Appreciation: Edward M. Ward (1941-2023)

Summer band camps. Marching band at high school football games in the fall and concerts at area grade schools chomping down on Big Macs at Mcdonald’s during lunch or hot dogs soon afterwards.

Solo contests every spring and concerts in December before Christmas vacation and May before the three-month-long summer break. End of the year pool parties. Even a performance I wanted no part of in seventh-grade school play during the 1982-83 school year which felt like I had signed a contract without actually reading it.

None of this would have happened had I not joined the band at St. Louise de Marillac School (1958-2020)in La Grange Park, Ill in 1980 from fourth to eighth grade when I graduated in May 1984.

St. Louise band directors Ed Ward and Louise Thorson.

The band was under the direction of music teachers Edward M. Ward and Louise Thorson (1952-2018). Of course, we never called them by their first names. We always addressed them as Mr. Ward and Ms. Thorson much the way we called all the teachers there as Mr., Mrs., Ms. or when it came to the nuns “Sister.”

For almost five years my band uniform would be blue slacks, a white shirt, a yellow blazer band jacket and a black tie, if I remember correctly. In 8th grade those ties were called “dickies”. Anyone in my class who had yet to grow up (I’m willing to bet some of them still have yet to grow up four decades later) and whose mind was always in the gutter would laugh when hearing the word “dickie.” The childish way certain classmates I knew who laughed hearing the word (they know who they are) was equivalent to how Joey Tribiani (Matt LeBlanc) would laugh every time Rachel (Jennifer Aniston) said she needed to call her baby’s pediatrician, Dr. Weiner, in “Friends” (1994-2004).

My introduction to the music world, so to speak, began in fourth grade with our class being required to play the flutophone to perform with the band during a spring performance. I don’t remember what made me want to join the band or why but somehow upon meeting Mr. Ward I wound up picking an instrument called the cornet, a fatter version of the trumpet which was the only thing that stood out in terms of appearance. So far as I know the cornet still churned out the same notes as any other, assuming the one playing it can a “play” the music and not the notes.

I’ve said in a couple blogs I wrote about my time at St Louise that a lot if not all the teachers who taught me possessed one trait that made them stand out from the rest. In the case of Mr. Ward and Ms. Thorson I cannot put my finger on just one thing.

I will always remember the glasses he had on those five years. I never saw him with them off until I saw his obituary picture in August this year. He and his wife, Dale, ran The Bandstand from 1973 to 1996 in Brookfield, Illinois where I lived for a time before moving to La Grange Park. I still recall the big sign displayed outside the store near the train tracks in downtown Brookfield that made the place somehow stand out like it was the town staple. The store was also where I oftentimes went to practice during spring break for the upcoming solo contests held every year.

I know many students Mr. Ward taught since 1959 at several schools in the Chicago area will attest to how he always cracked jokes. In my case it’s not his jokes I remember though. I recall his wrath more so than his humor much the way I recall Ms. Thorson being furious at my lousy horn playing during a Thursday rehearsal in seventh grade than anything else.

My first year at summer band camp, Mr. Ward, who not only doubled as being a music teacher but also the camp’s director, introduced himself to all of us students who were from several schools throughout the Chicago area saying, “My name is Mr. Ward. Also known by some as the mean guy.”

Mr. Ward wasn’t lying either. There were a few times at band camp where I saw him disciplining a student. Other times during that week I would hear him storming through the boy’s dormitory screaming at students to stop blaring out their own music and start practicing on the pieces they were going to be playing that Friday morning at Six Flags Great America in Gurnee, Ill.

I won’t deny there were times I was the subject of his wrath throughout those five years. When Mr. Ward signaled with his baton for us all to have horns up to begin playing one Thursday afternoon rehearsal, he immediately said “Horns down” glaring at me telling the band, “We have to wait for Joe Stumpo to get along with the program.”

While practicing for the solo contest in spring 83’ Ms. Thorson complained to Mr. Ward how I developed a bad habit of not keeping my ring finger on the third valve of the cornet. Mr. Ward told Ms. Thorson, acting like as though I wasn’t in the room (but I was) saying “Well maybe we need to either glue or nail his fingers to the cornet then to stop that.”

Anyone else would have taken that comment with less than a grain of salt if he or she even cared. My being 12-years-old at the time, I thought he was serious.

When Mr. Ward asked us band members in the seventh and eighth grade if we wanted to be in the school play during the 82-83 school year called “The Ed Sullivan Show”, I had no idea it’d involve me playing again in a band. I ended up saying yes simply because my other fellow band members said yes and I didn’t want to hear from my parents saying how they heard others in the band joined the play and ask me why didn’t I join them?

I considered the seventh grade school year (82-83) at St. Louise to be my worst alongside fourth grade. The 82-83 school year was when my increasingly negative rebel without a cause attitude ran rampant alienating all the “goodie-goodie” classmates I knew and preferred the company of the bad boys in class who if a teacher looked real closely at their heads of hair they might find the numbers “666” engraved on their skulls. Our 84’ class had the reputation at St. Louise of being the most problematic.

That negative attitude I developed that year showed when it came to my being in the band as I very rarely took the cornet out to practice other than on those weekly Thursday afternoon rehearsals.
 

My solo contest medals.

Of the five solo contests I took part in those five years, 1983 was the year and ONLY year I got third place. I scored first place in the solo contests held in 1980, 81’ and 82’ and then went out with a bang my final year in spring 84’ with yet another first-place medal the year I graduated.

The night of our final performance in late April 1984 a month before we graduated, Mr. Ward recognized us eighth grade band students. I don’t remember what it was I got from Mr. Ward and Ms. Thorson for being in the band except when prior to announcing my name to the audience, he described me as “a quiet man.” He wasn’t far from the truth. It is the quiet people you have to watch out for you know.

Today, whenever I watch the film, "Mr. Holland's Opus" (1995), I find it hard not to be reminded of Mr. Ward watching Richard Dreyfuss playing a dedicated high school band director. Looking back on some of those somewhat uncomfortable times with Mr. Ward and Ms. Thorson on their bad days, I understand now the methods to their madness and why they sometimes got upset with me for not taking the band seriously. Their reasoning is because they wanted us to be as passionate about music and playing in the band as they were teaching us. They wanted us to play to the best of our abilities and they knew full well I along with everyone else were more than capable of doing that.



Which explains their disappointment when they learned I had no plans to join the band at Bishop Lynch, the high school I would be attending in Dallas, Texas in the fall of 1984 freshman year. Little did I know that Mr. Ward’s influence was not just relegated to the schools he taught music in Chicago. His influence extended to Texas when I learned that Joe Cardinale, the band director at Bishop Lynch knew Mr. Ward.

I confess I almost did join the band at BL. My joining the high school band lasted less than the four days George Costanza (Jason Alexander) spent in his job at Play Now in “Seinfeld” (1989-1998). There is even a yearbook picture of me with the band in the Freshman yearbook that proves my two-day involvement.

