MONDOmagazine

By Sean Kelly

Every year at MONDOfilm, we revisit our most disappointing experiences and biggest gripes of the year in the film world. They can be actual films, actors and filmmakers or trends and occurences that got our backs up. Sean Kelly kicks things off. Enjoy.

Lucy looks down upon us.

1. Too Much 3D (for real)

When I wrote my article in February contemplating how studios were jumping on the 3D bandwagon, following the success of Avatar, I had no idea how truly out of hand 3D would get during 2010. It started to seem that every single major release was coming out in 3D (often with the hilarious side note “also available in 2D”). The downside to this was that the studios were cutting corners and converting the majority of these films in post-production, which resulted in greatly diminished 3D effects (and wasted premium movie prices). This resulted in an understandable backlash, highlighted by an anti-3D article written by Roger Ebert. The 3D revolution also gave electronics companies a reason to speed up technological obsolescence by telling people to buy their new fancy 3D-compatable HDTVs and Blu-Ray players so soon after consumers (myself included) started to fully embrace the technology.

On the upside, TRON: Legacy restored my faith in 3D films and the next year promises to see more major films that were actually SHOT in 3D, including Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and Transformers: The Dark of the Moon. Read the rest of this entry »

Neil Patrick Harris steals the show.

By Sean Kelly

It is no secret that the biggest problem with the Oscars has always been its length. It is by far the longest of the award shows and I remember a time, not so long ago, that the ceremony would end at nearly 1am (or 10pm if you are going by the local time of Oscar’s LA location). The Academy has tried many methods in the past to cut down on the show’s length, one of the most infamous being the year they either had all the nominees on stage or presented awards in the crowd.

This year, the Academy had the added trouble of having to show highlights from ten nominated films. As such, there were some stricter time-saving rules. After being compressed last year into a single performance, the best song performances were axed altogether. In addition, the Academy vowed to be more strict on the 45 second acceptance speech limit – though based on what I saw, the major winners seemed exempt.

After watching this year’s show, I have to say that some of those time-saving choices seemed questionable when one takes into consideration what actually turned up in the program. So let me go through some of the Oscars’ filler segments that may or may not have been a waste of time – dependingly mainly on whether or not you enjoyed them.

Read the rest of this entry »

By Sean Kelly, Caesar Martini, and Shane McNeil

Caesar’s Disappointments

1. Halloween 2
I wasn’t expecting excellence going into this movie. I was expecting decent-ness, but what I got was an hour and a half of poorly directed gore scenes in between extreme close ups of talking heads, punctuated by a girl screeching directly into my ear like a Banshee taking a bath in acid.

2. X-Men Origins: Wolverine
This movie had so much potential. Wolverine, arguably one of the coolest and most badass characters ever in comics, played by Hugh Jackman, who somehow manages to be an amazing embodiment of the character despite being Australian and starring in way too many musicals.

How do you cock it up? Read the rest of this entry »

Inglourious Basterds
Directed by Quentin Tarantino
Universal Pictures, 2009

By Brian Last

Shut your brain off, forget everything you learned in history, and let’s go to war. Quentin Tarantino is back rewriting history with another violent and irreverent film. After taking quite a long time to put this film out, the hype and anticipation grew immensely. I went in with mixed feelings and I left the same way.

This film takes place during World War II while the Nazis occupied France. Our focus is on a small troop of Jewish-American soldiers whose main goal is carrying out a killing spree of any and all Nazis, and taking down good ol’ Adolf of course. They get their chance to take a shot at the SS during a formal film premiere by a popular German director and propaganda peddler. However, more are gunning for them than they think: the theatre’s new owner, a young Jewish girl who hosts the event, has her own personal score to settle. Read the rest of this entry »

1958's Vertigo was never nominated for best picture.

By Shane McNeil

In a move that smacks of more desperation than the now classic “downloading a movie is stealing” campaign, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences has announced that this year’s Oscars will double the number of best picture nominees from five to ten.

