Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Mother (Japanese TV Drama): Part 1


Prefatory Note: I will use the Japanese convention of listing the family (last) name first and the given name last--basically the opposite of how we write names in America.

I love a good action movie. From Kick-Ass and The Raid to Aliens and Die Hard, a well choreographed, directed, and edited action film thrills me, enthralls me, delights me. Indeed, what may be my favorite film, The Incredibles, features a healthy dose of pyrotechnic action alongside the ingeniously constructed story and richly realized characters.

Not to say that I have totally eschewed non-action films to this point. I have a great fondness for films such as Beauty and the Beast, City Lights, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Moonrise Kingdom. But to say that I actively seek out soap operas and weepy TV series would be erroneous. Which, of course, is the very nature of Japanese dramas (and Korean ones too, from what I gather).

I can't quite recall how I stumbled upon Mother, or, more importantly, why I decided to watch it.  Chalk it up to an unexplainable whim, of which I admittedly have many. Maybe it's because I'm half-Japanese and wanted to "explore my roots." Maybe I wanted to see how much Japanese I could remember from high school. (Not a whole lot, as it turned out). But I got sucked into watching all 11 episodes of this exceptional series (most episodes are 46 minutes, with the first running 71 minutes and the last running 58 minutes).

Now, this is a drama in which almost all the characters--certainly all the important ones--are female. Yet in an age when many female characters are still either one-note damsels-in-distress or tough chicks, it's more than refreshing to find a show in which--just as in life--we find a wide range of female characters, each of whom feature their own complexities, nuances, and variegated approaches to life.

Here's the basic premise: A young woman, Suzuhara Nao, is subbing at an elementary school and forms a connection with an oddly perspicacious student, eight-year-old Michiki Rena. Over the course of the pilot, Nao discovers that Rena doesn't have the best home situation; an utterly despicable (yet sadly believable) act by Rena's mother sets the plot in motion…

Before I start gushing, I will say that the show isn't without its flaws. Many scenes are very deliberately paced, to put it kindly, and could have been tightened up just a bit. The penultimate episode's cliffhanger also promises more than what the finale actually delivered--not that the ending was bad, it's just that it didn't quite reach the heights of what came before. The main plot involves Nao and Rena, but some of the scenes devoted to the subplots aren't quite as engaging. But the show's biggest blunder is about three-quarters through the final episode. Just as a poignant scene is about to hit its emotional peak, those stupid sponsor logos pop up directly over the scene, complete with the a voice-over saying, "Thank you to these companies for ruining this scene," or something to that effect. It doesn't help that the smiling moon logo of the main sponsor, Kao, makes you want to punch it right in its smug little moon-face.

The acting throughout is superb. Matsuyuki Yasuko plays Nao as understated, forgoing extreme facial calisthenics in favor of a more natural approach. Her emotions churn deep inside her, yet you can tell that they're there. When the circumstances of the story inevitably cause those emotions to erupt, it's all the more emotionally affecting. Ono Machiko as Michiki Hitomi, Rena's mom, does well portraying a distasteful, pitiful character in a hopeless situation she's mostly created for herself. (Ono is also great in Saikou no Rikon, in which she plays in irrepressibly vivacious bundle of life. When some actors portray characters on opposite sides of the spectrum, it seems like they're trying too hard. Yet Ono pulls off both these disparate characters with impressive aplomb.)

Takahata Atsuko (the voice of Lady Sagami in The Tale of the Princess Kaguya) as Suzuhara Toko, Nao's mother, is an outwardly blunt, caustic hard-hitter with a deep reservoir of emotion. In one scene, she's signing an important document, and the look of utter despondency on her face, not believing what's happening and not knowing where to turn, is painful. Tanaka Yuko (the voice of Lady Eboshi in Princess Mononoke) plays Mochizuki Hana; I won't reveal her part in the story, but she deftly portrays a character whose heartbreaking forbearance stems from a deeply ingrained sense of guilt.

The dialogue (written by Sakamoto Yuji, screenwriter of the aforementioned Saikou no Rikon) adroitly encapsulates the thoughts and emotions of each character. Yes, some of the scenes between Nao and Hana are a bit slow, but these characters in particular are expressing their innermost feelings for the first time; it makes sense that they take time to get their points across.

The episodes are structured in such a way that most of them end with a cliffhanger. Each episode ends with the credits playing (unobtrusively) over the final minutes. In one episode, the credits come at the very beginning, which should tip you off that some sh*t's going to go down at the end of the episode--and boy, does it ever.

(MILD SPOILER) And, of course, in another episode the credits play over a lighthearted (though somewhat bittersweet) scene that, for those so inclined (i.e., not me), causes an "Aww, how cute" reaction. The credits end, and the scene seems to be over. The episode's done, right? Then, out of nowhere, the scene gets extremely emotional very quickly, a poignant gut-punch that devastated me, catching me completely off guard. (END MILD SPOILER)

And the mastermind behind this little scene? Tune in next time to read about Mother's most essential ingredient, the attribute that lifted it from a well-written drama into an artistic tour de force that I will keep thinking about for years to come.

Read Part 2 here.

Monday, October 12, 2015

Pan (John Powell)

In Brief:
John Powell, a rather cheeky chap who, refreshingly, doesn't seem to give a hoot about proper interview decorum, writes some of the most breathlessly irrepressible, exhilarating music on the planet. Unfortunately, many of his solo animation scores (especially the Blue Sky efforts) switch styles and tones at such a head-spinning rate (a technique known as "Mickey-Mousing") that they fail to create a sense of momentum, making them difficult to enjoy. You could call them ADHD scores. But when Powell creates (or is allowed to create) a score with coherent development, the results are sensational: the How to Train Your Dragon series (referred to as HTTYD for the rest of this post), Bolt, X-Men: The Last Stand, and (with Harry Gregson-Williams) Antz and Chicken Run are among the finest scores written today. His score for Pan sits somewhere between his sublime scores and his schizophrenic ones, incorporating elements of both.

Pan, starring Hugh Jackman, is an origin story of the famed Greek god with Jackman as the eponymous hero; he won the role over James McAvoy in a bitter, hard-fought contest. Just kidding; of course, it's a prequel to James Barrie's renowned play about the Boy Who you know the rest. (No, not "Lived.") Director Joe Wright normally works with talented composer Dario Marianelli (Oscar-winner for his score to Wright's Atonement), but the studio, presciently concerned about the appeal of the film, replaced Marianelli with Powell. Because as Troy and the 2013 Romeo and Juliet proved, when a film fares poorly with test audiences, changing the score will fix everything.

Pan's score starts out rather nondescriptly, but it gains strength, vitality, and consistency as it goes along. Many of the early cues are plagued by abrupt shifts, I assume to reflect the comic nature of the on-screen action; just as you think the music is going to burst forth in a glorious explosion of melody, it stops and changes gears to more slapstick music. But by the time the climactic action cues "Flying Ship Fight" (how descriptive) and "A Boy Who Could Fly" roll around, the tone becomes more consistently adventurous and swashbuckling. I was able to discern three themes, though to be honest, I only picked out the main theme on my first listen. Peter's theme and what I call the "origin" theme are short motifs of only a few notes each; the former theme does have a B section, but it's seldom used--I only hear it in "Floating/Neverland Ahoy!" and "Transfiguration." The main theme, while rousing, has an opening phrase very similar to the flying theme from HTTYD. But hey, the opening to Miklós Rózsa's main themes for Knights of the Round Table, El Cid, and Judah's theme for Ben-Hur sound similar; they're all masterpieces, so I won't give Powell too much grief.

"Kidnapped/Galleon Dog Fight" contains the toe-tapping, stylish, rhythmically peppy kind of music that practically screams Powell; it'll bring a smile to the face of anyone who likes and is familiar with his work. The poignant material lacks emotional depth, but perhaps that's just reflecting the film itself. The aforementioned climactic action tracks are like Powell's HTTYD scores on a diet, but they still feature the composer's busy orchestral figures, intense choral writing, radiant fanfares, and fantastic build-ups to thunderous renditions of thrilling melodies. Those unfamiliar with Powell's work would be better off listening to his How to Train Your Dragon scores (or the portion of Kung Fu Panda 2 linked below), and those familiar with his work will probably be reminded of some of his other, superior scores. Still, some cues did give me an adrenaline rush, impressing me with their surging vibrancy and only slightly restrained grandeur. Though tempered in parts by its comic mood shifts, Powell's score to Pan, when at its best, gushes with verve.

Playlist-Worthy Tracks:
Kidnapped/Galleon Dog Fight
Inverted Galleon
Pirates vs Heroes vs Natives vs Chickens
A Warrior's Fate
Flying Ship Fight
A Boy Who Could Fly
Transfiguration

Analysis Begins with Anal:

Prefatory Note: The CD includes four songs (you know, those things with lyrics), but other than a dark, stentorian rendition of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" for choir, none of them grabbed me at all.

Opening Overture: A piano solo introduces the main theme. Although this main theme mainly appears in an adventurous guise, this first statement is almost melancholy. Dancing, pulsing strings take over before becoming more tender (like meat). A delicate flute and then strings play a meandering melody over glittering harp, mallet percussion, and subtle guitar.

Air Raid/Office Raid: Pizzicato strings, snare drum, and high strings frolic over fluttery flute interjections. Lower instruments take over, followed by a tuba allusion to the main theme. Clarinet plays a florid, more recognizable development of the main theme.

Kidnapped/Galleon Dog Fight: Piano and brass chorale trade phrases, introducing what I'll call Peter's theme (but who knows, it could be Batman's theme). Snare and churning orchestra hurtle into a massive downward glissando that in turn leads to Powell's signature rhythmic, effervescent action, complete with an array of percussion. The main theme enters on strings before an almost mariachi-like brass outburst at 1:26. The jazzy Powell groove continues with an energetic two-note high string phrase. At 3:49 a more dramatic melody enters on brass, but flute keeps the tone lighthearted. The energy increases as a meandering melody continues above swirling string and woodwind runs. Brimming with the zest of Powell's animation scores (Kung Fu Panda, Bolt), this track reminds me why Powell's music can be so irresistible.

