The Illusionist: A Movie Review

It sucks. Watch The Prestige instead.

End of review.

Wait... there's another movie called The Illusionist?


Okay, now this looks promising!

I put The Illusionist on hold at the library at the beginning of the year amidst the hubbub surrounding the Academy Awards... and then I forgot about it. Well, it finally became available last week... Boy, was it worth that long wait, which I didn't mind at all because I'd forgotten about it.

Sounds like damning with false praise? Probably, but that'd be a mistake. This movie was superb.

The story's pretty simple - a down-on-his-luck stage magician crosses paths with a young Scottish girl. The two make their way to the big city, where he tries to make a living beyond his stage magics, and she... um... buys pretty dresses.

I get the feeling I'm not selling this movie very well. Lemme tell you what I liked so much about it:

FIRST, it's one of the most stylistically brilliant movies I've seen in a while. The animation reminds me of some of the classic Disney cartoons (specifically 101 Dalmations - there's a lot of similar linework). In addition to it's retro feel, though, the animation excels at telling the story - which is done almost exclusively through visual cues.

There is a bit of voicework, but it's mostly incidental/environmental. It adds to the FEEL of the movie, even though it's pretty much unintelligible. There are scraps of English, scraps of French, and a couple of languages that may or may not actually exist. Still, the characters' emotions and intentions are never in doubt.

You CAN watch the movie with subtitles, but... why?

SECOND and most important, The Illusionist is genuine, touching, and heartwarming in a way most movies can't achieve without excess cheese. If you've ever seen the first twenty minutes of Up (also known as "The Good Part of the Movie"), you know somewhat what to expect. The difference between The Illusionist and Up, though, is that the former is able to maintain that level of emotional intensity and sincerity for 80 full minutes.

Also, The Illusionist throws in more than a few heart-wrenching sucker punches.

It's a great movie. Easily one of the best cartoons I've ever seen. Heck, I almost don't even want to CALL it a "cartoon," because that makes it sound childish. Check it out.

Muchas Smoochas!

I have GOT to find a better way to color in those large, black areas.

This scene's a bit reminiscent of something from Scott Pilgrim, but the characters (such as they are) are pretty much my own.

Blind Date

Here's a quick refresher from S.R. Braddy's rules of dating:

Rule #237: If someone ever tries to set you up on a date, RUN. Run SO far away. Unlike the song, you WILL get away.

It's a pretty simple rule - one I thought was understood by all my friends and acquaintences.

So imagine my surprise when one of my friends *coughBlakecough* left me the following voice mail:

"Hey, Stephen, so I've got a girl that I would like to set you up with. Her name is Melody Green. She's really nice, she's pretty. She's actually a relative of my wife's - third cousin, something like that. She's from Wyoming and she's in Utah right now.

"There's only one problem - she's... imaginary. Oh, and she's a gold-digger. Hope that's okay."

Nearly gave me a heart attack. Well played, Blake.

...

I’m well aware of the fact that I’m posting this on Wednesday, May 24; however, at the time of writing, it’s 11:11 P.M. on Tuesday, and I can hear Bono wailing pretentiously from wherever the crap that U2 concert is, and I swear he’s singing “Rocket Man.”

Coherency is, therefore, not high on my list of priorities.


I had one of those rare free evenings last night where I had absolutely no responsibility, so I took a walk to the library to pick up some items I’d ordered. On my way home, I looked down and realized that my cute little Gregory Peck potbelly had swollen just a bit more across the view of my feet. So I went home, stuck in season two of Gilmore Girls, and proceeded to do three sets of twenty sit-ups and three sets of ten pushups.

Actually, it was a set of four pushups and THEN three sets of ten. The set of four came first, so… progress?

Afterwards, I went into the bathroom to perform my nightly oblations (a word I hope I’m using correctly, and, if not, see the disclaimer at the top). I looked at my hair – always messy – and I saw just a single strand shooting out from the side of my head. It was, of course, grey.

