Eclipse (2010)

What in the holy hell does Jacob have to do to make Bella forget about that pasty bastard, Edward?  He’s completely jacked, he rarely wears a shirt (which the jealous ancient vampire humourously notes), he can keep her very warm in a tent during blisteringly cold nights outside, he rides a motorcycle and he can run around while effortlessly carrying her simultaneously.  Honestly, what more can he do?  Oh right.  He’s kind of a douche.  My bad.

Unfortunately, so is her ancient vampire boyfriend, or at least he was in the first two films of this franchise.  But in Eclipse, the third but sadly, far from final chapter in this ongoing, underwhelming franchise, he’s so devoted to the now thankfully less gloomy teenager he rarely leaves her side.  (I preferred it when he took a hikeski.)

This endlessly aggravates Bella’s divorced dad and town sheriff, Charlie (the always good Billy Burke in a thankless role), who would prefer it if she comforted Jacob.  But like New Moon, the previous film, the young shirtless werewolf can’t resist playing the hot/cold routine perfected by Edward in Twilight.  She calls, he doesn’t call back.  He doesn’t visit her, she doesn’t visit him.

After Charlie frees her from her punishment (she got grounded because of what happened in the last movie), she decides to make the first move.  But that crappy red truck won’t start and Edward makes an unexpected appearance on the passenger side, freaking her out.  Let’s call this the Vampire Cock Block.  Seeing Jacob will have to wait.

Meanwhile, an army of “newborn” vampires (recently bitten humans) are being assembled and causing the usual array of mayhem in Washington State, much to the befuddlement of the always confused local police force.  (Have they never seen Dracula?) 

The Cullen Family, particularly Alice the visionary, have no idea at first who’s organizing the coming invasion.  But eventually, we learn it’s Victoria (now played by the absolutely beautiful Bryce Dallas Howard who I didn’t really hate all that much) who hopes to avenge the death of her undead lover.

Eventually, Bella and Jacob get reacquainted but he says something dumb that turns her off.  Plus, he forces her to kiss him.  (Smooth, dude.)  At a party, he makes it up to her by giving her a werewolf trinket.  The overprotective Edward offers her one of his own, shortly thereafter.

Although Jacob correctly observes that she’s into him, she spends most of the movie living in denial.  After three of these features, it remains hard to believe that Edward would have that strong of a hold on her.  He’s not even handsome, for God’s sake.  Or tanned. 

During the tent sequence late in the film, Jacob offers the funniest moment in the movie by stating an obvious fact.  Eventually, because of his angry reaction about her upcoming summer nuptials (oh Edward, you sneaky dick), Bella finally confesses her true feelings.  But no matter what, Jacob is still the runner-up.  Maybe he should run around bottomless, too.

Because newborn vampires are much more powerful than The Cullens, the latter form an uneasy alliance with Jacob and his family of werewolves hoping to stop the coming onslaught.  This doesn’t exactly sit well with Edward and Jacob who clash time and time again over winning the permanent affection of Bella who, despite her beauty and thankfully less worldweary Debby Downer personality, still doesn’t strike me as worth all this much trouble.  For Bella’s part, she’s worried about their safety and is tired of being hidden away like a fragile treasure unable to contribute to the cause.  All the while, representatives from The Volturi (led by an unconvincing Dakota Fanning) pop up on the scene.  After quietly observing Victoria’s growing army, they meet with The Cullen clan and lay down the law.

As the movie builds to its best scene in the third act, we get some much needed background on two of the Cullens.  Jasper, who has experience dealing with newborns, was a soldier in The Civil War who got turned by a Spanish vampire he fell for.  But she only used him to train and later discard new recruits.  He’s much happier with his current bloodsucking gal.

Then, there’s the awful story of Rosalie.  A couple of centuries ago, she fell for a philandering alcoholic rapist who, along with his drunken friends, left her for dead after being gangraped one fateful night.  (Before we see him throw her on the ground, can you believe she is still willing to meet him the next day if he shows up sober?  And this is after he already starts getting inappropriate!)   She got turned shortly after her horrible ordeal and yet, absurdly thinks this was the worst thing that could happen to her.  The transformation, not the assault.

