Public Enemies is not, as I was informed the day that I saw it, "the worst movie ever”. It's not a particularly good movie, but it's not a bad movie. The most accurate word for Public Enemies is "flat”. In a few more words, I would go on to describe the cinematography as "extreme close up HD shaky cam”. One of the best things that Spielberg, for example, does in his treatment of period film is to make them feel as if they were made in the time they're set; Munich, despite whatever else you might say about it, felt like a seventies film.

While there are obvious aesthetic and practical considerations to take into account in the making of a period piece set in the twenties (Clint Eastwood did a pretty good job in Changeling), Michael Mann's choice to shoot Public Enemies in HD and with such proximity to the actors divorces the film from the audience. Alienating the audience with cinematography is not a good idea when you've chosen to tell an interesting story in an unengaging fashion, eking flat characterisation out of normally talented actors.

Public Enemies had the chance to have it all: bank robberies! Johnny Depp! Style! Panache! It's not dull and it's not a bad movie, but it simply doesn't work. It's a movie that asks its audience to sit there and watch for two and a half hours. Their eyes won't slide off the screen, but will they give a damn about what they're seeing? It would be a tough gambit for the studios, but this is a movie where the poster is better than the finished product; good promotion and a good cast will carry it so far, but how will it fare on word of mouth here in Australia?

The idea that Han Solo didn't shoot first is poorly implemented in the Star War Special Edition. It seems that, in 1997, George Lucas got Han Solo confused with Indiana Jones: Han is a man primarily interested in personal gain who eventually gets his heart softened by the triplet allures of love, justice and deus ex machina; Indy is an adventurer who firmly believes that things belong in museums. Surely Han couldn't do something so dirty as to shoot a dude unprovoked, Lucas must have thought. No, that's not Han at all; the Han I know chills with moon teddy bears and claps around campfires with Billy Dee Williams[1].

This theory doesn't entirely stand up in light of Indy simply shooting the guy who came at him with a scimitar in Raiders, but Lucas has never been known for his consistency, not even in the days when he had credibility as a film maker and story teller.

In light of Lucas' waning, never before have the words "Greedo shot first” been so true, so weird, or so paradoxical: this insane piece from Charlie Jane Anders examines what would have happened in a bizarro world where movies are rendered pointless but also somehow …gooder? (That word is as real as this theory!)

This hypothetical draws so heavily on knowledge of the Star Wars universe and its characters that one wonders how it would have made any sense if it were the original version of events. The best part is that it heavily references the prequel trilogy, which is great for two reasons: it assumes that Lucas had actually thought of any of this stuff at the time he made A New Hope; and, having prepared three movies before A New Hope, Lucas decided to neglect all of that in favour of Greedo killing everyone who got in his way, thereby conquering the galaxy.

Actually, that does kind of make sense. Also worthy of note is the fact that Greedo somehow manages to get directly from being pulled aboard the Death Star to rescuing Leia, which I recall having been at least slightly difficult for a team of two seat-of-the-pants professionals, a farm boy and a pair of droids. But hey, he's Greedo. He makes the trains run on time, he managed to wear a suit that was probably actually integrated into Vader's biometric systems, and he restores peace to a galaxy which apparently has a murderous law of succession.

The real question is "why not?” I have no satisfactory answer. Greedo shot first.

You may recall that I used to maintain an anime blog. Becoming disillusioned with modern trends in animation and fandom in general, I cut down my consumption and severed myself from all involvement with the community. Since then I've become a little more comfortable with my place and figure that it can't hurt to say a little every once in a while.

These words exist in my own canon, and perhaps one day I'll be able to participate on a world stage once more. I'm absorbing future anime writing into the body of Batrock.net for a less splintered presentation of my interests.

The original Macross series is one of my favourite of all time. The combination of civilian life with space warfare and compelling villains, with more emphasis on music than was usual at the time, made for a memorable series that has endured far longer than its arbitrary "brothers”, Southern Cross and Mospeada. Due to the convergence of several sets of circumstance, a couple of weeks ago I got the chance to watch the 25^th anniversary series, 2007's Macross Frontier.