It occurred to me that I haven’t really been all that productive, of late. I’ve got a lot of goals, but I haven’t done a whole lot to work on them. The most productive thing I did yesterday (well, before writing about my little breakdown) was find a writer who actually made me care a little bit about reading a Fantastic Four comic.

(Incidentally, Jonathan Hickman’s pretty darn good).

I just remembered that I have a lot I want to get done with my life. I want to finish up that darn novel I started back in November, get some more drawing done, and adopt Rory Gilmore. She’d be lucky to have me for an adopted daddy – but only if she agrees not to do that whole little adulterous affair with Dean thing.

Anyway, I’m twenty-seven years old, and I think I’m having some kind of midlife crisis. So if you see me today, and my head’s completely shorn, and I’m complaining about a sore belly and arms, you’ll know why.

The Three Season Theory

I haven't deemed it necessary to get cable hookup or anything like that in my apartment, so I don't really watch a whole lot of TV. Generally, everything I watch I pick up on DVD, usually borrowed from the library or pilfered from friends. Even so, I've built up a small but significant collection of DVDs.

So I've got this working theory on the quality of television shows: a series is good for only about three years. The first season shows a bit of promise - a hint of the series's true brilliance. The second season, the show hits its stride, cranking out quality episode after quality episode. By the third season, you can usually tell the writing staff has run out of ideas, as the plots get a bit more ludicrous, a bit more far-fetched. The writing and acting is usually GOOD still, but, by season four, things get so whacked out that the series might as well be over.

I've got three (of my personal favorite shows) which I cite when looking at this hypothesis:


The Office

Now, the first time I ever saw an episode of The Office (Season 2's "Sexual Harrassment"), I didn't care for what I saw. That said, after I went back and gave it another try, I found I absolutely LOVED it.

My favorite part of watching The Office was seeing the Jim/Pam/Roy triangle (or the Jim/Karen/Pam/Roy rectangle). By the time Season 3 concluded, that story arc had more or less resolved itself. Once Season 4 rolled around, it became clear that the Jim/Pam story had little room to grow. Meanwhile, Michael Scott's eccentricities had gone almost Tex Avery in their levels of cartoonishness. I decided to move one.

In short, this series is TOO long.

(For the record, I haven't seen a single episode of The Office since Season Five's Superbowl episode, and I don't really miss the show)


Pushing Daisies

Basically, I'm of the opinion that Pushing Daisies is the best thing to have ever appeared on television until someone gets the Rapture on camera. The characters were well-written and charismatic, the stories cute and engaging, and... *sigh*... the series unpopular enough to get cancelled after two seasons.

Really, though, a third season would have been perfect. All those little dangling plot threads that never got resolved could easily be wrapped up in another 12 episodes or so. The world would have been SO much better for it.

I guess we'll just have to wait for the comic book to come out to get any amount of resolution. But, in any case, this series is TOO short.


Arrested Development

Okay, now, in my opinion, Arrested Development ended at exactly the right time.

I understand that puts me in the minority with the Fox executives and... um, nope, that's probably it. Still, I don't know that I would have enjoyed a fourth season of Arrested Development nearly as much as I did the first three.

While the series continued to put out quality episodes right up to the very end, I got the vibe that the writers were really starting to tread water. The characters had all immersed themselves so completely in their neuroses that they were starting to come off as... almost completely unnatural (like an emotional "uncanny valley"). The plots were still great but verging on the unbelievably silly. Finally, those delightful in-jokes which make the series so good were getting to be... a little thick.

What we got, in the end, was about three years of top-notch comedy with no dangling plot threads to drive fanboys nuts. I imagine a fourth year would have been GOOD, but I don't see it being nearly as great as what we've already got. So, yeah, this series is... well, you know by now.

I'm sure there are exceptions to the "Three Season Theory" (Seinfeld and MASH are the most regularly cited), but, for now, I'm standing by this little rule of thumb.

Songs that Make Me Smile

So I've been having kind of a rough, stupid day. Instead of dwelling on it, I've chosen to think instead on some of the music that makes me smile every time I hear it.