Despite knocking off all those sickening mysogynists (Her moustachioed beau is the last one she kills.  What is this, Sudden Impact?), she pines to be human again and to have a regular married life filled with kids and grandkids.  (Vampire love doesn’t compare to human love, apparently.) But if she hadn’t gotten bitten, she would’ve died.  (Even if she had somehow survived, she likely would’ve suffered from years and years of unresolved trauma.)  Does she not realize that the minute she laid eyes on that asshole back in the day, that dream died a sorry death?  Don’t get me started.

At the end of New Moon, Edward suddenly proposed marriage to Bella, who we learn in Eclipse still has her hymen.  For much of this third film she continually refuses to accept until Mr. Old School does a proper speech and finally gets his yes.  As for consummating this relationship, they haven’t set a date.  Edward’s a bit of a tease, you see.

And that finally leads to the amazing battle sequence in the third act.  Beautifully choreographed and edited, it’s as close to perfect as you can get.  It is the only time the film truthfully has some genuine energy and excitement.  Never have I been so happy to see so many decapitations.

Believe it or not, we’re only halfway through this damn franchise and I don’t know how much more I can take.  With so little heat between Kristen Stewart and her two paramours, it’s tedious watching their unconvincing scenes together.  And with little else besides the stunning visuals (the British Columbia scenery, that awesomely brief female werewolf transformation, the red eyes of the vampires) and occasional action sequence to hook me, it’s getting harder to stay focused on this love triangle.  Their lack of sizzle remains the fatal flaw of this series.

Dennis Earl
Hamiton, Ontario, Canada
Thursday, April 21, 2011
3:47 p.m.

Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo

You know you’re watching a bad comedy when the funniest bit is an extended fart sequence.  Such is the sad, sickening display that is Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo, the horrifying 2005 sequel to the equally horrifying Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo, a surprise hit in 1999.

If you recall from that earlier monstrosity, Rob Schneider plays a down on his luck loser recruited by a colourful pimp (Eddie Griffin) to service women who couldn’t otherwise get a date without paying for it. 

In the sequel, we learn that Schneider married one of his customers, the woman with the prosthetic leg.  Unfortunately, she got eaten by a shark and he’s been mourning the loss ever since.  How does he continue to show his loyalty to her?  By weirdly carting around that same prosthetic leg like a lovestruck puppy, a running gag that goes nowhere fast.  It’s not the only one, unfortunately.

After a tasteless incident involving dolphins, some kind of anti-beaching device and blind senior citizens (don’t ask), Schneider gets a well-timed phone call from Griffin, his former pimp.  While learning on the news that he’s a wanted man (he created the anti-beaching technology), the one-time gigolo takes up Griffin’s offer to come visit him in Amsterdam and escape his domestic troubles.

While there, the two losers find themselves in the middle of another serious situation.  Male prostitutes are being offed one by one by a mysterious blonde who whistles, wears a leopard skin coat and possesses a rare type of American lipstick.  On the case is, believe it or not, Jeroen Krabbe (who was so much better in The Fugitive), a law enforcement big shot not at all enamoured with his free spirited city, especially that Canadian tourist who appears not to be toilet trained.

Because of a series of inane circumstances, Griffin is wrongly suspected of being the killer.  And so begins a rather offensive running gag where the media believes him to be gay which the homophobic pimp thinks is bad for business.  (His use of the word “faggot” later on made me cringe.)  In fact, he’s more outraged by that than the false murder rap.  (He believes the latter could lead to a lucrative rap career.  He would be wrong.)

Meanwhile, with the dimwitted Schneider by his side, the two conduct their own side investigation.  After acquiring a list of clients that the dead gigolos had been looking after, they set about visiting them one by one. 

There’s the giant lady with a peculiar baby fetish (she makes Schneider dress in a diaper and act accordingly), the woman with a hole in her neck (how does she digest food and liquid exactly?), a humpback, a hairy stinkbomb, another gal with oversized ears and, most disgustingly, that unfortunate soul with a penis for a nose.  If only the filmmakers had not gone further with that last idea.

All the while, despite the expected swerves, it’s fairly obvious who the disgruntled killer is.  When you find out why this particular person has such rage against male prostitutes, you wish you didn’t.