I would have stayed in the band from 84-88. What turned me off was how I’d be required to show up by 6 a.m. every morning five days a week to marching band practice for the weekly football games and pep rallies. I had enough of marching band practices and performances at band camp playing at Six Flags Great America and at St. Joseph High School in Westchester, Ill. for five years.

I couldn’t take another four years of having to keep up with everyone else marching left and right, having to play the music looking at the small booklets attached to my cornet while trying to pay attention to the conductor. I’ve never been a multitasker. The powers-that-be in my IT helpdesk job I’ve been doing going on 27 years now will attest to that!

The only positive thing I could have gotten out of being with the BL band is gazing at the brigade drill team Friday nights whose over the knee black skirted outfits I found domineeringly sexy (black and white were our high school colors). At one point during the sixty years the high school’s been open the drill team actually wore black low-heeled boots – the kinds one would find worn by a dominatrix before the drill team program went with the white go-go dancer boots.

Just because I didn’t continue my music career in high school so to speak doesn’t mean others didn’t. After posting my blog about the “whiplash” moment I had with Ms. Thorson in 7th grade, class of 84’ alum Michele Santiago (1970-2022) posted a comment on my Facebook page on her playing in the band at Nazareth Academy high school in La Grange Park, Ill.

“I recall competing against St. Joe’s / IHM at State of the Art band competition, and I stood in line with Fenwick / Nazareth while both Mike Alberico and Roger Veome both stared me down with their horns in parade lock position, trying to psyche me out (all of us played baritone for concert band),” Michelle wrote. “Fen/Naz beat St. Joe’s/ IHM in 1987 AND 1988. Yeap— I had major solos both years.”

Many of the of teachers, administrators, priests and nuns I had at St. Louise are now one with “The Force” that include Sisters Petronia, Cresentine, and Julitta, Father Edward Borisewicz (1925-1990), Father John Keating (1934-1998), science teacher and later principal Arlene Fencl (1933-2021), 6th grade teacher Violet Zetlitz (1932-2013), 7th and 8th grade teacher Joyce Allen, Ms. Thorson, Deacon Michael McLynn (1921-2021) and now Mr.Ward.

Their passings (I don’t like using the word “died”) prove how as I’ve gotten older I’m reaching that age where life stops giving us things and starts taking them away. If you don’t realize it now, you will.

In the case of Mr. Ward I do believe one thing is certain. Somewhere among the heavens he is still sharing his passion for teaching music, this time to probably several young angels from grade schools who went before their time. He, and probably along with Ms. Thorson and maybe even Michele are conducting a large orchestra bigger than any of the ones music composers John Williams and Ennio Morricone ever led.

I’m sure Mr. Ward is up there cracking jokes during rehearsals only to be slightly stressed on the day of the big performances the band is set to play that night in front of the Son of God, Saint Peter, the 11 apostles and God himself. No doubt those student angels will wonder who is more stressed. Their fellow band students or Mr. Ward.

In this case I can’t blame Mr. Ward for being stressed out. What band director wouldn’t want to make damned certain his orchestra is playing up to their absolute best especially if the supreme being in the audience happens to be the Almighty?

©10/10/23

Will Ricky Roma's "law of contrary public opinion” be the reason I embrace Indiana Jones' final big screen adventure?

Although I didn’t see “Glengarry Glen Ross” until it came out in 1992 nor had I ever heard of the rule called “the law of contrary public opinion” real estate salesman Ricky Roma, as played by Al Pacino, talks briefly about in the film, I have since applied that belief to almost every sequel/movie franchise I’ve warmly embraced the past 50 years.

The list of sequels I’ve seen dating back to 1973 had disenfranchised fans, Negative Nancys, "The Big Bang Theory crowd", "Nerdville" and every know-it-all wannabee movie critic reaching for the barf bags on their way out the theaters. Or thanks to social media today they held and continue to hold bitch sessions and pissing contests to gullably stupid users who’ve got nothing better to do with their pathetic lives but read and listen to other's one-sided commentaries (assuming they even call them that).

Every time I see that garbage on social media I refer back to a meme I saw years back that said “You remember me asking you for your opinion? Yeah, me neither.”

It’s one thing when the Negative Nancys offer criticism at how disappointed they were in the direction the filmmakers unexpectedly took their beloved movie franchises to. It’s another when all they want to do is bitch for the sake of bitching because like the liberal socialist democratic party we got running this country, they want to make everyone else miserable because they are so miserable themselves and misery loves company.

Hence the reason why I’m paying less than zero attention to all the negative reviews - to which there seems to be many - versus the positive ones (are there any?) of “Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” (2023) - Harrison Ford’s fifth and final big screen adventure as the famous bullwhip wielding archeologist with the brown fedora hat.

When James Hibberd of The Hollywood Reporter asked Harrison Ford in February this year about the backlash “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” (2008) received from critics and fans upon its release 15 years ago, the 80-year-old actor perhaps sarcastically asked Hibberd “Where are they now?”.

“No. I mean, (the critics) were hard on it, but what are they doing now,” Ford said. “I understand. But those were their rules – not (director Steven Spielberg’s and co-writer George Lucas’) rules. They were imposing their rules on what the movie (Crystal Skull) should be. I don’t feel it’s necessary to address those issues. I think that everyone has a right to their opinion. The film was not as successful as we wanted it to be, perhaps. But it didn’t create an attitude or a behavior that carried over into this film (Dial of Destiny).”



To be fair, “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” was not as good as Temple of Doom (1984), Last Crusade (1989) and “Raiders of the Lost Ark” (1981) – (I know it is now called “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark” BUT it will always be “Raiders of the Lost Ark” to me). 

In my three out of four-star 2008 review (three stars meaning good – I DON’T DO GRADE REPORTS) - of the fourth installment which was actually meant to be Ford’s final appearance in the role (at the time of its release there continued to be talk of a fifth one in the works) I called Crystal Skull both nostalgic and formulaic.

In reference to the previous films from the ‘80s I wrote “Watching all three was like getting on a new roller coaster some amusement park just built for the current summer season. Instead of being a thrilling non-stop adventure ride though, Crystal Skull feels like we’ve just returned to those old amusement parks 19 years later, but there are no new rides worth jumping on. Everything done here was done better in the previous three. Alas, this roller coaster ride we get on for two hours inside the dark theater reveals nothing new. We just about know what’s going to be around that next corner.”

The irony is every time the Paramount+ network holds an Indiana jones marathon multiple times a month on any given weekend, I literally cringe as it’s not the first three I want to have on in the background while I'm doing something else. I've gotten to the point having seen the Indiana Jones trilogy so many times the past four decades that like the Star Wars movies which are also shown every few weeks on TNT, I feel I need a ten year long break from both franchises.

The sequels I want aired instead are the ones everyone liked the least. There apparently seems to be some unwritten rule the powers-that-be over at Paramount got in place that says ONLY show the sequels everyone loved like “The Godfather “(1972) and “The Godfather Part II” and the first three Indiana Jones films. “The Godfather Part III” (1990) and Crystal Skull are off limits. Those times when the network does air these much maligned “Black Sheeps” which is a rarity is when most everyone is asleep during the early morning hours.

