Sole Troll

The back log of interesting movies for me evaporated in this fallow part of the season, which prompted me to see "Trolls" on its opening weekend instead of waiting. I wondered if this would result in a rare packed theatre for me, but it turned out to be entirely empty. But earlier in the day, I heard someone whistle "In the Hall of the Mountain King", which appeared in the movie. Maybe he saw an earlier showing?

It also had that Gorillaz song in it, which seemed fitting in a way, for the movie's colour palette looked quite compatible with that of the band and Jamie Hewlett's general aesthetic. That's part of what made it feel like a superior manifestation of the Smurfs franchise. Not the recent movies. No universe switching. Just fantastical villages with odd humanoids of varying heights. But all of the Smurfs had the same colour scheme. The trolls have more freedom to differ. That also helped to elevate the night elves of "Warcraft" over the Drow of "Dungeons & Dragons" in my reckoning. Neon hair and a breadth of skin tones instead of homogenous monochrome.

"Trolls" also featured Zooey Deschanel in a role that has to be the most significant deviation from her standard eccentric archetype by a gargantuan margin. For one thing, in a film dominated by adorable little creatures that are somewhat akin to actual pixies, this girl, who's done more than anyone in modern cinema to codify the term "manic pixie dream girl", isn't even voicing one. She's playing one of the big grey giants. Those are probably closer to classical folkloric trolls in the minds of many, but that's a species that varies more than most across mythical systems. Beyond that, she's more of a dour duckling type in this. Maybe Zooey had to be different here because Anna Kendrick's the lead. Otherwise there might have been redundancy.

Also. "Strange Magic". It felt like that, but I didn't get to see that in theatres. It had one of the shortest runs I've noticed for a movie of any reasonable stature. It seemed to disappear within a fortnight. Maybe there were some lingering afternoon showings, but I can't be holding with any of those, and I'm not even sure that they happened. But come on! George Lucas! "A Midsummer Night's Dream"! With pop music! Why? Why did it disappear so fast?

This one was brighter, though. Judging by the void in which I was seated, that might not be enough to help it avoid a similar fate, but I liked it. I never really liked the actual dolls, but that might have had more to do with the materials employed in their construction. The aesthetic's not a bad one.

Bonus Question!

Which Gorillaz song?

There are many good ones, but when it's "that one", it should be pretty clear.

November Reign

I hear people exhorting others to vote. Despite apathy. Despite distaste for the relevant candidates. Despite all sorts of factors that prevent any sentiments of actual support for either party. But that sounds to me like urging people to have sex when they're failing to find love. It's not something you can't do, but it's not going to solve the person's problem. As sex can be an expression of love, the ideal vote is a representation of an individual's support for something. To many confirmed voters, it's an action against the greater perceived evil, which is not without validity. But what are you going to get from an apathetic vote? Someone who just wants to see what'll happen? Someone who'll cast an extra vote on behalf of a friend who actually might care? These aren't really kinds of possibilities that bespeak the virtues of civic duty. That's best enacted by people who actually care, and they're already planning to vote. Even if you disagree with them, you don't have to tell them  to go out there. In November. Which means that it'll probably be cold and drear. Which is probably another excuse to avoid voting. 

Bonus Question! 

Worst Civic duty? 

Car pooling in a Honda.

Days of Future Kings

So. Details about the new Wolverine movie surfaced right after I discovered and hastily devoured Patrick Stewart's fabulous series "Blunt Talk". But I don't really play close attention to such information until the product's released. I caught sight of pictures that show Logan driving Xavier around, though, and now there's a part of me that hopes for the film to basically be a mutant version of "Blunt Talk" with Wolvie in place of the manservant. It's already pretty close. A friendship forged in the fires of war between some hirsute soldier dude and his obsessively dedicated leader?
 

And then Logan would calm him down with a bedtime reading of T.H. White's "The Once and Future King".

Incidentally, news of new "X-Men" comics broke recently too, which should do something to quell those nonsense theories about Marvel's plans to quash that line of books because of Fox stuff. Never mind the fact that Deadpool's been pushed consistently for a decade despite the same supposed issues with licensing. For instance. But anyway. I do get the feeling that the fictional Marvel company that exists within the universe of actual Marvel comics, which publishes stories based on the superheroes that exist there, probably does ignore the X-Men. Sometimes at least. You know. Because of all the hate and fear.

Bonus Question!

Best future king? Kang. Also a strong contender for a past king. He never could seem to crack the present, though. 

An Extended Eve

I take no issue with the premature proliferation of Halloween. It's akin to the spirit that's always in my heart anyway. Why would I protest?

