Project Hail Mary - Out of This World

 

In 2011, an up and coming author named Andy Weir self-published a little story titled The Martian: the story of an astronaut accidentally stranded alone on the planet Mars; chronicling his efforts to survive and find a way back home. The book was adapted into a successful and enjoyably entertaining film starring Matt Damon and directed by Ridley Scott released in 2015. Despite concerns from fans of the book, the film adaptation was as accurate and respectful to the original book as possible, earning many praises from readers and film enthusiasts alike, including Dominic Noble, host of the YouTube show, Lost in Adaptation. Not only was it a good story, the film was a fantastically engaging ride with lots of well placed humor, scientific challenges, and invigorating explorations on the human condition. Not to mention many great jokes about potatoes and how they’re grown in Space. 

Now, over a decade later, Andy Weir has come charging back into the Hollywood game with an adaptation of his follow up novel, Project Hail Mary, starring Ryan Gosling and directed by Miller & Lord; you know, the guys who were fired by Disney for permitting too much improv while filming Solo: A Star Wars Story. 

That incident may have put them in directors jail for a while, but it looks like they’ve been given another well-deserved shot at the directors chair, and they have hit it out of the park! 

Project Hail Mary may very well be the first truly great feel-good movie of the year! Not only does it feature some great acting, splendid imagery, and well-crafted direction, it has the most heart I have seen out of any modern Hollywood movie this decade so far. I eagerly await the opportunity to watch this movie again! 

Based on the book of the same title, the story follows an elementary school teacher named Dr. Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling) who is approached by the government to solve a mystery most of the worlds top scientists can’t put their finger on. It turns out some mysterious cosmic phenomenon is causing the Sun, and many other stars in the known Universe, to shrink, which will eventually lead to galactic catastrophe and extinction level events. However, there is one star that appears to be unaffected by the phenomenon, located some eleven lightyears away, and their only hope is to start a special shuttle launch, using extremely powerful and experimental technology, to travel to the unaffected star, determine the reason for its immunity, and hopefully use its advantage to save the rest of the dying stars. Grace, rather reluctantly, sets out on the mission. 

There are a few more aspects of the story that I am deliberately leaving out, despite the possibility that you may have already learned about it in the trailers. But on the off chance that you have not yet seen any of the trailers, I promise you will have a significantly more satisfying experience if you go see the movie only knowing what I have described here. 

This movie is, hands down, my present favorite contender for potentially the best film of the year so far! Throughout the entire runtime, I found myself in awe with the characters, the commitment to intelligent storytelling, and especially the technical aspects of the filmmaking (how did they make the lens flairs do that?). What sells the entire story so well is the remarkable chemistry between the two main characters (you’ll see what I mean), and the unique friendship they form, which feels more tangible and relatable than I might have imagined. 

Project Hail Mary is an experience the likes of which only comes around, pardon the pun, when the stars are perfectly aligned. This film is as genuine, intelligent, and heartfelt as you can ever hope for, so please stop reading this and go see it immediately. I will not be offended, and you will be in for one heck of a ride!

Absolutely go see it! 

Ladies and gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

My Reaction to Timothée Chalamet's Comments About the Arts

 

🥰 Beautiful 🥰

        One thing about the modern age that has often troubled me is how overly reactive of a society we have become. On the one hand, I appreciate that more and more people are paying attention to things that have, historically, not had enough attention or advocacy given to them, such as the need for better mental healthcare and the injustices of many still-oppressed people to this day. But, on the other hand, I don’t appreciate how too many people appear to leap to conclusions whenever someone makes a comment or a statement that, while sounding controversial and inappropriate in the moment, may not be what was intended, yet people are quick to judge, ridicule, and criticize. This isn’t to say that such reactions aren’t valid or justified (they often are), but there are times when it benefits everyone to take a breath before responding to something on social media. Yes, I’m guilty of this myself, and yes, I’m also trying to do better. 