Before I launch into the ins and outs of this decision, I just have to admit that I didn’t think Christopher Nolan had this much clout. Read the rest of this entry »

By Sam Linton

Well, it happened. After much speculation about the fate of the book, writer Paul Cornell announced on his blog this week that Captain Britain and MI:13, his project for thirteen issues so far along with penciller Leonard Kirk, was not being solicited for a 16^th issue. That means that after the next two issues hit the shelves, it’s over. Obviously, this is not only disappointing news for Cornell, Kirk, and the rest of the Captain Britain creative team; it’s bad news for everyone, and the comics world is made less special with this book’s passing.

Captain Britain and MI:13 was, and for the next two months, will continue to be without question, the finest of the “big two” monthly comics series I currently read. Better than X-Factor, even. By simple virtue of where it was situated (in Britain, obviously), it avoided all the current Companywide Crossover Massively Multiplayer bullshit every other Marvel title currently seems to find itself suffocating under. Secret Invasion? Captain Britain finished that in four issues, well ahead of its American counterparts and entirely by itself. Dark Reign? Never even heard of it, thank you. This may not seem all that important, but because of this, the book got to grow under its own terms, giving it its own story in and of itself, rather than as a part of whatever batshit bizarre Kudzu plot Marvel is drowning all its other titles in at the moment. And that’s important, dammit. I know that comics are a business, and crossover titles sell, but when I read my comics, I want to feel like I’m reading a story, not a business report. And reading Captain Britain was always an unreserved pleasure.

Because Paul Cornell’s writing on this title was so, so tight. Every character distinct, none seeming flat or dull, not even Captain Britain himself, who has always been a bit of a pompous twit. Established characters like the Black Knight, Blade and Captain Britain mingled with second-stringers like Pete Wisdom, Spitfire and the newly introduced Excalibur, Faiza Hussain. And every one was a delight, coming off the page as real people and, morever, equal partners in the book. It may have been called Captain Britain, but this was the best team book I’d read in a while. But it wasn’t just the characterizations that were tight, it was thematically tight, too. By way of example, observe his last (as of this writing) completed arc, Hell Comes to Birmingham. On my first read, I enjoyed it greatly, as Plokta, a Duke of Hell, takes advantage of a weakening in the fabric of English magic to create a “Dream Corridor” in Birmingham, granting people illusory copies of their fondest desires in exchange for the use of the power of their souls to turn England and, eventually, the world into a giant factory for mindless ones, the Marvel universe’s staple magical foot soldiers. The plot twisted and turned, the characters all had great moments to shine (Blade managing to hurt the incorporeal Duke of Hell by using a paper maché sword made from the pages of holy books, Pete Wisdom’s heart’s desire, etc.) and it resolved in a satisfying way. All in all, a ripping good comics yarn. Then later, the thematics hit me. Birmingham, England, turned into a factory for mindless ones at the cost of its soul? The same Birmingham, England that  served as ground zero for the factories of the industrial revolution that took over England and, eventually, the world? That promised us a shining new future and delivered it with smog-choked skies, colonial oppression and world wars? That’s fun to read and smart. That’s thematic. That’s like… Neil Gaiman/Alan Moore territory, there. At the very least, echoes of Jamie Delano. Maybe not quite there yet, but I was willing to give the book time. Time, alas, that it just doesn’t have.

If the last paragraph didn’t make it quite clear, I do tend to focus on writing over art in my comics, but that is not to take away from Leonard Kirk’s excellent penciling. So much of characterization is carried out in the nonverbal areas; expression, body language, the angles of the scenes. I never had any difficulty knowing what the characters were feeling, because it was always as plain as the noses on their faces. Kirk’s pencils complemented Cornell’s writing so well, it was hard to recognize, intellectually at least, that this comic was a collaborative effort. The look on someone’s face when, say, they find out that their father has been abducted by Dracula (that’s right. Dracula.) is so perfect to the situation, I can’t imagine the scene as drawn any other way. The small fill-in sections by other artists in the more recent issues exemplify this; they’re serviceable enough in their own right, and they’re technically very well drafted, but they’re not right. They’re not Kirk.