Floating/Neverland Ahoy!: Shimmering harp and flutes lead to a beautiful string statement of Peter's theme. With a sudden sting, the score turns playful again. Subtle electric guitar and orchestra state one of the most complete statements of Peter's theme over snazzy percussion.

Murmurs of Love and Death: A fiddle-like violin plays under string swells. The strings start a cyclical ostinato as instruments play off each other's beats--this would probably sound like a mess if played by a middle-school orchestra. This passage reminds me a bit of the track "Sphere and Loathing" from Michael Giacchino's Tomorrowland. A sudden col legno hit at 1:19 has significant startle potential if you play the score at high volume like I did. Strings take their time playing a slow melody.

Mine Escape: Acoustic guitar and strings lead to a hint of the main theme. Fluttering flute and guitar continue as flute, oboe, brass, then full orchestra continue to develop the main theme, including an agile, "pirate-jig" variation starting at 1:49. Invigorating string swirls lend energy, but the comical stop and go nature of the music interrupts the momentum slightly. In the final minute, a tubular bell toll and pause precede the boldest statement of the main theme yet.

Inverted Galleon: An exuberant version of the main theme missing the tenth note (lending a dynamic vigor to the theme) gives way to an adventurous variation of Peter's theme. Robust descending brass phrases recall the action music from HTTYD. Another pause leads to a triumphant statement of Peter's theme and a brief rhythmically energetic section, almost like Powell's "Zen Ball Master" from Kung Fu Panda 2, (0:50-3:30) but not as rousing (or long--it lasts for less than 10 seconds).

Neverbirds: Bagpipe-like instruments lead to a jig-like theme. "Tribal" percussion leads to keening strings. Orchestral Mickey-Mousing dominates the cue until a guitar softly states the main theme.

Tramp Stamp: More exotic percussion and hand clapping percolate for a minute before the orchestra enters with a semi-fanfare. Strings trade phrases of the main theme before brass and then orchestra belt radiant renditions of the same.

Origin Story: Piano introduces what I'll call the "origin" theme against menacing low brass. (I don't know what or who this theme represents, but I'm not about to see the movie to find out.) Choir enters with a doleful but sadly brief requiem before the lonely piano takes over. Strings seesaw as the origin theme hovers above. Harp and guitar strum under Peter's theme on strings.

Pirates vs Natives vs Heroes vs Chickens: An ominous circular phrase leads to a skittering ostinato, then Powell percussion rhythms take over. Almost frantic runs from various orchestral sections--string here, flutes there--cascade beneath outbursts of the main theme. The concluding descending phrase receives some particularly rousing workouts at 2:30 and 2:53, with an uncharacteristically ebullient version of the origin theme intervening at 2:40. Flute over a quiet string ostinato leads to a somewhat sinister rendition of the main theme.

Crocodiles and Mermaids: Acoustic guitar plays Peter's theme before baleful brass--for what must be the mermaids--enters. Incomplete main theme fragments poke through before ethereal voices--for what must be the crocodiles--coo over sweeping strings, harp, and an oboe phrase of the main theme.

A Warrior's Fate: The opening features a double bait-and-switch that you'll find either clever or annoying. A poignant choir note quickly makes way for a playful dance-like rhythm with Peter's theme on strings. Choir accompanies wistfully before pulling an about-face, crescendoing as male voices enter, pulling the music into menacing action mode. The voices eventually quiet down with warm strings and minor statement of Peter's theme. The main theme travels among clarinet, flute, and French horn. A rendition of the origin theme on ethnic flute (starting at 2:51), with "tribal" percussion and choral accompaniment, highlights an oddly energetic yet poignant section at cue's end.

Flying Ship Fight: The Glorious Boss Battle Part 1. Low brass and strings over clanking percussion play dangerously before main theme asserts itself. Here, stripped down to its essence, the main theme sounds even more like the flying theme from HTTYD. Fateful choir statements (at 0:48) punctuate a delicate/driving percussion ostinato--one of my favorite passages of the score. The cascading string ostinato continues as male choir takes over, amping up the energy further before momentarily quieting for Peter's theme. An utterly joyous, swashbuckling outburst of the main theme finally interrupts the cascading ostinato. At 3:05, the main theme ends with an ascending phase instead of a descending one, and then  the dynamic "missing note" version of the theme from "Inverted Galleon" starts at 3:26. The soaring origin theme plays in action mode at 4:05. Nautical rhythms abound as the action continues, chime flourishes punctuating the orchestral fireworks throughout.  A minor, exotic sounding variation of Peter's theme enters 6 minutes in with the missing note variation of the main theme following soon after. The main theme breaks down into an ostinato, flutes trilling above as the cue hurtles to an abrupt conclusion.

A Boy Who Could Fly: The Glorious Boss Battle Part 2. The melancholy piano statement of the main theme from the overture returns. Another cascading string ostinato enters with ominous bass drum beats. A fanfare-like brass statement of Peter's theme ushers in a celebratory mood. At 1:40, low brass and strings (I think) reference the origin theme. Choir (first women, then men), add to the steadily increasing pyrotechnics--impressively, the rhythm of their melody is different from what the orchestra's playing. More HTTYD-esque statements of the main theme play at 2:51. The choir continues cataclysmically, reaching almost Lord of the Rings/Mt. Doom proportions, but Powell's upbeat percussion grooves and chime runs are never too far away. About 4:08 in, an unadorned, portentous choir phrase enters, quite similar to a phrase from the cue "Phoenix Rises" from Powell's X-Men: The Last Stand. The choir continues raging alongside the origin theme. Peter's theme over humming choir (reminiscent of "Toothless Lost" from HTTYD 2) closes the cue.

Transfiguration: In this cue, which I assume plays under Blackbeard's transfiguration into Wolverine, the lush apotheosis of Peter's theme for the string section highlights the cue. French horn joins for the final statement. Piano, then harp and humming chorus follow.

Fetching the Boys: Playful pizzicato phrases start things off. French horn and strings briefly play the main theme in a noble guise. The snazzy energy from "Kidnapped/Galleon Dog Fight" returns (including the mariachi-like phrase). French horn, oboe, then strings play a content version of the main theme. Strings play a wandering melody before the orchestra and choir swell, fading out to a false ending. A final cadence from the orchestra provides the real ending, with a final cheeky note on glockenspiel.

Saturday, October 10, 2015

The Martian (Harry Gregson-Williams)

In Brief:

In The Martian, Matt Damon finds himself stranded on Mars. Using only disco music and potatoes (the "nassty chips" so cruelly rejected by Gollum), he devises a way to survive until NASA can bring him back to his home planet of Neptune. (Isn't that what the "N" in NASA stands for?)

Director Ridley Scott doesn't stick with one composer, but he still formed relationships with a few. Though Scott notoriously rejected parts of Jerry Goldsmith's score to Alien (and Universal subsequently rejected Goldsmith's entire score to the American release of Scott's Legend), he did manage to stick with Hans Zimmer for six films and Zimmer apprentice Marc Streitenfeld for five. Though the scores from the latter composer were unremarkable, Prometheus did boast a captivating main theme by Harry Gregson-Williams that overshadowed the rest of Streitenfeld's score. Gregson-Williams had worked with Scott on 2005's Kingdom of Heaven, the best score in a Scott film since Goldsmith's Legend 20 years earlier. Now, Gregson-Williams returns to the Scott fold, providing The Martian with a hypnotic, entrancing, and ultimately triumphant score.

Gregson-Williams generally has two sides: the propulsive, electronic sound he's used for his seven films with Ridley's late brother Tony (such as Spy Game, Man on Fire, and Unstoppable) and the lush, full-bodied orchestral idiom of Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas, the first two Narnia films, and (with John Powell) Chicken Run and Antz. His score for the Martian mixes elements from both. Captivating and, at times, thrilling electronics nestle comfortably alongside rich orchestral melodies and precisely written tunes for solo instruments. The electronic sounds range from more modern beats to optimistic-sounding 8-bit elements. The simple main theme, versatile enough to evoke different moods on different instruments, infuses the score with an aspirational quality throughout its running time. Although individual cues such as "Making Water," "Hexadecimals," and "Crossing Mars" feature remarkable orchestral/electronic build-ups, the dramatic arc of the score as a whole, slowly building to its cathartic conclusion, proves even more impressive.

There's no single cue to match the glorious (though somewhat melodically derivative) cues "Shenzou" (1:30-4:45) and "Gravity" (2:45-end) from Steven Price's score to the similarly themed--you guessed it--Gravity, but The Martian is a stronger score overall. Though not as crowd-pleasing as Gregson-Williams's Sinbad, Chicken Run, or Team America: World Police, this score boasts an impressive array of sounds and colors, both electronic and acoustic, to please the ears.

Playlist-Worthy Tracks:

Emergency Launch
Making Water
Hexadecimals
Crossing Mars
See You in a Few
Fly Like Iron Man

Analysis Begins with Anal:

Mars: A synthetic rumble leads to tinkling piano and electronics. The synthesizer then opens up the soundscape, evoking an ethereal quality. The main theme, a desolate yet aspirational tune for electric guitar, enters. A low string variation of the theme is framed by bubbling low synth.

Emergency Launch: The cue opens with a bass beat with ominous low string swells and a see-sawing phrase that recalls Jerry Goldsmith's Alien score. A stylish, somewhat "pop"-like string ostinato leads to ominous brass. A string chorale with answering brass blossoms to an emotional statement of the main theme with subtle choir. Eerie choir and strings lend an otherworldly tint to the end of the cue.