The most recent example of this unusual situation is a comment made by the young actor, Timothée Chalamet, late of the Dune remake, the prequel to Willy Wonka, and one of this years Oscar contenders in Marty Supreme, about the arts as a whole in the age of streaming and TikTok. While I cannot proclaim to understand what his intentions may have been with his comments, I can say that I understand why many people would be upset about them. I can also understand that, to a degree, I get where he was likely coming from, and I do believe that he could have phrased his comments in a better way. Plus, we could have taken a moment to contemplate before expressing our distain. 

If you please; hear me out. 

For those of you who may have missed this story (like I did), during an interview on CNN’s Variety, Timothée Chalamet commented on the movement to support movie theaters in the modern age, given their massive decline due to aggressive competition from streaming platforms and the like. This topic caused Chalamet to say, “I don’t want to be working in ballet or opera. Things where it’s like, ‘Hey, keep this thing alive, even though no one cares about this any more.’” Shortly after, he would attempt to clarify his comments by saying, “All respect to all the ballet and opera people out there…” but the damage had already been done, and the internet screamed as it typically does, albeit for understandable reasons. 

Now, despite how this sounds on the surface, there are a few ways this comment may be interpreted: one, he may have intended to comment on the perception of how seemingly not enough people care about the arts as they should, which is a valid observation and genuine concern for the modern age; two, he may have indeed intended to dismiss the arts as a dying aspect of modern culture, which is indeed worthy of retort; or three, he may have been looking to start a little controversy for some extra publicity during award season, which, while distasteful, isn’t anything new in Hollywood. 

In case you’re wondering, no, I do not agree with Chalamet’s comments, regardless of what he may or may not have intended! While I myself may not attend Ballet shows or the Opera as often as many others do, I find great value in their artistic expression, cultural significance, and contribution to the human condition as a whole. As an actor, filmmaker, and author, I’d like to think that I have a firm understanding and appreciation for all art forms, regardless of popularity or lack thereof. 

Having said that, while I’m not prepared to defend Chalamet’s comments, I am prepared to suggest that we take a step back and reevaluate our initial reactions. 

The part of me that still believes in the milk of human kindness, wants to believe that Chalamet was coming from a place of concern rather than apathy. Given Chalamet’s background growing up with his Ballet-teaching mother, I find it challenging to believe that he doesn’t have, at least, a little respect for the arts. But, the part of me that also recognizes the brain-rotting parasite known as the Hollywood experience, can easily suspect that Chalamet’s rise to stardom has caused his perceptions to be warped in the most unhealthiest of ways; giving himself a false sense of entitlement and superiority. The later is incredibly indicative of the Hollywood experience to this day. 

If there is one lesson we should all take away from this incident, let it be this: the arts are as necessary for a functioning society as proper governance and neighborly helpfulness. Human expression comes in many forms, some maybe more popular than others, but equally valid in their importance and contributions to the human condition. So, before we continue spending our energy screaming at a 30-year-old performer, who, admittedly, wasn't as mindful as he probably should have been, let us now redirect that energy toward proving said performer wrong; let us support and create our chosen filed of the arts, and share it with all those who may choose to join. 

“So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” 

-William Shakespeare 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Beckett - Needs to be Shorter

 

Streaming on Netflix

     One of my tried and true tricks for determining if a movie on any given streaming service is worth my time is the 20-Minute-Test: If a film doesn’t grab my attention within the first 20 minutes, I don’t bother with the rest of it. However, there are times when the 20-Minute-Test can accidentally work against a films favor, because, on rare occasions, a film can seem as though it’s not going anywhere substantial until after the first 20 minutes, which is typically a sign that a films runtime is likely overinflated for its own good. 

Such is the case with today’s subject, Beckett: a Netflix original film that, while technically good and well performed, suffers from an overextended runtime with too many scenes that move slower than they should; this includes the opening which nearly bored me to sleep, and almost prompted me to give up on the film, until it finally managed to pick up a pulse just as the 20-Minute-Test was about to expire. Patience may be a necessity, but when it comes to cinematic entertainment, it can only go so far, even when the movie manages to make it all worth it (more or less.) 