There is no such thing as the perfect movie franchise. I’ve been saying that since 1999 when fans put director George Lucas on a high pedestal thinking “Star Wars – Episode I: The Phantom Menace” would be just as good, if not better than “Star Wars” (1977). Imagine their intense hatred when they were introduced to Jar Jar Binks and a child actor (Jake Lloyd) who couldn’t act. (Yes! I liked the prequel!)

“Damn you Lucas! You wrecked my childhood!” was no doubt the rallying cry of the Negative Nancys, Nerdville and The Big Bang Theory Crowd at the time and has been ever since.

Those of you who can’t get enough of the Fast and the Furious, Mission: Impossible and Transformers franchises and those “despicable” “theme park” Marvel movies Oscar winning directors Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese spoke of that Disney has no plans to stop churning out, the ball rolls both ways.

I can’t tell you how many sequels and non-sequels (“Everything Everywhere All At Once” (2022), “Elvis” - 2022) I’ve seen that got rave reviews from the know-it-all critics and audiences only to have me instead of wanting to yell “FIRE!” inside a crowded theater the moment the end credits rolled, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “DA FUCK WAS THIS SHIT?!?!?!” so everyone will hear!

Look no further than last summer’s “Top Gun: Maverick” (2022). I am not the only one who didn’t like the over-hyped “requel.” It took me 36 years to see the first one. The only reason I saw the Tom Cruise blockbuster was because I had 80 bucks in AMC gift cards to use which made sitting through the sequel all the less painful.

Just because the Negative Nancys didn’t like how Sofia Coppola’s acting or lack thereof wrecked “The Godfather Part III”, that seeing Capt. Kirk, Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy sing “Row Row Row Your Boat” in “Star Trek V: The Final Frontier” (1989) was not Star Trek, that an Irish toymaker wanted to kill off the nation’s kiddies with cursed masks using witchcraft in “Halloween III: Season of the Witch” (1982) instead of serial killer Michael Myers slaughtering more teenagers and Indiana Jones taking refuge in a fridge from a nuclear blast doesn’t mean others didn’t.

Despite my loathing a few of them, I still watch such atrocities as “The Concorde: Airport ‘79”. “Cannonball Run II” (1984) “Superman IV: The Quest for Peace” (1987) and “Independence Day: Resurgence” (2016) on occasion viewing them as “guilty pleasures” – bad sequels I love to hate. 

It’s all about being entertained you know!

The more negative press I hear that Dial of Destiny is getting the more I’m looking forward to seeing it on June 30 when the film opens nationwide. (John Williams' Raiders theme is playing in my head as I write this and I sadly don’t own the soundtrack which can now only be bought from secondhand sellers on eBay and Amazon).

I get the feeling I’m going to get the same kind of emotional nostalgia I got when I saw Crystal Skull fifteen years ago. Those feelings will be the same kind of memorable moments I had watching the less-than-stellar “Star Wars – Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker” (2019) – in particular, when Ford’s Han Solo returned in a cameo as a ghost to have a very brief father/son chat with villain Kylo Ren (Adam Driver).



Should I wind up embracing “Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” it will be because I happily followed Ricky Roma’s “law of contrary public opinion.”

“If everyone thinks one thing, then I say, bet the other way,” Roma said.

Something of which I’ve been doing since Clint Eastwood’s "Dirty Harry" Callahan took on rogue officers of the San Francisco Police Department fifty years ago in “Magnum Force”.

50 Years of Sequels I Warmly Embraced That No One Else Didn’t 

Magnum Force (1973)

Airport 1975 (1974)

Airport ’77 (1977)

Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)

Smokey and the Bandit II (1980)

Airplane II: The Sequel (1982)

Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982)

Rocky III (1982)

Psycho II (1983)

Return of the Jedi (1983)

Sudden Impact (1983)

Superman III (1983)

2010: The Year We Make Contact (1984)

Conan the Destroyer (1984)

The Jewel of the Nile (1985)

Rocky IV (1985)

The Color of Money (1986)

The Dead Pool (1988)

Rambo III (1988)

Ghostbusters II (1989)

Licence to Kill (1989)

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989)

The Godfather Part III (1990)

The Two Jakes (1990)

The Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult (1994)

Batman Forever (1995)

Escape from L.A. (1996)

Batman & Robin (1997)

Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999)

Jurassic Park III (2001)

Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones (2002)

The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

Barbershop 2: Back In Business (2004)

Ocean’s Twelve (2004)

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)

X-Men: The Last Stand (2006)

Spider-Man 3 (2007)

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008)

Quantum of Solace (2008)

Twilight (2008)

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (2010)

The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014)

Fifty Shades of Grey (2015)

Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens (2015)

Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016)

Now You See Me 2 (2016)

Star Trek Beyond (2016)

Justice League (2017) Joss Whedon cut

Star Wars: Episode VIII – The Last Jedi (2017)

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (2018)

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Rocky IV: Rocky Vs. Drago – The Ultimate Director’s Cut (2021)

Zach Snyder’s Justice League (2021)

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023)?

©6/14/23

My Personal Worst Films: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998)

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas ½«
R, 119m. 1998

Cast & Credits: Johnny Depp (Raoul Duke), Benicio Del Toro (Dr. Gonzo), Ellen Barkin (Waitress), Gary Busey (Highway Patrolman), Cameron Diaz (Blond TV Reporter), Lyle Lovett (Musician at Matrix Club), Christina Ricci (Lucy), Harry Dean Stanton (Judge), Mark Harmon (Magazine Reporter), Katherine Helmond (Hotel Clerk), Tobey McGuire (Hitchhiker). Screenplay by Terry Gilliam, Tony Grisoni, Tod Davies and Alex Cox based on the book by Hunter S. Thompson. Directed by Terry Gilliam.

Most anyone who has had one too many drinks or did drugs probably remembers what the side effects were. I remember being at a party in college once where I downed probably five or more beers for the first time within a couple hours and noticed the room was spinning soon after. The effect is called a “buzz” and from what I can recall, that high lasted about a half hour.

The two lead characters, “gonzo journalist” Raoul Duke (Johnny Depp) and his “Samoan” attorney, Dr. Gonzo (Benicio Del Toro) in "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" take even less time to reach that heightened state of awareness as they down an assorted mess of illegal drugs and alcohol over the course of two hours.

I learned my lesson that night at the party. I started getting dizzy and sick to my stomach within the hour. Before the night was over, I vomited beer all over the women’s restroom in the dormitory. I immediately went to sleep afterwards and in the morning, when I awoke with a massive headache, I downed more than just a couple aspirin tablets. Two friends of mine told me I devoured a hamburger that night in the process. To this day, however, I still think one of them ate it themselves.

I haven’t gotten that drunk since nor have I done any drugs. Though I knew several at the college newspaper I worked at who smoked an occasional joint or two. Some did it more than others.

Granted, I’ll have more than a couple margaritas every once in a while but I don’t see the fun in getting inebriated to the point of passing out. If I had taken as many drugs and drunk as much alcohol as Duke and Gonzo do in "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas", I probably would have become what the Duke asks himself in the film’s first ten minutes if the two of them had “deteriorated to the level of dumb beasts.”

