Film Pet Peeves

There are quite a few standard movie tricks that come about out of cheapness, sloppiness, or ignorance that truly bug me. They often are such that they cause me to completely drop out of the story being told. We all have these things i'm sure -- especially if you're involved in a field in which the story purports to take place. Some of us have to endure these things in practically any movie.

I'm a biologist by training, and much of what i do and have done involves the auditory and visual identification of wild critters. Because of that i have a keen interest in critters that appear onscreen -- whether real, intended to be real, or intended to be flights of fancy. The problem for me has to do with hearing or seeing something that has no place in the story -- that stops me dead in my tracks. Few movies do it right. The most common error is one made simply of convenience -- we hear the birds of the area singing in the background of a film made on location. When that location is different than the location of the story a disconnect happens. For instance, in one of my favorite films of all time, Rob Roy, the story perfectly handles the highlands of Scotland such that i am totally immersed in the film. Until, that is, Rob ventures into the castle courtyard of the Duke of Argyll. Then, in the background, is tha jawing a Blue Jays and the cooed song of a Mourning Dove, two birds found only in North America. Luckily the film draws me back into the highlands proper after that.

Well, that's my number one pet peeve in the movies. Originally thinking i might become some sort of biological consultant to the film industry i began collecting all the examples i could find (and thousands of recordings of my own). I called these Biospoilers, and have devoted a separate essay to them, and another here, as well as appending a Biospoilers section to any of my reviews for film which i found to have errors, or occasionally did something very right in which i offered my commendations.

But there are other things that bug me as well. So here are some more of those Film Pet Peeves (some of these compiled from a previous blog post):

a) Non-motivated light: The type that makes me most nauseous is that phantom light that spotlights the actors in a car being driven at night. I'd much rather hardly see them with maybe some green dim glow from the meters, than have them bathed in perfectly placed light -- especially for the shotgun rider.

b) Fake labels on cans: This was brought to mind by a scene from The Business of Fancydancing where for the most part just the right tone is set with some incredible set-dressing. Then suddenly we see Mouse making a "bathroom-cleaner sandwich." The problem is the can has a green construction paper wrap on it that looks like, well, a last-minute green construction paper wrap. It takes someone no time at all to create a computer mockup of a label that will prevent rights difficulties -- so why not do it. It is the single major false note in an otherwise beautiful movie.

c) Overuse of/fake handheld camerawork: It seems rather odd doesn't it that in order to get a handheld camera effect folks don't just, voila, hand hold the camera. Instead you get this fluid head camera motion that all too often is so repetitive, cyclical and rhythmic that it creates motion sickness -- i assume it's computer driven, and perhaps is programmed to be random. But it doesn't look handheld -- it looks fake. And i think that's because the computer system has exact frame movement limits. Hands don't have those. Handheld by itself can be overused, but add it to that faux motorized effect and it simply overwhelms -- an example? -- the otherwise outstanding The Bourne Supremacy.

d) CG or overlaid fire effects. Now i suppose someone has managed at some time to do fire well. If so, then i was fooled all right. The issue is, if it's really possible to do it right, why is it done so poorly so often. It's obvious isn't it that fire and explosions are often done with CG because of the potential for injury and damage, and i imagine it's both very expensive and requires lots of paperwork and safeguards. Yet, with the state of CG today you'd think that someone would really become good at this. Instead we get major issues of two types that make most (if not all?) CG fire effects look truly ridiculous. The two issues are ones of density, and ones of scale.

Fire is a bit quirky and random to completely fabricate, so most effects are done with photo overlays, sometimes enhanced (this was done in Jarhead, where they came closer to, but not quite, right). Unfortunately, whoever is doing this uses single flames, photographed and then apparently doesn't consider scale, or is too cheap to match the necessary scale. And single flames are almost always too thin to look like real flames would in nearly any circumstance. So i'm waiting for someone to come up with perfect fire, while much appreciating those directors/ producers who understand it can't be done and make the effort to use the real thing to make it look right.

e) You'd think that someone who would go to great financial expense and extremes of expertise to creat certain CG effects, would know to do it with all the effects, lest we get hodge-podges of perfectly wrought animals mixed with ludicrous crap a la The Chronicles of Narnia.

