Mint
Here are the movies everyone will bring up when discussing Super 8: E.T.; Close Encounters of the Third Kind; The Goonies; and, only semi-explicably, Jaws. J.J. Abrams wrote a movie about kids and a mysterious sci-fi-tinged event in a small/suburban town, and even got the actual Spielberg to come on board and produce it, so these comparisons are natural. Although I was very excited to see it, I had to admit, in my Friday column, that I can understand why Abrams gets lumped in with the "hack pack" that includes the likes of Michael Bay, Brett Ratner, Stephen Sommers, and McG -- those guys who get first crack at any movie based on a board game or a videogame or another old movie (or at least that was true when those movies made up a mere 55% of studio output and not closer to 80). All of those guys, their primary reference points seem to mostly be other movies. You could make that argument about Steven Spielberg or Quentin Tarantino, too, except they're both such original and purely talented craftsmen that their movies manage to say a lot more than "hey, remember this type of movie?" -- they use (and transcend) the language of pulp to get their characters and ideas across. Abrams has made two movies, Mission: Impossible III and Star Trek, that I like more than anything Ratner, Sommers, McG, or Bay have ever directed, but they are, in the end, two movies that revitalize franchises more than they say anything in an original Abrams voice. His actual TV shows, too, seem like neat ideas he helps usher to air and then passes along to others.
Super 8 seems like it should be right in that wheelhouse: a mashed-up homage to movies Spielberg directed and the Spielberg imitations that Spielberg produced throughout the eighties; it sounds like a potential copy of a copy of a copy. Yet moment for moment, I loved Super 8 more than any movie I've seen so far this year, and I'd like to think it goes beyond his ability to imitate the late-seventies-early-eighties Spielberg. Here's one reason: I'm not that into The Goonies. I enjoyed it as a kid, I enjoy it now (as far as I know), but it's not some kind of immortal classic. It's not Back to the Future. It's pretty much just a lower-rent Spielberg knockoff with a lot less wonder and beauty. So: I know from Speiberg knockoffs. Super 8 is not a Spielberg knockoff. It has clear points of homage to that style of movie, but Abrams writes such vivid characters and relationships, particularly among his pack of twelve-to-fourteen-year-olds who are running around trying to make a zombie movie and wind up investigating a real-life monster attack of sorts. They don't have the screentime of a season of television to develop, but it would be accurate to say I loved watching and listening to these kids nearly as much as I did watching, say, the Freaks and Geeks pilot, which is to say much more than the smart-mouthed hero kids of The Goonies and more like the kids in Stand by Me.
The real-life stuff doesn't sync up with the kids' lives so perfectly as it does in movies like Goonies, where the children are immediately placed at the center of the action. Here, the kids are eventually pretty central to the invasion/attack/whatever it may be, but what they actually accomplish doesn't seem so far out of reach of kids that age; I've read complaints that how they're involved is too coincidental and peripheral, but that fits with the other Abrams monster movie, Cloverfield, which is about following a particular group of characters in a crazy situation, not watching them man up and fight off the aliens (come to think of it, Super 8 also shares some DNA with a much later, much darker Spielberg adventure: the terrorrism-invoking War of the Worlds). So you have a mix of some beautifully shot crazy sci-fi mayhem and a sweet, often hilarious story about these kids, this one kid and his dad in particular, and then they crash together.
Both aspects absolutely delighted me, more or less constantly. It's not quite a perfect movie; there are moments here and there where I would've liked some details to be a little more or less clear (the movie begins with a shot that gives us a lot of information visually, perfectly, and then follows it up with some super-awkward exposition, some of the worst dialogue of the movie; on the other side, I liked that a lot of the monster stuff is kept obscured, but a few key details about the goals and timeline afforded this monster would've gone a long way to meshing the kid story with the sci-fi story). But for the most part, I watched Super 8 unfold with pure enjoyment, as Abrams wrote and/or directed moment after moment that I flat-out loved, the kind of sensation I typically get from Pixar or Tarantino or Rian Johnson. I still don't think of him as some kind of visionary, but compared to his hack-pack peers in this big-Hollywood genre, Abrams has shown remarkable facility in the game of making striking, involving, non-stupid entertainment.