My stance on Macross Frontier is complicated: sometimes I thought that it was a Macross series only cosmetically, and at others I thought that it captured key themes perfectly. Despite the lack of depth to the villainy and the frequently workmanlike action sequences, I think that overall it captured very well the essence of animated science fiction.

I do not consider the following to contain very specific spoilers, but I do comment on the outcome of the love triangle.

A while back, I got interested in MGMT. They programmed an episode of Rage, and included their own video for “Electric Feel” – both tribal and beautiful. So now they’ve come out with “Kids”, featuring a one minute prologue followed by five nightmarish minutes of a child tormented by monsters.
It’s interesting, if you like their sort of music (which, according to Wikipedia, can be classed as “Indie Rock”, “Synthpop” “Dance-punk” and “Psychedelic Pop”, suggesting they’ve got no idea what it is either). The director is also apparently part of the team who made Where The Wild Things Are:

I take Joanna Newsom’s appearance as the inattentive mother of this child to be a tacit endorsement of MGMT’s efforts. It also goes to show that a lot of the time I have to wonder what “the deal” is with music videos. The ones that grab my attention probably don’t actually “mean” anything, but they engage the eyes and, if I enjoy the music, I look into it further. My way of life isn’t exactly conducive to stumbling across videos, but they can strike in the most unexpected of places and ways.

What I’m trying to say here is that when I heard Soulja Boy’s “Crank Dat” at a law firm’s reception, my life was changed. No, really. (Not really). It would perhaps be more accurate to say that I still remember the first time I consciously came upon Scissor Sisters, and that was one of many pebbles that started an avalanche that irrevocably changed the way I live today.

The works of Lady Gaga could possibly justify a PhD thesis by this point, and I might get to them later. For now I should make it clear that the child in the video is crying, but he was totally cool with the monsters. Apparently they’re tears of fatigue or something, so I guess baby labour camps are tough work.

This post bears the Curtis Dickson Spiritual Seal of Approval!

In my youth, when I went to the optometrist I was always happy to wait because his reception had several Peanuts books on offer. I still go to the same optometrist, but now his selection of reading material is markedly different. Apart from a few Goosebumps books, which brought back fond memories of Christmases where I had to pretend to be pleased with the RL Stine paraphernalia my grandmother thrust upon me, I was surprised to find that they had turned away from the secular world.
My optometrist had started to stock Christian books for children.

An unforeseen wait ahead of me, I chose the forgotten 1989 classic Sarah and Paul Have a Visitor which promised I would “learn about Jesus!”

And learn I did. Of course, I’m entirely familiar with the sanitised version of Jesus offered by this book, as I did have religious education in my earlier days (apparently I asked for it, and my parents were never one to complain about packing me off to church on Sundays and to my youth group on Fridays while they did whatever it is parents do while their younger son is indulging in the works of Christ).  I'm even fairly, but not intimately, familiar with developments in Jesus study suitable for people over the age of twelve … which is useful when so much of Western fiction draws its inspiration from Judeo-Christian tradition, and when so much of Japanese anime and video game culture attempts to do likewise.

Synecdoche, New York is my favourite sort of movie: it exists on the edge of reality, its existence only confirmed by the fact that I saw it with a friend. It's also got another thing going for it that makes it harder to write about: the less that you know of Synecdoche, New York, the more liable you are to be surprised.

Either that or pissed off and feeling like Charlie Kaufman has wasted more than twenty years of your life. That's the beauty of the movies: you can feel strongly one way or the other. Hatred is still a response, and it's far better than apathy.

The news of Futurama's return to television was a good thing, yes? If something worthless like Family Guy can claw its way back to prime time, surely a more deserving property like Futurama could be given another chance to shine?

The revival has hit a rather sour development with the release of a casting call sheet. When I saw the news on io9 I was prepared to discount it. Delving deeper and seeing that call sheet, however, is pretty damning. I'm expecting this to explode all over certain quadrants of the internet, and for good reason: Billy West, Katey Sagal, John DiMaggio, Phil LaMarr and Maurice LaMarche are the crew of Planet Express and the people of the universe at large. They are an inextricable part of the show.