Set up for a sequel

Greenscreen/Bluescreen

Bad dialects

Blatant foreshadowing

Fake handheld camera

Fake camera jarring

CG birds and butterflies


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Ocean's Twelve (2004)

Ocean's Twelve (2004) [dir. Steven Soderbergh]

Review & Technical Issues
Plaza Theatre, Kerrville, 18 December 2004

12 Deus ex Machinas: Not a full review, not worth the effort.

Okay, i saw it Saturday. It's a decent film, with some cool CGI, a host of newish camera angles, some actors in roles a little out of the ordinary (unless you saw Ocean's Eleven: The Rehash), and some odd plot twists; however, the finale depends so much on so many contrivances that it probably should have been named Ocean's Twelve Deus ex Machinas. Just a huge letdown at the end when you realize that all of what you were watching was to set up a silly fist and switch itself only seen in brief flashback and voiceover. It all felt very cheap and dissatisfying (how about the private conversation to set up the sting, that of course was only a setup for something that's already happened that they were already a part of -- it's kind of like eating a spaghetti dinner, and then discussing with yourself later how you're going to eat a hamburger for the meal you've already eaten -- okay then, you watch it and tell me it's not -- of course, what it was was a device meant purely to set up the audience, and is, perhaps the worst non-parody break of fourth wall i've ever seen). And the penultimate denouement, Tellour's capoeira through the "random" laser field in the museum, is especially disgusting for it's total improbability (of course with CGI lasers added after the dance, how could he possibly be zapped?), and the idea that it's being shown as it's being told in flashback (the explanation might take 20 seconds, the flashback is like five minutes -- i.e., ridiculous). As i said, hardly worth the effort to write about. I'm not recommending it to anyone.

P.s. the Julia Roberts as Tess faking Julia Roberts is neither original nor particularly satisfying, though it might qualify as cute.

Reviews at Rotten Tomatoes

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Santaland Diaries

Santaland Diaries (11 December 2004)
Zach Scott Theatre, Austin, Texas

This Grinch is stealing Christmas (read no further if you want to keep yours safe)

Review
Okay, i try not to give bad reviews. If i think something is that bad i simply don't recommend it or leave it off my favored lists, and waste no time spewing about garbage. There are occasional exceptions - this is one. And the fact that this is a scorching review has less to do with the actual performance than with the situation.

For years i have been watching the abundant reviews and ads for Santaland Diaries at Zach Scott Theatre in Austin. I have often been tempted to drive down just for the show - the reviews are that salivating. But i never managed to make it - the season being what it is. Then one of my favorite Austin actors Martin Burke, the star of SD, bowed out this year to another favorite Austinite of mine, Rob Williams, to even more wildly loving reviews.

I was in Austin for a tight series of interviews and auditions and, while eating across the street from the theatre a couple of hours pre-show, realized i had enough of a gap to catch the show. I quickly sketched out an itinerary, and then headed across Lamar to get a ticket to assure i could get in.

Brief interlude - i am big on privacy, rebelling more and more lately against the onslaught of information prying that goes on daily around us, to us. Why does everyone need so much information? Greed. Now back to our regularly scheduled review.

I approach the Zach box office and say i'd like a ticket for the 5:00 show. Before i could reach into my pocket i was asked for my name. I gave it, but as i was spelling it realized that i really didn't want to be doing so. I know now i shouldn't have. Then i was asked for my phone number. I was silent a moment and then said, "i don't have a phone," which is the truth, but which answer i would have given even were it a lie. A lady sitting in the box office then turned to me and said, across the room, "Sir, we have to have your phone number," thereby accusing me of lying (which was okay since i gladly would've lied anyway, but somewhat unsettling nonetheless). "Why would you need my phone number?" i said. "So we can get hold of you in case there is a problem with the show," she said, lying again. My willing dispersal of my phone number is a license for them to sell me something - probably season tickets. I said, "You know, i drove 2 ½ hours to get here, i'm in town for other reasons and just thought i'd see a show. I just want a ticket. . . (thinking pause) . . . The show is a little over two hours off, and you'll call me if there's a problem?" "Well, sir, if there is a problem we need to get hold of you." "Well, i don't have a phone, which i told you a second ago, no home phone, no cell phone. I do have a work number, but i don't feel it's right to give you that because it's not mine." "Well, we'll need an email address then." "An email address? You know what, i'm not going to drive home, 2 ½ hours away, to check my email, and then drive back here, another 2 ½ hours, and be here in time for a show that's about 2 hours away."

I think she must have sensed that i was about to grab my money back (which i had handed over in the course of the inquisition) and they would lose out on my cash - they are after all a mercenary operation, and she said, knowing they (like all modernly greedy theaters) have a no-refund policy if something should go wrong and they had to cancel the show and i failed to make it home to check my email - she said, "Okay, we'll sell you a ticket, but you have to understand where we're coming from."

Well, no i don't, and sorry it was such a painful moment for you. What it is, is just plain stupid. What a good little obedient theatre should do is realize they are in the entertainment business, that they are trying to show people a good time. More than any advertising or word of mouth or unsolicited email or season-ticket-panhandling phone calls, what makes people come to the theatre is the enjoyment they have had before.