I got almost no enjoyment watching "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas", which is based on real life journalist Hunter S. Thompson’s 1972 novel. I haven’t read it but a friend of mine who did told me the book was hilarious. I’ll admit I probably laughed about ten times while watching the film. A majority of those happened in the first ten or twenty minutes with the final ones occurring almost an hour later. What was funny was Duke’s reactions to certain situations while on drugs. He’d wave his arms wildly using a fly swatter swinging at what he thought were “large bats” flying around their red convertible. Or he’d bob his head back and forth as the windshield wipers were moving only to shrink back in horror the minute a valet hands him a ticket.

I like movies about writers and I kept thinking that somewhere in this picture, there must be a message or something to tell us about drug abuse, maybe a commentary or two about the 1960’s psychedelic generation and why adolescents turned to drugs at the height of the Vietnam conflict. I finally gave up after 30 minutes. The film is instead one big long road trip to nowhere with a soundtrack full of 1960’s and 70’s rock songs from such artists as the Rolling Stones, Tom Jones and Bob Dylan to name a few.

The film doesn’t even fall into the same category as such drug/alcohol dramas like "Clean and Sober" (1988), "Days of Wine and Roses" (1962), "Less Than Zero" (1987) and "When a Man Loves a Woman" (1994) where the lead character either checks his/herself into a rehabilitation clinic over the course of the movie or dies in the end. If "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" qualifies as a comedy, my assumption is it would be only to those who have done as much drugs as the two characters do and experienced such unpleasant side effects I went through getting drunk like vomiting and waking up in the morning, not remembering what happened the night before. Personally, I saw no humor in waking up with a hangover.

The film was directed by Terry Gilliam whose past works ("Twelve Monkeys" - 1995) have combined science fiction and fantasy. Now Gilliam takes us into a dreary, depressing world I don’t even want to visit whether I am sober or not. What’s unbelievable is the script, which apparently needed the help of not just Gilliam, who co-wrote it, but three other screenwriters as well, Alex Cox, Tony Grisoni, and Todd Davies. Every time I see more than one screenwriter attached to a film I immediately start thinking the screenplay may have already been weak to begin with.

Depp narrates practically the entire film in voice-over while his character sweats and stumbles about in light colored sunglasses, grits a cigarette holder between his teeth never taking it out, not even in bed, and speaks in sentences that don’t make a lot of sense. Or they would only make sense to him.

The plot has Duke and Gonzo heading to Las Vegas where the writer is assigned to cover the Mint 400 motorcycle races and later stays to cover a police convention. In almost every other sequence are a lot of pathetic scenes of the duo trashing their hotel rooms and laughing uncontrollably smoking grass and sniffing cocaine, mescaline, blotter acid, ether and “a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers.” All of which is kept in a small suitcase as Del Toro’s Gonzo begins every other line of dialogue with “speaking as your attorney.”

At one point early on, Gonzo sits in a bathtub full of water, half naked listening to Jefferson Airplane, passing gas, and having uncontrollable violent outbursts. While Duke falls asleep in the bedroom, wrapping himself in the American flag, and waking up the next morning with either a Z written in red lipstick on his forehead and a gun in one hand or wearing half of what seems to be a lizard costume with a large tail sticking out of his rear end.

Gilliam directs as though he is in some sort of chemical induced state himself. The hotel carpets move in an assortment of bright colors while the patrons become giant humping lizards with large slobbering tongues. Clouds race across the sky while people’s faces are given close-ups as though they were looking in those twisted carnival mirrors. I could barely recognize any of the cameos, all of whom are just walk-ons and given names like “Hitchhiker” and “Blond TV Reporter” to round out the list of credits.

All of them are targets for Duke and Gonzo to insult like Cameron Diaz as the “blond TV reporter” who meets the two in an elevator. There is also Mark Harmon, who is only recognizable by voice as a magazine reporter since his entire body is covered in dust.

Other stars make humiliating entrances and exits that simply define what actors and actresses will do for money. Christina Ricci, who as a young girl played the dark, torturous daughter, Wednesday, in "The Addams Family" (1991), is now all grown up. Here she plays Gonzo’s supposed love interest whose first scene has her on her hands and knees barking like a dog and biting Duke’s leg the moment he walks in their hotel suite. And Gary Busey plays a highway patrolman whose sequence ends with his character asking Duke to kiss him.

There are others as well like Harry Dean Stanton as a judge, Ellen Barkin as a waitress, and Lyle Lovett as a singer. None of whom I realized were even in the movie until I saw the end credits.

By the time the nightmare ended, I felt like I had sat through a Cheech and Chong comedy from the 1980s in which the famous comedy duo, according to several negative reviews I read, did nothing but drugs. I have never seen one of their movies and have no intention of doing so. Now that I have seen "Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas", I get the gist of what the critics were talking about when reviewing those Cheech and Chong comedies.

I won’t dispute the fact there is a lot of talent here. Gilliam’s done some memorable projects filled with vivid imagination. Depp's best performances are in "Ed Wood" (1994) and "Donnie Brasco" (1997).

I don’t doubt  both will again one day make another good movie. If there is ever a picture for the 1990s that defines what it means to make an ass of one self, however, it is this one.

©4/19/23

My Personal Best Films: Return of the Jedi (1983)

Return of the Jedi ««««

PG, 133m. 1983

Cast & Credits: Mark Hamill (Luke Skywalker), Harrison Ford (Han Solo), Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia Organa), Billy Dee Williams (Lando Calrissian), Anthony Daniels (C-3P0), Kenny Baker (R2-D2), Alec Guinness (Ben Obi-Wan Kenobi), Frank Oz (Voice of Yoda), Peter Mayhew (Chewbacca), David Prowse (Lord Darth Vader), James Earl Jones (Voice of Darth Vader), Ian McDiarmid (Emperor Palpatine), Sebastian Shaw (Anakin Skywalker). Screenplay by Lawrence Kasdan and George Lucas. Directed by Richard Marquand.

1984 Academy Award
Nominations

Best Art Direction
Set Decoration

Best Sound

Best Effects
Sound Effects Editing

Best Original
Music Score -
John Williams

Special Achievement
Award For Visual 
Effects - Winner

Midway through “Return of the Jedi” is a special scene that captures the reactions of the heroes. They are looks of awe, horror and wonder. The same way I felt watching “Star Wars” (1977) and “The Empire Strikes Back” (1980) when first released four decades ago.

The scene happens when the garrulous “golden-rod” droid, C-3P0 (Anthony Daniels) tells a group of cuddly but fierce little teddy bears called Ewoks about his adventures in the past two installments.

The Ewoks have the talking droid’s complete attention as he evokes robotic sounds of shoot outs with the Empire’s Stormtroopers, the battles with the first Death Star in “Star Wars”, the Imperial Walkers and the beauty of Cloud City in “The Empire Strikes Back”, to finally, the deep raspy mechanical breathing of Darth Vader that at one point frightens all the furballs, even the baby ones.