The story follows a young couple, Beckett (John David Washington), and his girlfriend, April (Alicia Vikander), on vacation together in Greece. While driving to their next destination in the dead of night, John falls asleep at the wheel and crashes the car, injuring himself and tragically killing his girlfriend. After talking to the police about the accident, Beckett returns to the scene and struggles to come to terms with what happened, only for his emotionally compromised state to be rudely interrupted by, of all things, a mysterious woman trying to shoot him dead. As Beckett runs through the Greek wilderness for his life with bad guys on his tail hellbent on ending his life, he finds himself in the middle of a political conspiracy and, through his guilt, decides to do what he can to make things right. He may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he’s determined to do the right thing for the right reasons, even if it puts his life in constant danger. 

For the most part, the film is pretty solid. The performances are well done, the script is mostly clever, and the scenery is pretty damn nice to observe and admire. The whole film lends itself to a classic 1970s style thriller in terms of style and presentation. John David Washington (son of Denzel Washington) may not yet have the same kind of dominant screen presence as his dad, but he seems to be on his way toward finding his own version of such a presence. I do look forward to seeing what more he has in store for us in the future. 

As I alluded to before, the biggest problem with the film is the runtime. Scenes move a bit too slow for their own good which only artificially inflates the films runtime. This is especially felt in the opening scenes which, though well performed, go on for way too long. If there was ever a case for the saying “less is more,” this is it! 

If you can manage to get past the slower pace of the opening scene, then your patience will be rewarded with an adequate thriller; though it would have been more satisfying if the runtime was brought down by at least thirty minutes. 

Worth a shot. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

How Not to Make a Movie 101 - I, Robot (2004)

Issac Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics

First Law: 

A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 

Second Law:

A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 

Third Law: 

A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law. 

Welcome to another edition of How Not to Make a Movie 101: the segment of TheNorm’s blog where we examine the lessons to be learned from horrendous and egregious injustices of cinema. 

Some of my beautiful readers may recall some time ago, I posted an entry on my blog discussing my distain for a handful of clichés and Hollywood business practices, that rubbed me the wrong way (to put it mildly), and the most rage-inducing is what I refer to as The In-Name-Only Movie: films that feature a title, plot elements, and/or characters from a recognizable I.P., but deviate from the source material so substantially and offensively that it could qualify as fraud. This kind of disrespectful manipulation of the material and the audience is, sadly, far too commonplace in Hollywood, and it has been prevalent even before the modern era of corporate buyouts, mergers, and political appeasements! 

Todays subject, the “adaptation” of Issac Asimov’s science-fiction anthology novel, I, Robot, starring Will Smith from 2004, is indubitably the worst offender of this cinematic crime! Not only does it insult a massive fan base of a beloved work of classic sci-fi literature, but it spits in the face of genuine efforts made my talented screenwriters to make something different and original, or at least not directly based on a pre-existing work. If there was ever a case in point for the early signs of Hollywoods inevitable implosion, this was it! 

And today, we’re going to be dissecting this monstrosity to better learn what makes it so unworthy of existence, and how to avoid such a devastation ever again. 

Class is now in session! 

Lesson 1: 

Believe in the Script

Back in the 1990s, an up-and-coming screenwriter by the name of Jeff Vintar, penned a script called Hardwired: an Agatha Christy style murder mystery in which the suspects were all robots, and one human detective is on the case to find the robot who committed the crime. If that sounds like an interesting and potentially engaging idea, that’s because it is, and Jeff Vintar went about trying to get it produced. He pitched the script to 20th Century Fox (now 20th Century Studios), who had recently acquired the rights to Asimov’s works, including his anthology novel I, Robot. In an eager push to make a profit off their recent acquisition of such a beloved I.P., 20th Century Fox accepted Vintar’s script, under the condition that he change the title and insert a few elements from Asimov’s novel. 20th Century Fox then got Will Smith to play the lead, prompting them to hire another screenwriter, who was tasked with making the script more action oriented and “Will Smith friendly,” i.e. make everything in the film revolve around what Will Smith does best rather than ask him to actually act. 

