Uh-oh. Ioan Gruffudd remarks on landing Mr. Fantastic of The Fantastic Four, and it sounds like (a) he’s not familiar with the character and (b) he hasn’t read the script. Schweet. Meanwhile, Lancelot’s lord and liege, Clive Owen, talks up his own comic adaptation, Sin City.
Month: July 2004
It’s not easy being green.
Jack Black as Green Lantern? No, no, no, no, no. Bryan Singer’s team on Superman Returns sounds like a step in the right direction for DC, although I’m annoyed that it means they’re off X3.
I shall become a Bat…
Also in fanboy news (there’ll be a lot this week, what with Comicon,) AICN obtains a description of the Batman Begins teaser. Hope it looks as good as it reads.
Defending the Champ.
Documentary filmmaker Ken Burns joins with civil rights leaders, John McCain, and – oddly enough – Orrin Hatch to obtain a retroactive pardon for Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight boxing champion in history. A hero to black America during the Progressive Era, Johnson was convicted under the 1913 Mann Act for the then-heinous crime of dating a white woman. You’d think Jackson’s story might cause Senator Hatch to reflect on the appropriate role of the State in private relations and persuade him to rethink his support of the pathetic Marriage Amendment. Baby steps, I guess.
Party Crasher.
At least McCain gets the message. The Senator from Arizona came out forcefully against the doomed and ridiculous amendment yesterday, arguing: “The constitutional amendment we’re debating today strikes me as antithetical in every way to the core philosophy of Republicans.” Um, have you looked around your own party lately? It’s not the Dems pushing this garbage.
Short-sighted NASA.
An outside panel of experts entreat NASA to save the Hubble, “arguably the most important telescope in history.” Given it’s been both a rare PR victory for the administration and an amazing source of scientific data, one would think the Hubble would remain a top priority, even despite all the new talk of Mars.
Invisible Touch.
Marvel’s Fantastic Four has been rounded out with the signing of Jessica “Dark Angel” Alba as Invisible Girl. Well, she’s not what I pictured at all, but I guess she’s no worse than Ray Liotta as Doctor Doom. I’ll reserve final judgment until I’ve seen some footage, but I fear this flick will be more Hulk than X2/Spidey.
Siege Perilous.
Well, in some other movie Clive Owen would’ve made a really great King Arthur. And he’s definitely very watchable here as the lead in the Jerry Bruckheimer-produced King Arthur. But this project basically feels like a Gladiator meets Tears of the Sun retread, and, aside from the characters’ names, it has very little to do with the Arthurian legend. I’d say the film’s probably better than you’ve heard, but still somewhat disappointing. Workmanlike, but ultimately rather drab.
I must say, I really can’t get my mind around the current trend in epic movie-making. After the wild success of PJ’s LotR, it should be a no-brainer: You can’t tell The Iliad without the gods, and you can’t do justice to the story of King Arthur without sorcerers, enchantments, love triangles or the Holy Grail. Demystify the legend and you end up with…well, I guess you end up with what you have here, which is a lot of grunting and flying arrows and bad hair days along Hadrian’s Wall. Admittedly, I liked the realistic take of a film like The Alamo, but it just seems unnecessary here (particularly when the “realism” portrayed involves 5th century Abu Ghreibs and an Arthur who’s a good 1000 years ahead of the times on the political philosophy front.)
As I said, Clive Owen is pretty solid, though, and he helps his case here as the next James Bond. Keira Knightley is passable given the material, although every time I see her now I can’t help but think of Winona Ryder and a quote by Bilbo Baggins (“I feel thin — sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”) Ioan Gruffudd’s performance as Lancelot was also derailed by my terminal fanboyisms, as I spent most of his screentime trying — and failing — to remove his facial hair and picture him as Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic. And the rest of the knights? Well, they’re a dirty, ragged bunch, but Ray Winstone (of Sexy Beast) and Ray Stevenson stand out as Sir Bors and Sir Deadduck respectively. Mention must also be made of a Tom Waits-voiced Stellan Skarsgard as the Saxon Big Bad, who gets off a quality zinger about Anglo-Saxon interbreeding, and who is the only person who seems to be having any fun in this project.
All in all, I suppose this movie is solid enough if you’re looking for a decently well-done entry in the long line of period war movies we’ve had of late. But, if your thoughts on King Arthur run towards Camelot, the Lady in the Lake, Morgan le Fey, or even the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, you might want to wait for the next iteration of the story (or just go rent Excalibur.)
Diesel Fuel.
The Lakers implosion becomes the Heat’s opportunity, as Shaq gets set to move to Miami, in exchange for Caron Butler, Lamar Odom, and Brian Grant. That’s a great pickup (and a gimme) for Pat Riley’s club. The Lakers should have had the sense to hold out for Dwyane Wade.
Scorn of the Sox.
“Dear Roger Clemens: Let me offer my hearty congratulations on starting the All-Star Game. Wow, that is really terrific. I’d like to note, however, that I hate you. Also: You are fat. They say you’ve got this hard-core training regimen, with calisthenics and whatnot. I’m not seeing it. You’re wicked fat.” Slate‘s Seth Stevenson exercises (and exorcises) his contempt for the Rocket.