The Ewoks aren’t the only ones amazed by the droid’s dramatic storytelling. The movie’s heroes and heroine whom audiences first met in the ’77 original also seem entranced. They are Luke Skywalker, moisture farmer now turned Jedi Knight played by an older Mark Hamill, Han Solo, the cocky, know-it-all, sarcastic rogue pilot portrayed by Harrison Ford, and Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher), former senator of her now destroyed home planet, Alderaan, turned leader of the Rebel Alliance.

When Han hears C-3P0 retelling the story of him being lowered into the carbon freezing chamber in the second installment, the dreadful memory seems to send a chill up the Corellian smuggler’s spine. Even his Wookie co-pilot, the tall, hairy Chewbacca, grunts a mournful sigh.

The combination of drama, action adventure and humor in “Star Wars” and the dark ominous undertones of “The Empire Strikes Back” are what made fans and perhaps even non-fans want to see those films over again. The second installment made it especially clear the series was not destined to be just another outer space battle between good and evil where the villain wants to take over the galaxy. The plot thickened considerably. Fans knew when the third and final chapter at the time came out in ‘83, a personal struggle would take place between father (Vader) and son (Luke Skywalker) and only one would emerge victorious.

Originally titled "Revenge of the Jedi" a year before its release (creator George Lucas changed the title to "Return" because Jedi Knights don't exact revenge) ”Return of the Jedi”  now goes by the proper title “Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi" and resolves all the things viewers had wondered about for three years since “The Empire Strikes Back” debuted in 1980. I won’t argue in the four decades since its release having seen it several times that what was missing from the third and final installment is much of the awe and wonder I felt watching the first two.

What I got was what Lucas had likely planned on doing since the first one premiered in 1977; making the Star Wars trilogy into a major toy marketing franchise. Lucas and the special effects wizards at Industrial Light & Magic went out with a bang so to speak back then. “Return of the Jedi” was a wonderful, visual toy for the eyes with three times more aliens than we ever saw in the Mos Eisley cantina in the original and technologically advanced special effects and ships that pale in comparison to the $10 million dollar budget Lucas had to contend with in ‘77.

Whereas the first two movies were geared for people of all ages, the third installment seemed to have been made strictly for kids. Aliens are given human characteristics that come in the form of bodily functions. Desert creatures belch after eating something that just crawled past them.

When I  saw the film forty years ago I took note how audiences reacted to the Ewoks who not only got the most laughs (an Ewok smoking a pipe) but also the most “awwww aren’t they cute moments” (a baby Ewok in a basket). If a young kid shed a tear when one of the teddy bears died in battle I doubt the kid would be man or woman enough to admit it. Some of the furballs, who are practically the same size as the midgets from “The Wizard of Oz” (1939), often hit themselves in the face with their own slingshots during battle. There’s even a blooper moment where an Ewok clearly tells another in plain English “That guy’s nice” instead of speaking the alien’s proper dialect of gibberish.

The script by Lucas and Lawrence Kasdan, who also co-wrote the screenplay for “The Empire Strikes Back”, however, never seemed to flow smoothly as a film. Nothing came together until the climax when Luke and Vader duel it out again, this time in front of the Dark Lord’s Emperor (Ian McDiarmid). The old decrepit leader’s pale white face suggested he had either lived on a planet with no sun or had never been outside his royal castle in a long time. The lightsaber duel was mixed with two other chaotic battles; one between rebel and Empire forces in space and one on Endor as rebel and Ewok forces battle the Empire’s troops.

With the exception of the climax, almost every scene before it was plotted like an event or the opening of another chapter. I came to the conclusion “Return of the Jedi” had at least five though no title cards were seen. The film opened with Vader arriving on the Empire’s half completed new Death Star announcing the Emperor will soon be joining them. So ended chapter one.

Chapter two took place on Tatooine, Luke’s home planet, where the heroes rescue Han from his carbonite prison and battle one of the picture’s most interesting creations called Jabba the Hutt; a jolly bloated behemoth slug crime lord with a large slobbering tongue and wagging tail who throws living creatures in his mouth as if he were chowing down on popcorn. All of this slowly took about thirty minutes to wrap up.

Chapter three had the Emperor arriving on the new Death Star. In chapter four, the scene switched to Dagobah where Luke learned the real truth about his family legacy from Yoda (Frank Oz) and the ghost of Ben Kenobi (Alec Guinness). Finally in chapter five, the rebels planned their final assault that lasted over an hour.

Yet despite my complaints, Jedi’s positives outweighed the negatives. There was a lot I remembered fondly. Han, Luke, Leia, the droids and even Darth Vader had at least one or two emotional moments where they revealed their feelings for one another and I was moved by the deaths of Yoda and Vader. I liked how panicked Imperial officers, pilots, and stormtroopers evacuated their posts as the Death Star was coming apart; not one of them noticing or caring that a mortally wounded Dark Lord was being dragged to a shuttle. I loved the Empire’s speeder bikes, which patrolled the forests of Endor that could be the 21st century’s answer to police motorcycles.

When panelists at the Star Wars Celebration in London announced in early April 2023 the film would return to theaters for one week in honor of the installment’s 40th anniversary I felt like Anakin Skywalker battling “The Dark Side of the Force” in episodes I-III (1999-2005). I had the “Dark Side” on one shoulder telling me how great it would be to see the film on the big screen again given the last time I did see “Return of the Jedi” in the theater was in 1997 in honor of the original Star Wars’ 20th anniversary when all three films were re-released as “Special Editions.” Lucas and the visual effects gurus at his company Industrial Light & Magic added new shots to the three films and adjusted others.

In the case of “Star Wars” and “The Empire Strikes Back” the additions were a combination of hits and misses. Some scenes worked. Others didn’t. Ironically the three minutes of additional shots in “Return of the Jedi” made the film better. My rating for Jedi’s special edition went from the three stars I gave the original ’83 version in a review I wrote back in the late 1980s to three and a half stars in 1997.

In the Jedi special edition the second Death Star went out in a blaze of glory with a fiery ring expanding out. The female lead alien music leader of Jabba the Hutt’s band moved more freely and didn’t look as if it was being moved around on invisible string thanks to the computer-generated technology we got now. Bounty hunter Boba Fett flirted with a couple female alien dancers, albeit with his helmet still on. Banthas (alien versions of elephants) were seen grazing on the sands of Tatooine like cows as Jabba’s immense sail barge floated by. Instead of the Sarlacc Pit looking like only a pink vagina with teeth the heroes were about to be thrown into the sand creature now had some sort of giant snake protruding from its mouth.

Whereas the original ’83 version ended with the Ewoks and the heroes celebrating the Empire’s downfall on the Endor forest moon all to the tune of the tribe’s furball “yuck-yuck” song courtesy of Oscar winning composer John Williams’ musical score, the special edition went out on a more dramatic note. As x-wing fighters set off fireworks above the night skies of Endor, planetary celebrations took place on less than a half dozen planets throughout the galaxy. The special edition actually ended on an almost triumphant conclusion versus the ’83 version.