Making Water: A buzzing synth leads to rippling harp over an upbeat, charmingly old-fashioned-sounding synth beat. A propulsive string ostinato enters, the main theme growing on strings and horns over snare-like percussion. Gregson-Williams deftly creates a sense of momentum, adding new electronic elements, orchestral instruments, and volume as the cue progresses. In some ways, this cue resembles Daft Punk's score to Tron: Legacy, a score on which Gregson-Williams consulted.

Spotting Movement: Fluttering synth ostinatos transform into a more beat-like pattern, flitting around the stereo field. The bubbling low synth from the opening track returns to round things out.

Science the S*** Out of This: A low ostinato on what I can only describe as low wind chimes precedes a variation of the main theme variation on low strings. Propulsive synths, calling to mind Gregson-Williams's work on the Metal Gear Solid video games, enter near the end.

Messages from Hermes: An echoing electric violin phrase floats over a delicate synth bed. Desolate French horn perfectly evokes the Martian landscape (though what do I know; the scene could be of Matt Damon doing the macarena).  Piano slowly ekes out the main theme.  Strings rise, leading to an energetic, almost rousing ostinato with wide intervals.

Sprouting Potatoes: (Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew.) Science-y synths and guitar lead to expressive solo cello. Strings play an optimistic motif based on four notes.

Watney's Alive!: We had science-y synths in the last track--well, now we have static-y synths. Piano attempts to form shape of main theme. The last 30 seconds pick up the pace with propulsive electronic rhythms.

Pathfinder: And now we have queasy synths. Chime-like sounds play as the piano again tries to find main theme.

Hexadecimals: More video game-y 8-bit synth, including rippling cascades, features here. A lush electronic crescendo recalls Henry Jackman's superb score to Wreck-It-Ralph (and the title track in particular).

Crossing Mars: Processed electric guitar plays the main theme over a lonely string bed. French horn and strings play a variation of the main theme in a warm, almost Americana style. The theme and instrumental layers slowly keep building and building, female choir finally entering as one of the final developments. Unlike Making Water, this track uses mostly orchestral elements to propel the momentum forward, but the effect is just as invigorating.

Reap & Sow: Sneaky Metal Gear Solid-like synths enter before turning in a completely different direction with a cello statement of the main theme. A bass drop (or whatever you call that thing that turns up in so much dubstep music) leads to a driving string ostinato and echoing trumpet phrases.

Crops Are Dead: A female voice keens an elegy (for the crops?) Bassoon takes over, finally "sobbing" out the main theme before female voice ends the cue.  The whole track is almost like a duet for soprano and bassoon, lending a quiet sincerity to the score that one wouldn't expect in a tent-pole movie.

Work the Problem: A synth noise in this cue reminds me of Robyn Miller's eerie score for the computer game Myst. A techno rhythm enters, complete with ramp up (like a less brash version of Gregson-Williams's music for The Equalizer.)

See You in a Few: Solo piano starts the cue off, sustained synth chords providing harmony. A harpsichord-esque instrument slowly plays the main theme. Piano then picks up the theme, allowing it to slowly develop over the course of the cue. Choir enters, preceding a beautiful string swell. Male choir comes to the fore before rumbling synth takes over, but the choir soon fights back as the percussion starts an invigorating rhythm.

Build a Bomb: A synth pulse makes its way around the stereo field. After a questioning, 4-note rising ostinato, the strings start to build, slowly ascending in pitch.

Fly Like Iron Man: Low bass sounds rumble under an echoing two-note flute phrase and a subtle ticking rhythm.  Dissonant brass herald a dramatic crescendo from the whole orchestra. A rapid-fire string ostinato under brass suddenly changes gears to an 8-bit-ish synth rendition of the main theme. Full orchestra, including triumphant brass and male choir, releases the tension that has been building up for the whole score. As the score closes, female choir enters, strings ending with a quiet nod to the three final notes of the opening movement of Richard Stauss's Also Spake Zarathustra (AKA the 2001: A Space Odyssey opening and closing music.)


[Linked Youtube videos are not my uploads.]

Saturday, October 3, 2015

The Walk (Alan Silvestri)

In Brief:

Alan Silvestri, who has scored every Robert Zemeckis film since Romancing the Stone in 1984, provides his most faithful collaborator with a warmhearted score. The film, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt (best known for his critically-acclamied role as Cobra Commander in the first GI Joe movie), chronicles Phillipe Petit's leisurely stroll between the two towers of the World Trade Center. From a wire stretched between the towers' roofs. I'm guessing the film's about more than just the walk, especially as the film's 123 minutes long and the walk itself took about 45 minutes in real life. Or who knows; maybe the credits are 78 minutes long.

The most welcome feature of this score, at a time when most film scores are percussive, synth-based walls of sound, is the varied orchestration. Solo instruments, especially woodwinds, get their time to shine, the players pouring their hearts and carbon dioxide into simple yet gorgeous melodies that enrich the score. Lending variety to the soundtrack are passages of blues/jazz, lush French-flavored waltzes, and brief snatches of brassy, rhythmic action in the best Silvestri tradition (a la Back to the Future and The Avengers). However, the bulk of the score emphasizes warm string writing; an intriguing echoing-piano effect recurs throughout, with eerie (or cheap, depending on your tastes) female synth choir coming to the fore in the last half of the score. While not as thematically rich and stirring as the composer's Forrest Gump, The Polar Express, or even Stuart Little and Lilo & Stitch, it is nowhere near as subdued as Flight, Cast Away, or The Bodyguard. Although there are some recognizable motifs, there's no single strong theme. Yet the stylistic variety, delicacy and clarity of the orchestrations, and sincerity of the melodies add up to a decent achievement from this veteran composer.

Playlist-Worthy Tracks:
Young Phillipe
The Towers of Notre Dame
"We Have a Problem"
"I Feel Thankful"
"They Want to Kill You"
"Perhaps You Brought Them to Life--Gave Them a Soul"

Analysis Begins with Anal:

Pouquoi?: Waves of strings, reminiscent of Cast Away, are what really lie beneath an echoing piano motif. The cue transitions to cool jazz (or maybe that's the wrong term; I don't know all the sub genres of blues/jazz) in the same mold as Who Framed Roger Rabbit? with plucked string bass, sax, drum kit, and muted trumpet.

Young Phillipe: Piano and almost ethereal strings lead into a playful brass waltz, which blossoms gloriously into full orchestra. This delightfully lyrical waltz theme, presumably for some romantic aspect of the story, is the strongest melody of the score.

Two Loves: An accordion serves as the rhythmic spine for a melancholy tune in 3/4 time. Pizzicato strings back flute, clarinet, and piano before the string section takes up the sighing melody.

Towers of Notre Dame: Accordion, clarinet and a plucked instrument I ashamedly can't name lend a distinctly French (but not stuck-up) flavor to the proceedings. The mood changes to jazz again with ballsy brass outbursts and a flute trill before the lovely waltz theme returns in full orchestra; clarinet and celeste gracefully round out the piece.

"It's Something Beautiful": A churning string motor leads to a synth crash. Synth beats pulse under an expectant bassoon tune. Later in the cue, sparse piano hovers above a sustained string line, finishing with the orchestral waltz theme.

Spy Work: Silvestri provides his take on 1960s spy music, complete with bongos, muted brass, and a fat low (tenor? baritone?) sax bass line.

Full of Doubt: Portentous chimes lead to the return of the expectant bassoon tune from "It's Something Beautiful."

Time Passes: Churning strings and brass outbursts find Silvestri in his comfortable action mode. At 0:37, we're treated to a trademark Silvestri brass fanfare and response from strings. The next section with tick-tocking percussion and synth recalls his some of his work on the TV show Cosmos. The strings crescendo against counterpoint from French horns and then trumpets. Frenzied strings build to a final brass stinger.

The Arrow: A cello playing a gypsy-like melody opens the track. Celeste (or maybe it's glockenspiel) play a mischievous, Elfman-like line, charmingly repeated by brass. Strings continue to churn before dying down to meditative piano, celeste, and oboe. A string ostinato returns below menacing low brass.

"We Have a Problem": The ostinato from last track returns, but in pizzicato with a couple of statement from celeste. Silvestri enters his familiar militaristic action mode again before an explosion of synth percussion precedes a continuance of the ostinato. A fatalistic line from trumpets, then strings enters as the synths intensify. A dramatic melody (whose opening sounds just a little like Davy Jones's theme from Hans Zimmer's Pirated of the Caribbean score) provides some neat structural symmetry; as with the previous fatalistic line, it's played by trumpets and repeated in the string section.

The Walk: The Cast Away tone of first track, complete with echoing piano over strings, is reprised. Female synth voices make their first entrance in the score at  2:45 (bringing to mind Titanic, of all things). Strings and horns eventually enter, swelling with a sense of relief.

"I Feel Thankful": The track opens with Fur Elise on piano before the full orchestra--strings then brass--take it up. The bulk of the cue consists of a quasi-march, interrupted twice. The first time, flute, clarinet, and oboe take up waltz theme over the synth choir before launching into an exquisite melody. In the second "interruption," the orchestra busts into a bittersweet theme with male synth choir (the only time we hear male synth voices on the entire soundtrack).

"They Want to Kill You": Synth and percussion punctuate skittering strings, over which an inexorable brass melody plays. The Davy Jones melody returns, then cathartic strings and female voices enter, an inspirational brass melody soaring above. A variation of the melody subsequently repeats in low strings.

"There Is No Why": A brief heavenly string statement, similar to Silvestri's score for James Cameron's The Abyss (the melodic shape recalls the opening of "Bud on the Ledge") opens the cue. The Cast Away swells and echoing piano return briefly before giving way to a  tender, deliberately paced melody for strings with scattered woodwind solos. Echoing piano returns to close the cue.

