some cool effects when seeing from he point-of-view of the monster, and you got yourself one fine piece of film-making. Sure, The Terminiator may have more of a cult following, but if you ask me if that's my favorite Schwarzeneggar movie, I must respond, "Yeah... except it's The Predator."