MOVIE REVIEW: Iron Man


I went to see Iron Man at the Madison Theater in Albany. There were 4 people in the theater – four – on a Sunday afternoon of Memorial Day weekend. This breaks the previous record for second smallest audience I’ve been in for a film. Worse than the six people with whom I saw both “Raising Arizona” and “Requiem for a Dream.” The only movie I ever attended with the worst audience numerically was when I sat alone for a matinee showing of “Spy Kids.”

Just before I saw the movie, I was playing an album by Pete Townsend called “Iron Man”, which was the basis for the animated film “The Iron Giant”, which I love. There’s a character in the “Iron Man” movie that looks not unlike a malevolent “Iron Giant.” But you’ll have to see that for yourself.

This movie theater showed six previews. One was for the new Indy Jones movie, which had opened nationally, but not yet at that location; maybe I’ll see it. The M. Night Shyamalan movie “The Happening”; the title reminds me of a dorky Supremes song that did better on the pop charts than it did the R&B charts; since I still have the Andromeda Strain to watch on the DVR, taped from A&E, I think I’ll pass. I’m mortified to note that I laughed, just a little, at the preview for that Adam Sandler Zotan film. There was the Incredible Hulk; I never saw the Ang Lee version from five years back, but this looks interesting. There was The Dark Knight, which seemed to feature the Joker more than Bruce Wayne and Batman combined; I might catch it. The sixth movie I forget; Prine Caspian? The Stranger? I don’t remember.

I should note that Iron Man was never my favorite Marvel character. I came to superhero comics in the early 1970s, but I went back to know well the origins of characters such as Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men and the Hulk. Yet I wasn’t that involved in Iron Man’s, save for its Viet Nam roots. Actually, I’ve just reread it, and it’s just not all that interesting. (What IS interesting is that it took Marvel to Volume 20 to put Shell-Head in a Marvel Masterworks, whereas characters such as Spidey and even the Silver Surfer had already warranted multiple volumes.) So, I always felt Iron Man was a minor player, even though he was an Avenger.

That said, all the reviews I’ve seen talk about how great Robert Downey, Jr. is as the snarky Tony Stark, and I have to agree. As a long-time comic book reader, I thought the character was dull, and boring, and a tad bit fascistic. So to see Tony Stark evolve in the movie was a gratifying, rewarding evolution. The change from Southeast Asia to Afghanistan was well-conceived. Jeff Bridges, Gwynneth Paltrow, and Terence Howard were all very strong in their roles. One movie reviewer has suggested that there was more sexual tension between Downey’s Stark character and Paltrow’s Pepper Potts than you might find in your recent lame movie romances such as “27 Dresses” or “Made of Honor.” Not having seen either of those films, I can’t speak to the comparison, but there was definitely chemistry there.

Apparently my three compatriots in the theater hadn’t heard about the big reveal at the end of the movie credits, for a couple left as soon as the end credits began, while the other woman departed after the snazzy outro that utilized the music of Black Sabbath. If you somehow haven’t seen the movie yet, just wait for it.

ROG

Underplayed Vinyl: Judy Collins


For my 16th birthday in March 1969, I received the album Who Knows Where the Time Goes from my friend Lois, who I had known since kindergarten. Even as she was giving the LP, she gave me this whopping caveat said, “I hope you like it. It’s kinda country.” Well, some of it was for certain, but it was far more eclectic than I was led to expect.
Hello Hooray – Starts off mysteriously softly, almost inaudibly, before breaking into a stirring rock tune, featuring Steve Stills on the guitar. Yes, this is the same song that Alice Cooper later covered.
Story of Isaac – A Leonard Cohen tune featuring only harpsichord and organ about the Biblical character who was to be sacrificed to God by his father Abraham. I found this song particularly moving and put it on a mixed CD at some point.
My Father – A rare composition by Judy; interesting how she placed the two songs about fathers and their children together. This is a lovely biographical song in waltz time.

Someday Soon – One of those “country” songs with the pedal steel guitar that has become a Collins trademark, written by Ian Tyson.

The title tune – Written by Sandy Denny, it is an equisite mournful anthem where the piano, guitar and bass set off Judy’s voice marvelously.

Poor Immigrant- A Bob Dylan tune, also with pedal steel and Dobro.
First Boy I Loved – A much-covered Robin Williamson song about the title character growing to “a grown-up male stranger.” Having loved and lost since then, it is far more powerful to me now. There was a version of this song (First Girl I Loved) done by Jackson Browne for a tribute to Elektra Records called Rubaiyat.
Bird on the Wire – Another “country” tune, another Leonard Cohen tune, probably my favorite of the “country” tunes, because guitarist James Burton sounded as though he were having so much fun.

Pretty Polly – A murder ballad that starts softly, builds to the death – “He stabbed her through the heart, and her heart blood did flow,” pulls back musically for the burial, then rocks out to the end with Burton and Stills sharing guitar licks. This song was shocking to me at the time and still affecting today.

This album has been on and off my desert albums list for decades.

July Collins, born May 1, 1939, turns 69 today. I saw her perform live but once, in the early 1980s, in Glens Falls, NY after winning tickets on a radio contest the very day of the concert.

Oh, what the heck: Since You Asked from Wildflowers:

And this more elementary song:


ROG

BOOK REVIEW: Kirby: King of Comics


It seems I discovered Jack Kirby at the worst possible time. I started reading comics in the early 1970s, but I was pretty much a Marvel zombie, thus missing New Gods and the other books from his “Fourth World” until about a decade later. So when the “Jack is back!” mantra came to Marvel in the mid-1970s, I was excited to see the work of the legendary KING of comics. Boy, was I disappointed. Captain America seemed to be a character from another time. The formerly sleek Black Panther seemed cartoony. And Devil Dinosaur?!