This kind of filmmaking by accountants is already sinister and disgusting in and of itself, but what makes it especially egregious in this case is the blatant apathy toward both Jeff Vintar’s original script and Issac Asimov’s novel. Why? Because in all of the short stories that comprise the novel, none, I repeat, NONE of them feature a story about a robot killing a human being, strictly because of the aforementioned Three Laws of Robotics. Also, did I mention that the book was a collection of short stories? Because I don’t think I’ve driven that fact hard enough! 

If the studio truly wanted to make an adaptation of Asimov’s novel, they should have made it an anthology film in the vain of Wild Tales, The Animatrix, and Memories. Instead, they chose to shoehorn a handful of unrelated narrative elements and a familiar title onto a script that had absolutely nothing to do with Asimov’s stories and concepts! 

Now, those who have seen the generic Will Smith robot action film pretending to be I, Robot will inevitably point to the twist near the end, where the highly advanced super computer known as VIKI, which has been tasked with the safety of the entire human race, comes to the conclusion that if humans continued to govern themselves, they would inevitably continue to harm each other and their futures, with no possibility of learning their lessons. Therefore, in order to fulfill her duties as humanities guardian, VIKI had to overthrow the human race for their own safety and the greater good. 

This argument is, I’m sorry to say, completely invalid and narratively unsatisfactory. Because, according to the Three Laws of Robotics, which are the first things shown at the beginning of the film, if VIKI discovered that humans would come to greater harm if she did nothing (an automatic violation of the First law), but also realized that in order to do something, it would mean harming humans (an automatic violation of the First Law), she would have instantly spiraled into a paradox and shut down entirely! This actually happens to some of the robots in Asimov’s novel, including a super computer just like VIKI. Therefore, no, they did not discover some clever loophole in the Three Laws; they disregarded the narrative rules entirely so they could end the movie with Will Smith in a machine gun fight against an army of humanoid iPods! 

If you don’t believe in the script, don’t agree to make the movie. If you have the rights to a preexisting property, find a way to genuinely adapt it to the silver screen. And if you come across an idea that has as much potential as Jeff Vintar’s script once did, either have the courage to take on the challenge yourself or hand it to someone else. Part of creating great works of art is recognizing when someone is more skilled and talented than yourself, and trusting them to handle your property with the care and respect it deserves. 

Lesson 2: 

Balance Story and Action 

Another problem with the film is the insulting lack of proper balance between the story and action set pieces. As I mentioned before, another screenwriter was hired by the studio to add some action to the script. However, said writer failed to justify any of his choices or succeed in making his action concepts flow within the narrative naturally or justifiably. 

Consider one of the greatest martial-arts epics ever produced (and one of my personal favorites), Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Based on the book by Du Lu Wang, starring Chow Yun-Fat, Michelle Yeoh, and directed by Academy Award Winner Ang Lee, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is one of the most memorable and nuanced martial-arts films ever crafted for many reasons; the most prominent (and relevant to this blog entry) being it has a sensational sense of balance between the narrative and the action/fight scenes. 

During the film, there is an established sense of flow that feels natural and justifiable. Whenever the film transitions into an action scene, breaking away from the main narrative, it never feels abrupt or out of place. Every action scene in the film is carefully weaved into the narrative, allowing the story to create a greater sense of impact and nuance not often scene in many other films of the genre. 

The action scenes in the Will Smith vehicle masquerading as an adaptation of I, robot never feels like that, because the script never had action scenes in mind, or at least not to the level as presented in the film. Because the original script was written as a murder mystery first, it didn’t have much in the way of wiggle room for action scenes as abrupt and massive as say, a giant construction robot tasked with demolishing the house of a murder victim during an on-going investigation in the middle of the night, before police and other interested parties had the chance to study all that was there. Oh wait, that actually happened in the film! 