"Perhaps You Brought Them to Life--Given Them a Soul": Perhaps this cue's lengthy, vaguely pretentious title is an homage to James Horner (who recently passed away in June).  English horn (or very low oboe) starts things off before clarinet, oboe, and flute successfully play fragments of the waltz melody. However, Silvestri alters the tune here, the final note lifting instead of falling. Rich strings and gorgeously cascading piano follow, after which the echoing piano enters for the final time, eventually joined by the orchestra and subtle female synth choir. After a final swell of strings, the echoing piano and a low string tone close out the score on a tranquil note.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

The Iron Giant: Signature Edition

I may be biased since Brad Bird is probably my favorite living filmmaker. But The Iron Giant is still a genuinely incredible film (much like its successor) that packs a structurally airtight, good-natured, exhilarating, poignant tale into less than an hour and a half. Rife with heart-pounding action, relatable characters, and heart-wrenching moments, the movie is worthy of in-depth analysis. But for now, I'll be focusing on the Signature Edition, just released to theaters for a limited engagement.

I won't spoil the particulars of the plot here, but the basic premise is a giant robot crash lands on Earth and becomes the ward of a boy named Hogarth Hughes. Hughes finds allies in his mother, Annie, and a laid-back scrap yard owner named Dean McCoppin as he tries to conceal the giant's existence from the government, especially the pesky Agent Kent Mansley (who works for the government).

The Iron Giant did poorly at the box office in 1999; I didn't become aware of it until I saw the video at a relative's house. As a youngster, I remember being awed by the action and bold filmmaking choices. To this day, Iron Giant and The Lego Movie are still the only mainstream American animated films that I think can stand beside the very best of Disney and Pixar. So to see this film in a packed house of fellow fans was a singular opportunity I didn't want to miss.

And the audience reception was fantastic. The "hand underfoot" and lakeside scenes in particular nearly brought the house down, and there was a healthy amount of applause (and even a few cheers) at the end. The thunderous, dynamic sound mix brought clarity to every resounding footfall, weapon, and gastrointestinal burble; the late, great Michael Kamen's alternately playful and stirring score was mixed loud and proud.

The new material included an intro by Bird (expressing appreciation to the film's fans and rightly extolling the virtues of hand-drawn animation), a brief (~1 minute) sneak peak at a documentary planned for the film's Blu-ray release, a change of the Maypo commercial to something equally charming, and two entirely new scenes. Well, if you have the DVD already (and who doesn't?) you've seen the scenes already in storyboard form. But the second scene in particular is glorious to see in full animation, hinting at an even darker world lurking in the background (or the skies) of the film. The first added scene is a pleasant little moment, adding to the dramatic arcs of two of the major characters. These scenes were animated at talented animator Ken Duncan's studio; at Disney, Duncan served as supervising animator for Thomas in Pocahontas, Meg in Hercules, Jane in Tarzan, and Captain Amelia and Scroop in Treasure Planet. Other returning names I caught in the Signature Edition credits were supervising animator Tony Fucile (a regular Bird collaborator and veteran of several Disney and Pixar films) and effects supervisor Michel Gagné.

There's so much more I could say about this sublime film, but if you've seen it, you know how excellent it is already. And if you haven't seen it, what are you doing still reading this? Even if you have seen it, go see it in the theater to marvel at its splendor on the big screen. As of this writing, there's one more showing on October 4 at noon (tickets through Fathom Events). It's an awe-inspiring film, a breathtaking experience, helmed by a director about to launch a spectacular career.

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Mantis Miscellany--Ranking the X-Men Films

Originally Published August 2, 2013

With the recent and continuing glut of superhero films, including reboots and re-imaginings, the X-Men films seemed to have been somewhat lost in the shuffle nowadays. The Wolverine seems to have been a minor contender this summer compared to Iron Man 3 and Man of Steel. While the quality of the six released films varies widely, it is admirable that the franchise has run on for so long without a “hard reset” as experienced by the Hulk, Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, and (in a few years) The Fantastic Four. Okay, so the first three films had three different actresses for Kitty Pryde, and Nightcrawler was jettisoned after one film, but in a world where major characters like James Rhodes (of Iron Man) and Rachel Dawes (of Batman) are replaced so wantonly, it’s a little refreshing to see attempts at continuity.

With Marvel Studios now being expertly shepherded by Joss Whedon, it falls to controversial comic book scribe Mark Millar (Wanted, Kick-Ass, The Ultimates 1 and 2) to provide guidance to Fox’s Marvel properties (namely, X-Men and the Fantastic Four). Whatever one may think of Millar’s work, one does have to admit that the mad Scot has a soft spot for fans, communicating to them on his website’s forum (forums.millarworld.tv).

However, his influence on Fox’s Marvel films cannot yet be determined, for he had little input on The Wolverine. The film was directed by James Mangold, whose CV includes a diverse array of films such as Cop Land, Girl Interrupted, Kate & Leopold, Identity, Walk the Line, 3:10 to Yuma, and Knight and Day. Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream, Black Swan) was originally slated to direct the film, which might have been interesting. Or it might have turned out as indistinguishable from the average blockbuster as Gavin Hood’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Hood also directed the brilliant South African film Tsotsi).  At any rate, here is my personal ranking of the X-Men films. Warning: There will be spoilers! (Though I will try not to spoil too much of The Wolverine, even though you can see the final reveal coming from a million miles away).

6. X-Men: The Last Stand (Directed By Brett Ratner)

Many comic book fans complained that this film screwed with the characters too much. I don’t know a whit about the comic book X-Men aside from Millar’s run on Ultimate X-Men, but I still thought this was a poor film. Cyclops is dispatched with little fanfare (poor James Marsden) as is Mystique, and Xavier’s “death” doesn’t feel as impactful as it could have been. Nightcrawler, one of the best characters from X2, is forgotten about completely. The film is oddly dull and slow-moving until the climax on Alcatraz, which is competently directed, but comes across as a series of sequential video game missions. First, the minor mutants fight. Once that box is checked, then we move on to Magneto. Only when that mission is completed does Phoenix (AKA Jean Grey) decide to do anything. I realize that this is dramatically sound, but the way it’s conceived and directed is clunky, thus revealing the seams and removing any sense of organic flow.

 I do love the last shot, but it does render the rest of the film moot. This includes Rogue’s final decision, and it’s telling that the filmmakers weren’t sure what they wanted her to do either. They shot two versions of her final scene: one with her taking the cure and one with her not taking it, and they didn’t decide on which one to use until showing it to a test audience (source: DVD deleted scene commentary). Overall, while the direction by Ratner isn’t terrible, it is rather flat. Much more damaging is the screenplay by Simon Kinberg and Zak Penn, which is devoid of heart and doesn’t really make me care about the characters. Kinberg in particular has not written one movie I’ve liked, and it’s one of the reasons I’m worrying a bit about X-Men: Days of Future Past. I’m hoping co-writers Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman can balance him out. And speaking of Vaughn, he was originally slated to direct this film, but pulled out when he realized he wouldn’t be allowed to make the movie he wanted to make. He was very critical of The Last Stand, and rightly so.

5. X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Directed By Gavin Hood)

Most people seem to have a seething hatred for this movie. I don’t think it’s all that great, but I also don’t think it’s a disaster on the level of The Last Stand. Ryan Reynolds, who can’t seem to catch a break, is reasonably funny as pre-Deadpool, and future John Carter actors Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins as Gambit and Silverfox, respectively. The film doesn’t come together as well as it should, with a bunch of side characters who feel shoehorned in. Logan’s relationship with Victor Creed is implausibly inconsistent. I realize that making them either best buds or bitter enemies isn’t as interesting, but the lack of depth to their relationship makes it seem like Creed’s final decision comes out of nowhere. He and Logan are slicing each other up for the whole movie, and then he just decides to leave.

The actual story of the film also takes a while to get going. After a mawkish childhood prologue, there is a neat title sequence featuring Logan and Creed fighting in different wars though time, but it sadly reduces their early relationship to a montage that focuses more on the cool visuals than on character. Then there is a lengthy excursion with Logan working for William Stryker (the same jerk from X2) and an abbreviated introduction to Silverfox and her relationship with Logan before Stryker returns. Then he gets his adamantium skeleton, and before we know it, he’s flying with Gambit to Three Mile Island for the final confrontation. It’s an oddly paced film, with some scenes seeming to stretch on, but with the whole movie feeling like it could have used more flesh on its bones. The connections to the other X-Men films (particularly with Cyclops) don’t fit well onto the spine of the story. We’ll see how director Gavin Hood does with the upcoming Ender’s Game; if that’s a dog, then we’ll know that Hood really is suited to smaller, more character driven films (like the aforementioned Tsotsi).

4. The Wolverine (Directed By James Mangold)

I was actually debating whether to put this before or after the first X-Men film. The Wolverine does have some really neat moments, and I loved that it was set in Japan, but it was let down by the final act. I didn’t really get into this film until Logan gets to Japan, which thankfully doesn’t take too long.  The film benefits from two superb female characters Yukio and Mariko, a rarity in comic book films. Neither is as great as Hit-Girl obviously, but both characters feature surprisingly nuanced portrayals with some earned emotional moments (though I do also like Anna Paquin in the first X-Men, dodgy accent aside). The former disappears for a long stretch of the film and the latter becomes a damsel in distress at the end, but both are very welcome whenever they appear. Much less impressive is Viper, who is more annoying than threatening, and I know this is superficial, but I was very distracted by that rather unbecoming beauty spot on her lip (I’m not a fan of beauty spots in general).  Frankly, she comes across as an asshole. Famke Janssen as Jean Grey gets a few nice scenes. Will Yun Lee (also seen in the prologue to the James Bond film Die Another Day) is fine as Mariko’s fiancée, though he could’ve used more screentime and development of his arc.

The final villain is severely underdeveloped, especially since he isn’t revealed until just before his demise. We don’t really get a sense of what drove him to do what he did and what changed him as a person. It certainly doesn’t help that his it’s obvious who he is long before the reveal. Logan’s struggle with immortality is interesting, but is merely touched on before it’s dropped. The early action scenes are mostly well done, with a neat bullet train sequence that is unfortunately not character-based at all, as Wolverine is fighting a bunch of anonymous henchmen. The final battle is underwhelming, though Yukio does get some nice moments and there are some consequences for Logan. Other pluses include Hugh Jackman’s portrayal of Logan and the Japan setting, but in the end, the movie ended up promising more that it delivered. The mid-credits scene, though, is pretty chill-inducing.

3. X-Men (Directed By Bryan Singer)

This film, released in 2000, arguably set off the modern superhero film craze. The duo of X-Men and X2, followed by the even better Spider-Man and Spider-Man 2 (these two are the real amazing Spider-Man films), proved that superheroes in film could be popular again. Director Bryan Singer had previously directed smaller films like Public Access, Apt Pupil, and the superlative The Usual Suspects, and proved he could adequately handle a big-budget blockbuster (though it took until X2 for him to really find his stride). X-Men has a surprisingly small feel despite a climax atop the Statue of Liberty, and the action sequences until the end are minimal. There are some uneasy touches, like the accents of Storm and Rogue, and a Joss Whedon-penned line (the “toad struck by lightning” zinger) that either Halle Barry or Singer completely misunderstood (likely both) and thus made it sound more horrible than it should have. Then again, Whedon also wrote the film’s best line (“You’re a dick.”) The actual screenplay by David Hayter (also the voice of Snake in Metal Gear Solid) is, well, solid. Get out of my mind, Liquid!

Most of the cast, including Jackman, Patrick Stewart, and Ian McKellan, is effective, and the story does an admirable job at introducing the characters and giving them depth and conflict. Rogue, played by the always-welcome Anna Paquin, happily gets a lot to do here, and in many ways it is more through her eyes than Logan’s through which we are introduced to the X-Men. Paquin superbly portrays her sense of alienation that’s actually quite affecting (if you ignore the fake accent which she thankfully dropped in subsequent films), supported by a subplot with Bobby Drake/Iceman and Mystique. In way, her character perfectly encapsulates the mutants’ struggles with acceptance in their society. It’s too bad that she was basically ignored in the sequels, though at least she got to feature in at least one film. Poor Cyclops was shafted in all three. Speaking of Cyclops, the love triangle between him, Logan, and Jean Grey isn’t quite as compelling as it could have been; Logan does come across as an opportunistic churl, and Cyclops is a bit of a cipher.  The story chugs along at a decent pace towards the climax, which is effectively staged. There is a sense of Singer and the cast getting their feet wet, so the film isn’t as polished as X2, but it’s a good introduction to these characters and their world.

2. X2: X-Men United (Directed By Bryan Singer)

X2 improves upon the first X-Men film, with more assured direction by Singer and a script that, for the most part, expands upon issues only touched upon previously. It also introduces one of the best cinematic X-Men characters: Nightcrawler. Alan Cumming gives a highly sympathetic performance as the character grows from mind-controlled killer to insecure outcast to hero. We get more backstory for Logan without sacrificing all the mystery, a temporary team-up of the X-Men with Magneto, and a truly detestable villain in William Stryker, who provides a real threat without coming across as just annoying and toothless (see Viper in The Wolverine). The theme of mutant acceptance is fleshed out with a scene featuring Iceman and his parents. This time, we not only get a sense of rejection and betrayal—his stupid brother calls the police!—but also an immediate sense of danger as Pyro attacks the police when they arrive. It’s effective, even if it borders on preachy.

There are also some great action set pieces, starting with Nightcrawler’s attack on the White House and continuing with a horrifying assault by Stryker’s forces on the X-Men mansion. The X-Jet chase with the fighter jets is kind of stupid, but is given visual interest by Storm’s “perfect storm.” The extended climax is tense and exciting with constant reversals of fortune, highlights being Logan’s fight with Deathstrike, Magneto’s manipulation of Xavier in Stryker’s Cerebro, and Jean’s “sacrifice.” But the climax does drag on for too long and seems to end several times (at 134 minutes, this is the longest X-Men film). The scene where Stryker’s son manipulates Xavier to kill all the mutants seems a little off and unconvincing. Maybe it’s because Xavier gives in so easily, or maybe because the kid in that scene doesn’t act very well (or wasn’t directed well). The final scene with Stryker drags a bit, and the whole thing gets a little cumbersome by the end. Some of the themes are stated in a heavy-handed manner as well. But these are only small issues that detract only minimally from this film’s considerable strengths.

1. X-Men: First Class (Directed By Matthew Vaughn)

Ironically, my favorite X-Men film has only one cast member from the previous X-Men films, and it’s in a cameo—though it’s probably one of the funniest cameos I’ve seen. Before the film came out, certain fanboys derisively referred to the film as a choice phrase made by taking one letter out of the word First and two out of Class (I’ll let you figure out which letters they are.) Most of them were shut up by the final product, an expertly-directed film featuring two elite lead performances and depth of character beyond any found in the previous X-Men films. The few minor hiccups include underdeveloped side characters and a wooden performance by January Jones as Emma Frost, the former due to diminished prep time and the latter due to who knows what. But these are vastly overshadowed by the film’s firm grasp of character and story structure, and much of that is probably attributable to director Matthew Vaughn.

I was a fan of Vaughn before First Class (he also directed Layer Cake, Stardust, and Kick-Ass), but was worried about how his anarchic sensibility would fit into the more mainstream world of X-Men. There are some more conventional elements, such as the side characters, but Vaughn was able to bring a sense of unpredictability and even harshness into the X-Men films. From the first scene with Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon) and a young Magneto to Shaw’s demise, the aforementioned cameo, some of Magneto’s early acts, and not one but two scenes set at sex parlors, the film is at the higher end of the PG-13 rating. (The Wolverine undoubtedly benefited from the trail blazed by Vaughn in First Class). But beyond these superficial elements, Vaughn also devotes extensive time to building the relationship between Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) and Erik/Magneto (Michael Fassbender). The script, a rewrite by Vaughn and Jane Goldman from a previous draft by Ashley Edward Miller and Zack Stentz, mines the richness between the two mutants as much as a major superhero film can. The scene where Charles helps Erik move the radar dish is my favorite scene in the whole X-Men series—a perfect combination of despair, triumph, and release. Despite these explorations, the film never drags, and even the scenes with the “sidekick” mutants are entertaining. Jennifer Lawrence also does a stellar job as Mystique, creating a charismatic character who still has a ways to go before she becomes the Mystique of the first three X-Men films. Her relationship with Hank McCoy/Beast (Nicholas Hoult) is understated, and the inner conflicts of both characters deeply affect that relationship. Vaughn and the actors do a great job of bringing the characters—especially Charles, Erik, Mystique, and Beast—to life.

It wouldn’t be a major superhero film without action, and Vaughn proves that he is one of the best action directors working today. All of Erik’s early scenes are filled with suspense and brutality, including the boat scene where he runs into Charles. Shaw’s attack on the mutant compound exceeds the mansion attack in X2 in terms of terror, thrills, conflict, and emotion. The last half hour of the film is a cornucopia of exhilarating action, nail-biting suspense, and emotional release. Unlike in X2, the pace never drags and all the various action scenes are masterfully conceived and put together. Vaughn always shows the action clearly, his unobtrusive camera work letting the thrills stand on their own. There is no shortage of great moments, including Banshee’s method of flying, the sub lift, and the final confrontation with Shaw. Even after the “boss” is defeated, there is still a threat, and it relates to Erik’s character. And he is stopped not by a slash of adamantium claws or a bursting dam, but by himself when he realizes what he’s done to Charles. It all culminates in an emotional apotheosis that, while not spectacular or tear-jerking, is entirely fitting. I know I sound like a raving fanboy, but I do enjoy this film a lot, and I do acknowledge its mentioned weaknesses (yes, “mutant and proud” is pretty cheesy). It’s not even my favorite comic book or superhero film, and it’s actually my least favorite of Vaughn’s four films. But I still like it, and I can’t really apologize for that.

The Future

Next up is X-Men: Days of Future Past, directed by Bryan Singer and written by Matthew Vaughn, Jane Goldman, and Simon Kinberg. As it features both the First Class cast and the original cast in a time travel story, there is a risk that the film could become a bloated mess. I would be a little more excited about the film if Vaughn were directing (he originally was, but left, and to top it off, he’s not doing Kick-Ass 2 either) or if Kinberg wasn’t involved (unfortunately, he’s working on a Star Wars film too, though not Episode VII). Though admittedly, most of the original cast is probably in the film because of Singer. The Usual Suspects was a high peak early in Singer’s career, and one could argue that X2 was a later, somewhat smaller peak that he hasn’t matched since. After X2, Singer went on to do Superman Returns, Valkyrie, and Jack the Giant Slayer. Not a lot to inspire confidence there, but maybe he can reach his earlier heights again. There’s a lot of expectation for this film, and as it’s always a bummer to be disappointed, here’s hoping that Singer delivers.

Mantis Miscellany--Christopher Nolan and Re-watchability

Originally Published June 8, 2013

Director Christopher Nolan has inspired two bandwagons: one consisting of devoted followers and one consisting of those who think he’s an overrated hack. There are certainly those like me who fall in between, but they are either drowned out by the screaming of the opposing camps or they simply do not wish to participate in what has become a tired debate.

If I had to generalize about Nolan’s films, I would say that he’s one of the better writers and filmmakers working today, but there are other films that appeal to me more. I have seen six of his films: Memento, the Dark Knight trilogy, The Prestige, and Inception. I enjoyed all of them on first viewing but found something troubling on repeat viewings: four of them didn’t have a whole lot of re-watch value for me.