At this point, you’re probably all tired of my public lamentation, so I’ll cut myself short without going into, say, how great it was to read a book dealing heavily with magic and the supernatural that actually seemed to understand how magic works, and that it actually does need to be explained, albeit in highly metaphysical terms.  Or how wonderfully it managed to at once be heavily tied into some pretty convoluted continuity but required very little in the way of background info to get into. Suffice it to say, it was a good book. It was fun to read, well written, and visually exciting. It was everything a good superhero book ought to be, and now it’s gone. Like I said, the comics world is less special for its passing.

Goodbye, Captain.

You will be missed.

An open letter to Nintendo regarding their mistreatment of hardcore gamers

Dearest Nintendo and Wii,

I was very much looking forward to spending time with you when Fatal Frame IV comes out. I had it all planned: we would spend hours together in the evening and I would quiver with anticipation and horror as together we would fight scary Ju-on style ghosts. We would point the Wiimote at the screen and take pictures of our ghostly conquests and keep them as memories of our epic quest. It was going to be beautiful. I knew the controls would be shaky, as I literally tremble with fear when playing a Fatal Frame game, but I was more than ready to try my favourite series on the Wii.

I was literally crushed, vehemently angry, but sadly, not surprised when you said you would not be releasing Fatal Frame IV in Europe and North America. You made me, a hardcore gamer, feel alienated yet again and I’ve tried so hard to forgive you, but this is unforgivable. You’ve let every other crappy, half-assed game that gets made be published on you, but never ever something for hardcore gamers like me. I am beginning to finally believe that you really do loathe hardcore gamers.

Admittedly, you (the Wii) have not been my favourite console. Yes, I do enjoy playing with you with my non-gamer family and boyfriend, and doing my morning exercises. Other than that, really, I haven’t found a game for the Wii that’s swept me off my feet like Nintendo games did in the good old days. Don’t you remember the long exhilarating moments we spent together during Eternal Darkness, Chrono Trigger, and Resident Evil 4? Why can’t you make or even publish games like that anymore? I’m tired of being part of the Wii fit group. I want to go back to being a Nintendo gamer, when I was proud to say I solely owned and played Nintendo games.  I have not been able to say that for years.

You no longer even try to satisfy me. You are forcing me into the loving embrace of an Xbox 360 and into the bed of  my Blu-Ray-playing PS3. I am afraid I am going to have to break up with you – and after such a long love affair! We had the NES, SNES, and the Gamecube together. (I know – totally missed the N64. It was because I stupidly thought I should grow up and not play games anymore. I never said I was perfect, Nintendo.) Would couples’ counseling work? Are you willing to listen to me? Are you willing to consider my needs as a hardcore gamer? Can you give me that epic game that I desperately want and deserve? Can you give me a game that I’ll lose sleep over and constantly think about while I’m at work?

Or are you leaving me to hang with all the casual gamers? (Casual as in sex, not Fridays.) I understand that it means that you can be with more people, and we’ve always had an open relationship, but I really need you to make me remember why I fell in love with you in the first place. Dearest Nintendo Wii, I am waiting for the perfect E3 make-up game. Prove that you still love me for who I am, a hardcore gamer.

Sincerely,
Diana Poulsen

Your wonderful upstairs neighbor

Do sweat the small stuff, cuz it’s probably what’s keeping you sane

By Jenny Bundock

There are things in this world that are silent contributors to our well-being. You won’t see a parade for any of these items in the near future, and when their time comes, if you have them, they remain unnoticed, unappreciated, and used as they were intended. Conversely, in their absence, a huge, gaping hole of “I can’t believe this!” opens up… and we collectively realize what we took for granted.

Here is my top 20 list of things you don’t realize you need, until you discover that you don’t have them and wish you did — wishing so badly that it hurts.

1. An answering machinere: That person who keeps calling until you pick up, on Saturday.
2. Wite-out
   re: Your final exam, written in pen, with no space left on that last line, when you suddenly realize the answer you wrote is totally wrong.
3. Change for the parking meter
   re: Downtown, on Queen Street – where a meter maid is born every block and a half…
4. Toilet paper
   re: Every bathroom, anywhere, without it. Read the rest of this entry »

I have opinions you won’t like

By Miles Baker

1. Yes, this is directly related to the Watchmen movie coming out in theatres. It’s also a call back to a line in a review I wrote a while ago that people asked for some clarification on.
2. Yes, I’m serious.
3. Yes, I disturb shit as a hobby.