And mine was ruined for the day.

I spent the next two hours getting more and more incensed over what had transpired. So much so that i already knew that if either of those people were around, if i saw either of them point me out to someone else, as in "That's the guy," if there were even the tiniest provocation i would make a scene in that theatre they would never forget. I don't know if i'm a good actor, but i make a good scene. Ask me about it some time.

Luckily, i simply fumed through the show, looking for things to gripe about (and there was plenty).

So, you see my review is more about the theatre. Here's the first of the constructive notes that should always accompany a "professional" review. If the theatre insists on asking for people's names so they can bombard them with solicitations, then fine, do so, do it politely and nicely. Most people these days are oblivious to where all their names show up. Indeed, some people would die to be on Zach Scott's list. But not me. So, if someone says politely and nicely back "no thank you" then there should be no more talk, the cashier hits a nice little default key, hands over the tickets, and everyone is happy. The current homeland security style makes for a bitter patron.

So let's move on. This is a professional theatre. That means people are paid for their performances, and that costs money. Crew costs money. Everything costs money. So expect to pay. I can't say i was overwhelmed by buying a $40 ticket. I had noted in the ads that tickets were $28-40, so i assumed that only good front-area tickets remained. I did the old internal math thing about "How does someone with a family do this kind of Christmas merriment?" But it was not my worry.

Then i got seated. Back row, next to the aisle (maybe that was the premium, just in case i had to upchuck?). I now realized the $28 tickets were for children under 3 and the deaf-blind.
This is theatre in the round too, so i should be treated to it from different angles, at least a fourth of the time directed at me, which ought to make at least $10 of my $40 good for something.

Now, here's where things can get tangled in the review process, and i want to be sure i cover the angles so that i'm fair, and you can judge for yourself. The "show" lasted about an hour and a half. A little on the slim side timewise for a mainstage production, a $40 mainstage production, but i've been entertained for that long and felt fulfilled.

Except that, and some people may not beef at this, the real "show" - that is Santaland Diaries by Dave Sedaris - the show i came to see was 42 minutes long. How, you may ask, do i know this? Well, because when the "show" had been going on for 30+ minutes and there was still no sign of Santaland Diaries i pulled out my watch specifically to time the show (see, i had read in the Chronicle that it was an hour and a half show, and i started to wondering . . .). So i timed it - 42 minutes. The "show" therefore missed qualifying by two minutes for a UIL high school One-act Play. For $40.

Oh yeah, there was another 38 minutes of "show" but this is what it was: Meredith McCall singing a few Christmas carol parodies, followed by Rob Williams doing his world-famous making-a-bologna-sandwich-with-my-feet routine (eat that . . .), followed by the prelude to the "show," a song about masturbation by McCall (who sings beautifully about the wonderful things she can do by hand, while Jason Connor tickles her ivories) that apparently had absolutely nothing to do with Christmas (and was, in fact, pretty much a ripoff of the slam piece "I Am Stalking Myself"). All of this takes place with the actors' backs to me - in fact, the bologna piece i had to watch via overhead projector, which is just as well -- lucky the aisle seat for me. Oh yeah, as you can tell, i was getting in the Christmas mood by then.

So the show starts, i'm quite fully ticked off by now, and in comes Rob Williams, again actually, but sans bologna and pickles this time. Perhaps with a more pleasantly set up experience i might have enjoyed his performance more. He is quite the manic little elf, his delivery is choice, and he plays the yucks well, ad-libbing as necessary. My complaint is that the set is little more than the radio piece as originally done by author Sedaris. That it's delivered in its entirety to the audience, with Williams assuming his own persona in place of Sedaris, rather punctuates this. Is it funny? Yes. Is it Christmasy? Yes. Is it redemptive? Well, not that it has to be, but yes it is. But outside of the singular joy of watching Williams flitter about there is no overriding reason for it to be performed on a stage. More enjoyable? Yes. But more enjoyable for 42 minutes at nearly $1 a minute, no.

Did i mention that McCall at one point comes out the door next to me in the aisle, and the follow spot includes me, and that it is so bright i can't quite gather what's going on, don't know for a moment that she's there next to me, that i'm suddenly lost in that glaring spot with the entire, packed place looking at . . . me? or at least me too? That i feel silly looking at her, so i just sit there staring out. That i wanted to jump up and say, "Hey did any of you other folks hand over your name and phone number to these blokes, and still give them $40 -- or did you guys get a $12 discount for the personal info?" But i didn't. I just took that humiliation the way i'd taken everything else that day . . . and vowed i'd never return.


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