On Why I Love Movies

“I don’t need no superstar 

‘Cause I accept you as you are

You won’t be denied

‘Cause I’m satisfied

With the love that you can inspire

You don’t have to be a star, baby

To be in my show”

~”You Don’t Have To Be a Star (To Be in My Show)” by James Dean & John Glover

From the Marilyn McCoo & Billy Davis, Jnr album I Hope We Get to Love in Time, 1976

It all started with a scathing Internet article written by a blogger named Zack Carlson.  It was Mr Carlson's premise that the use of computer generated effects is the bane of modern cinema.  There's a degree of merit in his arguments.  In a follow-up article, he instigated fans of cinema to "foam" and "gnash" at why they hate movies, even though in his discussion he manages to find virtue in those things he claims to despise.  This was countered by another writer on the same website using the handle Hulk.  Hulk, who bizarrely insists on maintain his chosen avatar's voice by referring to himself in the third person and yelling in all caps, discussed what he loved about the movies (click here to read it).  Eric 'Quint' Vespe from aintitcoolnews.com took Hulk's baton and ran with it, openly aping his style, and challenging movie lovers everywhere to continue what he describes as a "geek chain letter" (Quint's article can be found here).  Hulk's article and Quint's continuation of the same thought has inspired me, as a lover of cinema, to follow their lead.  So with a tip of the hat to Hulk and Quint, I will add my link to the chain.  Why do I love the movies?

I love the movies...

Because when Legolas kills an oliphaunt, it only counts as one.

Because those aren't two pillows!

Because to this day, in every student protest you'll find someone carrying a 'Save Ferris' placard.

Because the Stonehenge monument at the back of the stage really could have been crushed by a dwarf.

Because of the awesome nobility and dignity Gregory Peck brings to Atticus Finch.

Because when this baby reaches eighty-eight miles per hour... you're going to see some serious shit.

Because no matter how many times I see the montage of Carl and Ellie's life together it brings me to tears.  Every last time.

Because what we do in life echoes in eternity.

Because of when Arcee and Springer take the time to teach Daniel how to use his father's old exo-suit.

Because they're going to need a bigger boat.

Because of the way Jack Sparrow runs.

Because of the sheer heart-in-your-mouth shock of Kane's death during breakfast.

Because of how Holmes sums up his opponent's weaknesses and discerns every step of his downfall in mere moments before executing everything exactly as he foresaw it.

Because of Sharlto Copley.

Because of Michelle Pfeifer's meow.

Because Jessica's not bad, she's just drawn that way.  And because she loves her husband because he makes her laugh.

Because of Gollum and Sméagol's conversation.

Because fish are friends, not food.

Because of 23-19! 23-19!

Because when Leia tells Han she loves him, he replies "I know".

Because of the perfect use of an unlikely remix of In the Hall of the Mountain King during, of all things, a rowing race.

Because I can't decide if Inception is unfolding in eight layers of reality at the same time, or only seven.  And because I wish so desperately that the film went for just another three seconds just so I can see if the spinning top falls over.

Because sometimes you need to run before you can walk.

Because of how Gene Wilder sings Pure Imagination.

Because of how Indy shoots the guy with the sword.

Because Vincent never saved anything for the swim back.

Because you can't stop the signal.

Because Rusty thinks they're going to need eleven.

Because of every James Bond theme song.  Except the Madonna one.

Because the kids used to call him Mr Glass.

Because they're on a mission from God.

Because of Sam's unswerving devotion to Frodo.

Because of Roy Batty's beautiful and tragic monologue:  "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain. Time to die".  And then he very quietly does.

Because you wouldn't like him when he's... hungry?

Because Dr Venkman got slimed.

Because Henry Snr slaps his son for blasphemy.

Because of the way Phil wakes up to Sonny and Cher singing I Got You Babe... again and again and again and again and again and...

Because of the way Sam Gerard wants is a hard-target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in a six-mile radius.

Because Number Five laughs at the joke about the Priest, the Minister and the Rabbi.

Because of Sam Rockwell.

Because of the brilliant moment when Neo realises his potential and sees the code in the Matrix for the first time.

Because if Superman's got Lois, who's got Superman?

Because of John Rambo's devastating monologue at the end of First Blood, delivered by Sylvester Stallone with sensitivity and pathos.

Because of the slow-motion shoot-out on the railway station stairs.

Because of the Joker's disappearing pencil magic trick.

Because of Woody's "YOU! ARE! A! TOY!!" rant at Buzz.

Because of the way all the toys join hands on the way into the furnace.

Because of the moment Dave Kujan deduces who Keyser Söze really is.

Because of Tyler Durden's distorted vision of the future, hauntingly explained as the picture fades in and out of black.

Because of the moment of complete anguish when Bond's heart irretrievably breaks as Vesper drowns.

Because of the way the men in the queue at the employment offIce slowly start dancing to Donna Summer's Hot Stuff.

Because of the moment when Optimus declares "Today, in the name of freedom, we take the battle to them".  And almost everything after that moment.

Because of Gandalf's slow smile when Aragorn asks him "What does your heart tell you?".

Because of Helen Parr's parenting.  And because of how the Parr family reminded us to celebrate what is truly special, and not just the mediocre.