I am aware that Watchmen is an intelligent comic. It’s a work of graphic literature. It’s as important as people say it is. It’s complex and layered, and scarily still politically relevant to this day. But there are a few things I can’t get over while I’m reading Watchmen.

1. That Alan Moore hates every character he’s writing about.
2. That Sally Jupiter has a kid with the man who tries to rape her and justifies it with something along the lines of “it’s complicated.” I guess she read this.
3. That Alan Moore hates sentiment and humanity.
4. The colouring.

Though I’ve heard it can be argued that the colours in Watchmen are supposed to make you want to throw up. And I could buy that. I want to throw up to a lot of it. Particularly my number two there.

Now, I haven’t read every Alan Moore story out there, but, from what I’ve read, he really likes to rape or attempt to rape his female characters. Sometimes, he likes to borrow characters and rape them too, like in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen or The Killing Joke. Yes, in cases like From Hell that is clearly justified from the source material, but he really likes to visit that plot device. Like, he really likes it. It’s his thing.

I’ve had many arguments with people about Alan Moore’s misogyny that end up with them saying, “Well, yeah, he’s a misogynist but he’s a really good writer.” And I say fuck that.

Fuck that.

It sucks that for a medium that historically has so very many problems with victimized women that this man is one of the few shots it has at legitimacy. I say we demand better than an elitist magician.

That’s the other thing he is. An elitist. Every character in Watchmen is an ineffectual rube, with the exception of the unfeeling Mr. Manhattan and the mass murdering Veitch. The Owl’s sense of nostalgia is mocked with his impotence, while Rorschach is made to look stupid with his overwrought dialogue and ridiculous sense of justice.

At the end of it, I dislike every character in Watchmen and I think Alan Moore hates them all even more. The whole work is a thesis about how failed and flawed we are and how there is absolutely no hope for us.

Fuck that too.

I do get it, why he’s popular. He’s a smart man. He has challenged the medium. He fights for his creative rights. But, right now, Alan Moore is sitting at his computer thinking of new ways he can hate you with literature.

By Shane McNeil

Robert Downey Jr. gets ready for the star-studded event.

Before I submit my final Oscar predictions [dropping this Friday, get ready, readers! -ed.], here is a detailed and, many of you will argue, maniacal treatise on why no one should be shocked when Robert Downey Jr. strolls down the aisle on the 22nd to collect the Best Supporting Actor Oscar.

I know what you’re saying, and I admit that I have no reason to be so staunch in my beliefs on this. Ledger has won just about everything there is to win in the category this year and there’s seemingly no sentiment to suggest that Ledger is suffering as part of the Dark Knight backlash. I’ll own up to not especially loving The Dark Knight, but point to the fact that that has very little influence on the points I make below.

So, now… Why Downey? or, more importantly, why not Heath? Let’s start with the obvious. There’s only ever been one posthumous Oscar.

Peter Finch "mad as hell" in Network.

That went to Peter Finch for leading Network. A film now widely considered one of the 100 greatest ever made. A film that was nominated in most major categories, beloved by the actors and one of timely resonance, taking on the idle stance of a nation that had so much to be angry about. It was a lead performance and, to boot, he perished just two months before the Academy Awards ceremony. He was a respected actor (already having been nominated for Sunday Bloody Sunday) but won a statue based largely on the strength of that timeless performance and beat out some of cinema’s other classic characters in Rocky Balboa (Stallone in Rocky) and Travis Bickle (DeNiro’s Taxi Driver), in addition to his Network co-star William Holden to claim the award.

The Academy has had the opportunity to crown a young martyr before — twice, in fact. James Dean was denied Best Actor trophies for both Giant and East of Eden posthumously, and you have to assume that in Hollywood lore — while he is highly respected — Heath Ledger will never be looked at as a James Dean. Yes, he has more of a name and more respect than some (Massimo Troisi comes to mind) but not nearly the esteem of others (Spencer Tracy).

Are we finally sick of this sick character?

