Archive | 10:43 pm

Grammar, capes, and me

9 Nov

from January 3, 2007

It is very interesting to me, and I’m the one who counts, that I can carry on epic email conversations with people that I see every day. If I’m not doing anything else and I’m on the computer, which is always, I can send umpteen bamillion emails, and I never let anything end because, let’s face it, I’m fascinating on the email, in person not so much. The real interesting part is that these massive electronic communiqués (HA! Take that!) are not, at all, ever referred to in any real, verbal, conversations that I may have in person, face to face, with the person to whom (proper use of “whom”- 5 points!) I am speaking. [And this is where I take a 90-degree turn and shift topic. Sit back and enjoy.] Go back and reread that last sentence. I’ll wait..………… Done? OK. I don’t talk like that. Yet I write like that.  I’m writing this more or less on the fly, composed in my head as I type, unedited. I wonder what an editor would do to this? First, the parenthetical asides (See? I am a writer. “Parenthetical asides” indeed. Sometimes I make myself sick with my smug intelligence.) would go. (Don’t you hate it when the aforementioned “parenthetical asides” are longer than the sentences they are interrupting? Here is the same sentence sans parentheses: First, (and should that be “firstly”? Ah crap, now I have to start over.) First, the parenthetical asides would go. Second(ly?) there are six(!) commas and about a thousand or so clauses in there. (Yet not one sanity clause. (“You can’t fool me. There’s no such thing as Santy Claus,” My first Chico Marx reference!)) Go back and check- that double parentheses is not a typo, though technically I should have used brackets inside the parenthesis. But who gives a fuck? Oh- I need to close the original parentheses here.) Done. This is like the second time I’ve had fun with parentheses in a blog. Go back and check. And yes, this is fun to me. And no, I refuse to break paragraphs here. This is a stream-of-consciousness deal here, so live with it. You only read this, but this ACTUALLY GOES ON IN MY HEAD. [And this is where I return to the original topic. You may need to reread the first few lines. It is all very confusing.] As I was saying, my conversations at work with real people are totally separate from the email conversations I have with the same people. Frankly, this is all I have to say about that. Let’s change topics again. Let’s talk about the death of James Brown. This was a very sad event. It was the end of an era. James Brown was, you see, perhaps the last man who could legitimately wear a cape. No one wears capes anymore. I don’t mean like superheroes. I mean real people. The fat Elvis wore capes; silly sequined ones, but capes nonetheless. Old British nannies wore capes, as did old British cops. Frank Costanza’s lawyer wore one. (And there I go violating the “real people rule,” but I love that episode and it was Larry David in the cape, and it ended with the line “Who are you?” “I’m Frank Costanza’s lawyer” so I’ll break the damn rule.) The movie star to whom all others are compared, and all others fall short, Bela Lugosi, wore a cape. He was buried in a cape! Tell me that’s not cool. So when James Brown died a certain era, a certain way of life, died with him. Like Frank Sinatra (Senior, not Junior- and who else laughed at my “Frank Sinatras Junior and Senior” joke in my last bulletin? Oh, only me.) Like Frank Sinatra before him (ignore the sentence fragment) Like Frank Sinatra before him, James Brown was the epitome of a certain, not just style, but way of living. Sinatra had that tough guy, macho, beat-up-the-commies swagger of the 1950’s and James Brown had something similar I’m sure but he had a cape too, damn it. Who else today can wear a cape? (I would have said Gerald Ford, had he not died. And now I’m using him as a mediocre joke in a James Brown gag. How sad. For me, not him.) Think about it. Would Tom Hanks wear a cape? Would Sir Ian McKellan wear a cape? Would Ludacris wear a cape? I think not, sir. (Say that in an offended upper class British accent for the full effect. Perhaps something out of Python.) So with James Brown goes the end of the cape era. But one question remains- what the hell should I do with all my capes? I have like a closet full of them and I don’t want to look like an idiot. I’m not going to wear them in public. People will think I’m mocking James Brown.

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My Review of Rocky Balboa

9 Nov

from January 2, 2007

Rocky Balboa is a rare sixth film. Sixth films are rare in general. Off the top of my head, I can recall Star Trek VI, The Undiscovered Country and Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (thanks to George Lucas, episode three is really the sixth film). I thought that Star Trek VI was a very good, even smart at times, movie, with enough nods to the past and a sense of closure to bring the adventures of the original crew to an end, with the exception of the terrible Generations. On the other hand, there was the awful Revenge of The Sith, a film so bad that Lucas took a can’t-miss story (the birth of Darth Vader) and missed by a mile, with a stupid plot, awful acting, sad writing, and video-game special effects. (I know a lot of you like that film. Sorry, you are so wrong.) Going back to the black and white era, the Sherlock Holmes franchise with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce ran for fourteen films, and most were pretty good. But times have changed.

Rocky Balboa is a very good film.

Let’s pause and recap the series before we go on.

Rocky was a four-star classic. We all know the story. A great film in which the underdog didn’t have to win the fight, he just had to go the distance and prove that he belonged. Wonderful acting, great characterization, and a touching and intelligent script.