But the one attendant pitfall I remember from childhood was the increased time I was given to consider my costume by the preponderance of sales that basically started with the school year. I'd start to gather up accesorries early, but in that protuberant period before the event, I'd have all sorts of time to change my mind. Thus, Halloween would see me in a fantastic outfit that I'd probably finished within a few days of that holy night while my house was littered with purchased components of costumes that would never manifest.

But now there's no fantasy I'd want to embody over that of Jaymes Buckman, and that's the costume I'll wear forevermore.

Bonus Question!

Halloween movie?

"The Halloween Tree". I've spoken of it before, and I wouldn't be surprised if that happens again.

Liking Some Luke

I’ve been watching “Luke Cage”. Here’s the thing with Marvel’s Netflix shows. The theme songs are really long.

They’re allowed to be. They call back to an earlier era of television introductions because they don’t have the time constraints of network broadcasts. But they are long. Thus, I start out by trying to skip past them. But then I get lazy and neglect this practice. Then the workmanship of the tunes seeps into me, and I grow fond of them. And the minutes pile up . . .

Best Marvel Netflix theme tune?

“Jessica Jones”? I don’t remember it, but it feels like the right answer. It feels true.

Reign On

A smile of timeless poise abides

As distant, disparate kin convene.

A steely wisdom subtly guides

With noble wit and vision keen.

Enthroned in grace, her pose is still,

But eyes of dauntless age disport.

The glories of her glances fill

The corners of her comely court.

The season shifts. An era ends.

That seemly soul departs the scene.

Her reign remains as she ascends

To realms that best befit a queen.

Smooth Translations

I've been reading some of Haggard's works in his Ayesha mythos, and though they are splendid, there's one indulgence that sticks out. In "She", there are some multilingual inscriptions that bear some heavy plot relevance. For some reason, he decides to write out the translation in each language, which goes on for pages, some of which don't even use the same alphabet. That sequence of blank pages in Stephanie Meyer's "New Sun" seemed slightly pompous when I read it, but at least it served as a way to convey the acute sense of nihilistic despair the narrator was experiencing. But this was just . . . Did he not think that we'd believe that the other translations existed? He had to actually transcribe them? It's just a weird move. But hey. He's a writer. Writers are allowed to make weird moves. It's something of a speciality. This one just wasn't my favourite. But I will say that it didn't actually detract from my reading experience at all. It's very easy for me to skip over foreign text. I don't play that. Living the anglophonic life, baby. That's my tongue, and I'm sticking with it.

I also saw "Bridget Jones's Baby". Colin Firth has remarkably smooth arms. Not just for a man. Not just for a man of his age. We're talking about baby buttock level. I thought that he woke up in Bridget's embrace, but I was mistaken. That was his arm.

Bonus Question!

Ayesha versus Firth! Who has smoother arms?

Considering that exquisite skin is basically one of Ayesha's superpowers, she gets the victory here. Still, Firth competed admirably.

Meet the Battles

Alex Ross, eminent comic book painter, released this recently.

It's a battle between two characters of extreme martial renown, accepting the idea that the perception of each has been magnificently exaggerated. Batman's like The Beatles for comic books. Despite relatively humble beginnings, he's been raised to a position of glory that threatens to eclipse reality. Like them, he's also incredibly versatile, and he's good enough to avoid making such impossible praise seem unearned. If a value approaches infinity, a lot of people are just going to call it infinite.

On the other hand, I'd compare Boba Fett to Brian Jones. He still has some inherent greatness, but he never really got a chance to thoroughly fulfill the legend ascribed to him. He had a good look and some clear talent, and he definitely took some actions that put some balls into a rolling motion, but he was removed from the board before he could comfortably display the full breadth of his skills. 

Bonus Question! Batman versus Boba Fett?

I'm pretty sure that I just answered this.  

Magnetic Vibes

The ending of "Kubo" reminded me of one of those "X-Men" stories where Magneto contracts amnesia somehow and gets inadvertently rehabilitated into a fresh, ostensibly powerless civilian who finally finds in his new existence the happiness that had so persisently eluded the fraught man he formerly was. Until something brings his memories back at a later point and sets him on a path of havoc. But the movie ended before that second part. Which probably suited this film better. For one thing, it didn't seem to involve Chris Claremont. But at least the idea's out there if there's some desperate call for a sequel.

Bonus Question! 

Chris Claremont versus Chris Carter!

Battle of dangling tangly plot threads!

Even if I didn't have a warmer spot in the heart for Claremont, I'd probably give it to him for sheer length. From the Seventies to the early Nineties without a break. That dude's stories grew some serious vines.

Antler Room Show! 15th!

