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House of M (Review/Retrospective)

This is the third in a series of comic book reviews that will look at the direction of Marvel’s “Avengers” franchise over the past five or so years, as they’ve been attempting to position the property at the heart of their fictional universe. With The Avengers planned for a cinematic release in 2012, I thought I’d bring myself up to speed by taking a look at Marvel’s tangled web of continuity. Get an overview of what I’m trying to take a look at here.

The X-Men represent the oddball of mainstream superhero comic books. In a genre and medium dedicated offering a static setup – things never really change or resolve – the X-Men are built upon the very idea of evolution. The whole basis of the franchise is the pursuit of equality by the genetically distinct mutant population, the idea that they and mankind can grow together. It has even been frequently suggested that these super-powered individuals represent out future or our replacements. However, the only way to actually tell a story like that is to follow it through to its logical conclusion – to let the ball roll and to let the world change. It feels a little counterproductive for Charles Xavier and his students to still be fighting for the same rights as everyone else nearly fifty years on – it might even seem a little stale. Grant Morrison’s superb New X-Men run offered a solution of sorts – it gave us a world where humanity would be extinct in a couple of generations and showed the growth and relationship between human and mutant subculture. Gone was the minority struggling against an oppressive majority – a more complex example of race relations had come into play with “mutant music” and “mutant slang” making their impression on the youth, amid a silent and almost invisible middle-class backlash. This was an ingenious approach which demonstrated the relevance of the franchise. Unfortunately, Marvel were not quite pleased with this – some people even, ridiculously, accused Morrison of telling all the remaining X-Men stories – and decided to set things right. They did that through House of M.

Dive in...

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When Was the Last Time a Horror Film Gave You Nightmares?

We had a family outing at the weekend. We all went to see The Last Exorcism, on the recommendation of my gran. We were pretty much all disappointed, but to different degrees. Anyway, as we sat around the kitchen table at midnight, discussing the film, my gran and my aunt conceded that whenever they typically saw a film about demons, they had trouble sleeping – even the camp horror of The Devil Rides Through or the courtroom-focused drama of The Exorcism of Emily Rose. However, neither would have any real trouble sleeping that night (and, the following morning, both seemed perfectly rested). So it got me thinking, perhaps the perfect measure of a horror movie’s effectiveness is how afraid it makes you as you lay yourself down to rest. So, when was the last time you had trouble sleeping?

A stab in the dark...

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Non-Review Review: The Last Exorcism

The fundamental problem with The Last Exorcism is that it tries to be too many things, while being unwilling to completely invest in any of them. Is it an exploration of the culture of “showy exorcisms” (where the preacher himself refers to it as “a sham”)? Is it a jerky, handheld homage to The Exorcism, filtered through Paranormal Activity? Is it an indictment of small insular communities and the sinister ideas which may underpin them, as in The Wicker Man? It seems to be all three at once, which is a problem, as the three don’t gel together too well in a two-hour film.

The movie certainly isn't a blessing...

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Hear Me Out…

Just a quick note to let you know that the wonderful guys over at The Film Cynics have put up yesterday’s show, featuring yours truly as a very honoured (but apparently none-too-humbled guest). It was a joy to work with the guys and an absolute pleasure to spend an hour just talking about random film stuff.

I like to voice my opinion...

The Whole Truth: How “True” Are “True Stories”?

Something that has always made me wonder is how close to reality film and television are or are not. Sometimes this is expressed in abstract terms – for example whether Baltimore is really as bad as it is made out to be in The Wire. However, it’s much more direct when one looks at what claims to be a true story. Reality isn’t film. Things don’t always break down to key “moments”. Events play out over the long term, and sometimes subtly. There isn’t always a bad guy or an antagonist. There certainly always isn’t a happy ending. So naturally amendments need to be made, because these events need to be translated to drama. But where is the line? How far can you stretch the truth until it breaks?

Staying true to yourself...