Rocky II was almost as good as the first. Here, Rocky finally made it. However, the real strength of the film was in the story of Rocky as a person. After the first film, Rocky was still functionally illiterate. He had money but no way to manage it, or keep it. He had no future, and nowhere to go. Only a rematch with Apollo Creed could make him someone, and Apollo had to give it to him since no one believed that Rocky lost the first fight and Apollo would always be dogged with that specter.

Rocky III was good, but by no means great. It logically continued the story of Rocky as he contemplated retirement, but had to fight one last time to prove to everyone that he deserved all he had, since Mickey fed him a string of weak challengers to protect him from injury.

Rocky IV and Rocky V were silly. Rocky promoting peace with the Soviets and fighting in the streets. Silly.

But then Rocky Balboa came along and redeemed the franchise. No one expected this movie to be good. Rocky (and Stallone) is sixty years old. All the jokes were already made. No one thought that this film would be any better than the last two. They were wrong. This film, though not a classic, is a worthy successor to the first two films and a great way to end this franchise.

(WARNING: THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT)

As the film opens, Rocky is mourning Adrian, who died a few years ago. Rocky has slowly lost everyone in his life. Prior to this film, that was a complaint of mine, that in every recent Rocky film someone had to die. Mickey died in three, Apollo died in four, and his relationship with his son died in five. By the time this film opens, its just Rocky and Paulie, and a lot of memories. Just like the real-life Jack Dempsey, Rocky is running a restaurant, spending his nights recounting his past glories and his days mourning Adrian. (The Dempsey comparison is right up front, especially when Rocky wears a T-shirt with “Dempsey” written across the front.) Rocky drags Paulie along with him as he revisits the important places in his life with Adrian. And it is a touching scene where Paulie tells Rocky that he can’t go with him anymore. Those memories are happy for Rocky, he explains, but not for him. He is sorry about the bad way he treated Adrian. Paulie is also suffering. The years haven’t been kind to either of them.

Rocky has a bad relationship with his son, and other than Paulie no relationships at all. That’s why it is touching how Rocky befriends a woman, Little Marie,  who was a young child in the original and now a single mother. There is never any hint of a romance here- Rocky is too faithful to Adrian, but rather this is a bond between two people who just need other people.

Rocky, needing something, anything, in his life, gets his boxing license back with the intention of just doing some small local fights, almost the way he began. It doesn’t go that way.

Mason Dixon is the current heavyweight champ. In all the other films, Rocky had a fearsome opponent. Apollo Creed was an undefeated champion, and beloved by the public. Clubber Lang was a brutal monster. Drago was a Soviet boxing machine. Mason Dixon, by contrast, is a disrespected champion. He never had any good opponents, and never was tested. He is the champ of a pretty lame group of heavyweights. After a computer simulation between him and Rocky shows him losing, Mason challenges Rocky. It is important that Mason Dixon is not portrayed as a beast like Lang or a boxer like Creed- Rocky at this stage of the game could never go a minute with one of them. An older, slower Rocky needs a comparable opponent. Really, however, Rocky is just fighting time. The opponent in this film is almost a MacGuffin.

The end of the fight was never in doubt. Like the first film, it ends in a split decision for the champion. But Rocky doesn’t even stay in the ring for the announcement. All smiles, he walks back to the dressing room amid chants of “Rocky, Rocky.” The old man just had to go the distance, prove he belonged, and quiet some of his demons.

There were some problems with this film. The relationship with his son was rectified a little too simply. Little Marie’s son is introduced for no real reason. Mason Dixon has a story that looks like much of it was left on the cutting room floor. In some ways, his story might have echoed Rocky’s, as he went back to his old neighborhood and trainer, but nothing is made of that. Even Paulie lost his job but nothing was made of it. (I, knowing how people tend to die in these films, worried that Paulie was going to commit suicide.)

Paulie has undergone a transformation too. He has gone from hating Rocky, to resenting Rocky, to now loving rocky. Paulie here is a friend and family to rocky. Together, they are two old men, one living in the past, the other stuck in the present.

The end of the film is just a feel-good finale, but in this film it fits. The whole film is a good character piece. There is a sense in the whole movie of just how lonely Rocky is and how much he needs a happy ending. No matter where he goes, there are people who want to shake his hand, get an autograph, or take a picture, but it is the old story of being alone in a crowd. There is no one for Rocky to connect with. He gets his happy ending here, and no one can help but be happy for him. His son is back, he proved himself, he goes out a winner. This is the right point for the franchise to end. It goes out on a high note. This film, like Rocky himself, proved that it belonged.

While some may complain about the flashbacks and training scenes- all designed to tug at your emotions- they just added to the wonderful sense of nostalgia, history, time, and closure. And who wouldn’t smile at seeing Rocky (and his dog) running up the steps one last time?

All the jokes about Rocky, about the franchise, have been blown away with this well-done, smart, and touching final installment. The series has gone out with dignity and it’s head held high.

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