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Have you ever done this?
We were going to take the kids to the movies on Easter Sunday, and I looked online to find something cool. Hey, whaddya know, Doomsday, the new M. Night Shyamalan movie, is already showing, great! I’m thrilled, as I like mystrerious, creepy, "what the blue blazes is going on out there?" flicks. For some reason, the kids are less than enthused. Still, we pile into the van, buy the tickets, find our seats, greasy popcorn at the ready.
.......And the first scene opens up with people reeling around covered with supperating pustules, while some Army looking types herd quarrantined folks into a fenced enclosure. Hmmmm....this sure doesn’t have the feel of a typical M. Night epic. Where’s the mystery? Why are they telling us up front they are walling off Scotland because of some new super plague? And where’s Marky Mark (Mark Wahlberg)? Sumpin’ fishy going on here. Oops...
Turns out we’re in the wrong movie. Thanks, Dad. The kids knew this all along. They just thought pops was up for some serious road kill. M. Night’s new chiller is called The Happening, and no doubt doesn’t hit theaters for several more months. Sigh.
Okay, we try to watch anyhow. Doomsday appears to be kind of a Road Warrior ripoff, for the most part, with a heavy Escape From New York vibe. Tell me this, why do people stranded in urban nightmare scenarios always wind up sporting multi-colored mowhawks, etc.? Wow, the early 80s must have really scared the bejeebers out of Hollywood. Or maybe they just have a lot of nose rings left over. Not only is this film stuck in a time warp, I simply can’t imagine anyone in a cannablistic situation taking the time for such complicated primping. Who’s the stylist, anyhow? And why hasn’t he been eaten?
Oh well, the one-eyed heroine is cute. Rhona Mitra, what a name. Wonder if it’s harder to become high profile in Hollywood these days with so many actors insisting Archibald Leach sounds every bit as catchy as Cary Grant? Uh oh, the cannibals have caught Rhona, now they’re hanging her up by her supple wrists....nothing like a little boy fun before supper, I guess. Bleh. Time to get my 24 year old autistic son out of there.
I hustle Zachary out to the "main concourse" (or whatever you call it at the theaters) to see what other fare they have to offer. Hmmmm....Horton Hears a Who. Or is that Hoo? Suddenly can’t remember. [Editor’s note, the author of this blog is functioning on 3 hours sleep].
Well, shoot. We barely sit down and the Wickersham brothers already have their ropes out for poor Horton, attempting to "boil that dust speck!" The Kangaroo is screeching just like Carol Burnett. Heck. Okay, what else? Next we traipse into Juno, and d*mned if it isn’t on the final reel as well. She’s already had the baby! Okay, finally we settle into The Spiderwick Chronicles. Just in time to see the father come back from the dead to whisk his 60 something daughter (magically turned 12 again) away on a carpet of sparkles (or was that windshield glass?). Sigh.
Okay, back to Doomsday. Maybe the gross stuff is over. Whew, it’s another Road Warrior knockoff scene, complete with the "slam on the brakes and cause the bad guy with the crossbow to shoot the head bad guy’s paramour in the temple" gambit. Gosh, producers/screenwriters, if you’re going to steal, at least do it with a little more panache. Explosions. Faces punched. Bites. Cars flipping. Government baddies in a helicopter. The one-eyed Rhona decides she’d rather stay with the cannibals. I’m kidding, right? Nope, and she’s toting the bloody noggin of the dead head bad guy to prove it.....which she promptly throws down at the feet of the Flock of Seagull feasters who declare her the new Grand Poobah. Big sigh. Better luck next Easter.
Okay, yes, I’ll still working furiously on my revisions for DAYS OF LITTLE TEXAS. Spring 09 is not actually all that far away in the glacial world of publishing. But I was up till 2:30 working on that and other stuff last night. Figure I earned a little play.
Russ
7:54 AM
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