Playing at the newly reopened Antler Room with a band from Japan! MunizO! Check them out if you want. Or don't. You'll hear them at the show anyway. Right after us!

Thursday night. The 15th. Antler Room.

146 Front Street West. Mwah!

Dancing on the Sand

Olympics, man. Like . . . Even when the most affluent countries host, they tend to lose a lot of money from constructing arenas that will probably not ever be terribly relevant again. It's just pageantry. Which is fine. If you can afford it. But if it's supposed to be some avenue to bolster the public face of a lesser country on the world stage, then it shouldn't really fall to them to pay for the whole thing. Right? Wouldn't it actually be cheaper to lift the facilities from some old host and drop them in Rio? And then hire a team of local painters? But then you just hire locals to construct everything. Which is great! When a financially unstable government isn't forced to pay for it. But aren't all governments financially unstable? Technically? I suppose so. But there are tiers!

Bonus Question!

Best Rio? That singing bird. 

Shows on the 1st and 2nd!

We'll be opening up for Lew Phillips on the inaugural day of September.

At!

Free! Times! Cafe!

320 College. 9:30 in the eve.

Check out his stuff if you like.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?list=RDEMpykAJ5BW9HEH51QHwqSYJA&params=OAI%253D&v=8fKch6HZ1CY

You already know us. And you shall know us then.

Oh! And if you can't see us then, we'll be playing with the same dude at The Central on the following day. That's a Friday! 603 Markham Street.

You know Honest Ed's? It's basically right there. Come around 5:30. It'll be a swishy afternoon.

So. Free Times Cafe. Thursday. 9:30.

The Central. Friday. 5:30.

Come to one. Or the other!

Or both!

That's what we're doing.

Some Kind Of

Despite the fact that it was the first DC movie in four years that wasn't directed by Zack Snyder, "Suicide Squad" was the one that reminded me of "Sucker Punch". In good ways. That's still my favourite of his works, and this film carried some of those same madcap sensibilities with a patchy polish and a firm reluctance to justify itself. These are qualities I can admire in a movie. It also had an able cast with a willingness to commit, which hauled the picture along when it might otherwise have stumbled. The fact that all of them always seemed to have something to do helped. That was one thing about "Dawn of Justice". At times it felt like a series of portraits. They were exquisitely painted, but the models didn't always get the chance to express themselves as they might have liked. Well . . . Except Jesse Eisenberg.

In the same way that the best parts of the 2005 "Fantastic Four" movie felt as though they came straight from the mind of Johnny Storm, I think that a case could be made for the idea that this is the kind of film the Joker would produce. It doesn't always know where it's going, but it's not going to be swayed from getting there, and it endeavours against the odds to have a good time on the way. And he obviously gives himself the best outfits.

Bonus Question!

Harley Quinn versus Babydoll! Battle of heroic mental patients! 

Well, it's obviously going to be a dance battle, and I'm going to give it to Baby because that's basically her superpower. 

Waylabar Show on the 18th

Hey, people and assorted things of all other varieties! Hot Apollo's opening a night of acoustical musical majesty at the Waylabar on the 18th of August. 996 Queen Street. East! 

8:15. 

Summery Secrets and Civil Sequels

Marvel's comic event for the summer, "Civil War II",  is swinging its strides right now. The fact that it's being helmed by Bendis, who's probably been a favourite for me since those early days before I even noticed things like writing credits, definitely doesn't hurt. At the very least, it's actually in the Marvel universe I love. I had a surprising amount of fun with some of the "Secret Wars" books from last year, but the fact that they were essentially alternate universe tales  made them feel like an interruption. I might have been more receptive if they'd been released in addition to the regular books instead of replacing them, but that hardly seems tenable. Right? I don't know. Numbers, man.

But I really liked Marvel's delivery on their oft mentioned pizza analogy for "Secret Wars". Their spokesman likened the event's ultimate effects on the Marvel universe to smashing two pies together and keeping what sticks, but it felt more like scraping a few choice toppings from some old, slightly mouldy pizzas onto the inexplicably fresh main one.

"Hey, I think that we can save these anchovies."

And that anchovy's name was Miles Morales.

Bonus Question!

Best pizza topping?

Pineapples! Not on pizza. But pineapples are just really good generally.  

August 2nd! A Show!

People of every pursuasion! The magnifical might of Hot Apollo again finds its way to a Torontonian stage! On the inaugural Tuesday of August, we shall be working our wizardry at The Linsmore. Right beside Greenwood Station! Music starts at 8:00. Come on out and see us. And the other bands! I guess. 

1298 Danforth Avenue. 

Sunday Even at the Tennessee

Guys! People! Everyone!