And, no, Rebecca Black isn't on the list. Poor girl.


Katrina and the Waves: "Walking on Sunshine"

What? It's a legitimately happy song.


Cee-Lo Green: "F*** You"

I liked this song before it was on Glee.


Justin Timberlake: "My Love"

Here's a deep, dark secret for you: I've always liked N*SYNC.


My Chemical Romance: "Welcome to the Black Parade"

Science has yet to find a reason why ANYTHING about My Chemical Romance would make a person smile, yet here we are.


Robert Palmer: "Addicted to Love

Fun fact: When I grow up, I want to be Robert Palmer.

Give Me a Man with Hair...

I don't mean to come across as judgmental. I'm sure you raven-haired stick figures out there are delightful people.

Can I NOT Call This "Monster Mash"

No, by the way, I can't... not... call it "Monster Mash."

I recently read the Marvel comics adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, wherein artist Skottie Young commented on the importance of using shapes in character design... which is why the Frankenstein guy has a cylindrical head.

Again, I did some experimenting with different kinds of shading, especially on the mummy guy's skin and on the moon in the background. I got so caught up in that... I forgot about adding table legs.

Whoops.


Here, we have just a fun little experiment in surreality. I wish I'd taken it a bit further with stretchier character designs. Still, I think it came out fine.

Tintin: Something to Look Forward to After All?

There's a movie due out this December based on The Adventures of Tintin, and, as I've already said, I'm not optimistic about it.

At least, I wasn't.

Then the poster came out:


The movie's got a couple of big names attached to it that are sure to earn it some credibility, so you can consider me genuinely intrigued.

No, I'm not talking about Spielberg and Jackson. That's just silly.

I mean THESE guys:


Steven Moffat is regarded by many (myself included) to be the best writer on Doctor Who; however, I'm actually the TEENIEST bit fonder of his work on the revived Sherlock series.

And then there's Edgar Wright, whose work I'm not terribly familiar with, but his involvement in my favorite movie of 2010 means I'll be looking at this... frankly terrifying... movie with a bit more optimism.

Validation

I don't really repost a lot of my personal correspondence, but I got a really nice compliment today, which I decided, for some reason, to share (with permission from the author, who's getting to be a regular feature on this blog).

"I was thinking about you last night when...now this is a weird train of thought...so ... yeah just try and follow.

"I was at my new ward, then at my new ward prayer. I didn't know why I went to ward stare, but figured I have 4 months left of this scene and then I can be done forever, so I might as well embrace the absurdity of it all and go out with a bang. Besides, FHE tonight entails free Cafe Rio. Yes, Please! AND, ironically, I know about 8 people in my new ward and 4 of them are some of the ladies I LOVE the most who moved out of my last ward and things were never the same. Anyway...

"At church, one guy had asked for my number. At ward prayer, this other really pompous guy who ends up being a theater guy... plots practically on top of me on the couch and we ended up chatting theater stuff for thirty minutes. I knew his first/last name, but I didn't know him and I couldn't figure out why, but once we made the theater connection it all made sense. ANYWAY. Then I went to another friend's house and he kept making comments about me being pretty and he gave me several hugs, which is not common.

"I was driving home last night and I thought, 'Oh my word, if these guys really are interested, I can't handle it right now. I don't want to date right now.'

"Then I thought about the last time I didn't have to worry about this and I thought about Damn Yankees... I had some quiet time there for a couple of months in August/September/half October. And I thought about you. I wished there were more guys like Stephen. Someone who doesn't just throw themselves every which way until the hit someone who is interested. Someone who sits back and observes and if they pay you any attention you know it is because they truly desire to be in your company. I'm really thankful for our friendship Stephen. I'm thankful you are not a player. Yes, I wish you were more comfortable asking girls out and all of that, but I'm more grateful for who you are.

"That is all."

Above: Not me.

So, yeah some people appreciate that I'm a recluse and never burden girls with my ridiculous please for dates...

Well, I thought it was nice :-)

Words are Yummy

Really. They are. You put them in your mouth, and, with the best of words, you can tell what they mean from how they taste.

delicious

for example, is a darn sexy word. If you don't believe me, you're probably not saying it right. Hold out the first syllable for a while, and then shake your head a bit as you move into the "L" sound. Said correctly, "delicious" has a very distinctive taste, and it's... well, you know.

Or how about

nubile

I don't think I ever knew EXACTLY what "nubile" meant. All I know is that, if I ever used it... questionably, let's say, I immediately felt unclean, almost as if I'd eaten one doughnut too many.

Compare that to

bureaucracy

Here's a word that almost NEVER tastes good. Probably because it's full of so many stupid letters (I can't ever spell "bureaucracy" without looking it up). The ONLY time I enjoy saying this word is when I'm angry - then I can bite off those last syllables with a bit of gusto.

Goes to show that some words need a bit of seasoning.

Finally, we have

masticate

a word that's not NEARLY as funny as it thinks it is.

Why I'm Still Single 31

It's not cowardice. It's a deliberate attempt to make a statement about the current dynamics of the dating world.

And you say it's cowardice. Pfft!

Aftermath: YSA Rejiggered

Destination or Bust!

Note: The following post contains several disclaimers which may affect your perception of the author's impartiality. You have been warned.

In case you missed it, the LDS church recently reorganized their program for young single adults. Now, there are a lot reasons why the program's been mixed up, but the main one seems to be to get all us single folks hitched. And we know how I feel about that.

So I attended my brand spanking new Young Single Adult ward on Sunday. I'd like to say "with an open mind"... but... well...

The first hour of the ward meeting, our bishopric took the opportunity to introduce themselves... by telling us to get married. Over. And over. And over. And... actually, I don't know if they stressed it again, because eventually I zoned out and doodled.

Now, in my LAST singles ward, I LOVED the age-mix, or lack thereof. See, when I first moved into that area at 25, I was actually one of the younger people in the ward. Even now, at 27, I would have been sitting comfortably on the median.

In this new ward, though, I guess I look a bit older. Or, maybe, I should just say that everyone ELSE looks quite a bit YOUNGER. It's... discouraging, to say the least.

The kicker, for me, came during the testimony portion of the meeting. A young woman rose to give what I guess would be her farewell from the ward. "I'm getting married in a few weeks," she said, "but I remember what it was like thinking I'd never get married, and I just I wanted to say that you're time will come..."

UGH!!!

I'm sure she meant well, but, seriously, I thought I'd long-since outgrown "singles insecurity." I mean, yeah, I'm single, and it'd be nice to NOT be single, but I think I do pretty well on my own.

Anyway, Sunday WAS Mother's Day, when a lot of singles head home. It was also the first meeting of the new ward, so people may have been a bit off balance. And, obviously, I myself wasn't necessarily in the best mood. Here's hoping things get better next week.

But, still... Holy crud.

Maybe He's Just a Better Dancer...

Someone asked me if this is how I'm feeling right now. I said, "No... Maybe."

(For the record, it's not.)

Again, I've been experimenting with different line thicknesses and shading/hatching techniques. I'm pretty pleased with how the girl turned out.

If I could go back and do this again, I'd put the girl and the robot (who, by the way, got a bit of a redesign, if you hadn't noticed) further in the background, and I'd bring the boy more forward. That way, his little shadow would probably have a bit more significance.

Breaking News: I'M WHITE!!!

At my job, there are two different kinds of days: days when you hate the phone ringing because it interrupts your work, and days when you love the phone ringing because "FINALLY THERE'S SOMETHING TO DO!!!"

Guess what kind of day Friday was?

During one of the lengthy downtimes, I wandered around the internet and stumbled across a website I hadn't visited in a long time: Stuff White People Like. Occasionally (although it's been a while now), they post a little blog outlining one of the peculiar interests of a certain breed of white person. Turns out, by their definition, I'm pretty white.

I know. I was surprised, too.

• Like most white people, I like a little diversity in my diet. I eat mostly frozen pizza and cold cereal, but when I want to impress a date, I usually spring for a swanky Thai or Indian place.
• I'm not really a big outdoorsman... but I frequently feel bad about it.
• I haven't seen much of Wes Anderson's work, but The Fantastic Mr. Fox is one of his, right?
• My favorite television shows include BOTH The Colbert Report and Arrested Development.
• Am I working on a novel? Yes I am! Will I finish it one day? Probably. Heck, I got a BA in Creative Writing.
• Do I love sweaters? Yes, I do.
• While I DO, in fact, own a TV, I am immensely proud of the fact that I don't have cable hookup.
• To some extent, I listen to hip-hop. Word.
• You know who's cute? Zooey Deschanel.
• Grammar? Heck, good grammar's a sexy must!
• I absolutely refuse to shop at Wal-Mart.
• I have had probably the easiest breakups of anyone I know, but would you know it from talking to me about it?

So, yeah, I think I have to say that I'm pretty white. Sorry about that.

Confessions: Calvin and Hobbes

1 - Back when I was a child, growing up in an unfinished basement in West Valley City, Utah, my best friend and I would spend long hours lying on the floor, reading "Calvin and Hobbes" out loud. We each took turns reading for the different characters. Years later, these same jokes still make me laugh.

(By the way, his most recent blog post deals with his feelings towards the death of Osama Bin Ladin. Mine is all about this cool sequence I read in a Superman comic. Obviously, one of us has grown into his responsibility a little better than the other.)

2 - I've actually tried to play Calvinball before.


It... wasn't as fun as I'd hoped.

3 - I got a stuffed tiger for Christmas when I was five years old that I named "Nicholas." After coercion from my brothers, I changed the tiger's name to "Hobbes." Years later, I can finally concede that they were right.

4 - Back when I was in third or fourth grade, I decided to dress up as Stupendous Man for Halloween. I didn't dress up in the full Stupendous Man costume, though. In what I thought was a brilliant move, I dressed up as "Calvin dressed up as Stupendous Man" - complete with purple cape, red and black striped shirt, and black pants.


To this day, it's probably my favorite Halloween costume I ever had - and I also dressed up one year as a super awesome witch doctor.

My mom made the best Halloween costumes, and that's a fact.

5 - Every time I read this comic:


...my mind totally locks in on that second panel. I always picture Calvin, suddenly standing alone in a spotlight, singing the words "By ode dad id tryig to gill me" to an audience booing and hissing Calvin's dad.

It's totally weird.

6 - A friend of mine (to whom I am NOT engaged!) tried to start calling me "Hobbes" recently. It hasn't really stuck - which is a shame, because if I could pick a nickname, "Hobbes" would be a pretty good one.

Instead, I get "Braddy Buns." Man...

Power Panels 4

I've made my love for Grant Morrison's superhero work pretty apparent, so it should come as no surprise that I absolutely love the artwork that goes along with his stories. While All Star Superman is a genius piece of fiction, at least half the work is done by powerhouse artist Frank Quitely.

There's a lot of story told in the few panels Quitely's given to draw, and, somehow, he manages to cram a lot of information into just two or three pictures. Take the below sequence, for example:


I completely missed this little moment when I first read All Star Superman. It's pretty simple what happens, actually: Clumsy Clark Kent notices some falling debris, so he "accidentally" trips into a passing man, slowing him up and saving his life. All the while, he's carrying on a conversation with Lois Lane as if nothing is happening. It's a pretty standard move for the Superman character - in fact, there's almost nothing special about this sequence (other than how well it's rendered, of course).

The reason this sequence appeals to me so much is that, for three brief panels, we almost see two separate stories unfolding:

1. The story of Clark and Lois and their conversation.
2. The story of the man walking his dog

So, really, these three panels form an "X," with two different narrative lines meeting up in the middle for one brief exchange, then each story again going off on its own. Of course, we DON'T follow the man any further down the street, because no matter WHO he is, he likely won't be doing anything more interesting than, say, punching a robot sun so hard it explodes with a giant mushroom cloud.