That's what Bay, Ratner, and company seem to be chasing -- the kind of big excitement and big emotions audiences used to get from big Spielberg pictures. For some audiences, they succeed (especially Bay, who has a record of hits similar to Spielberg's). For me, most of them come off as cynical contractors, making those copies of copies of copies without much personality (or in Bay's case, personality that says "I am a truly notable asshole"). Abrams, with Star Trek and Super 8, may not be creating amazing stories from scratch, but he does make loving summer movies a lot easier, at least for a couple of hours.
Super 8 would make a pretty solid family movie for parents sick of an all-animation/all-superhero diet (and I'm just assuming those parents don't have any interest in half-live-action movies about talking animals or sassy tweens), although it obviously hit the 25+ demographic pretty well: me, Marisa, Amanda, Nathaniel, Andrew, Jon, Katie, Kate, Rebecca, and Dave all turned out for the movie, beating bigger-looking summer movies starring X-Men and Pirates (though of course this was not reflected in the box office at large). On the subway Saturday afternoon after catching/enduring (catch-during?) a family-friendly screening of Mr. Popper's Penguins, a family who had also been at the screening was discussing possibly seeing Super 8 the next day and whether it would be appropriate to bring one of their boys, who looked about seven or eight. It was all Marisa and I could do not to jump into their conversation uninvited and say yes! Yes! Take him! He'll probably really like it! But what do we know about that kid? Maybe he was one of the people who broke into spontaenous applause during Mr. Popper's Penguins and would find Super 8 too scary or boring or lacking funny animals.
We were on the train to FeeBQh. I admit we did not stay as long as usual, as it was raining. Other FeeBQhs have dealt with rain, and this was neither the best rain (the time it stormed for twenty minutes or so and then became absolutely gorgeous for the rest of the day) or the worst rain (the time it stormed... well, that's pretty much it, just stormed). This was just sort of damp and cold. But whatever, it was fun! We grilled up some hot dogs and ate some cookies and hung out with various Team Sunset Slope people. Katie throws a good party, rain or not.
Early in the evening, Marisa, Nathaniel and I took shelter and saw The Trip, a Michael Winterbottom movie assembled from a six-episode BBC series about Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon playing "themselves" and taking a tour of some fancy English countryside restaurants and inns. It's a little poky -- I can see how it would play well in twenty-five-minute chunks, but also how it would get wearying when those episodes started adding up to two, three hours -- but mostly very funny, sort of a micro version of the comedian issues Judd Apatow was getting at with Funny People. Basically, if you're interested in the ways that people try to be funny and one-up each other by being funny and feel uncomfortable while doing so, this is a movie for you. It has several of the funniest scenes of the year.
Today we had Potter Brunch I. If it was fun during the Chris Columbus years, imagine how great it's going to be when we get to the good ones!
I have some stuff that I keep meaning to find a way to get rid of. Does anyone want a CD of the fine album Help! by the Beatles? Or a White Stripes t-shirt that is probably an American medium? (It says large but is the smallest t-shirt I own, including some mediums.) I promise I won't kill myself.
What about bagels? Can I mail you some bagels?
Super 8 seems like it should be right in that wheelhouse: a mashed-up homage to movies Spielberg directed and the Spielberg imitations that Spielberg produced throughout the eighties; it sounds like a potential copy of a copy of a copy. Yet moment for moment, I loved Super 8 more than any movie I've seen so far this year, and I'd like to think it goes beyond his ability to imitate the late-seventies-early-eighties Spielberg. Here's one reason: I'm not that into The Goonies. I enjoyed it as a kid, I enjoy it now (as far as I know), but it's not some kind of immortal classic. It's not Back to the Future. It's pretty much just a lower-rent Spielberg knockoff with a lot less wonder and beauty. So: I know from Speiberg knockoffs. Super 8 is not a Spielberg knockoff. It has clear points of homage to that style of movie, but Abrams writes such vivid characters and relationships, particularly among his pack of twelve-to-fourteen-year-olds who are running around trying to make a zombie movie and wind up investigating a real-life monster attack of sorts. They don't have the screentime of a season of television to develop, but it would be accurate to say I loved watching and listening to these kids nearly as much as I did watching, say, the Freaks and Geeks pilot, which is to say much more than the smart-mouthed hero kids of The Goonies and more like the kids in Stand by Me.
