I don’t think this is what the filmmakers intended, but when I see the previews for this summer’s hottest global-destruction disaster film, The Day After Tomorrow, and they ask the rhetorical question “Where will you be?” the only response I can reasonably offer is Well, based on this footage, I guess I will be dead.
I’m not trying to downplay the emotional gravity of yesterday’s verdict against Terry Nichols for the Oklahoma City bombing, but this morning, on NPR, when the father of a woman who was killed in the attack said that the loss was always felt hardest during the holidays, and by holidays he meant Memorial Day, I couldn’t help but think “Memorial Day’s not a real holiday, guy.”
Okay, so when I last left you there was the faint breeze of an impending revolution against Big Brother–in this case, bearing the totally original moniker of “father”–led by none other than Empire of the Sun‘s own Christian Bale who has somehow survived both World War II and III. There are plenty of super crazy twists and turns, as you might have expected, i.e. you expected them so they are not surprising at all, and are, in fact, totally boring and clichÃ©.
But, okay, so in the final confrontation with “father”, Christian Bale kills all these guys with swords** and the only person left between him and his target is Taye Diggs, who sure smirks a lot for someone who feels no emotion. He quickly dispatches Taye Diggs with a sword (thankfully avoiding what would have been the seventy-thousandth overblown, pixellated fight sequence) and you just know that the special effects guys had received their imac in the mail the day before when Taye Diggs turns his profile to the camera and his FACE SLIDES OFF OF HIS HEAD! Boy, the only thing sharper than those swords are those graphics, huh!?! Then there is a fight sequence between Christian Bale and “father” and “Christian Bale” wins. Then there is this overhead shot of Christian Bale standing in a room surrounded by the corpses of the dudes he’s been killing like hotcakes. At this point I literally had to stop the dvd and rewind it and then pause on this overhead shot and then get really close to the tv because there was something that just didn’t seem right…what is that…that…that brown smudge in the middle of the floor? Oh, THAT IS TAYE DIGG’S SLICED OFF FACE!!! I seriously crapped my pants and passed out from laughing so hard, and when I woke up I had a raging haha boner.
**The filmmakers kept trying to use new weapons for each sequence since each sequence was exactly the same Matrix rip-off. The most surprising was when Christian Bale was surrounded by these soldiers with assault weapons and he pulls out his two pistols and hits some button on the grip and nails spring out from the bottom and he starts smashing in their faces with the butts of his pistols and the whole time you are thinking, Wouldn’t shooting them be easier than hitting them with nails? And who would install these spring-activated nails in the butt of a perfectly good gun? to which I’m sure the Equilibrium writer-director–who stays up nights wishing he could be more like M. Night Shyamalan because for some reason no one realizes that M. Night Shyamalan sucks balls–would respond “but those nails are sweet, and he kills people with them and then puts them away!”
klause you are awesome u are the best song writer ever lived and scorpions come back again with that facinating album to the hard rock arena and who can’t see that is blind the album contains a quality music and song writing and klause still have the touch and the voice of the artist and rudolf mathias still having the proffesional guitar style u guys make me wonder u share me the good and bad times i can’t live without ur music u r really unbreakble from sucess to another
Last night, I started watching this movie that I knew was going to be bad but that is, in fact, badder than the baddest of my superbad dreams. This movie, God, I’m almost embarrassed to say it, is called Equilibrium and was released about two years ago. It has Christian Bale in it, who stunned the world by taking the great premise of dragons repopulating the earth–Reign of Fire–and pooping on it while grinning a big grin with his big bearded face.
Anyhow, the thing about Equilibrium is that as a dystopian science fiction movie, the two basic premises upon which it is based are so totally flawed that there is simply no way for the sentient being to suspend his/her disbelief. I believe that an ape who has not yet learned sign language could get some pleasure out of it, but only because he would be given banana peels and a lettuce leaf to play with during the slow scenes.
Premise 1) After World War III, mankind realizes that it could not possibly survive another war with such devastating consequences, and so it localizes the cause of all wars and neutralizes the cause. That cause: human emotion, and the symptom of human emotion: art and perfume. Well, first of all, war is really not caused by human emotion, like, at all. Like not even a little bit of it is caused by human emotion. It’s the result of gigantic geo-political machinations far beyond the control even of our nations’ leaders, but certainly not impacted by the experiences or emotions of normal people. And art is sort of a minor symptom of human emotion, minor compared to, let’s say, crying or yelling. Also, how come in movies like this people are always hoarding copies of Yeats and Beethoven’s fifth? In reality, it would be some fat teenager with a pirated copy of The Simple Life dvd, who put her life on the line because “Paris Hilton is funny, and totally fuckable.”