The movie so desperately wants to be a visceral action vehicle for the biggest star of the time, that it treats the mystery aspect of the original script less like an integral part of the story, and more like a begrudged obligation. It could not be more obvious that the producers of the film didn’t care about crafting something engaging and only wanted something to replicate a roller coaster experience. While there may have been plenty of scripts and concepts lying around that would have lended themselves to such an idea, Venter’s script and the works of Issac Asimov did not lend themselves to such ideas! 

Know where your ideas may best fit the story; narrative dictates what is best suited for its execution. 

Lesson 3: 

Never Underestimate the Audience

The studio was under the delusion that it was producing a safe product that would, theoretically, provide maximum success purely by the virtue of a popular performers presence, unjustified high octane action, and, dare I say, dumbed down versions of complex themes. They attempted to secure themselves in the knowledge that they could put out a bland, unchallenging, and un-engaging thing that would appeal to more audiences and deliver a “sure” profit. In short, the studio committed the one transgression against audiences that has repeatedly proven to be a sure way to guarantee a total loss in every possible way: they assumed the audience was stupid! 

The Will Smith vehicle calling itself I, Robot is not only insulting as a failed “adaptation,” it is insulting as a film on its own merits. Even if the attempted connection to Issac Asimov’s works weren’t present, the film itself would still be an overly simplified mess that has no tangible emotional resonance, offers nothing substantial either in concept or nuance, and talks down to the audience in the most egregious and immature ways imaginable. This is not a film; it is a product intended for mass consumption that ultimately delivers nothing of meaning or value. It is a collection of things that accountants said were popular and insisted upon including in the presentation, but offered no ideas of how to make them functional or properly entertaining. 

Conclusion: 

The works of Issac Asimov offer a wide variety of possibilities for cinematic presentations. They are intelligent, engaging, and highly nuanced stories that offer a different way of thinking about technology, humanity, and how our choices can effect our future in many ways. These things are worthy and deserving of exploration in the world of cinematic storytelling, provided they are handled by the right kinds of artists. The robot movie with the title I, Robot plastered onto its face is nothing more than a tragic reminder of how much Hollywood continues to fail. Let this train wreck serve as a reminder of what happens when apathy and greed demands too much undeserving control; real creators aren’t afraid to take risks! 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Retro Review - First Blood (1982)

    Most people associate the character of John Rambo, as portrayed by Sylvester Stallone, with 80’s-style schlock machismo action; not helped by the greater emphasis on over-the-top action concepts in the later films and other unusual projects, like the Saturday morning cartoon show, Rambo: The Force of Freedom (it was very common for 80’s “R” rated action heroes to have toy lines and cartoon shows made after them, including Terminator and Robocop.) In fact, the most iconic image of Rambo is of him wielding a massive machine gun screaming in rage as he spray-fires all around him (with no shirt on). 

While it’s easy to remember the kind of action icon that Rambo would become, it is just as easy to forget that he came from a much humbler and more nuanced beginning. The very first Rambo film, First Blood from 1982, is not only a classic action movie; it is also a significantly more nuanced and relevant story about soldiers with PTSD, unfair treatment of military veterans, and a near perfect representation of true vs. toxic masculinity. It is also one of my favorite films of this particular genre, serving as an important reminder of how much more seriously we, as a nation, need to take mental and emotional health, and why caring for our soldiers matters more than we may choose to believe. 