We're playing another sweet set of swishy rock-and-roll glory with Mr. Jr. on Sunday at the Tennessee. That's 1554 Queen Street West. We're on at 8:30! That's totally convenient if Monday's a thing for you!

Come on out!

Mysterious M

I recently finished "Theatre of the Gods". Quite joyous. If you can imagine a version of "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Thomas Pynchon, you're pretty close. Honestly, I'd be more interested by Douglas Adams's take on "Gravity's Rainbow", but this was a satisfactory experience in its own right. Fantastical space adventures are rarely unwelcome.

But the lead's first initial was never revealed. That is an annoyance. No deliberate mystery. He was just recurrently referred to by "M. Francisco Fabrigas". I'd be willing to consider the "Monsieur" possibility, but there was an instance where "Master" was placed at the front of the whole thing, and such tautological inelegance seems highly improbable.

Baron Zemo's another example in recent cognition. What's Helmut's middle name? What does the J stand for? Shall he repeat that famed Homeric journey to an arguably anticlimactic revelation? Why are these things put there?

You know how some people have that thing where they don't almost automatically enjoy the vast majority of the entertainment they consume? I think that this initial niggle might be what I have instead.

Bonus Question!

Is the space pope reptilian?

This one does not appear to be. He does have his own battle fleet, though.

Hatchet Plans

I recently saw "Maggie's Plan".

Bill Hader used the phrase "like a hatchet" to describe the face of the relative of a prospective sperm donor. Not for him. For a friend. Not that . . . You know. There'd be nothing wrong with that. It wouldn't be eminently practical, but uses could be found for it.

Anyway, I'd always heard the term "hatchet face" in reference to visages that were supposed to seem as though they'd been mauled by hatchets. When I'm asked to imagine a face that actually resembles a hatchet, it's much more benign. I picture something like Ben Kingsley.

The film also discussed the potential damage that could befall a child through growing up in a loveless marriage. I realise that this idea is not one in which I have faith. I can't say that I ever scrutinised it, but if I were asked, I would not say that passion was a defining characteristic of my parents' relationship through most of my acquaintance of them. Despite that, our household was always filled with love, and they certainly functioned as companions to each other. But I'm inclined to think that the important thing for the child is recipience of love from each parent. If the parents can get along around each other, is that not sufficient? It doesn't just keep the marriage intact; it keeps the right sort of emotions around. You know how some people only work as friends in the company of a mutual connection? It's like that. The Earth has a great relationship with the sun and moon, but those two propably wouldn't have much to do with each other in the planet's absence. Despite that apathy, the union they form with Earth succeeds brilliantly, and the planet thrives in the glow of both. 

Bonus Question! 

Best plan? 

The one that was always. 

Dancing on the Tables of My Childhood

When I first realised that the premier pilot of "The Force Awakens" was portraying Apocalypse, there was a part of me that basically just wanted to see Poe Dameron with vague omnipotence and blue lips. Instead, the interpretation was closer to full Palpatine, and it worked deliciously.

I think that this film might have been the weakest showing for Scott's glasses, but I suppose that Oakley hadn't quite achieved market dominance in the Eighties. However, I think that this visor might be the best of the series. It evens out.

But Nightcrawler got to be himself! Really, it's a role that looks on paper like a fitting role for Alan Cumming's brand of witty panache, but the direction of the movie in which he appeared suppressed that aspect of the character. Not the case here. This Nightcrawler was the one I loved in most other incarnations. Man, it was the one who danced on the table in the opening credits of every episode of "X-Men: Evolution". Who cares if Angel got turned into Billy Idol? For one thing, that was glorious in its own right. For another, we got classic Kurt Wagner. That's a win, babe.

For all the haranguing about the division of intellectual property between Marvel Studios and other production houses, one would assume that Pizza Dog's rights would be tied to Hawkeye. Yet this Fox film explicitly features a dog mainly identifiable by his attachment to pizza. Way to slide one beneath the lawyers, Fox! Living up to that name!

Speaking of things that fall under the vast umbrella of Disney! That moment with Quicksilver and his mother? "I'm not afraid." "You should be." Totally reminiscent of "The Empire Strikes Back"? And Peter was totally staring off with Skywalker face as the scene ended. And then the next one began with some of the students in a discussion about the showing of "Return of the Jedi" they'd just viewed. And the activation of Cerebro looks like hyperspace. But that last one's a bit of a stretch.

Anyway, I'll never get tired of hearing Xavier's refrain of "old friend" with Magneto. Keep on feeling, Chuck. Your love is beautiful.

Bonus Question!

What are you calling right now?

Next film opens with an X-Mansion baseball game. Calling it right now.