Theoretically, though, this sequence makes me realize that, in the comics format, it is entirely possible to tell two different (though connected) stories AT THE SAME TIME without NEARLY the hassle that the same task would demand in a movie or novel.

And that, to me, is just plain cool.

Water for Elephants and the Art of Pain

I went with a friend this weekend to see Water for Elephants, a movie I'd heard absolutely nothing about. I've seen the book at Barnes and Noble a couple of times and long thought it'd be one I'd want to pick up, but I just never got around to it.

I have to say that I'm pretty darn surprised that I watched a romance starring Robert Pattinson. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Edward plays a vet school dropout who jumps aboard a circus train and stumbles into a job caring for the animals. While he didn't exactly IMPRESS me, he wasn't horrible at all (so I may have to take back a few of the negative things I've said about the guy). Reese Witherspoon plays his love interest - a trick horse rider and the wife of an unbalanced and violent circus owner, Christoph Waltz.

Just to restate: we've got mental illness, spousal abuse, and adultery in what Roger Ebert calls "good sound family entertainment."

So once the movie ended, my friend and I got into a bit of a discussion about morality in movies. Specifically, my friend felt that the movie seemed to condone adultery. Witherspoon's husband frequently attacked (occasionally killing) workers who dissatisfied him, so she SHOULD be unfaithful to her marriage, because he's a jerk and he deserves it.

Of course, spousal abuse is a troubling issue and I don't want to make light of it. I wouldn't EVER recommend that anyone stay in an abusive relationship (and I doubt my friend would, either). That said, I don't think The PointTM of Water for Elephants was to support adultery or to glorify an immoral lifestyle.

I consoled my friend by pointing out that... well, if you've SEEN the movie, you know that there's a lot of misery spread around between ALL members of this particular love triangle (and, if you haven't seen it, I'm trying to be vague so as not to spoil anything). No one goes "unpunished," I guess, for violating the sanctity of marriage or whatever. But, again, I doubt that the story is meant to pass moral judgment one way or the other.

It reminds me of the story of Asher Lev, a Jewish boy who is ostracized by his community for creating art that they found morally offensive. Yet Asher's goal was NEVER to alienate his kin, but to express capital "T" Truth, which is often unpleasant and unflattering.

That's how I felt about Water for Elephants - it's conveying a reality that is decidedly horrible. Thankfully, it ends more or less happily, but the characters wade through more than a bit of misery before they get to that point, as we in the "real world" often do.

The whole conflict of "art vs. virtue" reminds me a bit of THIS guy:

No, I'm not just shoehorning in a Superman picture to relate yet another serious topic to comic books.

There's an argument out there that Superman stories are universally terrible because the man is so PERFECT that there's no room for dramatic storytelling. I adopt the stance that Superman stories are compelling BECAUSE of how "perfect" he is. Superman represents everything virtuous and good - and, you know, sometimes it's nice to get a reminder that there ARE silver linings to focus on. The character exists pretty much solely to encourage OTHERS to do good, and THAT'S what makes his stories so engaging.

Of course, reading nothing but inspirational Superman stories would get to be pretty bland after a while, which is why I sometimes turn to entertainment that's a little bit darker:


I guess my point is that there is a place for violence, sex, and other distasteful subject matter in art - even for the religiously orthodox. Now, I wouldn't fault anyone for avoiding such subject matter (I found I had to duck my head for a bit during one of the more intense love scenes in Water for Elephants), but I don't think that we can expect all art to be "wholesome" all the time.

Finally, just because an artist chooses to write about a difficult subject doesn't mean she endorses the behavior. More likely than not, I imagine she just wants to provoke discussion and thought - a good use of energy, if you ask me.

Of course, some entertainment is just MEANT to be mindless, and there's a place for that, too.