Then there’s the big white elephant in the room. He OD’d. He didn’t die in an accident, he didn’t have cancer, he took a whole whack of pills. This is tragic and I’m not making light of it. It’s claimed many before their time (River Phoenix), but what will that look like in the eyes of voters when he’s up against someone, in Downey, who stared that demon in the face and has now harnessed his supreme talent to come back to the top. If you think Tropic Thunder isn’t Oscar fodder, you’re probably right. However, much like Mickey Rourke, the Academy loves it, loves it, when actors go from the bottom to the top, and between Thunder and Iron Man, that’s where Downey now sits.

But wait, this is about the best performance, not who the Academy likes best, isn’t it? It’s not. Just ask Eddie Murphy. Your persona is as important as, if not moreso than, what you put on screen, and Downey’s triumphant turnaround and likeable personality will seem like a far greater reward to Hollywood and the actors that vote on this award than the still photo of Ledger and the kind thanks of his family more than a year after his unfortunate death.

Another point I want to make is the nature of the Supporting Actor category. Sometimes, it’s locked from the day the nominations are announced. Javier Bardem, Benicio Del Toro, and Chris Cooper recently took the award from wire to wire without much, if any, competition. However, it’s also the place that upsets happen, and respected talents get their due.

So fresh and so clean, clean.

Tim Robbins, Morgan Freeman, and Robin Williams all did excellent work to earn their Oscars, but their previous work and nominations had to have factored in. Upsets, while a factor in every Oscar category, seem rampant in Supporting Actor. Jim Broadbent, Michael Caine, and James Coburn were all unexpected, but came down in the same category.

Final point — I swear. Supporting is where comedy and comedians can shine. Apart from staggering comedic feats, the lead category is for drama and even a nomination is often a lot to ask for a comedian. Supporting, however, is a place for the funny guys to get their due. Alan Arkin, Cuba Gooding Jr. — even reaching all the way back to Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda, Supporting is where great comedy can be rewarded. And make no mistake — “the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude” is just that: great comedy.

There you have it. That’s my reasoning. I’m not sure enough of myself to put $100 down on it, but I’d certainly risk being wrong in an Oscar pool over it. Take it as you will. However, should the (virtually) unthinkable happen, consider yourself warned.

Slumdog Millionaire
Directed by Danny Boyle and Loveleen Tandan
Celador Films, 2008

By David Hollands

When a film garners as much critical praise as Slumdog Millionaire has, one assumes watching the movie will be like witnessing the second coming of Christ. When I heard the praise growing, I didn’t join in the chorus; Slumdog Millionaire is directed by Danny Boyle, one of the most overrated filmmakers of all time.

I didn't say Slumdog was bigger than Jesus, or better than Jesus...

The story? Jamal Malik, a young man born and raised in the slums of Mumbai, becomes a contestant on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? in the hopes that the love of his life, Latika, will be watching him. Jamal manages to answer every question correctly, prompting security to suspect that he’s cheating. In police custody, Jamal reveals how he knew the answers: each answer relates to specific moments in his life, which — you guessed it — the audience gets to watch in flashback.

Therein lies a major problem: Slumdog Millionaire is a structural mess. Every time Jamal answers a question, the audience is whisked back to the corresponding life event. Only a few of the flashbacks are devoted to moving the story forward. Most serve the function of explaining in utterly contrived fashion how Jamal knew the answers. Jamal and his brother develop an animosity toward each other, and Jamal meets Latika, which is certainly important story-wise. For a good hour or so, however, the characters don’t develop! In fact, Jamal NEVER develops. His arc is incredibly limited, and a drag to experience. Jamal’s brother Salim should have been the protagonist; his arc of corruption and eventual redemption is the more interesting story.

Another problem: Slumdog Millionaire has a disastrous moral cop-out as its conclusion. (Those bothered by spoilers should steer clear.) To absolutely no one’s surprise, Jamal is one question away from the grand prize. Preceding this moment, money and greed are treated in the film as the roots of all evil. Jamal is not interested in money, only in being with Latika. Fine… but then why is the film’s climax constructed around whether or not Jamal will get the money? Is money suddenly not evil because the “good” characters have it now? If Slumdog Millionaire had any balls whatsoever, Jamal would not have won. His love for Latika should have been enough. The movie’s message is mixed, to say the least.

