The Golden Compass has been officially dubbed a box office bomb, which is odd considering that it's infinitely better than most of crap that ends up raking in the opening weekend dough. Perhaps it is because of people who are all butt hurt about what they think is the content of the film and are trying to save the children even though they haven't even bothered to watch the movie. Contrary to the title of the post, there's no actual deicide in this installment of what's supposed to be a triology but might not be a triology on account of the low box office numbers. And, even if deicide did occur, it's art and, as such, should foster discussion not dictate a way of thought.

Below, I have listed some (hopefully) compelling reasons to see The Golden Compass:

• The chosen one is a feisty, rebellious girl who is insulted when a friend refers to her as a "lady." She reminds of Pippi Longstocking and various anime heroines, which is something sorely lacking in big budget adventure films. (Apparently, willful young protagonists are bad for the kids too.)
• Arresting visuals.
• Nicole Kidman makes a very good villain (think of her in To Die For) and the Myrna Loy-styled costumes were a nice touch.
• Sam Elliot's moustache and drawl.
• A drunk polar bear.
• Fighting polar bears.
• Kate Bush provides the closing theme.

I'll stop right here because I don't want to give away anything. Go see the movie.

* Title credited to Chuckus Ruckus.

Labels: Movies

Tonight through Saturday the New Beverly is hosting a double-feature of two movies that have inspired more goth Halloween costumes than The Hunger ever did.

Labyrinth
Wed, Thurs, Fri 7: 30 P.M., Sat. 3:35 P.M. & 7:30 P.M.

Legend
Wed. Thurs., Fri. 9:50 P.M., Sat. 5:35 P.M. & 9:50 P.M.

(Thanks to my friend Abbie for posting the times on MySpace.)

And here is some "1986 David Bowie from the movie Labyrinth" for you.

Labels: David Bowie, Movies, Oh My Goth

Promotional still from Daft Punk's Electroma.

A few days ago, I picked up the latest issue of Paper solely because Daft Punk was on the cover. Today, I finally got around to reading the interview. In the first sentence of the article, the writer gave away the ending of Daft Punk's Electroma. Given the fact that I had been planning on going to see the movie at midnight at the Nuart for weeks as some kind of self-served consolation prize for managing to miss every opportunity to see Daft Punk live, I was pissed. I even spent half a second wondering if I should skip the movie on account of the fact that I now knew the ending. But, I have been a Daft Punk fan ever since that moment in 1997, before the video for "Da Funk" was released, when a package filled with copies of Homework arrived at KXLU and I was kindly given permission to keep the double-vinyl. And so, I went to see Daft Punk's Electroma with the Usual Suspects.

This was the second of two totally sold-out midnight screenings of Daft Punk's Electroma at the Nuart. According to the event's host, this was an unusual feat for a music-related film. Given Daft Punk's current popularity, though, it would be safe to assume that the duo could fart in an elevator, call it art and there would still be lines turning around the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard. Daft Punk's Electroma, though, is not a fart in an elevator. It is a stunning film, best watched when you're ready to let your mind purge itself of any tendency to analyze things.

Because of the spoiler episode, I don't want to attempt to review the film. Instead, I will pose the question that plagued me throughout the duration of the evening.

What is it with Europeans and the desert? It seems like there is some sort of compulsive need to romanticize the barren lands east of Riverside (see also: UNKLE's War Stories and the myriad bands I have interviewed who have some sort of Best of America moment that involves Joshua Tree). I don't get it at all. I hear the word desert and think sweat, sunburn, black snot and that Denny's off the 10 where our tweaked-out waitress was sporting a hickey necklace. I want to understand, though, so feel free to leave a comment.

Labels: Daft Punk, Movies

It's a real disease. Almost everyone I know who went to Coachella spent last week sick. Me too.

Fortunately, I managed to purge illness from my system in time to see Sleepwalking Through the Mekong, which Carlos and both recommend, at the Silver Lake Film Festival.

This is the trailer:



And now I'm well enough to hit up Monday Night Social today.

As for Coachella, my stories regarding the event will be ready for public consumption this week. So I will just tell you that I think I accidentally met Tony Wilson, but I'm still not sure.

Labels: Coachella, Movies

Furban is my brother's word. It means "faux urban." He came up with it last night when we were walking from the AMC 6 to the AMC 16 in Burbank. We passed a sign that read something like Mall Village and we started talking about how it was like the whole of Burbank, or at least this portion off the 5, was consumed by the mall. Then he started to say something about how it's made to look like it's urban, but no self-respecting urban center would boast two AMC megatheaters separate only by a few parking structures and a Macaroni Grill.

We were in Burbank to see a special screening of 300, which was well worth the hour wait in line and the packed theater that forced us to sit in the front row.

People, go see this movie.

I haven't been to the movies in about a year, mostly because I can't handle high prices and low quality. This was well worth my return to the stadium theater.

Since the movie isn't out yet, I don't want to post any potential spoilers. However, if you read the graphic novel or studied the Battle of Thermopylae, then you will know what to expect. I will say, however, that the art direction was flawless. Every scene looked like a painting.

But 300 is more than just a beautiful movie. I left the theater with thoughts of war, death and freedom running through my head. What's worth your life? When is it best to go against the prevalent opinion? What has to happen for people to take a stand?

I don't have answers. Only questions. Just go see the movie and keep yourself up thought for a few nights.

Labels: Movies, Out on the Town