Based on the book by David Morrell, the story follows a Vietnam War veteran named John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) walking his way through the mountains of Washington. As Rambo makes his way to a small town called Hope looking for a place to eat, he’s confronted by the local Sheriff, a stern man named Teasle (Brian Dennehy), who takes an instant disliking of Rambo (mistaking him for a dangerous drifter) and escorts him outside of town insisting he not return. Rambo instantly ignores Teasle’s warning and is arrested for vagrancy. As the rather abusive officers try to put Rambo through processing, they inadvertently trigger his memories as a P.O.W. (Prisoner Of War) and set him spiraling into a rampage, escaping the Sheriff’s Station with only his knife. As the authorities chase Rambo down, Teasle soon discovers they he has started a new kind of war that he, nor his deputies, are equipped to handle, and could have easily been avoided, were it not for his misplaced sense of pride. 

First Blood is one of those films where the story behind its production is equally nuanced and engaging as the narrative presented therein. The biggest obstacle this film faced was the lack of people interested and willing to make it in the first place. At the time, any discussion about the Vietnam war was incredibly sensitive and too difficult for discussion, especially in the realm of Hollywood. Multiple known directors, including John Frankenheimer, either dropped out of the project or rejected it entirely. This problem also lent itself to the casting of the protagonist, which had a slew of well-known actors considered for the role, including Robert Redford, James Caan, and Al Pacino. All of these recurring problems weren’t helped by the script (more on that later), which was going through so many drafts near-complete rewrites, that it almost became nothing like the book that inspired the whole thing in the first place. Then again, a script starting with one idea, only to morph into something else entirely, is how we eventually got Robocop.

After nearly a decade of directors, writers, and actors dropping out or rejecting the project, the film finally found a home in director Ted Kotcheff, and a finalized script by Michael Kozoll, William Sackheim, and Sylvester Stallone, who also played the lead role. 

One of the more interesting aspects of the film is how much it differs from the original book, while more or less maintaining the intended spirit and message. According to Dominic Noble of the YouTube show Lost in Adaptation, many of the characters, including Rambo, went through a few fundamental changes for the adaptation. David Morrell (the original author) intended the story to be morally ambiguous enough to raise uncertainty as to who the hero and villain were. One startling difference that showcases this intention is how, in the film, Rambo goes out of his way to not kill the people who are pursuing him, making efforts to merely wound and incapacitate them; whereas in the original book, Rambo murders every single person he encounters during his rampage, including a few dogs. In both the film and the book, Sheriff Teasle still drew the proverbial first blood, but Rambo from the book has a little more claim to the destruction and death he causes. Also, minor spoiler, unlike the film version, Rambo dies at the end of the book. 

This isn’t to say that the changes made in the film are “simplified” or “dumbed down” for the sake of the audience, not at all; both takes on the story are valid in their reasoning and intentions with regard to its overall theme of judging people by their looks and mistreating soldiers. David Morrell himself stated that he prefers the film over his book, and I think it’s easy to see why; it’s a classic case of the right version living on and the right one meeting his demise. 

Despite all of this, what makes First Blood a true classic of its kind isn’t the action or the incredible stunt work (most of which was done by Stallone); it’s the ending scene with the most powerfully delivered monologue ever put to celluloid. Without spoiling anything for those who have still not yet seen this film, the ending of First Blood features, arguably, one of Stallone’s greatest performances, and showcases his intelligent ability as a writer. Because, in this moment, we see someone who has spent the entire film taking down forces of foes with little to nothing, enduring unspeakable situations, and receiving no sympathy from anyone around him, suddenly break down and reveal his humanity. It is a moment that, at least to me, shows true masculinity through vulnerability and emotional frustration. It is the one scene in the entire film that has stood the test of time and is the most vital moment cementing the films theme and message. I dare you to watch this scene without feeling something, anything, for what is happening and the implications of its real-world connections. 

First Blood is a must-watch classic for many reasons. It showcases what makes a good script, how to work with limited resources, and what it means to be supportive of those who need it most. Sure, the action is incredible with resounding entertainment value in its own right, but it’s all in service to a story about the dangers of misplaced pride, the consequences of false senses of superiority, and the necessity for compassion and understanding in the modern world, especially when it comes to those willing to sacrifice so much for the sake of what is supposed to make our Country great. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading.