Humble pie in regards to "Absolute Zero"

Because I've taken some undergrad classes, I like to think of myself as a Science Expert. (Sarcasm intended, although I do struggle with occasional knowitallism.) I raged pretty hard at Absolute Zero in a previous post:

B Through Z: Absolute Zero (2006): With a catchphrase that will make you want to physically accost the screenwriter, this made-for-TV disaster flick revolves around the premise that the magnetic field of the earth can flip on a dime and that's what makes things cold.

But it turns out that there is evidence that the magnetic field of the earth can, in fact, spontaneously reverse, inducing climate change. There is evidence of it happening 42,000 years ago as told through ancient New Zealand trees, as related in this NPR article.

...well, balls.

But I refuse to accept the catchphrase of Absolute Zero, being "science is never wrong." 'Cause my science was.

Critical or reaction media: enjoy responsibly.

I like MST3K. I like McMansion Hell. I like RedLetterMedia. I like Let's Plays. I like Dungeons and Dragons podcasts. I find myself drawn to media where I experience someone else experiencing something, usually with an element of petty judgment or crassness.

Folks have a lot of ideas on why this is such a draw. Some imply that critical or reaction media are a kind of crutch or vice in contrast to real arts or entertainment. For example, I've heard people say that kids are too lazy to even play video games anymore - they watch other people do it. But listen: what entertainment isn't some kind of distraction, escape, or "lazy" activity? Instead of watching Citizen Kane, you could be teaching an inner city child to read, or drilling a well in an impoverished country. Gatekeeping-type folks can use more "meaningful" forms of arts or entertainment to feel better about themselves, too. You get something out of art or entertainment that makes you feel better about yourself. You could learn something or gain a perspective that opens up your world. But why do you watch a movie, attend a ballet, etc., at its core? To cope with life's chaotic nature and find order and meaning in it. At least, that's how I see things.

I could argue that the act of experiencing someone else experiencing something implies a higher level of engagement: accessing the media while also accessing another person's analysis. I could also talk about how such media is a comfort when someone doesn't have a lot of friends to hang out with - especially during a pandemic - and watching or listening to people experiencing something feels like I am spending time with humans, or I am not so alone. But I think there are bigger fish to fry.

There is a danger to forms of reactional or critical media - I'll admit it. It's like having a beer after a hard day versus being crippled by alcoholism.

The Only Good Bug is a Dead Bug: A film class [bad?] movie essay

            When Starship Troopers was first released, it was pegged as a senseless action flick for 11 year-old boys (Ebert, 1997). Under the surface, however, it’s ripe for analysis. It could function as a blunt science fiction monster film; humanity travels at light speed to fight mindless swarms of Others­ – aliens which are simply called “Bugs.” As an exploitative horror film, it consists of tropes like gratuitous nudity and decapitation. Machine guns, grenades, and spaceships dominate the combat scenes, featuring a bombastic score by Conan the Barbarian composer Basil Poledouris. However, at its core, Starship Troopers is a thinking man’s war film, and a layered commentary that critics like Roger Ebert couldn’t quite grasp in 1997. It’s ultimately a movie with a message – one that is being unearthed as it became more and more relevant in the 2000s, 2010s, to the present.

Who Exploits the Exploiters? An English class bad movie essay

            Roger Corman refused to finish reading an article in The New York Times after the columnist described him as a producer of B movies – not “exploitation” films, as he preferred (Miller 34). Corman began his career in the 1950s with creature features like Attack of the Crab Monsters, adapting through the decades to sell audiences more pop culture, more skin, more scares, and more gore than the mainstream, all on a shoestring budget. Cynthia J. Miller summarized in her essay “Remember: Only You Can Prevent Roger Corman” that the mogul is indeed an exploiter, even beyond the titillating on-screen content; he exploits “hot topics of the day, the distributors like American Releasing Corporation that bargained them into theaters, the cast and crew who worked on them, [and] the gullibility of motion picture audiences and their wallets” (35). Over 400 films bear Corman’s name, but Deathstalker separates itself as a recurring force in the world of exploitation. Its making, reception, and legacy accomplish more than a flippant profit. The film perennially serves as a target for other exploiters and advocates of social justice.

The Final Comedown (1972)

Here in the United States, it is Black History month. We could:

1.  Learn about how Claudette Colvin beat Rosa Parks to the civil disobedience thing by 9 months but didn't get as much publicity because she wasn't the right kind of black woman;
2. Google Kwanzaa to finally figure out what the deal is;
3. Watch The Help (the white person's way to feel heartwarmingly guilty for an hour and a half before going right back to being a racist asshole);
4. Bitch and moan about how there's no white history month;

But instead? We're going to watch blaxploitation movies - those glorious flicks from the '70s that were either empowering or damning to black Americans, depending on who you ask. They feature pimps, violence, foxy ladies, kung-fu, and damn funky soundtracks.
I recently bought a DVD set featuring 15 movies, billed "Urban Action Cinema". Like they were trying really hard not to use the b-word. Why? People love blaxploitation. Besides, when you search Amazon for the keyword "blaxploitation", the DVDs are the first thing to come up. What's the world coming to? Be loud and proud, TGG Direct.

Without further ado, I will introduce today's film from said DVD set.

Billy Dee Williams - known to nerds as Lando Calrissian - stars as the leader of an underground movement of black freedom fighters. If the white man started the violence, does a brother have to show violence in kind? Is the violence justified? Where does it stop?

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Yes, you should. I'll start off by saying this isn't a bad movie per se, which was actually a pleasant surprise. Check this one out, but don't bring out the popcorn expecting it to be a barrel of laughs.

PARTICIPATION
1. Every time someone talks about pigs, chant "pig" along with the scene.
2. Yell "boobies!" during sex scenes where nipples are present.
3. Take a drink for bad, stock, or lack of sound effects.
4. Dance and "wocka-chicka" along to the sweet music.
5. Discuss!


THE SUMMARY
Billy Dee Williams is the angry and headstrong Jimmy, and we first see him fleeing from a force of pigs who are chasing down him and his militia. He is mortally wounded, and as he lies in a back alley surrounded by loyal supporters, we're led through a series of flashbacks showing us how it came to this.

Jimmy is a headstrong, super angry, highly idealistic young person, much to the chagrin of his parents, and even some other senior members of the militia. He never stops telling people how the black man is trapped by society and has to claim his rights. Even in the midst of afterglow with lovely ladies.

He's convinced that terrorist acts and explicit murder of cops are the only way to wake people up to the societal prison that continues to confine black folks. Some try to convince him that things are better than they were. But Jimmy just shakes his head and scowls as he watches his mom come home from work as a maid, or an elderly man shines a white man's shoes. He gets turned down for a job because he's black, despite a college education. He is pissed off and shit is about to get real.

Something else this movie addressed, which I thought was interesting, was the potential role of white allies. A bunch of idealistic but naive college studies vow to join Jimmy's revolution, but they have cold feet about the whole killing cops thing.

Will Jimmy get help before he succumbs to his wounds? What will become of the revolution? Why, you'll just have to watch it to find out.

So this movie was less blaxploitation and, indeed, urban action cinema; half of the movie is the extended gunfight, and the movie is not shy about killing people off. Fair enough, TFF Direct! Now, in the wake of events like Ferguson and the #BlackLivesMatter movement, some of the topics addressed here, 40 years later, still feel rather appropriate. Have we actually gotten anywhere since 1972?

 

Author's Note: This draft was written on February 13, 2015. Hello from 2021, where, holy mackerel, this is still relevant. Again. Still?

Message From Space (1978)

It's 1977. Star Wars mania is sweeping the globe. You're a Japanese filmmaker and you, too, have been inspired by Star Wars (emotionally, fiscally, or both). So. What else could you possibly do except make a goddamned Star Wars rip-off?! Fucking Star Wars, guys!

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
For reals. You get to see a historical piece of Star Wars hype, as well as some pretty distinct Japanese cinematography and costumes of the era. How they mix is fascinating. I would say this is a must for anyone who owns "Han Shot First" memorabilia, and/or has seen at least a couple Kurosawa flicks. If you've seen Sandy Frank's Fugitive Alien series, do not miss it for anything.

PARTICIPATION
1. When someone says "Jillucia", correct them by shouting "Alderaan". Find the other comparisons and enjoy your outbursts. Make them your own. Throw in some obscenities. There's a good boy.
2. When the evil forces appear on screen, do your best Rita Repulsa.
3. Throw in some Akira Kurosawa references for good measure. Or just shout random Japanese phrases like "NANDA YO!".
4. Vomit whenever the main theme (the blatant, same-key-and-everything rip-off of Obi-Wan's theme) is played.
5. Seriously? It's Star Wars. Geek out.

THE SUMMARY
The story is pretty basic. There's an evil force in the act of conquering an impossibly peaceful people. A wise sage sends 8 seeds into the galaxy. These seeds will seek out heroes who are destined to save the people. Moral dilemmas occur. Adventure happens. Good guys win!

What's interesting is that a vast majority of the finders of the Liabe Seeds are reluctant hero types, who are not at all interested in having anything to do with saving anybody. I kind of like that. (Luke Skywalker always came off to me as an overeager Herbalife salesperson.) We also spend a bulk of the movie meeting our characters and developing them well before any actual saving enters the picture, like a sort of space Goonies. I kind of like that, too. There's a heap of Japanese actors here, and then American ones - I assume to cater to the North American market and therefore a potential cash cow. What I didn't like was the manic muppet direction, which looks like it might have cost a few people some torn ligaments. Actors are flailing about having fist fights and tumbling down hills and shoving each other during emotional outbursts. I feel tired watching this. I am a tired old woman.

So let's talk about some more parallels, but break it down by character.

The Obi-Wan analog is Vic Morrow, a.k.a. the crusty and world-weary General Garuda. I knew I had heard Vic Morrow's name before, so I looked him up. He starred in a 1960s World War II drama called Combat!, and had a lot of guest roles in TV shows like The Twilight Zone and Bonanza.

Dee deedle dee deedle dee deedle dee GARUUUUDAAAAAAA!

Leia is actually split into two characters. The first is Princess Emeralida, who is serene, mystical,virginal, and the spokesperson for her people, trying to convince the heroes to hero up.

For a barren planet, they sure gotta lotta leaves going on.

The second is a spunky space chick who is bubbly and headstrong and cocksure and fumblydumbly. Here's how the story meeting went: "Now, let's see, we can't name her Leia... so what should we call her?"

NAILED IT.

  Level 10 Spunk alert!

There are the Luke/Han combo characters, namely the stunt flyin', risk-takin', fun-lovin', authority-challengin', fast-talkin' young buddies known as Aaron and Shiro. They find their Liabe Seeds when they crash their ships.

He's trying to extinguish confusing sexual feelings for his friend.

The Fire Extinguisher sequence, ladies and gentlemen.

Rounding out the Liabe Warriors are the robot, the noble warrior, the cowardly gambler, and the... mystery person whom I won't spoil for you. So here's some more screen captures.

Catching "space fireflies".

It's a... spaceship. With sails?

Even a space fantasy should take heed of the basic fact that the cold, black void of space will render you unconscious, if not frozen, within about 15 seconds. As a filmmaker, if you don't acknowledge the friggin' vacuum, it ceases to be a space fantasy. It becomes a space insane-suspension-of-disbelief. Just set it on a planet, jeez. But I guess we're supposed to be Star Wars-ing here, so Space!

Bad guys! Rawr!

You've gotta aim for the reactor to blow up the enemy base.

Careful, though... the opening is only 10 meters wide!

Not Star Wars.

X-Wing + Death Star ray.

Now allow me to drop the mic and step offstage.

Invisible Invaders (1959)

Oh yes. It's that time... time for bad alien invasion movies. With invisible aliens. Happy fucking new year, people!

