Zombies: They're all in your head

I like The Walking Dead. I loved Max Brooks' World War Z, even met him and had him sign my copy of the book. I think Robert Kirkman is a great writer. I listened to his interview on Marc Maron's WTF podcast and he was interesting. And he's a talented storyteller who, unlike a whole lot of white men, has no problem writing about black characters, strong female characters, gay characters, any ol' kind of characters you can think of. Awesome.

She can't be hungry, no digestive system ... at all!

Here's the thing about zombies and the entire sci-fi/fantasy premise: It's complete bullshit. When people die, they swell up because of all the microbes and gases in their intestines, sometimes they burst, they smell real bad ... and that's it. Dead is dead. The very absolute end. Period. I've seen dead bodies a couple times in my life. I saw my grandma when I was 15. My aunt and uncle made the faux pas of having her casket left open. She looked well made up, hair neatly combed, slightly plastic and very dead.

Another time I was working in a retirement home for something like four dollars an hour and one of the long-term vegetative geriatrics in the retirement home died. The charge nurse didn't notice for several hours because, well, he never moved and was always asleep. His gurney was wheeled out of his room and into a hallway. His body was covered in a sheet. Aside from the fact his emaciated chest wasn't rising and falling, it wasn't much of a change from his prior state of being.

Dead people are without exception always one thing; very still. They don't get up and dance and they certainly don't rise up and start roaming shopping malls for human flesh.

If you are medically brain dead, you have no lower reptilian brain. You have no desire or compulsion to eat, let alone breathe. You can't see, hear, smell, taste or touch. Sorry Kirkman, zombies can't "smell" fresh human blood.

Prior to AMC's extravaganza, there was a plethora of zombie flicks. Like The Walking Dead, many take liberties with making zombies look as comically gory as possible. Zombies without limbs come out with their teeth gnashing. Zombies without spines slither menacingly toward the protagonist. Even more improbable, zombies without abdomens come lunging out of the dark, hungry for flesh. The trouble is, nothing without a digestive system, along with that all-important nervous system and circulation, has an appetite. Even invertebrates like parasitic worms aren't interested in lunch if you cut them in half in biology class.

I can't write fiction about zombies or any sort of zombie-sponsored apocalypse because some part of me is still a 12-year-old biology student who is gunning for an "A". I understand the basics of biology too well to suspend belief and stop snickering over the silly premise.

 Totally REAL. Complete, absolutely real and occasionally ridden by Vampire Bill.

I would more likely believe in fucking unicorns living wild and free in Narnia or Middle Earth than zombies stumbling after their next "meal".

Now vampires, those I totally believe in.

Olde Raypey Tymes

Somebody get this lizard out of my wig!

I'm coming to this debate five months late, but since I'm reading the books (just started No. 4) I wanted to say something about the controversy surrounding fantasy author, George R.R. Martin's books aka HBO series Game of Thrones.

Completely unfamiliar with this melodrama? Martin began publishing a series of fantasy novels in 1996. He's an obese, old nerd who once wrote for television, was a fan of Tolkien and decided he wanted his own Middle Earth. So Martin came up with Westeros, which is like medieval France with more dismemberment (and rape).

Except he didn't like the way Tolkien, Michael Moorcock, T.H. White and a dozen others wrote fantasy. There was too much swishing of magical swords and not enough actual hacking of limbs with "real" steel swords. Apparently, Martin is a man who knows his Society for Creative Anachronism's jousting rules -- heavy vs. light armor ... (Sorry, I nodded off for a sec). So Martin's world is envisioned with all the vérité of the Dark Ages or maybe the Inquisition. Beheadings and maimings galore!!! This is fantasy for the adults. Westeros is a place where The Lord of the Rings' Frodo-n-Sam would have been court jesters by day and S&M bottoms by night.

Except that wasn't vérité enough, he wanted Westeros to feel like effed up Europe in Olden Tymes and that meant lots of misogyny. The book's narrative voice gleefully details numerous rapes with dated cheesy verbiage.

Of all the prejudices and fears of those times, why'd he pick the monotonous rape and perpetual oppression of women???

The answer's simple. Martin's a former Catholic school boy. There are two kinds of women in the Catholic school boy universe: WHORES and virgins (yee faire maidens). The end. No multi-fauceted characters as deeply flawed as the male characters allowed. In Westeros, you're either a sexless 11-year-old girl or a WHORE. And George Martin loves that word. I counted WHORE eight times on one page in the first novel.