So why am I not choosing to see “Return of the Jedi” on the big screen again on its 40th anniversary release at the end of April? Despite the fact I still have sixty bucks of AMC gift cards to use? (I haven't seen a movie on the big screen since June 2022 and it wasn't because I wanted to). The answer is simple. The “Good Side of the Force”, if there is such a term in Star Wars lore, would be whispering in my ear on the other side telling me “this won’t be the original ’83 version you will be seeing. It will be the ’97 special edition that has aired countless times on the TNT network and Disney plus.”

When Haslab – Hasbro Pulse – a toy company that produces Star Wars toys announced as part of Jedi’s 40th anniversary they would release a three-pack of six-inch figures promoting the versions of Jedi ghosts Ben Kenobi, Yoda and Anakin Skywalker recreating the end scene of the third installment, a user commented on social media how they would prefer they released the ghost version of Anakin as played by actor Sebastian Shaw in the original ’83 edition. They didn't want the Anakin version played by Hayden Christensen whose spirit appeared near the end of episode VI after the release of episodes I-III.

To put it simply, the ’97 special edition is not the version I want to revisit despite the improvements. The ’83 version, for all its flaws is what I prefer to embrace. There has not been a time in the four decades since Jedi's release where feelings of beloved emotional nostalgia didn't creep up inside me. I still recall how audiences cheered when Leia released Han Solo from his carbonite prison. I remember how my sister who is four years younger than me covered her eyes when Luke removes Vader's helmet as she didn't want to see how he really looked under that black mask. Then there's the crowds who waited outside the theaters where Star Wars, Empire and Jedi in '77, '80 and '83 were shown where the long lines went around the blocks and parking lots.

When Carrie Fisher died in 2016 I wrote in a tribute blog how Ross Geller, the fictional character David Schwimmer played on "Friends" (1994-2004) was not the only one whose childhood fantasy was seeing Princess Leia in that skimpy gold bikini outfit collared to Jabba the Hutt. I too, like so many other young boys who began to realize their hormones were starting to kick into overdrive when it came to our interest in girls saw the female character's feisty rebellious heroine from that "galaxy far, far away" as an 80's sci-fi sex symbol.

I was about to start eighth grade when “Return of the Jedi” came out in '83. I was going into second grade when I saw “Star Wars” in August ’77. Jedi’s release not only marked an end, albeit temporarily, to the Star Wars film and toy franchise, but also marked a slow end of my interest in Star Wars overall. Within a year I would be graduating from grade school and would start high school in fall of ‘84 and my interests were about to change. In short, I was on my way into adulthood.

At the time of its release, VHS and Betamax videocassette recorders and laserdisc players were still in their infancy. Blockbuster Video would not become a household name and take over the movie rental industry until the late '80s. The early 1980s belonged to the independent mom and pop video stores. Blockbuster filmmakers like Lucas and Steven Spielberg were still reluctant to release their box office hits like the Star Wars trilogy and "Raiders of the Lost Ark" (1981) on videocassette and laserdisc and only relegating them to the big screens.

When a friend of mine told me he had a pirated copy of "Return of the Jedi" I asked my eighth grade teacher, Mrs. Joyce Allen, who owned two VHS recorders at the time (you were considered rich if you owned two) if she could dub me a copy. The pirated street copy was so bad in picture and sound quality that attempting to record a copy would have been over two hours time wasted. 

I didn't get my hands on a "legal" VHS copy until February 1986 during my sophomore year in high school when Lucas made the film available for both rent and purchase. Those who wanted to spend/and or had $100 bucks to blow that is. That hundred bucks I paid was one of the few times in my life where I felt my work money was well spent as opposed to the hundred bucks I needlessly spent on the high school junior/senior ring I bought the following year only because everyone in my class was getting one. Ironically, I still have that high school ring but every VHS copy I had of the original trilogy released through 2000 are history.

Should the day come where I want to view episodes four, five and six again in the coming years it won’t be the ’97 special editions available on Disney plus and on disc. The original ’77, ’80 and ’83 theatrical versions – all three of which I own that were released on DVD in 2006 but were the laserdisc transfers and are now only available from second-hand sellers on Ebay will be the ones I'll be watching on my 4K player.

The Star Wars franchise today resembles “a spent force” which Merriam-Webster defines “as someone who no longer has the power or influence he or she once had.”

Disney seems intent on making sure every penny of that $4 billion they paid George Lucas in 2012 for Lucasfilm is spent on churning out multiple Disney plus television series and big screen movies in the coming years without barely taking a break to figure out a new way to reinvent itself. I don’t call Disney not releasing a big screen Star Wars film since 2019 a break.

The surprise hits from that "galaxy far, far away" so far have been few and far between (“Rogue One – A Star Wars Story” (2016), “Solo – A Star Wars Story” (2018), “Andor” (2022) while the misses are many (Star Wars Episodes 7-9, “Obi-Wan Kenobi” (2022), “The Book of Boba Fett” (2021) and “The Mandalorian” - 2019) depending on who you talk to. Sure every future made-for-streaming show and big screen movie will all have George Lucas’ name on the credits but they won’t feel like a “George Lucas” creation (dialogue you can write but don't picture yourself saying on camera and choreographed lightsaber battles behind blue screen). I predict the filmmakers and television producers will be playing the notes but not the music.

Mickey Mouse’s running of the franchise today now resembles an unstoppable “Empire” in itself. It wasn’t that way when I saw “Return of the Jedi” in May 1983 back when the installment was called “Return of the Jedi” and not “Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi”.

The way the original trilogy was marketed from 1977 to 1983 felt like what Obi-Wan Kenobi spoke about in “Star Wars” how the Jedi Knights were once the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. The movies didn't feel like "a spent force."

Here on Earth, those were the golden days as Obi-Wan said happened, “Before the dark times…before the Empire.”

©4/12/23

13 columns I've written about mass shootings since 1999 is 13 too many

In memory of the six senselessly lost
in another mass shooting on 3/27/23.

This post marks the ninth blog I’ve written and posted about a mass shooting in this country. 

I wrote and published two others in newspapers about the shootings at Columbine High School in Colorado and at Westwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas in 1999. 

In addition to those columns/blogs I've published since '99 I have two others I started writing about but have yet to finish - one about the 2018 Parkland and the other on last year’s 2022 Uvalde school shootings. 

Should I one day get to finish writing those blogs that will bring the total number of columns/posts to 13.

That’s 13 too many!

Back in January this year I asked the question on social media how long it will be before the mass murderer is a woman. For decades the profile of a mass murderer was a white male - some of whom were married with children, had current or previous relationships with significant others, and whose ages ranged from the mid-20s to early 60s before going off the deep end.

Since '99, the ages of mass shooters have been younger, and their nationalities are no longer relegated to white males. Recent mass shootings over the past few months were committed by men of African American, Asian and of Hispanic/and or Latino descent.

Now with The Covenant School, a private Presbyterian parochial school located in Nashville, Tenn, that left six dead – three of them age nine the latest mass murderer is now a woman who identified herself as transgendered. (AND NO, I WILL NOT NAME HER/HIM)!