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Be careful with black and white sci-fi movies. They are jaw-droppingly dull as a general rule. If you haven't forayed into MST3K episodes like Night Of The Blood Beast, maybe start there first. If you launch straight into this genre your eyeballs may fall out of their sockets. That said, it's a pretty enjoyable flick for the genre. It's got a bit of that Plan 9 From Outer Space + The Creeping Terror vibe to it.

PARTICIPATION
1. Take as many drinks as you dare for stock footage.
2. Argue with the narrator in the voice of Comic Book Guy.
3. Take a drink for shots of shuffling invisible "feet".
4. Shout random numbers for shots of clocks, gauges, and dials.
5. Take a drink for closed-circuit cameras with perfect cinematography.

THE SUMMARY
John Carradine (yes, David Carradine's dad!) is a nuclear scientist that's killed when his lab blows up. His buddy Droopy Dog shakes his fist at the establishment and declares, at the funeral, that he's giving up nuclear research and instead going to use his genius in the pursuit of world peace, unlike his dumb dead friend.

Way to make it all about you, asshole.

And, to Droopy's surprise, the corpse shows up on his doorstep a few hours later. Presumably because he has words.

"What was that bullshit at my funeral? Seriously."

Turns out that he's actually an alien who's taken over John Carradine's corpse for the sole purpose of delivering a message. Basically, "surrender, or we invisible dudes are gonna mess you up." Pretty classic stuff. But then that stuff immediately stops making sense. All the aliens inhabit corpses then, stumbling about at a snail's pace, which is supposed to be spooky-scary or something, but is really just kind of silly. I thought the whole corpse thing was just to deliver a message? Why would you ever stop being invisible by choice? It's the most advantageous thing you can possibly have as an invading force!

Turns out invisible aliens move incredibly slowly and drag their feet like tiny children.
Maybe the week-old corpses are a step up?

Nobody believes Droopy Dog when he says invisible aliens are coming. Yet the aliens chose him specifically - the survivor's guilt-haver who's just done a complete career 180, then resigned from the government commissions in which he had any clout - to deliver the warning of impending doom to the world's leaders. Here's a fucking idea. Do a bunch of invisible stuff. Then kill the president of some major country, inhabit his body, and speak to the public over radio or TV. I don't know who's more inept... the aliens or our "protagonist".

So we get to see 15 minutes of this guy pouting. Grab a beer.

When nobody believes Droopy Dog, the aliens decide to show the people of Earth that they're serious about destroying everything. They accomplish this by waiting for a plane to crash, inhabiting the body of the dead pilot, and making him wander into an arena in Syracuse, New York to announce the invasion to the audience at a goddamned hockey game.

INVISIBLE INVADERS!

 
Stock footage starts telling us how the incredibly slow, lumbering aliens are "sabotaging" the world via explosions and things. Then John Agar shows up and starts being an awesome military guy who punches and shoots people. Finally, someone I can get behind. He bosses around Droopy, his daughter, and his colleague in the quest to find some way to defeat the invaders.

This would be another good time to go and grab a beer. Or eight.

Yawn.

The things I do for you people!

Wait. Something I'm never quite clear on. When the aliens are sabotaging, or looking for scientists to kill, or generally getting around... are they invisible or are they corpses?

ARE THEY INVISIBLE OR ARE THEY CORPSES?

I guess they're corpses whenever it's convenient for the audience.

The movie wraps up in a nice, little neat bow by telling us the conflict was resolved and everything is totally hunky dory, even though a minute ago we were told the entire planet was either on fire, flooded, or in rubble. But it's OK, because the narrator slams the theme of the movie over our heads, telling us that, hey, the peoples of the world can work together after all. Except they didn't really, because the problem was solved by four people in a bunker in California. Who also, by the way, squabbled and punched each other. So no. The peoples of the world can't work together.

Hey! The UN Building is still standing! That sure is convenient. You'd think it'd be the first thing an alien force bent on world destruction would... sigh.

Good job, invisible invaders. Good fucking job.