Steven Harper Piziks

Darwin and I saw the latest MISSION IMPOSSIBLE movie yesterday, theoretically the last one. With Tom Cruise, anyway. It was well-filmed and acted, with lots of big action scenes and stuff. But it was overlong. Several scenes went on for too many beats, and you find yourself saying, "Okay, okay, we get it. Let's move on!" The show also alternated between outrageous and, well ... impossible action, and closeups of characters talking in low, intense voices. Once I noticed the latter, I couldn't stop noticing, and I wondered why the director made that particular choice.

The MI movies have also strayed far from their original concept. MI was more about tricks and traps and heists than action. There were scenes in which a couple bad guys would enter a room to talk to another set of bad guys. They exchanged information and the first set of bad guys would leave. Then the room was suddenly revealed to be a fake set, and the other bad guys were disguised. It was a ruse to get the information! Stuff like that. There was only one such scene in this movie, and it barely qualified: Ethan tricks some bad guys with a fake tooth. The rest of it is action, action, action.

I noticed that every single bit of the action scenes follows a pattern. 1) Ethan has to do something (open a door, flip a switch, eat his breakfast). 2)  Some obstacle presents itself and prevents him (the door is stuck, the switch doesn't work, the toaster is shorted out). 3) Ethan tries to force the original plan to work (yank on the door, hit the power switch, shove the bread down again). 4) This doesn't work. 5) Ethan devises a workaround (taking the door off its hinges, pulling the switch apart and repairing it, buying a new toaster). 6) This solution works, but it sends us back to 1), where Ethan is trying to do something. Repeat until the audience is ready to throttle the director in frustration.

Deep sea stuff, especially deep sea stuff involving large objects like submarines, shipwrecks, and whales, freaks me badly, so a good quarter of the movie had me filtering the movie through my fingers. Darwin is severely acrophobic, so another quarter of the movie had =him= filtering the movie through his fingers. 

Since this was a Part II, the screenwriters cleverly fill in backstory from Part I, but don't stop there. Endless references to the previous movies sneak in, including a minor character from the very first movie who plays a major role in this one. I imagine he was startled to get a phone call from a casting director who said, "Remember that role you played 30 years ago? Great! Are you free?"

The movie is worth seeing if you want to empty your mind for a while and follow the story of someone who's having a way worse day than you are. It's not worth seeing twice, though.

 Darwin and I saw Shazam: Fury of the Gods yesterday. It was a fun movie and we enjoyed it. A lot of critics were clawing their eyes out, but geez louise, folks--this is a popcorn movie, not high art.

There were a couple misfires. (Minor spoilers follow.) Billy and Freddy are supposed to be seventeen, but they act like middle schoolers, as they did in the first movie. Made no sense. The unicorns didn't work. At all. Not one bit. And the product placements, especially Skittles, were heavy-handed and embarrassing.

But there was a lot of cool. The gay reveal--yay! The audience we were with cheered. And so many Shazam comics Easter eggs, including the RV from the 70s TV show. And cameos galore (see the 70s TV show above). And the final scene with another super-hero--a delight!

So we were happy.

The big deal about THE ETERNALS is that it's the first Marvel movie with a gay super-hero in it, one who is married, with a husband and son.

I really wanted to like it.  I tried to like it.  I couldn't.

(Light spoilers follow.)

The Eternals are a group of immortal super-beings, each with their own power--matter transmutation, super-speed, mind control, illusion, flight and strength, and so on. They were sent to Earth by another being, a Celestial, to stop monsters called Deviants from wiping out the human race.

The movie itself is unfortunately and deeply flawed.  Like I said, I really wanted to like it, and I tried, but nothing really worked.  At the beginning, we're dropped into an action sequence in the stone age. A Deviant kills a man in front of his son, and the boy doesn't even react.  In fact, when the Deviants wipe out a big chunk of the village, no one really seems to mind much. The boy, who should have been frightened and traumatized, expressionlessly accepts the gift of a knife from one of the Eternals instead.

This set the tone for the rest of the movie.

The Eternals are outside humanity, supposed to be apart from it. And most of them are hard-bitten and even uncaring. Ikarus, the male lead, spends most of the movie stony-faced and rigid. He's in love with Sersi, but he never seems to take joy out of that. He doesn't seem to get joy out of anything, really.  Sersi seems to feel the same way--their relationship is a burden, not a support, and she puts up with it because she feels she should, rather than out of any real romantic attraction.  Sprite, the mischief-maker, also rarely cracks a smile, and uses her illusions for workaday heroics. We never see her get any =fun= out of her powers.  Kingo, a blaster hero, seems to be the only one who likes what he's doing, but even he turns overly serious halfway through the show.  The actors decided that immortality has hardened the characters and made them either less than or more than human.  An interesting choice, but it means the characters feel remote, and I couldn't connect with them.

There was an attempt to humanize Sersi by giving her a human boyfriend, but it actually makes the problem worse. The boyfriend--whose name I'm forgetting--takes the news of Sersi's true identity with sarcastic resignation, the world-weary sigh of someone who's already seen super-heroes stop world-wrecking events. His low-key acceptance is, perhaps, different, but it's ultimately off-putting. He was a chance to inject some humanity in the show, and that chance was thrown away.