So it wasn’t until I started working at a comic book store in Albany called FantaCo when I got to really get an understanding of Jack Kirby’s significance, and more importantly, tremendous skills in developing the Marvel universe that I knew and loved. And digging further, I recognized his prolific output in the pre-Marvel days.

But it took the Mark Evanier book, Kirby: King of Comics, before I got the full measure of the man born Jacob Kurzberg on August 28, 1913 in New York City. More than just a narrative, this small coffee-table presented artwork from his days as a comic strip writer working under several pseudonyms and his work for several comic book companies.

A couple core narratives flow through the book: 1) Jack was creative and fast, 2) Jack obsessed with financial security, though largely did not know how to achieve this, long before the disputes over what parts of the classic Marvel universe Jack was responsible for and how much writer/editor Stan Lee created. Jack, not always glib of tongue, had a strong sense of justice and often thought that his hard work would get him the financial remuneration to which he was undoubtedly entitled. If Evanier, Kirby’s assistant and friend for a number of years, tends to err on the side of his subject, it seems consistent with the throngs of Kirby fans who believe that Jack has gotten ripped off, not just monetarily but also in terms of credit.

This may not the definitive Kirby biography that some may have been seeking – at 219 pages, over half are full-page illustrations or pictures, and many other pages have accompanying art on them – but I’m happy to own it, perhaps BECAUSE of the many pictures from over the years. Incidentally, Amazon suggested that the book would take two to five weeks, but I ordered it on February 29, and it arrived on my birthday, March 7, a mere week later.

I spoke to Jack Kirby only a couple times, chronicled here. At that time, I was just beginning to get a sense of what a great contributor to comic-book art – no, scratch that, ART – he was.

One criticism of the book was that Evanier didn’t take advantage of his long association to dig deeper inside the man, but I get the sense that Jack was who Jack was, with no psychobabble analysis needed. And the one story that Mark told about himself and Jack at the end of the book was both moving and a good representation of Jack’s character.

So, thanks, Mark. And thank you, Jack.
***
ADD’s review.

ROG

MOVIE REVIEW: Elizabeth: the Golden Age


One night a couple weeks ago, I couldn’t sleep. So I got up and watched a DVD of the follow-up to Cate Blanchett’s Oscar-nominated role playing Queen Elizabeth I from nine seasons prior. I had really liked the earlier film, which I had seen in a place around here that serves food before the film. I was interested in the intrigue, and Blanchett was marvelous.

She’s still very good in this film, but the intrigue this time was so byzantine or so boring – I’m not sure which – that I didn’t much care. Geoffrey Rush’s Sir Francis Walsingham is skulking around on who knows what side of the issue.

I did rather enjoy Clive Owen as Sir Walter Raleigh and Abbie Cornish as Beth. In fact, it was when Raleigh first appears that I came out of my stupor.

If I remember correctly, the the number 1585 come up on the screen even before the title of the film. “I’ll bet that an event takes place three years hence will be in this movie,” I thought, and so it was, but it had a “I’ve seen it all before” quality.

I’m convinced that if you come into the movie with low expectations – the critics were generally unkind – then you might enjoy it for what it is, but it’s definitely a lesser epic.
***
I’ve now managed to see all five Best Actress performances for 2007. Historically, this is not all that unusual, but lately, it’s extraordinary. And if I were voting, I would have picked Julie Christie for Away From Her. Marion Cotillard lost points because she was lip-synching, quite well, to Edith Piaf and to Piaf sound-alike Jil Aigrot. My second favorite performance actually was Ellen Page in Juno.

ROG

MOVIE REVIEW: Atonement


The end of the orgy of Washington’s Birthday weekend cinema was Atonement, seen, as usual, at the Spectrum Theatre in Albany. I’ve seen the previews. YOU’VE probably seen the previews. If you did, you pretty well know how the first third of the movie turns out, with Briony Tallis, aged 13 (Oscar nominated (?!) Saoirse Ronan) does something that keeps Robbie Turner (James McAvoy) away from Briony’s sister Cecilia (Keira Knightley). Robbie goes to war, Briony (now played by Romola Garai) becomes a nurse. And at the end, Briony (Vanessa Redgrave) tells the whole story, and everyone lives happily ever after. Well, sort of.

I can’t tell you why, but much of this storytelling, after the twee British opening, save for one typed word (recently in the news) that we get to see more than once, complete with dramatic music, was very much at arm’s length. There was enough storyline substance that one should really care about the losses that Cecelia and especially Robbie went through. And in spite of the horrors of war, which was sufficiently gritty and grimy – an audible audience gasp at the treatment of animals, interestingly – I was largely uninvolved.

Finally, my wife, who liked it more than I, hit on the reason: it’s stagy. She could imagine our local Equity theater company doing an abridged version of it in a couple years. Lots of the post-English manor stuff FELT as though it were on a soundstage. It lacked…warmth.

If you WERE involved in the film, you will find the ending either heartbreaking or a very big cheat, not a real atonement at all. Since I wasn’t, it didn’t matter so much. This does explain why people initially praised this film to the hilt, then upon sober reflection seemed to have decided that it’s not so hot. Also, this film featured a lot of cigarette smoking to no particular end, save to say, “it’s the 1930s and 1940s and lots of people smoked.” Tobacco may have been in the novel, but in the film, it felt like an affectation.

I did enjoy Brenda Blethyn in the small role as Robbie’s mother, Grace. On the whole, though, eh.

ROG

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