Green for Lime, Get It?

I can't pass judgment on the video transfer's quality until I get it in my hands, but I'll say right off that this "artwork" is hideous. If they picked green as the key color because Harry's last name is Lime, then they should also pack in a recipe for a Vodka Gimlet and a bag of limes. That's how little sense this makes. Ran subtitles were shit, the Ladykillers transfer was drenched in pink, and Contempt had some glaring soft spots. If there were something stellar to point to as an act of good faith, boy would I.

Analysis and Metrics

I really dislike the modern form of critical discourse about movies. Based on the hive mind on the internet, it seems that to some, if you love this film, you're a lowly, materialistic child in an adult's body. Hating it means you're an incorrigible, heartless idiot. No one is allowed to come to a moderate conclusion that eschews overflowing hyperbole geysers in this age of metric-based critical opinion. The masses demonstrably lean toward the "love it" end of things, as do I. I feel that the best compliment I can give is that a movie is among my favorites of a given year, but by no means does that require me to name every movie I "liked" as one of the best I've seen that year.

I hate that there are people whose standards of film criticism seem to enforce some sort of Vulcan, emotionless, and impersonal tone to reviews. I think that's utter bullshit. It's also bullshit that using a word like "bullshit" is considered "unbecoming".

A Tale of Two Fan Favorites

Flash Gordon is alive and full of Digital Noise Reduction Botoxification. The colors are bright, and the resolution boosted, but the new Flash Gordon Blu-ray lacks that celluloid look even more so than the recent Spartacus burn job. I really wish that things weren't so hot and cold when it comes to Universal's Blu transfers of late.

On the other hand, Darkman looks pretty good...in places. It honestly looks like each reel is from a different print. One reel is super-dirty and grainy, while another is soft. Honestly, it's more likely due to the quality of the original elements than scrubbing. I say this because the grain is still there, and am assuming therefore that the blatant DNR of Flash Gordon is not at fault. I wouldn't shell out for either one. Two for $10 maybe, but full price? No way.

Showgirls Quinceanera

Last week's Showgirls 15th Anniversary Blu-ray features one of the most ingeniously smutty disc art concepts I've ever seen. I gave the opening fifteen minutes or so a quick spin, and the transfer looks like it's up to par, for all of you Nomi Malone fans. I love that this movie has such a dedicated following while at the same time featuring a sex scene that looks more like the female lead is having a seizure than a good time.

Have disc spindles ever doubled as nipples before? Dare I rate this a "game-changer"?

The only added extra compared to previous releases is a bit on the pole-dancing exercise craze that's sweeping trendy gyms.

Appropriate Headline Unavailable

So, I've been MIA for a few days.

I've never been more uneasy and terrified in my entire life. In taking a quick inventory of times when I've felt doomed and helpless, including when my father had a stroke 18 months ago, I realize that I've also never felt this bleak.

They found a growth that measures 3-4" in diameter inside my younger brother's chest, in addition to some other complications. He goes in for examination and (it's expected) a biopsy later this week. He's 24, autistic, and lives with my parents. He's overweight thanks to a lifetime of medications that do all sorts of bizarre things to your glands and hormones. He's one of the most genuinely nice and funny people you'll ever meet. I lost a very dear friend to brain cancer in early 2009. I'd like to think that the only benefit from that is I have acquired some sort of superhuman emotional stamina, but I know that isn't the case.

I already put this info out on Twitter, and even though I'm not begging for it or anything, the sympathy has helped. For those who wonder aloud to me "how can you associate yourself with Jeffrey Wells?", you probably wouldn't believe that he's actually provided some of the best comfort out of any of my friends who know.

I've spent most of the last week figuring out how to financially miss as many days of work as I will soon, regardless of diagnosis. For those who don't already know, I don't make my living by writing for Hollywood Elsewhere.

That said, I don't plan on altogether dropping off the map, but posting will be erratic at best. The Ozu series will get caught up, I'm going to be on The CriterionCast as a guest this week, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm just asking for a little understanding. Thanks in advance.

Cry for the Owls

The Cry of the Owl is a good example of where the DTV stigma comes from. A lousy, progressively worsening "thriller" based on a novel by a writing legend (Patricia Highsmith). Paddy Considine and Julia Stiles are plenty entertaining, just not in this movie.

A soon-to-be-divorced guy (Considine) moves to a new area, where he stumbles into stalking/peeking in on a woman who lives out in the woods (Stiles). He doesn't watch her get naked or anything, just preparing food and so on. The story doesn't so much twist regarding who is hunting and being hunted, but swerves a few times. I dug the angle of questioning who was being stalked (and consequently, who was doing the stalking), but it all just came out uneven and unnatural.