Director Chloe Zhao also seems to have little idea of how to pace a story. Just when the movie gets some momentum going and the tension builds nicely, she stops the story dead for long, long minutes so the characters can emote at each other. I found myself checking my watch, never a good sign. The time-hopping structure of the story (starting in the distant past, jumping back to the present, popping into the past again) makes this worse. It's hard to keep track of what's going on, and we have to put the present storyline on hold every time we're plopped back into the past again.  It's another momentum-killing device.

And then we come to Phastos, the much-heralded First Gay Movie Super-Hero.  He falls flat.

This isn't the fault of Henry Tyree, the actor who plays him.  Tyree does a great job.  It's the script and the director who fail the character. First, make no mistake, Phastos is a minor character. He's absent from most of the movie, in fact. After the first few scenes, the Eternals basically split up and scatter around the world. Later, Ikarus and Sersi travel around the world, trying to reunite them so they can fight a new threat.  This could have been done quickly, much in the way Paul Neuman picks up grifters in THE STING. Instead, Zhao slowly, frustratingly takes. Her. Time. We have a long, long, LONG scene partway through the gathering process in which the characters gathered so far share a meal.

Guess who isn't there yet?

At LONG last, the characters get off their asses and look for Phastos. They find him in a suburb with, to the surprise of his fellow Eternals, a husband named Ben and their young son.  We have a set of family-oriented scenes here that, I think, are meant to normalize a same-sex relationship, but the relationship itself is dry. Everything is too matter-of-fact. Like Sersi's boyfriend, Ben doesn't seem much affected by the revelation of Phastos's true identity, and when he learns Phastos needs to leave them to go fight evil, Ben sends him off with a smile and a quick, dry kiss of the sort you give your husband when he's going away for a two-day conference.  There was no attempt whatsoever to show romance or, heaven forbid, passion.  (And I have to point out that Sersi and Ikarus, our straight couple, get an extensive and passionate lovemaking scene.) 

Later, after the Great Big Battle, the Eternals come back together, but do we get a scene in which Phastos is reunited with his husband and son? Do we see Ben and Phastos fling themselves into an embrace with thank-god-you're-okay-I-love-you-so-much? Do we seen Phastos's son leap into his arms shrieking "Daddy!"?

No, we don't.  Instead, we blip to a farmhouse.  Phastos is in a living room eating pizza. Ben is nowhere to be seen, and their son is in the kitchen, talking to another Eternal. Later, Ben pops in to deliver one line, and Phastos decides to rush into the kitchen, but not to talk to his son, whom he deliberately pushes aside, but to talk to his team-mate.

It drains all emotion from the scene.

This is doubly problematic in a movie that stutters and stammers because the plot gets interrupted for emotional emoting for emo emotions. Zhao is willing to sacrifice pacing so her straight people can emote at each other, but she won't do the same for her gay folk.

A few audience members did shout and clap during the kiss.  I just shrugged.  It could have been--should have been--much better.

It's abundantly clear Disney/Marvel is testing the waters. They decided we could have a gay man, but he couldn't be =too= gay. We could have a same-sex marriage, but it has to be completely, blandly domestic. We could have two men who are married, but they have to keep romance and passion off-screen.  It has to be bland and boring in order to exist at all.

I'm glad we have a gay super-hero in the Marvel movies. I'm hoping it leads to more of them.  I suppose it's inevitable that the first one is botched.  But I'm tired of feeling that way.

I wanted THE ETERNALS to be an awesome movie, with an interesting, fast-paced story with a prominent and heart-felt gay relationship. I got something entirely, and disappointingly, different.

Last night Darwin and I went to see Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse.  It lives up to the hype.  And it had not one, but TWO major plot twists that I failed to see coming.  This, like, NEVER happens. Like many writers, I can see plot twists coming because I CREATE plot twists.  It's kind of sucky because you never get to be surprised at movies.  But these two--both involving villains--got me good.  They startled me, and I was pleased. 

Darwin didn't enjoy it much, though.

I liked it very much and look forward to getting it on DVD.

Yesterday, Darwin and I were watching a Big Name Spy Thriller on DVD.  It had the same plot every other spy thriller uses:

STEP ONE: Spy Protagonist learns of an object he needs to get hold of in order to save the world or himself (called "the McGuffin").
STEP TWO: Spy rushes from exotic location to exotic location in search of the McGuffin while various Bad People try to kill him.  Various vehicle chases through crowded cities ensue. Much time is spent on Magic Computers.
STEP THREE: An Evil Person within the Spy's own organization, who is secretly employing the Bad People, tries to sabotage the Spy's efforts and nearly succeeds.
STEP FOUR: The Spy gets the McGuffin, kills the Bad People, and kills the Evil Person.

We want to look at the Magic Computers.

