Book Review: A Personal Matter

Kenzaburo Oe’s novel A Personal Matter is one that is both private and traumatic. It details the life of Bird, a 27-year-old college dropout whose wife has just given birth to a deformed son. The child has a brain hernia, which means that even if he does live, he will most likely be a vegetable all his life. It would appear to Bird that the answer is obvious – let the child die, as opposed to dealing with the shame of having given birth to a monster. This sentiment is reflected in the view of his in-laws as well as the doctors at the hospital at which the baby is born. But then a divide occurs at the second, specialist hospital – those doctors want to keep the baby alive, and want to go so far as to perform an operation. Bird struggles with himself, trying to decide what to do – does he let the baby die? Or allow it to live, knowing it may never lead a normal life?

To me, this novel depicts the schizophrenia of a post-war Japan, with Western culture and traditions trying to bully their way in. Bird’s attitude is that there is no point in the child living if something is wrong with it. His shame is compounded by the way his mother-in-law treats him, and affirmed by the doctors in the first hospital. One of the doctors actually encourages him to take control and not allow the doctors in the second hospital to operate, saying that it is his choice. But in the second hospital, there is a more Western view – they feel that the life of the child must be prolonged no matter what. This is the attitude that is given, much to Bird’s chagrin.

Unable to face this problem alone, Bird seeks out an old girlfriend and holes up with her, giving in to alcohol and continuing to fight with himself to come to a decision. Would he rather let his misshapen son die rather than prolong the life of something that would cause him some much personal shame if others discovered it?

Distracted and tempted by the idea of letting the child die and running off to Africa, his life-long dream (well, the Africa part; I doubt it was his life-long dream to let his deformed child die), Bird stares into the face of his own mortality and the path he has chosen in life. Does he do what is responsible; does he save the life of the child and dedicate his life to him? Or does he run away from this problem, risking the chance that he may never stop running once he starts?

I don’t want to spoil the ending, so I’ll stop there. Bird is one of the most compelling, conflicted characters I have ever grown attached to. I was surprised and pleased with the ending of the book. I highly recommend it, especially for anyone interested in Japanese culture and/or modern Japanese literature.

Movie Review: Monster Squad

Monster Squad is basically a total pile of awesome. It’s an 80’s movie about a bunch of kids who are monster geeks and have a club (that is, of course, boys only) and pride themselves on their knowledge of monsters. Well, they’re in luck, because guess who’s coming to town? That’s right – Dracula, Frankenstein, Wolfman, Gillman, and…a Mummy! Thanks to their knowledge and 80’s American know-how, these kids are going to try to do what Van Helsing failed to do: send these icky monsters to the netherworld.

My second favorite part about this movie – other than the great one-liners, the predictable entrance of Phoebe to the club, and the ingenuous depiction of the monsters (impressive for the ‘80’s!) – was Rudy, the “tough guy” the boys recruit into the group because he is so cool. He passes their entrance exam and, while he is more of a peripheral member of the group, has some of the best lines in the entire movie. My favorite line is towards the end, when he is about to go kick some monster ass, and the boys ask where he’s going. He pulls out a crossbow and says, “I’m in the god damn club, aren’t I?”

Without a doubt, my favorite part of this movie was the character labeled only as “Scary German Guy.” He’s a creepy local who lives in a run-down house and the kids are terrified of him and are convinced HE is a monster. In the end, he helps them by translating Van Helsing’s diary (which Sean’s mom picked up at a yard sale) and also plays a critical role in the final battle.

You’ve probably already seen Monster Squad, but if you haven’t, my recommendation would be to rectify that problem. Post haste! Just don’t let creature steal your twinkie.

Movie Review: Lady Snowblood

WARNING: if you in any way love Quentin Tarantino, think that he is a god, make love to your copy of Pulp Fiction, or think Kill Bill is the best thing you’ve ever seen, don’t bother reading this review, because it is going to put your blood pressure through the roof, and I ain’t payin’ for your crappy hospital bill.

ANYWAY, I have never been a big Tarantino fan. I saw Reservoir Dogs and loved it, but everything else by him that I’ve seen, including the above-mentioned (ok, with the exception of Four Rooms and Grindhouse, in which the weakest parts were directed by him), I thought were total crap. Yes, folks, CRAP. I saw Battle Royale a few years ago, and over the summer, I watched Thriller: En Grym Film, and those made me dislike him even more. But nothing, no, NOTHING, made me hate him more than when I watched Lady Snowblood a few weeks ago.

Lady Snowblood is a Japanese ass-kicking extravaganza, with the protagonist being a mega-hot, kimono clad, tiny BADASS. Her father was brutally murdered and her mother forced to serve one of the murderers. After going to jail for, in turn, killing the killer, she got pregnant as quickly as she could and then sent her daughter off to train to get vengeance for the death of her parents (her mother died in childbirth). Snowblood trains her whole life, and then seeks her revenge, in one of the most amazing bloodbaths I have ever seen (one of the blurbs I read about the movie referred to it as a “violent ballet,” and that is the best way to describe it).

The movie starts in medias res, and the audience is given the background throughout the movie. Hmm, what does this all sound like? That’s right – almost everything, from the layout of the movie, to the camera shots, to the style of the music, to the ridiculous fountain-of-spraying-blood – all of the things Tarantino used in Kill Bill were present here, in this movie made in 1973. TARANTINO, YOU SUCK. Despite the fact that some die-hard fans know where he got these ideas from, I think that Kill Bill should be subtitled “An Homage to Lady Snowblood,” or maybe “I Stole this Right from Japan,” or even, “I Totally Freaking Suck.”

ANYWAY (picture me sighing before both of those), I think that Lady Snowblood is definitely one of the greatest vengeance films ever made. It’s definitely worth seeing. It is also definitely worth seeing, and then setting your Tarantino DVDs on fire. Take your pick!

Movie Review: Howard the Duck

I started watching movies at a very young age, and by movies, I'm referring to the kind that a kid my age never should have been watching. I saw the first Poltergeist when I was 6, Evil Dead when I was 8, and I had Young Guns II and A Nightmare on Elm Street 3 memorized before I was old enough to be confirmed. Part of the credit for this can go to Prism, a now-defunct television channel that was like a tamer version of Cinemax – it was the best way to watch Flyers games, and they did have softcore porn after midnight (not that I would ever know anything like that from first-hand experience). One movie that will always be a dear one to my heart that was introduced to me thusly was the one, the only, Howard the Duck.

On New Year’s Day, sick as a dog, I decided to check through the On Demand options, and lo and behold, I found this gem of a movie I hadn’t seen since I was just a wee lass. It was every bit as delightful as I’d remembered it – from the hilarious word plays in the Duck World, to Leah Thompson’s kick-ass 80’s clothes and hair, to the campy monster at the end – who I remember being SO much scarier when I was a kid.

I had also completely forgotten Tim Robbins was in it – probably because I saw Jacob’s Ladder around the age of 12 or 13, and tried to erase that, and every memory I had of Tim Robbins, from my brain (other than The Hudsucker Proxy. You know, for kids!). He played a wonderful part as the bumbling friend of Leah Thompson/aspiring scientist who tried to help Howard get back to his home planet.

And let’s not forget Jeffrey Jones, in my mind forever walking down a street with his clothes torn by the Bueller’s dog. He plays another scientist trying to help Howard get home who is taken over by an evil alien spirit who wants to take over the planet. But Howard decides to – well, I won’t ruin it for you. This is a MUST-SEE comic-book-made-film that is one of my all-time favorites – I could never spoil something like that!

This movie is NOT available on dvd, though I have seen rumors on the internet that it will be released in February – rumors that are not supported by Amazon.com, who only have a VHS available for sale. This doesn’t make it not true, it just means that in my narrow search, I was unable to find proof. I did, however, find that picture posted above. It's from a site called "Must Have Films Dot Com," and apparently, the movie is for sale there for $15.95. I don’t know if I trust it, but hey, if anyone’s looking for a birthday gift idea for me, it’s March 8^th, baby!

Movie Review: White Noise 2: The Light

I wanted to watch White Noise 2: The Light (which I have been affectionately referring to as “WHITE NOISER”) for one main reason: because Nathan Fillion was in it. (This is also the reason I own Slither, which is something I will never regret. Thanks, Gina!) Yes, I did enjoy the first White Noise, but for me, it was scarier - but not as quality as - I'd hoped it would be. (I'd spoil it with my one major problem with the movie, but I don't want to be “that guy.”) Anyway, the first white noise wasn't bad, and while the trailer for the second movie made it look awesome, I tried not to get my hopes up - especially because I can't stand “the new” Starbuck, so much so that I refuse to learn the actress’s name. While the special effects and performance of Fillion were both up to par, the forced plot and general cheesiness of the movie (the ending is a crapshoot) made it definitely not one I'd recommend.

The movie starts out in a rather banal fashion - Fillion's got a loving wife, an adorable son, a house in the suburbs, and a watch with a typical message of love stamped on it. This all ends rather abruptly when his wife - who has been acting rather peculiarly - is suddenly and purposefully shot by a stranger who has marched into the diner looking for them. He kills Fillion's wife and son before apologizing to Fillion and then turning the gun on himself. What? What is going on here? No one is really sure – possibly not even the actors, who seem bewildered to be immersed in such a poor plot.

After the funerals, Fillion tries to kill himself. He is on his way to his wife and son (they literally show this part in a sort-of cheesy montage into "the light") but he is brought back from the dead at the hospital. After he recovers, he starts seeing weird things on television and computer screens with EVP (Electronical Voice Phenomenon) and he also begins to see what his doctor calls "auras" around people. Whenever he sees one of those auras, he later learns that person died. So he starts to try to save the people he sees the auras around. So this movie is not actually based on the “white noise” – which he can SEE, and doesn’t need to record and play back – but rather, these auras, or “the light.” Fancy.

Well, all of this predictably goes far more horribly than he could ever imagine. We eventually discover not only why the stranger kills his wife and son (a lead he gets by connecting the man's mysterious appearance in one of his son's videos with his own experience in saving people). The plot becomes a bit corny at this point. ("At this point?!?!" the crowd roars.) I'll leave the rest to your imagination, though if you want to know both the twist and the ending, I'd be more than happy to leave them in the comments.

In short: Fillion is awesome, and always worth watching in anything, so if you're like me, go for it. (Whoever said that Fillion was going to be the next Bruce Campbell, I am a staunch believer now.) But other than that, use your rental for something else - like possibly Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (no, it’s NOT called Death Bed: The Bed That Eats People), or even Volcano High (both coming soon).

Show Review: Red vs. Blue, Season 5

If you're anything like me, you started watching Red vs. Blue five years ago without ever having played Halo. Chances are, you're not; however, it didn't stop me from laughing my ass off when Sarge said, "how about it, Grif? El-chupa thingy?" or any other scene from seasons 1 and 2 (and mild laughter for seasons 3 and 4). I did finally play Halo this past summer, and my first order of business was to get drunk and drive around in the Warthog (well, I still call it the Puma). It was probably the one nice thing my ex ever did for me. He claims to have purchased a toy Warthog for me as a going away present back in July, but seeing as I've never actually laid eyes on this mythical gift, I can only assume his true going away present for me was sadness and a propensity for cervical cancer. Touché!

Who-ha discussions aside, I finally got around to watching season 5 on the day after new years day, when I was knee-deep in my own mucous. I hadn't laughed that hard in months. Between Tucker's alien baby, the return of Tex and Doc (and Andy the bomb, with one of the funniest lines of the entire season), another trip into the mind of Caboose, more time looping (and replicating) than you can shake a stick at, as well as Sheila and Lopez acting as awesome as ever, this season is a non-stop gut buster.

The best part of the entire season, for me, went beyond the inside jokes, for which I was more than qualified, having seen the first 2 seasons at least a dozen times. It even went beyond the alternate endings provided for us. No, it was more than that - well, it was the two things combined. The best part was the version of the ending which brought the entire show full circle from season 1 and affirmed my love for that sick bastard Church more than ever - though Grif, and his "greatest surrender ever" speech, is still my favorite moment from the whole show.

Ladies and gentlemen, if any doubt existed in your mind about season 5, please allow this review to dispel it. While seasons 3 and 4 paled in comparison to 1 and 2, you will be more than delighted with season 5, which will make you laugh - it'll make you cry - it'll make you want to change your voicemail to say, "Leave your lowdown at the ding-dong."

Enough said.

Artist Review: Regina Spektor

My ex-boyfriend ruined a lot of things for me: the Arcade Fire, my appetite, the delicate lining of my uterus, lazy Sunday afternoons, my fragile self-esteem, and jews, just to name a few. But these things are all temporarily ruined, thankfully - witness not only my recent biopsy-free visit to the OBGYN (take that, pre-cancer cells!) but also my sudden, immediate, and melancholy love for Regina Spektor.

Why am I mentioning my ex in all this? No, he didn't introduce me to her - that was done for me by my folk/anti-folk/bluegrass/tiny-Puerto-Rican-girl-loving friend, Chris. But Spektor's pirouetting voice reminds me so much of Joni Mitchell, a constant on my ex's mp3 player, that I got choked up when I first heard "Hotel Song" (also brutally reminding me of the fact that the ex was a cokehead...sigh).

Luckily, the ex was too focused on the manufactured sounds of Lily Allen to get into someone as talented and anti-establishment as Spektor. Her darling lyrics grip me in the way that only Fiona Apple (don't scoff, I'm referring to "Tidal") and Tori Amos (specifically referring here to "Tiny Earthquakes," still my favorite) have been able to do. I have never liked "chick singers" other than the three mentioned here - mainly due to the fact that I feel a lot of females tend to be what I said about Lily Allen, manufactured music (or that dreadful nightmare from Evanescence, Amy What’s-her-face, who, when interviewed, actually said that she didn’t realize that people were hearing her innermost thoughts, and hadn’t thought about the fact that her lyrics were exposing so much of her personal life. Uhhh???).

My introduction to Spektor was "Begin to Hope," followed by her first two albums – and I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with them all. On her first album, “Eleven Eleven,” some of the songs (to me) are reminiscent of Amanda of the Dresden Dolls. I've only just listened to the first two albums yesterday - and, well, ok, it's only my third day on the third album as well. But I'm qualified to write about this! Really! Rarely am I drawn in so quickly to an artist, especially a female one. But I'd say Spektor's got my attention.

It doesn't hurt that she's a beautiful little thing. Between her and Jessica the Bonita, I want to start an itty bitty pretty committee of love for the tiniest, cutest girls around.