Why should this be so? Ironically, the ones that do have re-watch value are the two with “twist” endings: Memento and The Prestige. Memento in particular remains my favorite Nolan film; it so well crafted that I don’t really care that I know the “twist.” Nolan enriches the films with subtle details and character moments that dazzle and astonish more than the large-scale action in his later blockbusters. There is also a dark humor in many scenes (I love the scene where Leonard is running, sees another guy running, then wonders whether he’s the one chasing or being chased) that works better than some of the limp attempts at humor in later films. The Prestige was especially exciting on first viewing, as I had no idea what to expect and what was going to happen. It’s the film where Nolan best captures the mingled senses of mystery and anticipation. These feelings that Nolan engenders are what make The Prestige superior to Inception to me; although the latter is structurally impressive, there is a rote, detached feeling to the goings-on.

Memento and The Prestige also have by far the least amount of action out of the six Nolan films I’ve seen. I love action films—or I should say, I love good action films. Raiders of the Lost Ark, Die Hard, the first two Terminator films, Aliens, The Matrix, The Incredibles, Kick-Ass, and The Avengers are just a few of my favorites. I even enjoy “guilty” pleasures like Speed, The Mummy, and the first Pirates of the Caribbean. But I do not think Nolan is a great, or even good action director. Batman Begins had the curse of the close-up shaky cam where you can’t tell what’s going on. Even though Nolan has since rectified this, his action scenes come across as rather plodding and prosaic. Worst of all, they fail to generate any sense of excitement or tension. The Tumbler/Batpod/truck chase in The Dark Knight is the only exception I can think of. From the muddy fight scenes in Batman Begins and the tedious fistfight with the Joker’s goons in The Dark Knight (the “sonar-vision” detracting from the scene more than anything) to the infamous, interminable “Call of Duty” snow level in Inception and the surprisingly flaccid climax in The Dark Knight Rises, Nolan’s action scenes fail to impress.

I don’t want to be to hard on a director who is clearly trying to create a more intelligent breed of action blockbuster. I certainly think he’s infinitely preferable to Michael Bay and his ilk. It’s just a shame that his action scenes come across so flat; Stephen Sommers stages and shoots better action scenes (though the stories surrounding them are vastly inferior). Sadly, many of the character scenes in the Batman films and Inception come across as lethargic as well. I don’t know whether they are brought down by the surrounding action or are just weak on their own. Regardless, individual scenes in a film have to work together in order for the film as a whole to work (duh).

The big ideas and general concepts in Inception and the Batman films (well, the first two at least) are great, but Nolan doesn’t pull them off with the finesse that I see in Memento and The Prestige. Tighter editing and better dialogue would help. I’m thinking specifically of the Rachel scenes in BOTH of the first two Batman films (recasting didn’t help and actually might have hurt), the rather on-the-nose nature of Harvey Dent’s dialogue, some of Selina Kyle’s lines regarding the haves vs. the have-nots, and the school bus scene in The Dark Knight Rises. As for Inception, many of Cobb’s scenes with Mal drag when really they should be intriguing, disturbing, and heartfelt. Instead of being the soul of the film, they feel tacked on.

But these are minor quibbles compared to the cold, clinical tone of these films. Nolan works hard to create this sense of grittiness and as a result, most attempts at creating emotion feel forced. Combining grit and heart is difficult to do well. Even great filmmakers like David Fincher (The Game) and Steven Spielberg (War of the Worlds) struggle with this, and these films aren’t among the best in their oeuvre. Perhaps Nolan should be lauded for trying to do achieve this balance, even if it takes many films until he gets it right (if ever). But as much as Nolan is praised for his “grit,” it comes across to me as more detachment than the down-and-dirty darkness that directors like Fincher and Kubrick excel at portraying in compelling ways. Nolan’s taste in music also adds to the sense of droning monotony; David Julyan and Hans Zimmer have done much better work (admittedly not in fifteen years as far as the latter is concerned, though that’s another topic).  The dreariness of both action and general atmosphere make many of Nolan’s films a chore to get through with subsequent viewings. And that’s relatively rare of films that I like the first time around.

I admit to harping on Nolan, but I wouldn’t be writing so much about him if I thought he was utterly without merit. He seems like a smart guy, and his concepts and ideas, if not truly innovative, (though what is—nothing new under the sun indeed) are certainly welcome in big-budget blockbusters. I find little wrong with The Prestige and especially Memento, but I do feel he could improve in the areas of action and emotional involvement—both heart and grit. The good news is that he did take some baby steps in terms of action from Batman Begins to The Dark Knight, so maybe he will learn to develop his skills instead of becoming complacent. Although I was looking forward to Interstellar a little more with Spielberg at the helm, (still a missed opportunity as far as the score goes—what we could have gotten with John Williams!) I am still eagerly anticipating it as another step in Nolan’s growth and evolution as a filmmaker.

Mantis Miscellany--Walt Disney World Part 6: Fantasmic and Conclusion

Originally Published May 16, 2013

Fantasmic

We capped off our day at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, and our vacation, with Fantasmic. (I know it has an exclamation point, but I’m going to omit it for easier typing and to avoid punctuation oddities). I love the dazzling original at Disneyland, but the Studios version is longer and newer, so we were curious to see how it compared. Here, Fantasmic gets its own devoted stadium, so you can actually sit as you wait for the show to begin. The path to the stadium from Sunset Boulevard is much longer than it looks on the park map. The stadium itself is partially covered by lighting equipment supported by poles that unfortunately lie right in the middle of the view from many seats. It seats more than 8,000, and it was mostly filled by the time the show started, though some empty sections remained on the far right. For the preshow, some over-enthusiastic cast members held an audience singing competition. They had the DJ play the beginning of a song (not all of which were Disney, though don’t ask me what they were specifically), and then one or the other side of the amphitheater would finish the phrase as loud as they could. Of course, the leader of each side would goad the other, but of course, it all ended up happy as they encouraged the whole audience to sing together by the end.

The stage itself is a large mountain with some thin ledges, but they’re only really used for the Pocahontas sequence. The show starts the same as the Disneyland version. Bu after the flower part, several costumed animals begin dancing on stage. There is no Kaa, and it is Rafiki, not King Louie, who leads the monkeys on the passing barges. Then the mist screens start up, and images of bubbles with scenes from a veritable cornucopia of Disney movies appear. This goes on for a while before it finally segues to the Jiminy and Monstro segment followed by Mickey getting sucked into the whirlpool.

But instead of Peter Pan’s ship, we get an interminable Pocahontas sequence. In fact, it’s longer than any single element of the show, based on a movie that is the very pinnacle of Disney animation. Forget Snow White, Pinocchio, Dumbo, Bambi, Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Lion King. Heck, forget Citizen Kane, The Godfather, The Shawshank Redemption, Psycho, and Jaws. The Mona Lisa, Michelangelo’s David, Shakespeare, Einstein, and Gandhi pale next to the might that is Pocahontas! All shall bow before its pure awesomeness and unsurpassable perfection! POCAHONTAS 4-EVER!

Anyway, the unremarkable sequence starts with Radcliffe, the most menacing cinematic villain of all time, proclaiming the mountain for King James. Then, Native Americans in boats appear and then there is a disjointed battle scene between the settlers and the Indians. John Smith is about to be killed when Grandmother Willow—yes, SHE CANNOT BE KILLED—interrupts, disregarding the conflict as a “terrible dream.” Is it finally over? Nope, there’s still more as “Colors of the Wind” plays on the mist screens.

At long last, the barges with the couples from Snow White, The Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast arrive, followed by the Queen/Witch scene. She calls the villains, but now there are much more than just Ursula, Chernabog, and Maleficent. We also get Cruella de Vil, Scar, Frollo , and Jafar. Why does Cruella want to go after Mickey? Does she want to turn his skin into a leather coat? And what about Frollo? Does he lust after Mickey and want to burn him as a witch if he can’t, erm, have him for his own?

After Jafar appears, he sends Mickey to the Cave of Wonders, and the mist screens show Mickey escaping the lava on a magic carpet. The live Mickey then encounters Jafar as a snake. Mickey then finds a lamp and rubs it, which turns Jafar into a genie. Now all-powerful, Jafar logically decides to withdraw, making way for Hades, who seems to have ADD with a series of disconnected and rather silly statements: “Hades rules! OK, I’m cool, I’m cool. So Mickey’s so noble. Oh, and you’ll love this one more thing.”

Chernabog appears on the mist screens as on Disneyland and then we get the Maleficent sequence, though the dragon is apparently older and not as advanced as the upgraded Disneyland one. For her death scene, after Mickey says, “You may think you’re so powerful. This is my dream!” he stalls around and Maleficent is considerate enough to accommodate as she watches Mickey laboriously create a wall of water. He then marches over to a sword that happens to be in a nearby rock, pulls it out, and then it shoots some sparks at the Maleficent dragon who suddenly realizes that she should have taken Mickey out while we was taking his time making the water wall and marching over to the sword.

Then we get the villain death scenes, three of which are hilarious. Not coincidentally, they are all new to this Disney World version. Cruella shouts, “Imbeciles!” thwarted out of getting her mouse-skin coat. Frollo says “Witchcraft!” and Hades goes, “Ooh! Eeh! Ow!” as if he’s getting bitten by mosquitos of the underworld. Needless to say, these scenes undermine the drama and intensity of the death scenes, though it’s possible that some parents thought that the Disneyland version was too intense and complained, and the Studios got this as a result.

After this, the finale is the same, with one difference: the Mark Twain Riverboat is replaced by a dinky steamboat with fewer characters and no spinning sparklers on the side. This is inexplicable; they built a whole new stadium just for this show, so why did they have to use such a small boat? The final pyrotechnics are the same as the upgraded Disneyland version, the show ending with the loud, bright mines.