This is not like Daniel Craig succeeding Pierce Brosnan as James Bond. This is like someone killing one of your loved ones and replacing them with an android: it looks exactly like your dear old Grandmama, but it lacks her distinct personality and sounds ever so slightly off; an impersonator; an insult to the memory of someone important to you. Did no one at Fox see Changeling?

I don't see how Fox thinks they can get away with this. Part of the reason Futurama is coming back, perhaps even the entire reason, is that it has a following; people like Futurama. It has a strong and storied cast that endeared itself to audiences over 72 episodes and four movies (that I did not see) and it was genuinely funny a lot of the time.*
People who like Futurama like the cast, and anyone else is nothing more than a pale imitation. I understand replacing a voice actor for reasons of necessity:

• Death (see: legacy characters like Mickey Mouse);
• Retirement (see: Christine Cavanaugh);
• They turn out to be a serial killer who has used their position to abduct fans at conventions and then murder them.

I can't see a legitimate reason for replacing an entire, more than amply talented, ensemble (not to mention Tress MacNeille and Lauren Tom!).

"Money” is not a legitimate reason, because I can imagine that people – myself included … would not be keen to watch a Futurama that has been senselessly neutered, and therefore a large amount of the anticipated revenue stream will have died.

What is the point of watching a science fiction cartoon composed of strangers whom no one would bother ever allowing into their hearts? This is a question I ax in all sincerity: I mean, seriously, what the hell? This is arse-backwards creative philosophy. Who cares if these actors don't write or animate the material? They are still their characters, and their job is more than simply standing in front of a microphone and speaking their lines. If your cartoon is good, then your actors are going to care about the characters they represent and that care is going to translate itself to the finished product.

The call sheet is particularly insulting:

"Descriptions of these established characters follow, along with links to clips of previous episodes for reference.”

(Emphasis mine)

Who established these characters? The fact that they're providing clips of previous episodes for reference confirms that they're not seeking a new direction: they're searching for cut-price impersonators. It's my impression that voice actors have a certain professional pride: who could honestly trample over the work of people who are plainly still capable of performing the work they've become known for?

Entirely apart from not understanding the situation, understanding why people get emotionally attached to a property, it seems that Fox don't even understand that some people have sensitive ears and will not simply deafly accept a change.

People obsess over voice actors; they follow their work across the years. I do it in both cartoons and anime, as another one of my hobbies: when I saw a trailer for Secret of Monkey Island featuring LeChuck's first mate, I said aloud "Hey, it's Rob Paulsen!”- and it frustrates me to no end that I can't find a cast list for the game to confirm my suspicions. This would not go unnoticed by weird hobbyists like me, and even less fanatic types would be bound to notice a replacement of the entire cast of a cartoon with a large following.

It's particularly amazing that this would happen on a Matt Groening property. Does no one recall the multiple times that they have attempted to kill cast members of The Simpsons? Even The Simpsons remembered it, in largely unremarkable episode Homer to the Max:

Homer: Networks like animation ’cause they don’t have to pay the actors squat!

Ned:    Plus, they can replace them, and no one can tell the diddly-ifference!

They then summarily jerked around Maggie Roswell, who ended up paying for the privilege of appearing on the show (her pay cheque wouldn't cover the cost of travel to recording). Marcia Mitzman-Gaven, her replacement, was probably a good voice actress in her own right, but as Maude Flanders and Helen Lovejoy she plainly sucked. They got around this problem by largely shutting Helen up and killing Maude in Alone Again, Natura-Diddly. Roswell is back now, but Maude is still dead.

Since then there has been a variety of industrial actions and talk of strikes, but the voice actors have continued to win out. I've heard The Simpsons is improving again (I haven't particularly cared to find out), but for the longest time there the established cast was all it had going for it.
Futurama is plainly not the juggernaut that The Simpsons has proven to be, but there are clear ethical, professional and fanbase considerations that apply. I'd like to think that the Futurama fan base is strong enough to convince Fox that this is an awful decision and they'd better turn this ship around instead of charting unexplored and counter-productive territory.

*This is entirely not the time to confess that a while back I went through a listing of all of the episodes and only really appreciated about half of them, the third and fourth seasons largely, but not wholly, falling flat for me.