When it was released six years ago, European Gigolo got horrendous reviews.  (Richard Roeper and Roger Ebert had it high on their 2005 Worst lists.)  Now that I’ve finally screened it, let me join in that cacophonous chorus.  The movie is essentially one super-extended dick joke with far too many awkward puns (“va-guy-na”, for one ), excessive use of the word “man-whore” (a leftover theme from the original) and just enough potty humour to maintain its asinine juvenile spirit.

Which brings me back to the fart sequence.  While Griffin and Schneider are secretly checking out a shrine at a private club for male hustlers (the name of the Russian guy is funny), unexpected company arrives.  Somehow managing in an instant to hide up in the ceiling undetected like the spawn of Spider-Man, Griffin softly reveals to Schneider that their cover is about to be blown.  It’s so cheap and so stupid and yet so hilarious, a rare but welcome moment of release.

Even the romance Schneider has brewing with Krabbe’s beautiful niece is terrible.  She suffers from a form of OCD I’m not sure exists.  Slapping yourself three times when someone sneezes?  Repeatedly wiping your nose with your finger when an accordion player begins his song?  With the exception of her fear of touching door knobs, all her other compulsions smack of awful slapstick.  Speaking of the door knob thing, how come she doesn’t freak out when she finally has to touch one?  Some irrational fear that is.

This pitiful turd is such a disaster not even cameos by Norm MacDonald (as an Irish hustler) and SNL’s Fred Armisen (as a sleazy, anti-American European) can provide even the slightest bit of energy to this cinematic deadweight, although the end title gag about MacDonald wanting another sitcom is funny.

When you think about it, the central premise of this franchise is irrevocably flawed.  The vast majority of women in the world simply don’t pay for sex.  They don’t have to, even the ones who are far from physically ideal.  Consider the story of  the sole male prostitute in Nevada.  Business was so bad he had to quit.  The creators of the Deuce Bigalow franchise should follow suit.

Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
9:43 p.m.

A Nightmare On Elm Street (2010)

Of all the famous horror films released in the 1980s, only one really needed to be remade.  That would be A Nightmare On Elm Street, Wes Craven’s overrated tale of a mysterious boogeyman haunting the imaginations of powerless teens while they sleep.  The film took on a fabulous concept (fatal nightmares) and buggered it up.  The final result just wasn’t scary.  Surely, someone else could do a better job with this cool idea.

Now, nearly 30 years later, we get this 21st Century update and Good Lord, what a disappointment.  Let’s start with the villain, Freddy Krueger.  Replacing Robert Englund is Oscar nominee Jackie Earle Haley who, like his predecessor, is barely in the movie until the final act. 

The difference between the two performances is quite striking.  Englund played the character like a Shakespearean villain doing vaudeville.  Haley’s interpretation is decidedly more serious (although there are occasional albeit lame attempts at one-liners) and sadly, quite forgettable.  Were it not for the fact that he’s wearing the exact same outfit as Englund, he is completely indistinguishable from any other generic bad guy you could think of.  And his grim, drone of a voice doesn’t help, either.

And what about that awful make-up?  He looks like a cross between Ron Perlman’s character from Beauty And The Beast and a Lost Boy.  Not scary or original at all.

As for the story, well it’s just as mediocre.  Once again, certain teenagers on a certain street are experiencing night terrors that are unexplained.  They’re being haunted by a burned guy in a fedora and striped sweater who comes at them with little finger knives on a glove. 

It’s just as well.  They’re not particularly well written or portrayed nor do they have much of anything to say.  So when they die in the usual gruesome manner, it’s hard to feel anything but indifference to their plight.

The difference between the original and this inferior remake involves the backstory of Krueger.  In this one, he’s a kindly gardener at a preschool who may or may not have done naughty things with the students in his “secret cave”.  (The film absurdly toys with the old Hitchcockian idea of an innocent man wrongly accused before coming to its senses.) 

Like the 1984 version, this remake can’t quite say what he really is:  an unrepentant pedophile.  Instead, it merely suggests this while simultaneously turning him into a vengeful murderer.  Why all the shyness, I wonder?  Taste issues?

I’ll say this for the change.  It makes sense.  (I never quite bought the logic of Craven’s original.  Krueger prefers preying on young kids, doesn’t he?)  But it’s not well executed at all.  The big reveals leave you feeling quite empty.  There’s very little to shock you here and a remarkable lack of conviction.

In fact, the movie relies a bit too much at times on recycling from its source material which easily explains the lack of surprise.  The famous scene of Heather Langenkamp relaxing in the tub while Freddy’s glove pops out of the water is shamelessly replayed here not to mention the moment when a girl screams in the classroom while in the midst of a terrible nightmare.  We get the memorable Freddy theme song again (“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…”) and all those endless dark, noisy boiler room scenes.  Overall, the nightmare sequences, like the film in general, are extremely dull.

Apart from a few effective special effects (classmates turning to rubble, all that sludgy blood slowing down our heroine), it’s hard to imagine anyone who’s seen a single horror film falling for these tired, cliched tricks.  The constant false alarms and the relentless jumping-in-the-frame-after-several-seconds-of-dead-silence technique is beyond routine at this point.

Although the original Elm Street feature was ultimately unsuccessful artistically, at least it had some good qualities particularly the very funny big screen debut of Johnny Depp who showed immediate star potential.  And while I felt Englund’s Krueger was more campy than scary, at least you remembered him.

Can anyone say the same about Haley and this remake?

Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
2:36 p.m.

From The Published Archives: The Chicago Tribune’s new citizen journalism website

For nine months I was a guest contributor on Fading To Black, a blog dedicated to following the sad decline of the news business.  And since my site, The Writings Of Dennis Earl, relocated from the now-defunct Windows Live Spaces to WordPress.com, I’ve been highlighting some of the work I did there.  (At the old place, I had two lists that only linked to every item I wrote for FTB.)

Here’s one more previously seen piece from that period.  Originally published on April 19, 2007, “The Chicago Tribune’s new citizen journalism website” is all about TribLocal.com.  The idea was to get ordinary citizens to cover news and happenings in their own area.  As you’ll read, I wasn’t sold on it. 

At the time, the site initially planned on covering nine different suburbs with the hope of expanding further in the near future.  Today, TribLocal represents an astounding 84 areas of Illinois. 

Apart from an award issued last year for its revamped look, TribLocal hasn’t been the subject of a lot of national coverage, if a recent Bing search is any indication.  (Note how that above link is nothing more than a regurgitated press release from The Tribune.)  As for the site itself, unless you live in any of these areas, it’s doubtful you’ll find much of the content interesting.

So, despite all my worrying about TribLocal citizen journalists not knowing the basic tenets of journalism, the site has turned out not to be a “disaster in the making”, as I foolishly asserted four years ago, but rather a mundane outlet for local community events, inconsequential to everyone outside Illinois.  That being said, it would be nice if these amateur contributors were paid for their efforts.  (The Huffington Post treats its bloggers the same way.)

One last note about links in the original piece.  The TribLocal FAQ link has been replaced with a current one and the original Chicago Tribune story, which inspired my FTB item, has been junked.  It’s not online anymore and The Internet Archive Wayback Machine couldn’t find a cache copy.

The Chicago Tribune’s new citizen journalism website

Gene Siskel’s old employer is jumping on the citizen journalism bandwagon. The Chicago Tribune has launched a new site called TribLocal which allows residents in nine different surburban areas of the city to contribute stories, photographs, event announcements and anything else that fits the “family-friendly” web format.

 

Four professional Trib journalists have been assigned the thankless task of generating their own content as well as deciding which material generated by the public deserves the most prominence on the site. Also, the paper is planning to take the best contributions and publish them once a week in a tabloid-style insert that will be stuffed inside the broadsheet.

 

This experiment, such as it is, looks like a disaster in the making. According to TribLocal’s FAQ, most of the content will be created and submitted by the public who are also expected to monitor most of the material. Essentially, it’s a localized Wikipedia site with a touch of Craigslist. You have to register for free in order to participate.

Without the same training that professional journalists receive in certified colleges and universities, these “citizen journalists” will be walking into a minefield of ethical dilemmas. Are they aware of terms like “on the record”, “off the record” and “background”? Do they know the difference between offering a commentary and presenting a straight news item? Do they know that three makes a trend? Are they familiar with “sources”? Will there be any serious, groundbreaking journalism on this site or will the showcased stories collectively bore readers?