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Non-Review Review: Ondine

I like Neil Jordan. He’s probably the greatest Irish director, and one of the few directors who can switch back and forth between big Hollywood productions like The Brave One and quirkier Irish films like Ondine, with neither feeling particularly strange or inappropriate for its particular genre. Ondine is Jordan’s attempt at a lowkey Irish fairytale, told in a small fishing village down in Cork – calling to mind the sort of stereotypical portrayal of country life in Ireland, filled with drunkards and gossiping locals, where everyone knows everyone else and a stranger is instantly remarked upon. It’s to Jordan’s credit that the film works as well as it does. The director manages to create a genuine sense of magic and whimsy which carries a large portion of the film. However, like most magic and slight of hand, if you look too closely you’re liable to figure out that nothing’s going on.

Does Neil Jordan's latest hold water?

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I’m on the Radio!

I’m on the radio tonight, with the guys over at The Film Cynics. You can listen at 11:00pm GMT and 3:00pm PST at CFAX 1070. I’m really looking forward to it, and it’s a huge honour to be invited. Feel free to check it out.

Bats isn’t in my Belfry: Nolan’s Batman & Superman and the Inevitable Justice League Film…

Word filtering through the grapevine is that we can expect a “big announcement” from Warner Brothers and DC comics in the next few weeks. Two words seem to be on everybody’s mind at the moment: Justice League. I mean, it makes sense. Warner Brothers are in real need of a new cashcow franchise. There’s only so long they can pump out Harry Potter movies (the final one is due out next year), and the DC comics titles offer a nearly bottomless pile of untapped fantasy-esque cookie-cutter blockbuster-ready properties that they can churn out with instant-ready popularity and geek appeal. And, let’s face it, Marvel has demonstrated with at least Iron Man and Iron Man 2 (if not The Incredible Hulk) that a shared film universe is a profitable investment. Warner and DC certainly missed the train on that one. They must regard their rivals with envious eyes, and slowly and surely they drew their plans against them. And, to be frank, DC is in a much better position than Marvel to exploit this team-up. Marvel sold the Fantastic Four, the X-Men (including Wolverine) and Spider-Man to different companies, effectively meaning that they can’t be included in Marvel’s on-screen universe. However, DC hasn’t sold any big names. However, it has a problem. Christopher Nolan – the man in charge of both Batman and Superman – has decided that he doesn’t want to share. And maybe that’s not a bad thing, after all. 

Should Superman sit this one out?

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Non-Review Review: Adaptation

I sit down. I stare at the screen. I have to write a review. I probably shouldn’t. What do I say? I mean, do I get the film, do I understand it? It’s all very meta-fictional and heavy, a little too meta-fictional perhaps. I pause. Did I just type the words “a little too meta-fictional”? I read back up a line. I did. I sigh. Reviewing Charlie Kaufman is hard work. Reviewing Adaptation is really hard. Why can’t I review something simple, you know with gunfights and car chases and a standard three-act structure? Yeah, something bland, something boring.

Hm. I could really use a line break here.

I could make a pun about brothers here, but that's a bit trite, isn't it?

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Sometimes I’m Not Proud to be Irish…

Today is Arthur’s Day. I find myself almost subconsciously putting “St.” in front of that, because only saints have days, right? Anyway, only in Ireland could we sell a day around a guy who invented “the black stuff”. I think Guinness should be proud of marketing the whole thing so well. Anyway, this being perhaps the second most Irish day of the year, I thought I’d reflect very briefly on being Irish. I recently praised the forward-thinking work of former Irish Film Censor John Kelleher in attempting to remove our nation’s reputation for frankly backwards censorship – not an easy task when you consider we’ve got our own blasphemy law. Anyway, Kelleher rebranded his office the Irish Film Classification Office (IFCO), because he saw his role as classifying movies (rating them) as opposed to cutting or censoring them (“I don’t believe in censorship for adults”). It appears that it hasn’t taken too long for the office to return to its roots since his departure, the video nasty I Spit on Your Grave has been banned in Ireland by the office of the film censor.

I spit on your freedom of expression...

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