Never mind the fact that in re-imagining a mythic Olde Europe, Martin ineptly leaves out the primary impetus for misogyny -- women weren't allowed to own property or businesses, say 'no' to a marriage proposal, lead mass, etc. -- the Church. The religion that instigated the Inquisition, burned countless Jews, women and "witches", re-wrote the New Testament, demanded exorbitant taxes from lords to build their Liberace-style Vatican, required celibate males for their priesthood ... and the absolute subjugation of women by medieval society. So what's with all the WHORE calling, George, in a pagan society???

Well today, it's titillating for one. It's sexy if you're an overweight, pasty-white nerd to imagine helpless slave girls writhing at your feet. And this hypothetical nerd has envisioned himself as being like Conan the Barbarian, with pecs bloated from steroids, legs like oak trees and a swept back Fabio hairdo (Kal Drogo!).

But I can't blame parochial school for George's fixation on pre-teen virgins. And that's just ... creepy. In one interview he glumly explains how HBO wasn't thrilled that one of the key characters, Daenerys, is just 13 when she's "wed" to a 30-year-old barbarian. So they made her 18. And George was upset that they had to get an actual adult -- a 22-year-old actor -- to play the child bride. (Damn ye censors!).

And all his fans are crying foul because snarky blogger Sady Doyle, and other women writers, are outraged by the rabid misogyny in the books and now the TV show. The argument Alyssa Rosenberg and a dozen others ineptly make is that Things Really Were Like That Way Back When. Well, yeah maybe. And if they still were, Alyssa, you and I wouldn't be sitting at computers debating the merits of a fantasy novel. All us vagina owner would be washing some feudal lord's clothing by hand, dying during child birth or maybe standing on the slave block waiting to be auctioned off to our next owner/husband. I can't wait for the re-enactment at the next renaissance fair!

Is Martin responsible for upholding his imagined characters to some higher standard? Why should he when most other sci-fi/fantasy novelists can't be bothered and their armies of mostly white, mostly heterosexual, mostly male fans are happy to consume their writing while defending any overt sexism and racism as attempts to "keep it real." (Umm, it's pretend, okay?)

But don't make the female characters as flawed and multi-fauceted as any of the dudes and thus empower them to DO SOMETHING! Rather, George (and his ilk) incessantly objectifies them so that they just sit there like inflatable dolls waiting for something to be DONE TO THEM.

Like Sansa. She just sits there, cries a lot and is the negative stereotype of the vapid, helpless, pretty teenager. Likewise Daenerys, the teen queen, who isn't allowed to have a sex life with Jora Mormount or anybody because ... because ... because ... in Martin's eyes she has to stay vaguely virginal or else she'll fall off the misogynistic precipice and into the stereotype of WHORE. And we all know what sexually active, adult women are!!! They're WHORES. They're manipulative, scheming, power-mad, hyper-emotional, duplicitous WHORES. Unless they're like Ygritte -- in which case they pay for their liberation with their lives, 'cos ya know womens is not to be trusted!

Yeesh.

But apparently complaints about Martin's Whore Tourette's Syndrome got back to him, because by book four, he's toned the WHORE-calling down a bit. Now Little homicidal Arya is traveling to distant lands (rather than being kidnapped by every murder/raper in yon Westeros). And Brienne (the Ugliest Woman in Westeros, oh the shame!) is on a horse galloping off to save Sansa (because what the hell else can you do with a one-dimensional female character except tie her to the tracks and then save her over and over?).

Too pretty to raype? Me thinks not.

Meanwhile, even if you like Martin's bloated sentences (Yee Olde Tyme Talk Es Dyfficult, M'Lord) and his endless over-use of adjectives and adverbs (please save me from "waddles") you've got to wonder: why aren't all the boys getting raped or threatened with rape? If Jaime Lannister is that pretty, why haven't any of these barbarous villains bent him over and horse fucked him yet?

And sure there are token gay male characters but they get conveniently killed off before George has to bother fleshing out their characters ala Renley Baratheon (already dead!). Apparently lesbians don't exist in this pseudo early-Euro world.

And what's up with the overt classism? Did George tour the Tower of London and just not get it? Monarchies are bad and democracies are good, right? Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Surely George isn't dragging us through thousands of pages of fantasy just to drop that cliche at our feet? I thought sci-fi/fantasy readers were a tad more sophisticated than that.

Fear not ye not-so-gentle readers of ye tomes. I shall continue to dodge hack sentences and dead-horse adverbs all the way to the end. I want to get to the part where little Arya grows up, has normal sex (not rape!) and sticks her sword so far up one of the misogynistic villain's asses it comes out his mouth.