It appears The Trib is outsourcing the announcements and classified sections of their newspaper to a public-at-large they don’t have to pay. It’s a move that smacks of desperation.

The move comes at a time when the financial outlook for newspapers has never been darker. With circulation and ad revenue flowing to the Internet, papers are scrambling.

The popularity of sites like MySpace.com has convinced many publishers there is value in letting readers create “content.” And local papers are trying to re-engage readers with “hyperlocal” coverage, the minutiae of local community life that the rest of the media ignore.

“This started with the question of how can we make the paper more relevant to readers who continue to live further and further away from the center city,” Biedron said.

Nine urbanized areas of the city, in the west and south, are the initial target areas of this initiative. As the site progresses, The Trib plans to expand beyond those regions.

Whether this ill-conceived project will succeed or crash and burn is anybody’s guess.

Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Friday, April 15, 2011
11:40 p.m.

Elaine Loring’s Public Battle With Breast Cancer

It was March 28th when I got the news.  My friend of four years is battling breast cancer.  She got the official diagnosis almost three weeks earlier, a dreaded revelation if ever there was one.  It was a hard message to read.

It was April 23rd, 2007, when I first heard from her.  She sent me a very nice email complimenting my website.  She also had a request.  Did I know Bill Brioux’s new email address?  The one she had was defunct.  (She found my site through a Google search and The Toronto Sun Family Blog which had kindly noted some of my pieces.)

Little did I know at the time, they’re old friends.  I passed her request on to The Canadian Press TV Critic and he gave her what she was looking for.  I wrote her a reply thanking her and much to my surprise, she wrote me back.  We’ve been exchanging messages here and there ever since.  Thoroughness is a common trait we share.

All this time I’ve learned what many others have known for a long time:   Elaine Loring is one cool lady.  Lovely, smart, funny, sweet, gracious, compassionate and endlessly energetic.  To have her in your corner means you matter. 

Now it’s time to return the favour.  Shellshocked by her surprising diagnosis, Elaine had been going back and forth on the idea of putting together a blog that would publicly document her battle with her disease, warts and all.  She asked friends and family what they thought.  Most, like myself, felt it was a great idea. 

When she turned to old pal Bruce Kirschbaum for advice, however, he convinced her once and for all to go for it.   The Emmy-winning writer noted that while her struggle with cancer would be the initial focus, her site “could be a platform to go into very wide-ranging terrain”.  Personally, I can’t get enough of her stories about being a Global TV reporter and would love to read more of that stuff.  Anything involving her late colleague Bob MacAdorey would be gold, too.  (Check out this 1996 interview she conducted with her longtime celebrity crush, Bobby Sherman, here.)

After only privately informing family and a few friends of her condition, Elaine finally went public on her Facebook page yesterday.  Lain’s Log, inspired by James T. Kirk’s Captain’s Log (she’s a longtime Shatner fan but curiously isn’t a Trekker), covers the entire history thus far of her cancer from that fateful February morning when she felt a lump in her right breast to all the testing for it through the shocking diagnosis and the overwhelming emotions of fear, anger and sadness resulting from this life-changing experience.

Others going through the same medical crisis will find much to relate to here like the torturous waiting of results, the second guessing of lifestyle choices possibly contributing to her condition, the sense of uncertainty and anguish as well as the ground swell of support from friends and family.  And even for those of us who don’t know what it’s like to feel so mortal in situations like this, the journal-style entries give you a strong sense of being in the room with Elaine as she deals with doctors and nurses and receptionists, all the while trying to make sense of an unfair dilemma.

Although this is very personal stuff, Elaine is very much in reportorial mode here as she describes in vivid detail the process of combating this horrible disease.  Her story on her MRI is particularly fascinating.

To fully appreciate Lain’s Log, you need go right to the beginning.  Click on the February 2011 archives, scroll down and work your way up.  The background on her cancer journey is equally important to the journey itself.

And if that’s not enough to keep you interested, the former Sunshine Girl has posted some awesome bikini shots, as well.  “Hey now!” as Hank Kingsley would say.