The real-life stuff doesn't sync up with the kids' lives so perfectly as it does in movies like Goonies, where the children are immediately placed at the center of the action. Here, the kids are eventually pretty central to the invasion/attack/whatever it may be, but what they actually accomplish doesn't seem so far out of reach of kids that age; I've read complaints that how they're involved is too coincidental and peripheral, but that fits with the other Abrams monster movie, Cloverfield, which is about following a particular group of characters in a crazy situation, not watching them man up and fight off the aliens (come to think of it, Super 8 also shares some DNA with a much later, much darker Spielberg adventure: the terrorrism-invoking War of the Worlds). So you have a mix of some beautifully shot crazy sci-fi mayhem and a sweet, often hilarious story about these kids, this one kid and his dad in particular, and then they crash together.
Both aspects absolutely delighted me, more or less constantly. It's not quite a perfect movie; there are moments here and there where I would've liked some details to be a little more or less clear (the movie begins with a shot that gives us a lot of information visually, perfectly, and then follows it up with some super-awkward exposition, some of the worst dialogue of the movie; on the other side, I liked that a lot of the monster stuff is kept obscured, but a few key details about the goals and timeline afforded this monster would've gone a long way to meshing the kid story with the sci-fi story). But for the most part, I watched Super 8 unfold with pure enjoyment, as Abrams wrote and/or directed moment after moment that I flat-out loved, the kind of sensation I typically get from Pixar or Tarantino or Rian Johnson. I still don't think of him as some kind of visionary, but compared to his hack-pack peers in this big-Hollywood genre, Abrams has shown remarkable facility in the game of making striking, involving, non-stupid entertainment.
That's what Bay, Ratner, and company seem to be chasing -- the kind of big excitement and big emotions audiences used to get from big Spielberg pictures. For some audiences, they succeed (especially Bay, who has a record of hits similar to Spielberg's). For me, most of them come off as cynical contractors, making those copies of copies of copies without much personality (or in Bay's case, personality that says "I am a truly notable asshole"). Abrams, with Star Trek and Super 8, may not be creating amazing stories from scratch, but he does make loving summer movies a lot easier, at least for a couple of hours.
Super 8 would make a pretty solid family movie for parents sick of an all-animation/all-superhero diet (and I'm just assuming those parents don't have any interest in half-live-action movies about talking animals or sassy tweens), although it obviously hit the 25+ demographic pretty well: me, Marisa, Amanda, Nathaniel, Andrew, Jon, Katie, Kate, Rebecca, and Dave all turned out for the movie, beating bigger-looking summer movies starring X-Men and Pirates (though of course this was not reflected in the box office at large). On the subway Saturday afternoon after catching/enduring (catch-during?) a family-friendly screening of Mr. Popper's Penguins, a family who had also been at the screening was discussing possibly seeing Super 8 the next day and whether it would be appropriate to bring one of their boys, who looked about seven or eight. It was all Marisa and I could do not to jump into their conversation uninvited and say yes! Yes! Take him! He'll probably really like it! But what do we know about that kid? Maybe he was one of the people who broke into spontaenous applause during Mr. Popper's Penguins and would find Super 8 too scary or boring or lacking funny animals.
We were on the train to FeeBQh. I admit we did not stay as long as usual, as it was raining. Other FeeBQhs have dealt with rain, and this was neither the best rain (the time it stormed for twenty minutes or so and then became absolutely gorgeous for the rest of the day) or the worst rain (the time it stormed... well, that's pretty much it, just stormed). This was just sort of damp and cold. But whatever, it was fun! We grilled up some hot dogs and ate some cookies and hung out with various Team Sunset Slope people. Katie throws a good party, rain or not.
Early in the evening, Marisa, Nathaniel and I took shelter and saw The Trip, a Michael Winterbottom movie assembled from a six-episode BBC series about Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon playing "themselves" and taking a tour of some fancy English countryside restaurants and inns. It's a little poky -- I can see how it would play well in twenty-five-minute chunks, but also how it would get wearying when those episodes started adding up to two, three hours -- but mostly very funny, sort of a micro version of the comedian issues Judd Apatow was getting at with Funny People. Basically, if you're interested in the ways that people try to be funny and one-up each other by being funny and feel uncomfortable while doing so, this is a movie for you. It has several of the funniest scenes of the year.
Today we had Potter Brunch I. If it was fun during the Chris Columbus years, imagine how great it's going to be when we get to the good ones!
I have some stuff that I keep meaning to find a way to get rid of. Does anyone want a CD of the fine album Help! by the Beatles? Or a White Stripes t-shirt that is probably an American medium? (It says large but is the smallest t-shirt I own, including some mediums.) I promise I won't kill myself.
What about bagels? Can I mail you some bagels?