P.S. Dear HBO, Peter Dinklage is a lot of things: talented, dynamic, hella fun to watch act. But he is not ugly, not by a long shot. Shame on you for casting him as the Ugly Character Standing in for the Ogreish Author.

Dick Lit

I've been in a sci-fi writer's group for over a year and garnered some awesome friends who are eagle-eyed readers, thoughtful critics and open-minded ... normal folk.

Awhile back, I had to temporarily run the writer's group by myself. It was fun at first but after a couple of less-than-great meetings, I started to feel psychically drained.

There's something about the genre of science fiction, aka speculative fiction, which seems to bring a specific type of crazy out enforce. They're almost always white and male and anywhere from Baby Boomer old to Millennial twentysomething.



At the meetings, a predictable scene plays out. A guy (usually wearing mis-matched fleece and khakis) shows up with a slightly creepy smile on his face clutching some tome he has self-published. He'll eagerly tell everyone he spent $5,000 getting it published (an amount equal to a nice used car).

I've yet to see one of these self-published novels that looked good enough that I'd actually pick it up in a bookstore. Usually the cover is glossy, the paperback is over sized and there's some lurid color scheme surrounding a title that over uses all the words they tell you to never use like: space, death, god, stars, love or alien.

Mr. Self Published has brought it to show everybody he's serious about this writing thing, it's not just a hobby! Depending upon his level of crazy, the guy will either tell us the basic plot ("it's about a guy who travels thru time with the help of aliens to rescue the space program from mind-reading CIA agents disguised as runway models"). Or if he's really nuts, he'll smile coyly and tell you it can't be summed up, you must read the entire 750-page doorstop.

During the meetings, we bounce around the room doing an impromptu meet-n-greet where everybody will give their first name, mention what they're reading and what they're working on. Usually Mr. Self Published will interrupt with snarky remarks so the whole process takes twice as long as normal.

About 30 minutes in, maybe while we're talking about "World War Z", Harry Harrison or the next comicon, Mr. Self Published will pick a fight. He'll snicker loudly at the meek college girl who says she loves Terry Brooks and is writing her own fantasy story. Or someone will say something about Ursula LeGuin and he'll pipe in with "Oh, the feminazi ... I mean feminist writer".

Or if he's like the winner I dealt with, he'll take the discussion of post-apocalyptic sci-fi (something both Margaret Atwood and Cormac McCarthy have dabbled in) to interject his theory on human extinction and why using nuclear weapons in the Middle East is a cool idea! The fur will start to fly and then Mr. Self Published will gloat, safe in his delusion of superiority, 'cos ya know, he already wrote a book predicting all this.

These freaks like to attack women authors, even roaring successes like Joanne Rowling.

I have yet to meet one of these trolls who did not use the slur chick lit; which is applied to any novel, play, script or short story ever published by a writer with a vagina. Don't expect Mr. Self Published to actually have read anything by a female author. He's way too busy and women authors just don't interest him! (This includes everyone from Joan Didion to Virginia Woolf). Mr. Self Published and his ilk are the reason why women's literature programs were invented.

I've coined a new phrase for this group of socially stunted bigots. (DISCLAIMER: as usual this applies only to some men, not all 4 billion of you.)

Dick Lit.

I define it as sci-fi or speculative fiction that has several specific elements.

Dick lit must adhere to the uber-geek norms for science fiction already set down by their favorite homophobic, misogynistic authors. It must have a machine, it must involve the hard sciences and it must involve space in some way like the launching of a futuristic space ship (think: erection).

Dick lit must have an average-looking male protagonist who is deeply misunderstood by everyone around him. A hero who everyone has failed to recognize as a genius (every cardboard character Michael Crichton ever invented).

Dick lit must have a female character (nothing but dudes would be gay), possibly extra terrestrial or part cat, who is overtly feminine and exotically beautiful in a sort of dominatrix way but who, weirdly, recognizes the genius in the story's hero and either strives to help him in an appropriately subservient fashion or, works against him since all girls are duplicitous.

At some point in the story, the female character, despite her extraterrestrial-ness or over-powering wiles, will get stuck, lost, arrested, kidnapped, gagged, brain sucked, encased in dry ice or put into a chemically-induced coma. Then, surprise, the misunderstood genius hero will come to her rescue. This will happen because from birth, we are all read stories and taught that women are people whom things happen to and men are people who do things.

Dick lit has to have action because stories where people just sit around and talk are lame, like most books women authors write. Those are just people sitting around and talking, right?