I have to say that I like the Disneyland version more, despite the shorter running time. The pink elephants and Pinocchio sequences are more interesting than the long bubble sequence, where it’s hard to make out a lot of the movie scenes anyway. The Pocahontas scene, as you may have guessed, is an underwhelming sequence from an underwhelming movie, and made even worse by a comparison to the Peter Pan scene with the Columbia sailing ship. A dynamic and humorous scene is jettisoned here for a staid, plodding one that has a narrative cop-out (Grandmother Willow) to boot. And the addition of so many villains is like the old saying of too many cooks spoiling the broth. Some, like Cruella and Hades, are more humorous than menacing, though maybe that was the point. Scar is hardly a presence at all and Frollo, who is a great (and creepy) character in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, is laughably out of place here. And while I did harp a bit on Mickey taking his sweet time to kill Maleficent in this version, I do think the water wall is effective as an element of spectacle.

I want to make clear that these disappointing aspects are all in comparison with the Disneyland show, and are furthermore my own opinion. Fantasmic is still a sensational show with astonishing effects and majestic, powerful music. It is the best show I saw at Disney World, and I suspect very few people would walk away from it disappointed. To say that it is the epitome of visual spectacle may be an exaggeration, but few things I’ve seen have come close.

Conclusion

Disney World is a huge, overwhelming place, and I am aware that I still have lots more to see in the four major parks alone. I still found a variety of attractions to enjoy, from blockbusters like Expedition Everest, Kilimanjaro Safaris, Festival of the Lion King, Test Track, Mission: Space, Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, and The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror to hidden gems such as the Tomorrowland Transit Authority PeopleMover, Flights of Wonder, Living With the Land, Spaceship Earth (admittedly not so hidden), the manatees in The Living Seas, the train set in Germany, and the koi pond in Japan.

As far as food went, with the exception of Kona Café in the Polynesian Resort, all of the best food was at the quick-service restaurants (though this was probably because the good full-service restaurants in the parks were already booked). From the Flame Tree Barbecue in Animal Kingdom to Sunshine Seasons, Karamell-Küche, and Boulangerie Patisserie in Epcot, food at these counter-service eateries was better than I expected. Even the sandwiches from the Pop Century food court and the items from Magic Kingdom’s Columbia Harbor House weren’t bad.

I was surprised at how few E-ticket attractions were at each park. Maybe with four parks, Disney World can afford to spread its headliners out. But Disneyland and even California Adventure have more top-tier rides than any single Disney World park. For comparison:

Magic Kingdom: Space Mountain, Splash Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad (3)

Animal Kingdom: Expedition Everest, Kilimanjaro Safaris, Kali River Rapids, Dinosaur (4)

Epcot: Test Track, Mission: Space, Soarin’ (3)

Disney’s Hollywood Studios: Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, Star Tours, Toy Story Midway Mania (4)

California Adventure: The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, Soarin’ Over California, Toy Story Midway Mania, Grizzly River Run, California Screamin’, Radiator Springs Racers (6)

Disneyland: Space Mountain, Splash Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Star Tours, Matterhorn, Indiana Jones Adventure: Temple of the Forbidden Eye (6)

In other words, Disney World has two more headliner rides than Disneyland with twice the number of parks. Of course, there are other good attractions, but Disneyland in particular has a high number of attractions that the Disney World parks can’t match. Plus, in California you can walk from one park to the other in less than five minutes, so there’s definitely a larger concentration of attractions in a much smaller area in Anaheim.

That said, Disney World still has many things that Disneyland will probably never have, most notably Animal Kingdom and Epcot. The latter shows that it’s not all about the quantity of attractions. Epcot only has three headliners yet, as I’ve stated, it is the Florida park I enjoyed the most. It has a down-to-earth feeling that’s removed from the fantasy of Disneyland, yet is still engrossing and fresh.

Since I’ve been to Disneyland so much, I would, at present, be more excited by a trip to Disney World than Disneyland. The sense of novelty will probably take a few trips to wear off. The vast number of things to do at Disney World may be what appeals to many, but I suspect I will always like Disneyland more. One could argue about Disneyland’s originality, sense of history, merits of its individual attractions, and I would probably agree with them. One could also say that because I went to Disneyland first, I have a bias for it. But none of these arguments would influence the truth that Disneyland feels better to me. Of course it would come down to feeling for me—I’m a writer, not a mathematician. And, as is universally known, all writers are touchy-feely, wishy-washy wimps. Then again, I’ve always been interested in science and examining why I like what I like. It may be all due to personal bias, which would honestly be disappointing. But these posts, written for myself more than anyone, are an attempt to explore the differences between the two resorts and come to some kind of conclusion.

Anyway, that’s way more words on a theme park than is necessary. Disney World was a great place, though very strange and almost alien to this Disneylander. But this strangeness is intriguing, and I would be eager to discover more about this wonderful destination.

Mantis Miscellany--Walt Disney World Part 5: Disney's Hollywood Studios

Originally Published May 15, 2013

We spent our last full day at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, though we left partway through to have brunch at Epcot’s France pavilion via a very slow boat ride that stopped three times along the way (at the Swan/Dolphin hotels, Yacht and Beach Club Resort, and BoardWalk Resort before reaching a special entrance to Epcot in World Showcase between France and the United Kingdom). Many attractions at the Studios are shows, and given the way they are timed, it is difficult to see them all without either waiting around or running from place to place.

The Studios (which was called Disney-MGM Studios until recently) is a slightly disorganized park that resembles the studio section of California Adventure—in fact, the turnstiles at the entrance to the parks look almost identical. It used to be a working studio, mainly for obscure TV movies and shows, though the interior of Isla de Muerta from the first Pirates of the Caribbean was shot on a soundstage here. Disney also used to have an animation studio here that made the great films Mulan and Lilo & Stitch, as well as the mediocre Brother Bear. The Magic of Disney Animation used to tour the studio with views of the animators at work, but now it’s apparently just like the version at California Adventure (minus Turtle Talk With Crush, which is at Epcot).

The Studios has several attractions that are duplicated at the California parks and which we did not visit, including Toy Story Mania (though it has a niftier indoor queue), Star Tours (with an AT-AT outside and six simulators instead of Disneyland’s four), Muppet-Vision 3D (sorry, I don’t know how to make that star symbol without changing fonts), Disney Junior—Live on Stage (though we haven’t seen it at California Adventure either), and Walt Disney: One Man’s Dream. Attractions we didn’t get to were the walk-through Legend of Jack Sparrow, The American Idol Experience, Lights Motor Action Stunt Show (which only had two showings that day), and the Voyage of the Little Mermaid show.

We got to the park early and joined the line to get in. Unlike at the other parks, Disney decided to open the whole park about 20 minutes before the official opening at 9. We joined the throng, and were just about the only ones to turn right on Sunset Boulevard as everyone else rushed to Toy Story Midway Mania. At the end of the boulevard are four attractions: Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, Fantasmic, and Beauty and the Beast Live on Stage.

We turned left to Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, which features a giant electric guitar on the outside of the ride building. There was no line, and we walked through the queue, which is the headquarters of the fictional G-Force record label, with musical memorabilia on display. The preshow room looks into a recording studio, where we see Aerosmith in the mixing booth. They’re late for their concert, and as their manager rushes them along, the band insists that we go along with them. They order stretch limos just for us. Still indoors, we emerge into a Hollywood alley at night, complete with chain link fence and graffiti-covered walls. This is the loading area for this indoor roller coaster; the train “limo” is several cars long.

The trains turn and stop at the entrance to a tunnel, with a signboard above displaying traffic information. The sounds of Aerosmith come on the onboard speakers, the DJ counts down, and the coaster launches from 0 to 60 miles per hour in 2.8 seconds (by contrast, California Screamin’ goes from 0 to 55 MPH in 5 seconds). The coaster immediately goes straight up the back wall and turns upside down at the top, and then loops upside down again. All this is in the dark, by the way. The coaster then speeds past and through black-lit icons of Los Angeles, including freeway signs, the Hollywood sign, and Randy’s Donuts. Midway through, there is another corkscrew, for a total of three inversions. All this is set to an Aerosmith song. At the exit, a screen shows the aftermath of Aerosmith’s concert. Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster is certainly the wildest coaster at Disney World, and also wilder then California Screamin’ (though nowhere near as long). The double inversion right after the launch is especially spectacular.

Then it was on to the magnificent Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, which stands several stories (figuratively) above California Adventure’s version. There was still no wait, and the outside queue winds through the gardens and walking paths of the hotel before entering the lobby. The lobby and preshow in the library with Rod Serling are essentially the same as in California. The boiler room is much smaller and only one story, with four elevator doors compared to the three doors each on two levels in California. The elevator door opens right into the car, unlike in California where you go through two doors.

The ride ascends without moving back and the doors open to the corridor scene (no mirror scene). The ghosts disappear and the corridor fades into the star field, and a window at the end of the corridor moves toward the car before collapsing. The doors close and the elevator ascends to the Fifth Dimension scene. This is a compelling ride element sadly missing from the West Coast version. Several props, such as a ticking clock, eyeball, and the ghosts from the preshow can be seen behind glass before the room darkens. The elevator then moves out and forward into the room, past the props. This description doesn’t get across how bizarre and almost ethereal this segment of the ride is. The car approaches another star field and a bright line that extends upward and downward before splitting to reveal a pair of doors. The car travels through and pauses.

There is a moment of silence and suspense before the drops begin. Unlike in California, where the drops are the same every time, the faster-than-gravity drops are randomized so the sequence is different with each ride. Every time you go to the top, the doors open to give a view of the park outside. Once the drops are over, you see a screen with images of a spiral and other items from the Twilight Zone TV introduction. The cars then back away from the screen and turn to arrive at the unloading area, which is in a different location from the loading area.