With the results of her MRI pending, all of her supporters will be eager to know what’s next for her recovery.  Based on what she’s written so far, she’s in great hands and because detection came early, her prospects for remission are hopefully very strong. 

In the meantime, check out Lain’s Log and offer her some support. 

Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
3:27 a.m.

From The Published Archives: Is “niche journalism” the future of news?

It’s happening again.  I’m blocking big time.  There’s no worse fate for a writer than to not produce, especially when you’re hungry for a bigger audience and possible full-time revenue.  Because of this annoyingly recurring dilemma, I thought it would help to dip into my personal archives again and post an older piece previously seen elsewhere.

Regular readers of this space will remember that I used to blog for Fading To Black, a site devoted to chronicling the sad decline of the newspaper business.  Rather than wait another five days to post this, I’m showcasing this particular piece now.

“Is ‘niche journalism’ the future of news?” was originally published on FTB on April 14, 2007 and was one of my first postings on the site.  It was inspired by an article I read on The Capital Times website, a longtime daily out of Madison, Wisconsin which has since undergone some interesting changes.  Originally a broadsheet that published seven days a week, it transformed itself into a mostly website-only operation supplemented by a twice-a-week freebie tabloid (Wednesdays and Thursdays) a little over a year after my piece surfaced.  Declining circulation numbers inspired this drastic, risky change.

Anyway, the article in question featured comments about the future of the news media by Jim VandeHei, a former Washington Post reporter who had helped co-found Politico.com in 2007.  He predicted that the old-school newspaper model, where coverage was given to various areas of public interest, was done and that in the future, news organizations would build a business around just one subject be it politics, entertainment, sports or whatever.  He also said the continuing trend of closing down foreign news bureaus would go on which, considering the state of the Middle East and the ongoing tragedy in Japan this year, really looks like a stupid move on the part of clueless media corporations.  CNN can’t do it all, people.

At any event, my piece examines this interesting concept of single-minded journalism and openly questions whether it’s actually sustainable or not in the longterm.  Four years later, have there been any “niche journalism” success stories? 

One last thing.  I’ve had to replace the original link to The Capital Times article with a cached version.  (Thank you, Internet Archive Wayback Machine.)  All other links in the piece are unaffected.

Is “niche journalism” the future of news?

“The days of big newspapers that cover everything are over.”

That’s what former Washington Post reporter Jim VandeHei told Katie Dean of The Capital Times in a story that appeared yesterday in the Madison, Wisconsin daily. VandeHei is currently working for The Politico, the 3-month-old political website that attracted “2 million unique visitors” in March alone. (The print version is a freebie that circulates 25,000 copies mostly in the Washington, D.C. area.) The whole venture was launched by Allbritton Communications on January 23rd, the same day President Bush delivered his State Of The Union address.

VandeHei argues that because consumers are flocking more and more to the Internet to follow specific news stories that interest them the most, following the old newspaper model of covering a variety of subjects is outdated.

VandeHei said Thursday that the Web creates a “huge opportunity for niche journalism,” be it in sports, science, finance or politics.
 
“I believe that that’s very much the future,” he said.
 
The trend of major print publications closing foreign bureaus will continue, VandeHei said, adding that while it is a loss for readers, it makes business sense because such bureaus are expensive to run and the news they generate is available from other sources.

But as Dean reports, The Politico makes 90 per cent of its revenue through its print version which is substantially different from its online counterpart. (The print version is tailor-made for beltway polticians. The website is for political junkies.) Also, it has come under fire from critics who have argued that it doesn’t always get its facts right. As Eric Boehlert pointed out in his March 27th column for the Media Matters For America website, “…The Politico does not have a bias problem. The Politico has a reporting problem.”

Still, the idea is interesting and not without merit. In the world of cable television, we’ve seen channels devoted exclusively to music, sports, movies and news. There have been many success stories. (MTV, CNN, Fox News Channel, ESPN, HBO.) Why not try it with the newspaper business? With the print media in tremendous financial decline, does “niche journalism” have the potential to turn things around?

Any gamblers out there willing to take a chance on it?

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Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Saturday, April 9, 2011
5:06 p.m.