Dick lit can have sex scenes as long as they’re non-sentimental and brief, because damn it, the hero has work to do! He can’t be bangin’ intergalactic babes all day like Capt. Kirk. And there should be some weird distancing aspect to these sex scenes like sex with zombies or sex with She-Rah the raging lesbian from planet nine so if the hero has to break things off with her, it’s okay because he’s not emotionally attached, it was just random humping like on that video game, Grand Theft Auto.

Finally, the hero has either some sort of special power or a special machine for kicking ass (think: getting back at anyone who picked on the author in school).

I strongly urge every female reader and author out there to start using this cool new pop culture term at any given opportunity. Like if your boyfriend starts rambling about Peter Parker’s special powers in Spiderman, interrupt him by saying “Oh, you mean like dick lit!” Or if he begins to rant about how they got the warp drive configuration in the new Star Trek flick wrong, say: “Dude, that’s such a dick lit thing to say!”

Muscadine

I started reading this old historical fiction novel the other night that I've been hauling around for years. I became a fan of the author in my twenties and have read most of his stuff, though my memories of specific plot details are real hazy.

Anyhoo, I was just gonna flip through this 1988 paperback and then toss it on the Get Rid Of pile but, damnit, the author keeps surprising me. He does things with adjectives I don't know how to do. I'm envious.

I came across one phrase the other night that blew me away:
... they fled into the muscadine shadows.

And another: ... the darkness emerald with waking dreams.

There's more: ... the yard swirled with children and ... he took it for its earthing power.

I'm having trouble deciding whether you can commandeer nouns like 'emerald' and force them into adjective work. Is it grammatically correct?

I don't care. I think I'll keep (re-)reading.

Trekkin'

I went and saw "Star Trek" yesterday. I got to the downtown megaplex waaay too early, so bought my ticket and then had to wander and look at all the stuff I couldn't afford and didn't really need.



Anyhoo, the flick was pretty good. Abrams has a knack for gathering casts that have a fair amount of synergy. Zachary Quinto was delish as the new Spock and Chris Pine was surprisingly good stepping into the Spandex of Bill-the-Pregnant-Pause-Shatner. At one point, the actors were doing such a good job feeling out the whole Spock/Kirk bromance I thought they were gonna kiss, like with tongue and everything. Ah well, hopefully in the next installment.

My only complaint: Abrams used the now industry-standard, rapid fire editing. You barely have time to process one scene and the camera is lurching off to show us the next explosion or flying debris, whatever. I know it's the norm now, but I still don't like it.

Ursula Le Guin is right: we're now substituting violence for drama.

B+

BUGGER OFF!

Does anybody else feel stalked by asshats with boomboxes blaring 'CHRISTMAS HITS OF 1997'? The drunk Filipino retirees across the street in the 10-story condo have seen fit to inflict their taste in Xmas classics on all of us tonight. I'm growing to hate living in the city, at least this close to downtown.

Anyway, I went crazy a few days back and did a review of every flick that was released in the U.S. in 2008 that I've actually seen -- this is leaving out a bunch of Holiday Blockbusters like 'Milk' and 'Day the Earth Stood Still'.

Judging from the size of the list, I really should get out more.

My review of 2008 Films:

Cloverfield – what was J.J. Abrams thinking when he backed this silly digital hand-held mess? The best line was when Blonde Unknown Actor No. 2 shrieked "I'm gonna crap my pants!" Now that's comedy. 1 star

Teeth – FINALLY a coming-of-age-getting-laid film where for the first time a girl is not punished for her budding sexuality, her boyfriends are. Okay, the perpetual lopping off of penises is a bit over kill and, of course, it's all a latent gay man revenge fantasy but it's fun. At least they poke a stick at the Jesus freaks and the absurdness of chastity. 3 stars

Rambo – Surprisingly tasteful action-adventure from the man who practically invented the genre and who is really too old to be running through any jungle. The entire crew should have gotten an award for shooting on location in Thailand in 110-degree heat with 95% humidity. It was nice of Sly to throw a humanitarian plug in there about Myanmar err, I mean Burma. 2 stars

Untraceable – I find Colin Hanks MUCH more annoying than his father, but boiling his character alive in a vat of acid was overkill. Sure, make Hanks play the reluctant bottom in a touching gay S&M movie or put him in a faux concentration camp and slap him around a little but don't boil him in acid, that's just gross. 0 stars

The Air I Breathe – What the fuck was this movie about? 40 minutes into it and I'm nodding off while Forest Whitaker sobs and begs a bookie not to kill him. Should I be dozing during this pivotal scene? 0 stars

Definitely, Maybe – Ryan Reynolds is cute, we've already established this. So is Abigail Breslin. But two hours of that much artificial sweetener can be fatal. I loved Reynolds in the edgy "The Nines", so much I own the DVD. Reynolds, ease up on the Splenda, 'kay? 0 stars

