Monday, December 26, 2005

Poor poor misunderstood horny giant ape

Saw "King Kong" tonight. Liked it, didn't love it. It was clearly a labor of love, and there's no questioning the commitment or the passion. But there is questioning some of the choices. Now that I have a scotch to drink, and I've played the Steve Miller Band's "Jungle Love" to get it out of my head, here's a few random thoughts:

* Naomi Watts is pretty. Pretty excellent!
* Adrien Brody: Mostly Harmless.
* Three hours, and they couldn't bring several of the plot threads to satisfying (or any) conclusions? Stand by for the five-hour director's cut, or else maybe the two-hour fifteen minute one.
* CGI in general was not awesome; several times it was obvious that people were green-screened. CGI for Kong was, as has been detailed elsewhere, awesome.
* Hey, you know, a stampede of brontosaurs would be pretty impressive all on its own. We don't necessarily need them to be a mobile rugby scrum which then turns to break-dancing.
* Jack Black: not just for comedy anymore.
* The natives; yes, racist. Any culture capable of building and maintaining those elaborate mechanisms of sacrifice-delivery would be capable of getting the fuck OFF the island. And we saw no reason for them to stay, like for example Kong-delivered fresh kills for the big village BBQ.
* Ape versus dino: yeah, that's what opposable thumbs can do for ya, beeyotch!
* When you bring a chick over to your place, you might find that she feels more at home if the bones of your ancestors aren't just lying about in plain sight. Unless she's gothy.
* For as wonderful as Watts is, seriously, somebody should have helped her learn to juggle for real. CGI rocks is Lucas-level indulgent.

...and in a word, that's my summation of the film. It was wonderful in spots, pretty solid overall as an entertainment in that Saturday-serial kind of way. But so very indulgent.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Name-checked on Velcrometer. Sweet.

M. Giant said this, in a recent post about his offspring M. Small (aka Cuter Than Your Favorite Internet Kid)...

Screw the biological clock; the main reason you want to have a kid before a certain age is because you want to be young enough to be able to stand the levels of random cacophony that can burst forth at any moment.

Sigh. I am soooo boned. I already holler "get outta my yard!" at my traditionally-college-age friends, and it's only funny because it's true.

But thanks to, I can now confidently say that what I've suspected for years might be true: I can take back seven years. The calendar might talk some wack-ass jive about me being 35 and a half; but my diet, exercise, and other habits contribute to my being a lot more like 29.

(Between the ears, of course, I'll forever be a precocious 15. Ehhh, whatever. I've learned to accept it.)

SPECIAL BONUS NOTE: Blogger's spell-check applet doesn't recognize 'Velcrometer,' and suggests I replace with a list that's headed by "belligerent." Heh.