How about the theme? Here it is: destiny. That’s. It. Seriously! The movie had me sitting through all sorts of annoying visual and aural razzamatazz for two hours, and all it had to say is that our lives are controlled by destiny? Bullshit. Boring and uninteresting bullshit, no less.

As for Mr. Boyle’s much-lauded direction, it seems he is perfectly content with shaking and tilting his camera all over the place, no matter what the scene. A single shot hardly ever lasts on the screen for more than two seconds. That’s. Annoying. Mr. Artiste Boyle also seems to think his audience is composed of complete morons. During the last act, there were flashbacks to scenes and moments that had played not five minutes earlier! At one point, our genius director cuts to a shot of Latika when Jamal speaks of her, just in case we dullards had forgotten who she was.

All you need is love. But 20 million rupees never hurt anyone.

More of the bad: a loud, constantly blaring soundtrack that almost made me go deaf; the crappiest cinematography in ages (digitally manipulated straight to hell — seriously, the movie looks like neon vomit); and let’s not forget the egregious dance number that closes the film. What is that even doing in a movie that features child mutilation, child prostitution, murder, and torture? It frightens me that the violence, while pretty visceral and disturbing in some moments, ultimately becomes pretty lightweight and unimportant by the film’s conclusion. That lacks maturity. I think it’s disgusting to feature such violence in a film that’s ultimately a dopey and lighthearted romance.

Some good stuff: an amazing musical score, great performances, and the knowledge that it will all be over at some point.

In a wonderful year for cinema that saw so many amazing, challenging films, the fact that this one seems to be the biggest critical darling is disturbing on a level even I cannot imagine. If this boring, predictable, clichéd, and truly dumb movie wins Best Picture, cinema will be in great danger of losing its soul.

Note the baggy, character-defining clothes.

Dear Brian,

Let me just first say that I’m aware that many people will say that I am making a mountain out of a molehill, but this is something that’s important to me. As you are no doubt aware, female characters in comics published by Marvel and DC get a rough time of it. The status quo for many female characters at Marvel is “constantly victimized while wearing very little.”

This was a big reason why I loved your series Alias. Finally there was a female character in the Marvel universe that, while damaged, was smart about it and — most of all — was wearing sensible clothing.

She was aware of her body image, and she was drawn with a realistic body type. Her body could actually exist in the real world. It was scientifically possible. Michael Gaydos did a great job in rendering her as someone who with facial ticks, patterns, and the rest — like a real person.

Then when Alias became The Pulse, the artists you picked (or Marvel did, either way) continued what was established in Alias. Brent Anderson and Michael Lark did a fine job drawing Jessica. (Particularly Lark, who did a great match to Jessica’s distinctive face).

Good thing that Luke Cage has unbreakable skin, because those look like they could cut glass.

However, as her importance in the Marvel Universe has grown and more and more artists have tackled her, she’s lost this specialness. Your collaborators on New Avengers have consistently drawn her with missile tits and a tiny, tiny waist. Francis Yu is the worst offender. I mean, look at that shit to the left. You want your daughter to read stuff where women are drawn so inaccurately?

Now that Jessica is being drawn as any random woman in the Marvel Universe and Gert from Runaways is dead, the only woman in the Marvel Universe that isn’t drawn as a total hottie is Aunt May. And that just doesn’t seem right to me.

I think you have a responsibility as her creator, and a human being, to see that she’s drawn in a more realistic fashion. I mean, the same woman who once thought via captions, while reading a women’s magazine, “‘How to keep your man’s eyes from wandering…’ Damn! Fuck you!!! ‘Dressing for success — more cleavage and leg.’ Fuckers. Fucking dammit — no wonder I feel like shit about myself all the time” would not be flying around wearing belly shirts while searching for her missing daughter. She’d have a shirt that at least covered her fucking belly button for that.

Please, this is a seriously important issue if you’re ever going to grow your audience. More and more women are reading comics, so why not try to get some of those readers on your books by ensuring your characters don’t have insulting body types?

It’s the right thing to do, man.

Yours in fandom,

Miles Baker