Jumper - Hayden Christensen and Jamie Bell flap around the screen via queasy special effects while Samuel L. Jackson plays a Bad MoFo. These special effects films are kind of like Ketamine, two hours of really bright lights followed by amnesia. 0 stars

Charlie Bartlett – Robert Downey Jr. is like wine, he keeps getting better. Anton Yelchin just gets cuter which makes me really angry that "Huff" is no more. But I wonder about a film that paints prescription drug abuse in this country in a playful light. My high school was a nightmare but I survived it sans Prozac and Vicodan. 3 stars

The Other Boylen Girl – Life in 16th century England was tough, even if you looked like Scarlett Johannson and creepy old Woody Allen wasn't stalking you. Fuck the king really well and you get screwed. Fuck the king and don't enjoy it and you still get screwed. What's a corset-wearing girl to do? Best scene hands down: when one of the Boylen girls tries to seduce her own brother and he breaks down in a fit of (possibly fey?) tears. 2 stars

10,000 B.C. – I like the Emmerich brothers and I'm a female film geek. I'd rather see a special-effects-action blockbuster by them any day of the week over the vile Michael Bay. But they should stop trying to give history lessons. It's like watching two German hippie backpackers re-tell the American Revolution after too many beers in a youth hostel in Australia (I actually witnessed something like this once). Repeat after me and my Archeology professor: The ancient pyramids of Egypt were NOT made by slaves Hebrew or otherwise. 2 stars

Paranoid Park – here's a Gus Van Sant film that shows the American teen in his natural element: confused, slightly drunk/stoned and apprehensive about being raped by his manipulative girlfriend. And Johnny Law is breathin' down everybody's neck because of some lame-ass dead security guard. All this when all kids really wanna do is skate, man! 3 stars

Snow Angels – I like David Gordon Green and I loved "George Washington" and "All the Real Girls". "George Washington" had some of the best cinematography I've ever seen. But take Green out of the south and put him in Nova Scotia and he goes blind cinematically. This film is a dreary mess that plunks along way too long. 0 stars

Doomsday – the world has gone to apocalyptic hell thanks to yet another runaway virus. But never fear, Neil Marshall (the UK's answer to Wes Craven) is here to straighten things out via car chases and rock-concert-serenaded disembowelments. Marshall's fun. He did "Dog Soldiers" and "The Descent" where (GASP) female characters get equal time slashing at monsters and being duplicitous. Thank Gawd the split tails don't just lay there and scream for 120 minutes. The Making Of is especially funny to watch as soft-spoken Equity members -- decked out in more faux body piercings than a Marilyn Manson concert – talk about their previous experience working in 'Thee-ah-tar' in the West End. 3 stars

Funny Games – A decent remake of a Euro suspense flick. The always watchable Michael Pitt and "Mysterious Skin" alum Brady Corbet are the nightmare visitors to yuppie couple Naomi Watts and Tim Roth's swank vacation home. The film is productively suspenseful and edgy as the two fledgling psychopaths worm their way into the family and slowly torture them to death. You'll never look at teenage golfers in polo shirts the same way again! 4 stars

21 – Kevin Spacey leads a cast of unknown pretty faces into the oh-so-seedy world of Vegas card counting. It's got sex! It's got money! It's got Spacey! It's dull! 0 stars

Run Fat Boy Run – Watch David Schwimmer chase the elusive vehicle Comedy down the street. Thrill as his fingers graze the bumper a few times before the car speeds off leaving Simon Pegg looking worriedly at Hank Azaria's groin. Listen to Thandie Newton on the Making Of whine about how the only reason she got this job was because she's half black. This from a bulimic, well-paid star who's been described as one of the most beautiful women in the world. Her face has launched a lot of expensive cosmetics and she can actually afford to live in North London. 2 stars

Stop-Loss – Ryan Phillippe is a working-class, buff Texan who wants to be done with his tour in Iraq and back to his 'normal' life of shooting rattlesnakes and drinking Lone Stars. But the Bush Regime is having none of that. The film's watchable, especially Joseph Gordon-Levitt who gets lost behind the celebrity glare of Phillipe's pearly whites and ripped abs. Coming from Kimberly Peirce who made "Boys Don't Cry", the film is strangely neutered. The romantic connections in the story are barely there and Peirce tip toes around issues like spousal abuse and what modern-day war really does to young men's minds. 2 stars

