And now for something completely unrelated to Indiana Jones (no doubt my Three Loyal Readers are rejoicing at those words), a meme stolen from Javi. It’s one of those musical memes that seemed to be so popular a few years ago, when iTunes and iPods were the hot new deal. Up until fairly recently, I’ve been unable to participate in these memes as I remained stubbornly iTunes-less, but I’ve finally been assimilated into the intangible music paradigm. Well, I’ve got iTunes on my home and work machines, anyhow; I still don’t have much motivation to shell out my hard-earned cubits for an iPod. But then I always have been a late adopter.
Anyhow, here’s the meme. It’s probably worth keeping in mind that these results come from the version of iTunes I have on my work computer, so it’s based on the very specific (and generally pretty mellow) handful of CDs I’ve bothered to bring into the office with me. Or maybe that doesn’t matter. I don’t know… either way, enjoy the useless trivia…
As promised, the trailer for Crystal Skull is now online. You can see it at the official website, or I imagine it’ll be all over the Interwebs by afternoon (if it’s not already).
I’ve watched it three times already and, as trailers go, it’s a good one. Not surprisingly, it plays very heavily on audience nostalgia, easing us into the proper mindset with scenes from Raiders, Temple of Doom, and Last Crusade before a classic “intro” shot involving the hat, the music, and a familiar silhouette. What follows is non-stop action with a few humorous one-liners and very little clue for the non-obsessed as to what’s going on. The trailer does confirm that there is a big set-piece inside The Warehouse, the “TOP SECRET DO NOT OPEN!” crate does not contain the Ark (if you freeze-frame at the right moment, you can see that it’s filled with files), and there is, as much as I hate to say it, a Roswell connection.
That said, there is no sign (in this trailer at least) of Greys or flying saucers, and there is plenty of whip-cracking, truck-smashing, bone-crunching punches, ancient jungle temples, and naked tribesmen. It feels, in short, very much like one of the classic Indiana Jones flicks. And there are even a couple of gags relating to Indy’s advancing age, so they’re not trying to pretend the years haven’t taken their toll on him. (It’s not an age joke, but I really like the exchange right at the end of the trailer between Indy and Indy, Jr.: “You a teacher?” “Part-time…” There are echoes there of exchanges between Indy and his dad…)
Maybe it’s just a Pavlovian reaction, but when I saw the fedora lying in the dirt and heard the “Raiders March” begin, I broke into a big grin. I’m still a bit wary — I keep thinking of how awesome a trailer for a certain other revisit to my childhood was compared to the finished product — but I’m definitely excited for Memorial Day weekend now…
This image has been floating around the ‘webs for a couple of weeks now, so it’s not a scoop for Simple Tricks or anything like that. I just happen to like the picture. It amuses me. The look on Indy Jr.’s face (I remain convinced Shia’s character is going to turn out to be Indy and Marion’s love child, until I see otherwise in the finished movie!) is so alarmed, so clearly saying, “Holy crap, what’re you going to do with that?!”, whereas Marion’s expression is more, “Oh, God, I know exactly what he’s going to do with that, and isn’t it just like him?” I suspect this whole scene — whatever may be actually going on, plot-wise — is designed as a nod back to one of the most memorable moments of Raiders of the Lost Ark, when Sallah asks Indy what’re they going to do next, and Indy replies, “I don’t know, I’m making this up as I go.” It’s the possibility of that sort of thing — fun little gifts to the fans who’ve been quoting lines and scenes from Raiders and the others for 27 years(!), and a warm reunion with characters we grew up loving — that’s been driving much of my interest in this film.
However, other recent insights into The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull have revived my reservations about the project, and whether it’s ultimately going to be an embarrassingly lame epilogue for one of my favorite movie series
Here’s another item to put on the list of Everyday Stuff We Grew Up With That’s Now Consigned to the Dustbins of History: Polaroid photography.
I just read that the Polaroid company plans to stop making its “instant film” as soon as there’s enough stockpiled to carry it through the rest of this year. (The company already stopped making Polaroid cameras a while back.) There is some talk of licensing the technology to other manufacturers, in order to keep die-hard niche enthusiasts supplied, but for all intents and purposes, the photo technique preferred by grandmas everywhere in the 1970s and ’80s is dead.
The fraternity of actors who are forever identified with a particular, memorable line is a small one, and I often wonder how the members of that exclusive club feel about being so strongly associated with a single sentence uttered in the course of a single job. Did Bogie ever get tired of people shouting, “here’s lookin’ at you, kid!” from across the street? Did Brando cringe whenever some two-bit impressionist would “make somebody an offer they can’t refuse?” And has even The Governator gotten tired of “I’ll be back?” (Probably not, in the latter case.)