My ominous prophecy came true on March 27, 2023, in a couple ways.

Up until the latest tragedy, I’ve always believed the safest place for parents to send their kids to is a private school. I’ve always believed mass shootings rarely occur at private schools, if ever and if they do, they rarely make national headlines due to the low body count. They’ve always happened at public schools.

If the actions of the Nashville “gunwoman” who shot her way into the glass locked doors at The Covenant School proved anything as captured by the surveillance cameras it is that it doesn’t matter how many security procedures a school district has in place to stop a mass murderer. It doesn’t matter anymore if the district hires licensed police officers or asks that all teachers and staff become registered gun owners with a license to carry a firearm.

'It's a horrible, horrible situation, and we're not going to fix it,' GOP Tennessee congressman Tim Burchett told Fox News earlier this week. “Criminals are going to be criminals. 'And my daddy fought the Second World War, fought in the Pacific, fought the Japanese. And he told me, buddy, he said, if somebody wants to take you out and doesn't mind losing their life, there's not a whole heck of a lot you can do about it.'”



If the person is intent on killing, they are going to find a way to do it.

I’ve had it with this crap!

I throw my arms up in complete disgust! As of March 27, a total of 131 mass shootings has happened this year.

I’m tired of reading the mini-obits and go-fund-me pages about the victims whose lives were mercilessly cut short.

I’m tired of lawmakers on the left and right politicizing these tragedies minutes after they happen when the bodies are still lying dead on the floors of churches, college campuses, grade schools, malls, movie theaters and workplaces and who have yet to be identified before law enforcement can notify the emotionally crushed parents and loved ones of the deceased.

I’m tired of being told by the powers-that-be in human resources mandating I watch an hour-long video as part of my yearly training on what to do should a disgruntled gunman or gunwoman enter my place of work spraying bullets. Chances are I’ll either throw something at the psychopath or attempt to rush them head on. I’m going to die anyway so I might as well go out fighting instead of locking myself in a bathroom stall or vacated office waiting for all clear from police.

I’m tired of engaging in social media pissing contests who argue how snuff videos like the one showing WDBJ news reporter Alison Parker, 24, and photojournalist Adam Ward, 27, being shot and killed live during a morning news segment in 2015 deserved to be seen on YouTube for world viewing. In their sick little minds, watching the two being shot to death live felt that would make viewers realize how deadly guns are. BULLSHIT! It will only inspire would be shooters to commit the same vile thing!



I’m tired of people telling me this is the new normal like COVID and this is the way things are. To them, I'm supposed to get with the program and deal with it, damnit!

But hey, what do I know! I guess any garbage spewed out by the "Hollyweird" elite glorifying gun violence like the latest "John Wick" sequel that has grossed 120 million since its release two weeks ago is too fake for viewers. They want the real deal! No doubt the ones who said the Parker/Ward video should be shown for public consumption are those same losers who say, "Die Hard" (1988) IS a Christmas movie. In their minds terrorism and mass murder IS the spirit of Christmas!

I’m tired of hearing how more gun legislation will put an end to all this gun violence.



Do you need to look at how many are killed on a weekly basis on the streets of Chicago which I now call “Chi-Raq” (the death toll is higher during the holiday weekends) to know the toughest gun laws which the “Windy City” has in place don’t work? Just because Democratic Mayor Lorie Lightfoot no longer runs the blood drenched streets of “Chi-Raq” doesn’t mean the body count will start dropping sharply in the coming months, if at all. The two incumbent mayoral candidates, Paul Vallas and Brandon Johnson, Chicago voters will be choosing from in April are Democrats if that tells you anything.

Since '99, I’ve argued how the focus needs to be on assisting the mentally ill when it comes to curbing the gun violence. I can no longer stand behind that. Much like how added gun legislation won’t stop mass killings, spending more money to treat the mentally ill won’t fix the problem either. Charles Whitman, James Oliver Huberty, James Holmes, Steven Kazmierczak and Stephen Paddock were among the gunmen who either knew they had something mentally wrong with them, attempted to seek help and failed to get any, underwent treatment by psychiatrists and took prescribed medications only to stop taking them prior to their killing sprees.

The parents of the Nashville shooter knew she needed help and operated on the assumption their daughter got rid of all the automatic weapons she used in the shooting while being treated by a doctor for “emotional disorder.”



I am at the point now where when the next mass shooting happens (YES!!! THE NEXT ONE!!!) there will be zero need for me to do another commentary, should I even want to write one. This blog post will suffice. All I have to do is change the opening paragraph and everything else can stay the same. The only other change I’ll make is the date of the post at the top and bottom.

There is, however a very, very, very dim light at the end of the long dark tunnel that might, just might curb the daily bloodshed. That is if this Godless country of ours returns to patriotism. If parents start giving more than two shits about what their kids are doing under the roofs of their homes. If parents instill moral values in their offspring explaining to them the difference between right and wrong, good and evil, how murder is a crime and deserves to be punished and are taught to believe in God, the church and have an overall respect for human life.

In a twist of irony Monday an hour before the Nashville shootings made cable news headlines, the high-heeled, over-the-knee skirted info-babes led by newscaster Harris Faulkner on Fox’s "Outnumbered" discussed a Wall Street Journal poll that revealed how the percentage of Americans who believed in patriotism, religion, having children, community involvement and tolerance of others has dwindled from above 70 percent in 1998 to below 40 percent with religion down from 62 percent in 1998 to 39 percent in 2023.

With declining poll numbers like that how is it people have the nerve to ask why these mass shootings continue to occur on a daily/weekly occurrence versus when I attended high school in the mid-1980s.

“You know, repenting of your sins and having some sort of reform in this country seems to me ... that would be the way we're gonna have to turn this thing around because we have some very sick evil people doing some very vile things and revival seems to be the way to go,” Burchett told Fox News this week.

On May 25, 2022, the day after the massacre at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas that left 19 students and two teachers dead GOP Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene echoed the same similar sentiments Burchett said earlier this week.

“America is failing our youngest generations from decades of rejecting good moral values and teachings," Greene said. "We don't need more gun control. We need to return to God."

As much as it pains me to quote the Georgia congresswoman whose oftentimes controversial outspoken outlandish behavior on the Republican right is as bad as the liberal Anti-American left-wing garbage spewed out by congressional members of the socialist democratic party known as “The Squad” that include Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, IIhan Omar, and Rashida Tlaib I have no choice but to give Greene some credit.

She’s got a point!

©3/31/23

My Personal Worst Films: Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)

Transformers: Dark of the Moon «½
PG-13, 157m. 2011

Cast & Credits: Shia LaBeouf (Sam Witwicky), Josh Duhamel (Lennox), John Turturro (Simmons), Tyrese Gibson (Epps), Rosie Huntington-Whiteley (Carly Spencer), Patrick Dempsey (Dylan), Francis McDormand (Mearing), Kevin Dunn (Ron Witwicky), John Malkovich (Bruce Brazos), Julie White (Judy Witwicky), Alan Tudyk (Dutch), Ken Jeong (Jerry Wang), Buzz Aldrin (Buzz Aldrin), Bill O;Reilly (Bill O’Reilly). Screenplay by Ehren Kruger. Directed by Michael Bay.