Street Kings – Keanu Reeves is a bad mofo. He's a LAPD cop who "takes out the garbage" for his superiors and then, weirdly, starts to question the morality of this after being assigned a desk job listening to people complain about his coworkers, those corrupt pigs. Oh yeah and Dr. House is in it! But I can't figure out why. 1 star

Chaos Theory – I rented this in the vain hope I'd see some more of Ryan Reynolds washboard abs or maybe a little ass cheek. Alas, this did not happen. You know how it is when you visit friends in your hometown (Vancouver, B.C.) and they BEG you to be in their movie? Well you can't just say 'no', that would be rude. Next time, Ryan, say 'no.' 0 stars

88 Minutes – My STINKER OF THE YEAR AWARD goes to this. Wow, this is a bad movie. Like on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being "Pearl Harbor", this is a 9.5! Yet another Vancouver-pretending-to-be-Seattle setting for Al I'm-68-fucking-years-old Pacino. Pacino plays a 68-fucking-years-old forensic psychiatrist who helps out the cops when he's not banging 20-something bi-sexual co-eds. If a less imaginative writer from the Playboy Channel was crossed with the Wachowski Brothers, you'd get this. And yes the killer was a bi-sexual girl who couldn't stand being out fucked by 68-fucking-years-old Pacino. And you just know those jealous model-pretty faux lesbians who really want to get reamed by grandpa are all over Vancouver. 0 stars

The Forbidden Kingdom – This is a delicious fluffy pork dumpling of a film. Jackie Chan is sweet and funny and Michael Angarano is wonderful as the geeky weakling who obsesses over Kung Fu films. Jet Li is best when he's playing the monkey god, not a mere mortal. The settings are all breath-taking and the story line is so earnest and heartfelt it would be cruel to pick on it. Hell, rent it for the kids. It's good clean fun. 3 stars

Forgetting Sarah Marshall – The whole time I was watching this, I wondered if it was really about Jason Segel's relationship with his former "Freaks and Geeks" co-star, Linda Cardellini? I guess we'll never know. This is like if Judd Apatow's cast ran off with his film equipment for a weekend, smoked some pot, drank blue Hawaiias and made a home movie about the painful trials of boning B-list Hollywood actresses. Russell Brand is the best thing about this film even though he spends half of it with his bum in the air doing ridiculous yoga moves. His character describing a creepy sexual scenario with that awful yob band Oasis is worthy of some laughing out loud. Segel has always been more endearing to me than out-right funny. His sharpest scenes are when we see how Singletons are treated in public places (he gets the crappiest table in the restaurant) and why banging strangers just isn't the same as sex with our Significant Other. I just wish there'd been more of the Dracula with puppets. Now that was original. 3 stars

Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden? – Morgan Spurlock goes to the Middle East and annoys people from Dubai to Tel Aviv. In Tel Aviv he pisses off some cranky orthodox Jews. He even dips his toe into the sands of Iraq and beats us to death with the realization that maybe the deeply tanned people of that part of the world have a reason to be mad as hell at us. 1 star

Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay – This film does more to promote the cause of the deeply tanned people of the Middle East than the 'documentary' above. Once again John Cho and Kal Penn lead us through a maze of frat-boy fart and sex jokes. Our Duo gets in trouble for lighting a bong on a commercial airline (never saw that one coming, dude) and Rob Corddry's dead-on Homeland Insecurity agent goes medieval on their asses. But the ending – where the boys get smoked out by a stoner Pres. Bush – was disappointing. The faux Bush never gives an explanation for why he set up Guantanamo in the first place, only that he's really just like us and just wants to party like all the other frat boys. In a pig's eye! 3 stars

Iron Man – Robert Downey Jr. again at his un-flappable best as the comic book hero who, unlike the Harold and Kumar faux Pres. Bush, actually re-thinks his moral choices and grows a little. Plus he has this really cool suit that he flies around in. 3 stars

Red Belt – This David Mamet film got buried and forgotten in the avalanche of mainstream movies released in 2008 and that is just WRONG. It's good and thoroughly watchable. It's got action and a brain, the way real movies should. Tim Allen is the sleazy Hollywood star who forgets his friends quicker than you can say CAA. Chiwetel Ejiofor is the absurdly noble martial arts instructor who refuses to bow to the commercialization of MMA even when his master instructor does. Emily Mortimer is the broken, screwed-up business woman who sets the whole plot off in an accidental shooting. Because of Mamet's dense, quick dialogue, you shouldn't watch this once. You should watch it twice and remind yourself that martial arts films can be good, grasshopper. 4 stars