This question is on my mind because I’m wondering what Roy Scheider — who died yesterday at the age of 75 after a long struggle with cancer — would say about the fact that every obituary I’ve read today has referenced his famous dead-pan quip from Jaws: “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”
I hope he’d be amused by it, and maybe even proud. Jaws still holds up today, 33 years after its release, as a terrific adventure film — it’s not a horror movie, despite what most people think — due in no small part to Scheider’s contribution. His character, Chief Brody, is the Everyman, the non-expert, the guy the audience identifies with, because he doesn’t know anything and he’s terrified, just like we would be in the same situation. It makes the movie much more believable than it would be if Brody was some kind of uber-competent cartoon character, and that ultimately makes the film more effective in squeezing our adrenal glands.
Scheider was like a lot of actors who came along in the mid-70s: good-looking, but not exceptionally handsome, regular joes who usually played ordinary working-class guys. We don’t have many actors like that these days — it seems like most of them nowadays are far too concerned with being a star, or a hero, or at least cool, to play anything so prosaic as just a guy. That wasn’t Roy. He was a guy in great movie after great movie: The French Connection, Blue Thunder, 2010: The Year We Make Contact (yeah, I like that one, so what?)… he was even a regular guy (and the most appealing aspect of) that television abortion called SeaQuest DSV. (I’ve never seen All That Jazz, the other big Scheider movie that many bloggers and journalists are mentioning today, and in which I gather Roy was anything but a regular guy. Hey, I didn’t say he couldn’t play more exotic roles, only that the stuff I remember him for was the blue-collar characters.)
Of all the regular guys he played, though, it’s that small-town New England sheriff and his battle with a mechanical shark named Bruce that I think is really going to endure, and if I were Roy Scheider, I’d have been fine with that. Jaws is one of my favorite movies; Roy Scheider was one of my favorite actors for having been in it. I hope he got that bigger boat in the end.
Courtesy of Scalzi, who seems to have a pretty good business head on his shoulders:
I guess the idea is that ambition excuses all dickheadedness in the long run. Sorry, it doesn’t.
John is talking about a very specific scenario involving pro writers and would-be pro writers, but I think it’s a good point in general. I can think of a number of young up-and-comers right here in my own company who would do well to heed those words. No one I’d name here in public, of course, but even so…
As I’ve mentioned before, I started collecting one-sheets when I was working as an usher and later a projectionist for the local multiplex. Alvin was in full bloom during that period, and manyof thepostershedesignedformovieswe ran found their way into my Archives.
If you click over to this fan site, you’re sure to recognize much more of his work than what I’ve linked to here. Alvin’s style wasn’t as recognizable as Drew Struzan’s, but it also didn’t suffer from the predictable quality of Struzan’s work. (It’s always fairly easy to tell which publicity still Struzan has copied a facial expression or a pose from, even though he does magical things with the image.) Alvin’s images were frequently more graphical than portrait-like, using silhouettes instead of clear faces, for example, and clean patches of color with no detail in them. It was distinctive. And it was beautiful in its own regards.
Movie posters have always excited me, stirred my imagination, whetted my appetite for the cinematic experience to come, and reminded me of the good times I’ve had in the dark. Alvin’s posters were especially good at accomplishing those tasks. I’ll miss the work he may have done in the future.
I stayed up way too late last night watching a really bad movie called One Million Years B.C. I remember liking it a lot when I was a kid, so when I ran across the DVD on sale for five bucks, and I considered that it contained stop-motion dinosaurs animated by the legendary Ray Harryhausenand Raquel Welch in a fur bikini, I thought I couldn’t go wrong. Sadly, it turned out to be one of those flicks that should’ve remained a fond memory. C’est la vie.
The real injury, however, happened when the receptionist here at my office asked me why I was looking so tired. I told her… and got a completely blank look. I didn’t expect her to recognize the movie title, but she didn’t know who Raquel Welch was either. Come on! Raquel Welch? She was only one of the biggest sex symbols of the 20th Century! And she only appeared on one of the most famous cheesecake posters ever produced! (That’s it up there at the top of the entry. I remember many comic-book ads for posters-by-mail, and this one was always the largest thing on the page. It’s still available, too.) But no, the kid had no idea whatsoever.
Some days I really feel like I may as well stop fighting it, apply for Social Security, and go invest in a rocking chair…