The mechanics of the ride are quite interesting. In California, there are three shafts with two cars each; as one car loads, the other car is going through the ride (as you can hear). In Florida, the cars start out in four shafts named Alpha (though I know the official spelling is Alfa), Bravo, Charlie, and Delta. Each car is actually ensconced in an outer lift vehicle that moves up the shaft. In the Fifth Dimension scene, the cars exit the outer lift vehicle and move forward. The cars from Alpha and Bravo go to the Echo drop shaft, while cars from Charlie and Delta go to the Foxtrot drop shaft. Upon entering the Fifth Dimension scene, if you look down you can actually see the guide track in front of you and another to the right or left (depending on what shaft you’re in); the two merge together further ahead. The cars lock into another lift vehicle in the Echo and Foxtrot drop shafts that performs the high-speed lifts and drops. (See towerofterror.org for more behind-the-scenes info.)

The Florida version of the Tower of Terror has been billed by some as the best theme park attraction on the planet, and it’s not hard to see why. The immersive theming, otherworldly Fifth Dimension scene, and the randomly generated thrills give it a higher re-visit value than the California version. The drop sequence in the latter version starts suddenly and takes one by surprise the first time, though one can expect it coming on subsequent rides. In Disney World, one knows that the drops are coming as the ride stops in darkness and the suspense builds…the question is just exactly when they will start. This is the true version of the Tower of Terror (the versions at the other Disney parks are based on the California version) and one of the best rides I’ve been on.

Back at the central plaza of the park is The Great Movie Ride, a 20 minute long, extremely elaborate dark ride past huge sets recreating scenes from classic films. The ride building is in a façade of Grauman’s Chinese Theater. The line goes through a replica of the theater’s lobby into a large room showing trailers from various films. Then it’s into the ride vehicles themselves, large two-car conveyances led by a live tour guide. The train passes under a theater marquee and past scenes from Footlight Parade, Singin’ in the Rain, and the chimney sequence from Mary Poppins. In a gangster scene inspired by The Public Enemy, the train stops at a traffic light. A shootout begins as a car crashes through a wall. A live gangster (a woman when we went) kidnaps the tour guide and hijacks the train. Then there is a Western scene with Clint Eastwood and John Wayne. The train enters the spaceship Nostromo and passes by Sigourney Weaver. The alien attacks from the ceiling for guests in the first car and bursts from the right for guests in the second car. The Well of Souls from Raiders of the Lost Ark is next, as we see Indy and Sallah struggle to lift the Ark of the Covenant among hundreds of snakes.

A temple with a large jewel dominates the next room. The gangster leaves the train and approaches the jewel, but the temple guardian, his back towards us, warns the gangster that the jewel is sacred. The gangster ignores the guardian and grabs the jewel. There is a puff of smoke, to conceal the gangster going down a hidden lift to be replaced by skeletal remains (sorry to ruin the illusion). The guardian is, predictably, the original tour guide, who takes charge of the train again. It passes through a mummy chamber and Tarzan swinging by on a vine to the Casablanca farewell scene at the airport between Bogart and Bergman. Next is a projection of the Sorcerer’s Apprentice segment from Fantasia.

The final scene is from The Wizard of Oz. Munchkins welcome Dorothy before the Wicked Witch of the West rises out of the ground to harass us. We then pass by Dorothy and friends to a theater showing a montage of films, including Snow White, The Godfather, Star Wars, Terminator, Taxi Driver, North by Northwest, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Forrest Gump, and Citizen Kane. The trains then return to the loading station. This is an entertaining ride with intricate sets featuring films that people my age and younger may not be aware of (I’ve seen most of the films featured except for Footlight Parade, The Public Enemy, and the Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan).

Our sojourn to Epcot took a while—again, it takes a painfully long time to commute from park to park. When we returned, we decided to see Indiana Jones—Epic Stunt Spectacular. I’m a big fan of the Indy movies, especially the odd numbered ones, so this show was the first priority for me among those offered at the Studios. The preshow involves selection of stunt volunteers from the audience. With one exception, they act more as extras in crowd scenes, though the casting director has them do things like scream and stand on one foot. The actual 30-minute show begins with Indy making his way through a recreation of the idol temple from the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark. He dodges spikes that pop up from the ground, climbs out of a collapsing floor, and runs away from the infamous giant boulder. At this point, he disappears, and the “director” calls “Cut” and asks if Indy is okay. We’re introduced to the crew and stunt team as Indy emerges and the temple set is moved away to reveal a Cairo marketplace set. After an interlude with the audience volunteers, there is another stunt sequence, with Indy and Marion evading swordsmen as they fight their way up and across the building rooftops. Gunfire and falls from great heights abound.

After another clever interlude involving Marion and one of the audience members demonstrating fighting techniques, there is the final set piece. An actual plane appears from backstage, and Indy and Marion fight around it as “Nazis” shoot machine guns and fuel-laden trucks drive by. The scene and the show end with a fiery finale and explosions (though the airplane itself does not explode; if you have several shows every day of the year, you don’t want to be buying a new plane for each one). The Indy show is action-packed with a few genuine surprises, though there are less behind-the-scenes explanations that I’d expected. But I’d definitely see it again.

Back on Sunset Boulevard is the Beauty and the Beast show that, like Indy, takes place in a covered amphitheater. At half an hour, it glosses over some aspects of the story. Lefou and Maurice are entirely absent. After a mash-up of the songs “Belle” and “Gaston,” the narrator intones, “After a series of events, Belle found herself at a mysterious castle.” And after Gaston stabs the Beast, he walks offstage, never to be seen again. Someone not familiar with the movie may wonder how it got nominated for Best Picture Oscar (I certainly think it deserved the nomination). It should be noted that unlike in the Broadway show, the enchanted objects are in costumes that cover their whole bodies and thus their characters’ voices are prerecorded. But it’s still a pleasant enough show and can’t be accused of dragging like Finding Nemo: The Musical (it has the opposite problem). But again, it’s nowhere close to Aladdin: A Musical Spectacular.

Dinner was at the ‘50s Prime Time Café, which, shockingly, had no line (Mama Melrose’s Ristorante Italiano was not accepting walk-ins, and rides like Toy Story Mania and Tower of Terror had lines of over an hour at that point). The setting is a 1950s home dining room, with TVs showing vintage clips of period sitcoms and commercials (as a result, I think I have the theme to “I Married Joan” permanently stuck in my head). The waitress, or “Aunt” as she insisted on being called, informed us of the rules: No elbows on the table and finish your vegetables. Oh, and you have to pile up your plates when you’re done eating. It’s fun if you’re in the right mood, but I can see how it could be exasperating if you’re tired and just want to eat. I had the sampler, which included some of the featured homey fare: fried chicken, pot roast, and meatloaf. Surprisingly, the meat loaf was the best, though the fried chicken wasn’t bad. I’ve definitely had better pot roast, including at the Plaza Inn at Disneyland. It’s a fine restaurant for comfort food, though the atmosphere and theme are bigger draws than the actual fare.

Our wait for the Studio Backlot Tour was probably the longest we waited for a non-show attraction at Disney World not counting breakdowns, though at about 15 minutes, it was still quite tolerable. There are several lines, and a mass number of guests are let in every 15-20 minutes. We had in fact waited for this before Indy, but we were cut off right before we got into the next area, and would have missed the show had we waited another 15-20 minutes in addition to the 30-minute tour itself.

The monitors in the queue area show a rather dated and brief behind-the-scenes look at Pearl Harbor, a film that proves that Ben Affleck is really suited for directing and not acting.  Michael Bay drones in a monotone voice about the wonderful special effects he used in the film without really giving any specifics. And given that the film is Pearl Harbor, nobody would be interested in the specifics anyway.

We were let in to the next area just in front of the cut-off this time. In this next segment, we watch as technicians show off a special effects tank. A small wheelhouse is drenched with water, and flames and mortars go off in the surrounding water. The tour then moves through a prop warehouse to the boarding area for the tram.

The tram drives through the rather empty backlot area. There are barely any sets, though you do get a good look at the Earful Tower, the studio’s requisite water tower. The tram passes through the costume and manufacturing buildings, where you can see personnel working on various costumes and props. Or, if you go fairly late in the day like we did, you can see empty rooms. The tram then goes through a small boneyard, with vehicles like the motorcycle from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Walt Disney’s private jet. You can also see some of the prep areas for the Lights Motors Action Stunt Show as well as a portion of the stage itself.

The tour climaxes with Catastrophe Canyon. On the left side of the tram, you can see a canyon, pipes, and a fuel truck. Shaker tables under the tram simulate an earthquake. The fuel truck explodes, and flames and fireballs erupt from various pipes and tanks. A huge flash flood deluges the canyon, and more water flows down from above the tram. After, the tram drives by the backside of the canyon to reveal the mechanisms and support structure of the set. The tram goes past the boneyard and stunt show area again before returning to the loading station. The exit is a walkthrough of a museum that, at the time, featured posters and props from some of AFI’s 100 greatest films of all time. As there isn’t much production going on at the studio, the only interesting part is Catastrophe Canyon. The tour at Universal Studios Hollywood is much more entertaining and informative, though none of its ride-like elements are quite as spectacular as Catastrophe Canyon.

We didn’t get to do as much at the Studios as Epcot or Animal Kingdom, yet at the same time, I don’t feel like we missed that much. Just the Lights Motors Action Stunt Show and Voyage of the Little Mermaid. The shows were entertaining and though there were only a few rides, most of them were top notch (like at Animal Kingdom). The Tower of Terror was a special favorite of mine, and it’s too bad that we only got around to riding it once. Disney’s Hollywood Studios is a nice park, and while it doesn’t have the variety of Epcot or the novelty of Animal Kingdom, it still has many attractions that are among the best that Disney, or anyone, has done.

Note: We did see Fantasmic at the end of our day at the Studios, but I have a lot to write on that, and so I am including it in the next (and final) post.

Next: Fantasmic and Conclusion