Goodness me, computers can do anything these days!  Especially in a movie.  According to the movie Darwin and I watched, in fact, a computer and its attached hacker can:

1. delete a thousand files from another computer in a split-second
2. shut off the electricity to a single building in a foreign country with less than a minute's work
3. track down a single person whose face appears on a traffic camera anywhere in the world seconds after his face shows up
4. grab control of a landline telephone and use that phone to take control of an unconnected laptop sitting a foot away from it (I shit you not--the movie actually had a CIA hacker do this)
5. enhance a distant, blurry photo of a woman into a photo clear enough to use on a magazine cover in less than a second
6. hack into one of the most secure mainframes in the world while the owners of said mainframe watch helplessly (why they don't simply unplug their modems goes unexplained)
7. instantly toss video and photo files to huge, Star Trek-style screens on a wall without anyone ever saying, "Hold it . . . hold it . . . dammit, the system is really slow right now . . . a couple more seconds . . . okay, here we go . . . "
8. instantly notice when a particular person even touches a computer anywhere in the world or accesses a particular file saved on a flash drive, but CAN'T TRACK A CELL PHONE!

Not one of these things is remotely possible today.  Number 4 had both Darwin and me in an outrage, it was so stupid.  And this movie (one of the Jason Bourne flicks, if you have to know) isn't in any way unusual.

Hollywood computers and computer operators can find out literally anything, in seconds, in ways that bear no resemblance to reality.  If you need to know it or find it, a computer will do it for you, no matter how outrageous.  All you need is a character who is supposed to be a "brilliant hacker."  ("Brilliant hacker" is code for "magician.")  Hackers and computers are basically witches with crystal balls.

It's become a bad trope.  True hacking or other computer ability takes years and years of practice.  You need to study code, spend weeks writing programs, make friends with other hackers and learn the seamy underside of the Internet.  It's an extremely precise field.  If you make a mistake, you'll get caught right quick, with dire consequences.  The field also changes every day, sometimes every minute, and you have to keep up.

But Hollywood treats computer work like musical talent.  You can sit the right person with the right talent down at a computer, and BAM!  Instant hacker who can get you exactly what you need to know.  It gets so bad that on SUPERGIRL, Winn went from low-level IT guy to having the ability to take down an alien computer system--with a virus he wrote in the nineties!  Because . . . talent, right?  Because there are people who can sit down at a piano and turn out amazing work with almost no experience, so it must be the same with computers, right?

No.  It doesn't work that way.  All the computer talent in the world won't grant you knowledge and precision.  Hollywood is just using a cheap trick.  As a writer, I can understand wanting a quick tool to push the story forward.  The Magic Computer will do that.  The problem is, Hollywood does it so often, and so badly, that it's become a bad, BAD cliche. 

And have you noticed that no one ever touches a mouse?  It's true!  Hollywood is all about fingers chattering on the keyboard.  In reality, of course, everyone--including hackers--spends most of their time with mouse and cursor.  A clicking keyboard is more dynamic on the silver screen, though, so Hollywood runs with it.  Except we've noticed.  (Now that I've pointed it out to you, you won't be able to help but notice it!)

Please, Hollywood--end the Magic Computer.  We know better.

My husband Darwin likes horror movies.  As a rule, I don't.  I do like SF movies, though, and here we have ALIEN: COVENANT, which combines the two genres.  This, I thought, would be a perfect date movie!  Horror for Darwin, SF for me.

Then I learned it has a gay couple in it.  A married gay couple.

You might think this would engender happiness.  Joy.  Even a certain amount a giddiness.  Instead, my metaphorical ears went back and my hackles went up.  I spent a few minutes looking up spoilers and discovered my hackles were justified.

I will not see this movie.  I will not rent the DVD.  I will not support this movie.  And I urge you to do the same.

SPOILERS (you are warned)

According to various on-line sources, the sins of the same-sex relationship portrayal are the standard ones we've come to expect.  First, although there were several initial shots to the contrary, there is little or no indication of a marriage--or any kind of relationship--between the two men throughout the film.  They don't touch.  They don't exchange endearments.  There was apparently a brief moment of hugging between them in a preview, but that scene has been cut from the film, and that preview has been removed from the Internet.  In other words, gay people are still invisible.  No LGBT characters are actually in the spotlight.  No LGBT protagonists.  Just a couple of background guys who may or may not be in a relationship.

But the worst sin comes early in the movie.  Hallett, one of the men, becomes infected with the alien infection, and a baby alien bursts out of his face.  (Not his chest, like in the other movies, but out of his freakin' face.  He's gay, so we have to up the nastiness.)  While the ship's captain leans in to murmur quiet apologies, Hallett's husband Lope whispers, "I love you" and then is forced to walk away.

One more time, we have the tragic gay.  Gay men continue to be the objects of tragedy and disgust and ridicule.  We're only interesting or worthy if we watch our partners die.  No happy relationships for the gay guy.  In fact, we're going to get an alien burst out of our faces, just to super-compound the tragedy.  Because, you know, just dying of an alien tearing out of your chest isn't bad enough for the gays.  Let's make it worse.

No.

I will not spend a dime for that movie.  I urge you to avoid it as well.