Premise 2) In addition to destroying all art (and perfume), every member of this new society must inject him/herself twice a day with “equilibrium”, a mind-numbing drug that inhibits all emotion. Now, although this is what A.O. Scott of The New York Times would call “totally fucking retarded”, it is not the part of the premise that bothers me. What bothers me is that if these people lived without any emotion then they would communicate with each other in a totally different way than you or I. So when Taye Diggs says to Christian Bale, “I am a wary person. I’m always expecting the worst,” I am saying “imfuckingpossible.” To be wary necessitates the anticipation of negative consequences, but negative consequences demand fear and/or some kind of emotive response to good or bad. So Taye Diggs is a liar. This happens all throughout the movie, which is one of the major reasons that this is a really really bad movie.
Another reason is that once Christian Bale stops taking equilibrium, because of course someone has to stop taking it and start a revolution or some shit, he saves a puppy from being murdered. Because puppies are contraband in this horrible futuristic nightmare!
Anyway, I’ve only watched the first hour, and I cannot wait to tell you that it ends.
Note to Grammarians: livejournal’s spell-checker tried to correct me for “Taye”, “Diggs”, and “superbad”, but apparently “imfuckingpossible” is spelled correctly.
I think it is high time that one of this country’s many cultural critics and/or media watchdogs finally calls out Asthon Kutcher, Johnny Knoxville, and all those fuckers who created Crank Yankers for not giving The Jerky Boys any credit.
These guys invented making strangers feel uncomfortable for absoultely no reason at all!!!
You may know that President Bush is going to address the nation tonight concerning his clear plan of action for the transfer of power in Iraq, but did you know that he will be addressing the nation with a cut on his lip, and scrapes on his nose, chin, and hand?
What, you ask, did the President of the United States of America do to make himself look like the loser of a barfight? He fell off of a bicycle.
Between his most recent mishap, the time he dropped a dog on its head, the time he fell off of a Segway scooter, and the time he almost choked on a pretzel, I believe George W. Bush is the most Chevy Chase-ish of any American president to date.
Does anyone ever read their horoscope on Yahoo!?
The only thing revealing about Yahoo! horoscopes is how profoundly incomprehensible they are. I’m familiar with the idea of a vague horoscope that allows as many readers as possible to interpret the message to their own liking, but Yahoo! goes the extra mile by actually including contradictory information. “Maybe you will be lucky today, but there is a chance that luck is not on your side.” Shit like that confounds me. Moreover, if you consider Yahoo! horoscopes to be a place for general consultation of the stars, applicable but not particularly tailor-made to your own needs, then sentences like “Bears threaten to eat bulls on the 10th or 11th, and investors may be eyeing the safety nets” should not appear. What the fuck is up with that, Yahoo!? “Bears threaten to eat bulls” doesn’t even make any kind of sense at all.
Now I have to either go express exactly what I’m feeling without fear of others’ reactions, or keep quiet and listen to what people are telling me because they could hold the key to the lock I’ve been struggling to open since the 19th.
It has been suggested, and I’m inclined to agree, that I probably beat out people who have kids for this new job. And I would just like to personally tell those people’s kids that yeah, I’m the one who ruined Christmas this year.
What the fuck are you going to do about it, slim?
The news this morning was blowing my mind.
First off: you may have thought, as I did, that the FDA was a collection of scientists, doctors, dieticians, and elected public officials whose job it was to insure the safety of Americans through regulatory measures governing what we put into our bodies. NO! It is a bunch of rubes who pick their noses and make jokes about “boobies”. I heard the head of the FDA giving a speech to congress concerning the illegal importation of drugs from Canada. Apparently, he showed x-rays of a woman who had taken illegal calcium supplements that had not dissolved properly, and then, in a thick southern accent he said, “basically, she was eatin’ rocks.”
Rocks? Like…like rocks rocks?
“If you took a hammer and ground up these medicines and then did a chemical analysis of them, they would appear the same as American drugs.”
Basically, the point is that the guy is a schill for the pharmaceutical industry, lining his pockets with proceeds from extortionary prices set by Pfizer so that after only five more years they will have enough money to purchase the Southern Hemisphere. From there they will use a vast array of sweatshops and poppy fields to multiply the contents of their coffers at such a rate that the Northern Hemisphere will quickly be subsumed by an unprecedented corporate takeover, and then we will live in the United Planet of Parke Davis.
After the rocks incident, there was a story about the former governor of Oregon and mayor of Portland, Neil Goldschmidt, who, it has recently been uncovered, had an affair with a fourteen year old girl in the 70s. What was interesting about this story was the number of high-ranking officials who stepped forward to argue how much the man has changed, and how the power of redemption and forgiveness must not be underestimated. Now, you know that due to the overwhelming privileges I enjoy as a heterosexual white male of the upper-middle-class I am able to casually dismiss almost any claim of racism and/or sexism brought forth by someone less privileged and less white/male/heterosexual than myself. But the whole time these guys were saying shit like “he’s made amends” I was trying to imagine what would happen to a black or gay politician in a similar situation. I think you might find their rotting carcass enshrined on the city square as a reminder to all of “their kind” just what happens when you incur the white man’s wrath.
I’m sure, though, that Goldscmidt is really really sorry, and knows in his heart that it won’t happen again.