 

"Transformers: Dark of the Moon" opens with Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen) narrating how during the final days of the planet Cybertron in the war between the Autobots (the good toys) and the Decepticons (the bad toys) a lone ship called “The Ark” launches carrying the dying world’s only hope for salvation.

What happens next is a unique series of events that would make conspiracy theorists and alien and UFO buffs drool if the story were profiled in the monthly issue of Fortean Times. Sometime in the early 1960s, “The Ark” crash lands on the Moon which brings the attention of NASA officials who immediately alert President Kennedy. As a result JFK decides to send a manned mission to the Moon. Not because of America’s race to get there first in competition with Russia, mind you. That’s all just a cover. The real story is for the astronauts to investigate the UFO crash.

If any conspiracy theorists ever wanted to know what was going on during those 21 minutes when communications between the Apollo astronauts and NASA went dark as broadcast journalist Walter Cronkite reported, Transformers: Dark of the Moon answers the question as a piece of the alien technology from the ship is brought back to Earth.

Watching those first ten maybe twenty minutes of the film made me actually hold out some hope, all be it very briefly, that this third installment in the toy franchise would actually be worth my time. Indeed, "Transformers: Dark of the Moon" is actually better than "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" (2009). Unlike the second film which I happily awarded NO STARS to two years ago, “Dark of the Moon” is one and a half stars better, regardless of the fact that bestowing a low star rating means “below average” according to my movie rating system.

The film boasts a few humorous moments that I can count on one hand. I laughed, for example, seeing a picture of hero Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) shaking hands with President Obama, which looks a little embarrassing. I would think helping save the world in the previous two movies would land Witwicky a good paying government job by now. The college graduate, however, still can’t find a job but at least he has a new girlfriend (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley) who supports him working as a promotional assistant for a rich auto racing CEO (Patrick Dempsey).

At one point during a job interview, when Witwicky tells an employer he shook hands with President Obama, the interviewer tells him their company is Republican. The best job Witwicky can land is as a mailroom clerk for an anal retentive boss (John Malkovich) who fires people on the spot when he sees the wrong colored coffee mug sitting on a person’s desk.

A couple other memorable moments include Sentinel Prime (voiced by Star Trek’s Leonard Nimoy) uttering the famous phrase from "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan" (1982) “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” The line is an obvious nod to Nimoy’s Mr. Spock character but I enjoyed the reference regardless. Bill O’Reilly of Fox’s "The O’Reilly Factor" has a cameo who puts former government agent Simmons (John Turturro) in the hot seat questioning his knowledge about the Decepticons and the Autobots. Former Astronaut Buzz Aldrin (yes THE Buzz Aldrin) also has a cameo appearance. I had to go to imdb.com to look at the film’s cast and credits for verification.

Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, on the other hand, immediately made me forget that Megan Fox was ever in the first two movies (Fox was fired or declined to star in the third film depending on which tabloid story one chooses to believe). Whiteley’s most dramatic moment comes during the climax when she tells Megatron (voiced by Hugo Weaving), that Sentinel Prime is going to eventually make the Decepticon leader his “bitch” once Earth is taken over and the Autobots are defeated.

Those moments along with the opening scenes add up to close to an enjoyable half hour when combined. The remaining two hours (157 minutes in all) is dedicated to lots of explosions and mass destruction as the Decepticons wreak havoc on Washington D.C. and Chicago and battle Optimus Prime and his do-gooder entourage that includes the yellow Chevrolet transforming Bumblebee.

In between all the mayhem are Witwicky’s attempts to warn government Agent “Don’t me ma’am” Mearing (Frances McDormand) of the Decepticon’s plans to use Sentinel Prime colonize Earth. Therein lies the entire plot all summarized in just one sentence.

I am going to be honest here. I am no fan of this toy movie franchise although I did like "Transformers" (2007) enough to award it the “close but no cigar” rating of two and a half stars. Yet since it’s been fifteen years since I last saw it I don’t remember why I even gave the film a marginal recommendation. I never played with Transformers as a kid, nor have I ever held such a toy in my hand. I don’t own any Star Wars Transformers toys nor do I plan to buy any. I never read the Marvel comic book nor have I seen the 1986 movie that features Orson Welles who voices one of the metallic characters. I have not seen, nor will I ever watch the current animated TV series that is on right now.

Other than Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Megatron and now as a result of this third installment, Sentinel Prime, I have no idea who the rest of these robots are that inhabit this film. Early on when Optimus Prime reveals the identity of some moving mechanical Decepticon worm, I immediately forgot the thing’s name and started asking myself if it was called “Sideshow,” “Swordfish,” or “Sideswipe.” I am sure Transformers fans will set me straight as to that particular Decepticon’s real name but I am warning you already, I don’t care. Trying to shed any real emotion as Bumblebee is about to get his mechanical transforming yellow head blown off by a Decepticon is like attempting to feel sorry for a large cockroach I see walking in the kitchen as I stomp on the germ carrying little bastard with my shoe. I have no worries about the messy remains I’ll see soon after. I shed more tears watching Owen Wilson’s character go through the pain of putting his faithful Labrador retriever to sleep in Marley & Me (2008).

Director Michael Bay has made a few movies I actually liked that include "Bad Boys" (1995), "The Rock" (1996), "Armageddon" (1998), and to a certain extent, "Pearl Harbor" (2001). Although Bay was intent on wowing audiences with the same kinds of explosive mayhem he has been providing moviegoers with this franchise since 2007, the one reason I enjoyed those movies was not so much the action and visual effects as it was the stories and the characters. The Transformers movies have very little story and no characters worth rooting for much less caring about. All those come second, if the filmmakers and screenwriters even bothered giving them any consideration to begin with.

Bay is not in the business of making the critics happy and I don’t expect him to be. Is it, however, too much to ask that he provide me with more than the consolation of watching such expensive junk movie making on one of the theater’s largest screens all alone where I don’t have to put up with the holiday crowds of annoying people sitting next to me and I got the first eight rows of seats all to myself despite the saying “Misery loves company?”

I know full well the Transformers movies are critic proof. I am not even sure these movies are for adults, or the parents who take their kids for that matter. These movies are for the kids who love the toys. As expected when the film ended I heard cheers from the audience. Don’t even think they were coming from the adults.

When it comes to this trilogy (though I’d be real stupid in thinking, if not hoping "Transformers: Dark of the Moon" is the last installment given the film’s box office gross of $116 million July 4th weekend) I am reminded of a quote I read from Paul Newman in The Hollywood Reporter’s Book of Box Office Hits in which the Oscar winning actor says on the subject of his role in the disaster movie, "The Towering Inferno" (1974), “Hell, we all know who the real star of this movie is-that damned fire.”

I wonder if decades from now if Shia LaBeouf reaches the admirable star quality status Newman had if he will say something similar about his role in the Transformers movies in which he says the real stars were those giant lumbering talking behemoths created by Hasbro.

©3/22/23