The Fall – Tarsem Singh produces a lovely, eye-popping story that takes place in the mind of a little Italian immigrant girl in 1920's Hollywood. Lee Pace does a damn fine job as the broken stunt man who's been paralyzed while working on a Buster Keaton-ish film. Everything about this movie is as awe-inspiring is a gothic cathedral full of stained-glass windows. You're so overwhelmed by the Jungian images you can forgive any tiny plot holes. 5 stars

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian – It takes Disney to sanitize and suck the life out of C.S. Lewis's classic series. Yeah there's centaurs and chatty mice but James McAvoy's weirdly sexy faun is gone and Tilda Swinton makes only a tiny appearance as the White Witch. There's something so grating about Georgie Henley as the littlest of the Pevensies that I wanted to engage in child abuse. I think a weekend with Mommy Dearest would do wonders for her line delivery. And somewhere underneath a Sammy Hagar wig is Peter Dinklage, once again tragically under used. 1 star

You Don't Mess with the Zohan – Adam Sandler is delightful as a former Masad agent who wants to "style and cut hair" and "make the whole world silky smooth." John Tuttoro is fab as his nemesis. Rob Schneider is funny as a cab driver who recognizes the Zohan. Lanie Kazan is comical as one of Zohan's many cougar lovers. Seeing all the Arab and Israeli immigrants crammed into the same dumpy neighborhood in New York makes everybody realize it's a very small world and we all have to try and get along. 4 stars

The Happening – Where does Shyamalan get his pot?! I so want to get hooked up with his ganja dealer. Only a pothead filmmaker could come up with the kooky idea that plants (yes, as in HOUSEPLANTS) are trying to bump off humanity and take over the planet. Be careful what you say around your ficus, it can hear you. 1 star

The Incredible Hulk – Edward Norton is mean, green and determined to make a film with a valid story and moral message. And if he has to kick some studio ass in the process, bring it on! The early shots in this film where we fly over the eternal slums of Rio are amazing and end way too soon. William Hurt sleep walks through another role as the bad guy and father of Liv Tyler's character. Tyler's Betty is so passively written I honestly think they could have used a blowup doll. Once again the female character just lays there while things happen to her and she occasionally screams when tanks blow up. 3 stars

Stuck – Mena Suvari and Steven Rea, the grande dame of 1992's art house flick "The Crying Game", play a deliciously perverse game of cat-n-mouse when Suvari's idiot character mows down Rea's. Then Suvari's character drives home with the down-on-his-luck Rea stuck in her windshield. But Robo Hobo just will NOT die and Suvari's moronic nurse has to come up with a way to dispose of the un-dead bum. Another film that should get a lot more play time in DVD. 4 stars

Hellboy II: The Golden Army – Mexican filmmaker, Guillermo del Toro, takes the audience on a weird wild ride with set designs so complex he probably will have to do one of those expanded Making Ofs with a DVD devoted just to the stunning, mescaline-inspired visuals. But truthfully it's Ron Pearlman's damn hard work that makes this franchise watchable. He's like the Sean Connery of the comic book hero genre. Every punch and smack down of the bad guys is done with a wink and nod to the audience ala Connery's James Bond. Good fun. 4 stars

The Dark Knight – Christopher Nolan makes a very dark Batman come to life in this latest installment of the vigilante myth. All the acting is top notch but poor Heath Ledger so completely embodies the Joker he's mesmerizing to watch. There isn't a hint of the slacker Aussie surfer dude underneath the Joker's manic cake makeup. Ledger did what most actors can only aspire to – he totally submerged his own personality under the character's. 5 stars

Transsiberian – Just when you thought it was safe to go be a tourist in Russia, think again. Emily Mortimer shines as the indecisive American tourist who accidentally does something Very Bad to a Very Deserving Bad Guy setting off a whole lot of Very Bad Russians. Ben Kingsley is fine as his usual bad guy with an ambiguous foreign accent (not new territory for him). I just wish he'd been as overwhelmingly scary as Don in "Sexy Beast", where his performance literally gave me nightmares. Woody Harrelson is too old for his part and so amateurish if his character had just fallen off the train halfway through, nobody would have missed him. 3 stars

Felon – Stephen Dorff of "Blade" and "I Shot Andy Warhol" fame takes on the American penal system as a working-class guy who kills a burglar in a home invasion and gets sent to the Big House. This movie is such a knock off of "Oz" I kept expecting to see Adebisi come swaggering around the corner. Val Kilmer is barely recognizable as a long-time felon who has been walking the political tightrope between the rival prison gangs and the corrections officers for years. Filmmaker Ric Waugh takes an honest stab at a horribly wrong system that instead of rehabilitating turns out parolees more violent than when they went in. 3 stars

Boy A – A UK film adaptation of a novel by Jonathan Trigell tells the story of a young man who has been in a psychiatric prison since his early teens. He gets out and assumes a new identity (sort of like a witness protection program) under the guidance of the always good Peter Mullan playing his case worker. Jack seems like an incredibly likeable, puppy dog-eyed young man but he's haunted by a horrific past. Director John Crowley does seem to paint a sympathetic picture of a former child murderer who actually has a conscience unlike some psychopaths who seem to operate without any remorse. The ending is nice and ambiguous and leaves you wondering what the hell really happened. 5 stars

The X-Files: I Want to Believe – Oh Chris, Chris, Chris! Why did you do this? Was it simply to get back at FOX Studios after the eternal lawsuit? Suffice it to say this simply could have been a two-hour special on the SciFi channel and everybody would have been happy. The first movie was a lot better, possibly because we were all still in love with Mulder and Scully. 1 star

Pineapple Express – Another Apatow-produced gem this time, weirdly, directed by David Gordon Green (yes, he of the moody American South indy films). Seth Rogen and James Franco are in tip-top form and Danny McBride is wildly funny as the verbally rambling dealer in the Dufus Trio. Rogen discovers a dirty cop, a big-time pot dealer and a pissed-off Asian drug gang and then spends most of the movie running from them … even when they're not chasing him. Franco does so many prat falls for laughs I was worried about him. Get buzzed and watch this gem which is better than anything Cheech and Chong every came up with. 4 stars

Tropic Thunder – Eegads, what a mess. Ben Stiller and company try their damndest to turn a lot of entertainment industry- inside jokes into a full two-hour laughfest. The trouble is when Jack Black is playing a whiney drug addict? He's just whiney. And Robert Downey Jr.'s so good at what he does, he is the dude playing the dude. Steve Coogan gets killed off too early to help deliver any real laughs and Danny McBride (of "Pineapple Express") isn't given nearly enough time on camera. Instead there's just these weird drawn out scenes with Stiller goofing on "Apocalypse Now" and "Platoon". Matthew McConaughey's 10-percenter really is funnier than Tom Cruise's freaky producer. 1 star

Let the Right One In – Wow, who knew Sweden could churn out such a tight, provocative film. I don't know if it's re-inventing the vampire genre but it sure pumps some warm blood back into a very tired theme of Making Friends with the Undead. The two child actors are amazingly unaffected in their performances and the setting feels real right down to the dreary, thin-walled council estates the characters live in. 5 stars

Son of Rambow - (this was just released on DVD, came out in the UK last year) is sweet and funny and incredibly inventive. The three child actors are delightful to watch. It's a trippy look inside a 12-yr-old's diary complete with imaginary exploding things. And we get to see how quickly indy film making can lead to The Battle of the Egos ... even in kids. 4 stars

0 stars: utter shite, mate!
1 star: rent if really bored
2 stars: meh, it's watchable
3 stars: definitely watchable
4 stars: should get mentioned at the Oscars
5 stars: It's golden

That ugly monster, Reality

I've been enjoying (weirdly, not as much as I'd like to) being laid off. The pinnacle of my new unemployment has been watching hours of Battlestar Galactica on DVD. It's like crack, more addictive than those fraking Harry Potter tomes. In fact, the show reminds me of the best adult comics I've ever read. You pick up a Brian K. Vaughan book and you have to read it cover-to-cover right NOW, no interruptions.

So maybe it's kizmet (or too many ganja brownies), but I picked up the latest Stranger and right damn there on page eight is an ad for Seattle's annual Emerald City Comicon. And I'm actually 'free' those days and available to go to it. And I actually think I can swing the entry fee. What's weird is Jamie Bamber is going to be there. At first I just thought Bamber was way too toff and really bland. Then I decided bland was the new black and decided I liked him in BSG. He's like a really nice rug that pulls the whole room together.


The new black is bland.

But meet one of these TV celebs in person (along with 500 scary fans)?! Yikes! No way! I hate it when reality intrudes on fantasy and that's what television is. Damn good fantasy. This would be like finding out the way-too-cute guy in the corner office at work, the one you've lusted at from afar? Has halitosis, nose hairs long enough to braid or a weird sexual kink like dressing up in French maid outfits and being spanked. It would be like visiting your favorite aunt in California during a glorious California summer planned with horseback riding and trips to carnivals and accidentally walking in on her while she was changing her colostomy bag. Reality is a rude, earthy business and I try very hard to avoid trucking in it.

Baltar is right to prefer the Caprica 'in his head' to any of the 'real' versions. Who wants reality when you can have fantasy?