Because The Shoveller and his teammates have a date with destiny... and it looks like she ordered the lobster.

Because Andy Dufresne crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side.

Because of every single solitary line in The Princess Bride, every last one of them eminently quotable.

Because of Heath Ledger's extraordinarily nuanced performance in his penultimate movie appearance.

Because Josh Pence's performance in The Social Network is one of the best you'll never see.

Because you should never, ever feed your Mogwai after midnight.

That's only some of the many, many reasons why I love cinema. I'm aware that some of my reasons have been similarly expressed by Hulk and Quint before me, but isn't that one of the great things about movies?  Even though what you like and what I like may differ in places, there's great beauty in shared passions, a joy you feel when something that jazzes you also jazzes others.  You've read my reasons.  You may share some with me.  No doubt you have many more of your very own.  If you love movies, why not consider making a contribution to the geek chain letter yourself?

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On Sports That Aren't

“It’s more than a game, more than a game

All the fortune and fame, it’s more than a game”

~ ‘More Than a Game’, by Darren Sanicki & John Albert

performed by Chris Doheny as the theme song to The Footy Show (AFL), 1994

In the last On Writing Blog I wrote about the difference between a sport and a game.  To my mind, any contest where overweight and/or middle aged individuals can be competitive at the elite level is not a sport, it is a game.  Sports include football (of almost any variety), rugby (ditto), tennis, cricket, many Olympic sports, that sort of thing.  Games include Monopoly, Scrabble, chess, tiddlywinks, golf, and the like.

Golf, anecdotally described by Mark Twain as "a good walk ruined", is very much a game.  Many players have supreme strength and fitness, I grant you.  Professional golfers are frequently dedicated to improving their skills and can certainly be considered elite athletes.  And then there are blokes like John Daly.  John Daly is a hard-living chain smoker who drinks like a fish and has a girth that would bring a Biggest Loser contestant to tears.  I likewise point you towards Jack Nicklaus, who played his last major tournament at the age of forty-six, after which he joined the senior’s tour.  Examples such as these gents go a fair way to proving that golf well and truly sits within the realm of a game rather than a sport.

Other similar games-not-sports are darts and pool/billiards.  Tremendous skill involved, for sure, but as long as you're pretty good at geometry and basic physics, you're already half way there.  Darts, much like golf, can lend itself to those with physiques on the rotund side as an activity of choice.  In addition, you can actually actively participate in darts while holding (and not spilling!) your beer.  While we're on that subject, what kind of game has participants flinging sharp objects around indoors, and not just any old indoors, but the kind of indoors where alcoholic beverages are often a fixture?  When does that particular idea start getting clever?

Another activity that is in serious need of a shift from the sports section of the newspaper is horse racing, for several reasons.  Firstly, it would cease to exist entirely if the gambling component was to stop - that is to say, horse racing is unable to sustain itself on its own merits.  Secondly, there are two primary human competitors in horse racing: trainers and jockeys.  It can be confidently argued that it takes some serious skill and discipline to ride a race horse, but let's face it, the horse is still working much harder than the rider.  Black Caviar would still be winning races even if it were me in the saddle.  That leaves us with the trainers, of which there would be one less if whichever geriatrician who is keeping Bart Cummings alive was slightly less skilled.  On balance, therefore, horse racing fails the sport/game test.  Thirdly, the largest proportion of the live Spring Racing Carnival audience are overdressed Kath and Kim wannabes who care far more about celebrity spotting, swilling bubbly and drunkenly disposing of their dignity than admiring horse flesh.  This audience does nothing to promote the activity as a worthwhile and substantial pursuit.

Anything where shooting a gun is an element is not a sport, because putting guns in the hands of most civilians is just usually an idiotic excercise.  I would suggest this is the case regardless of whether you're firing the weapon at an inanimate object or not, but let's run hunting under the microscope a bit shall we?

Have you ever seen those car stickers that read "I hunt and I vote"?  They are second only to those mind-numbing "My Family" stickers on my list of dumb things to display on your car (here's a thought: who even remotely cares about the members of your family while one is stuck in traffic and forced to stare at your car's back window?). Let's get one thing straight: the fact that you hunt does not make your vote any more valuable than anyone else's, rendering your moronic little sticker as witless as the act of hunting animals for 'sport'.

Let me explain.  There's a comic book story I love*, in which a character is being mentored at gardening by an older man in her father's employ.  As it turns out, the man was an assassin in a civilian resistance during World War Two.  When the young girl accidentally kills a sapling, the old gardener is distraught.  She asks him why, since he has no issue killing weeds, he would be so upset over one small tree?

"It is a living thing and it is in our care," he says.  "We kill the weeds, but we are careful not to take any pleasure in it."

Hunting is bloodthirsty and barbaric.  I can appreciate the need to kill for food and I understand the need to cull animals that become pests and a hazard to ecosystems.  I have experienced firsthand the need to euthanise animals to ease their suffering.  We kill, but ought to take great care not to enjoy it.  The mindless slaughter of animals for entertainment is not in any way, shape or form a sport.  Not only does it fail the sport verses game test, but it's ridiculously one-sided.  First camouflage and arm the animals and then we can talk.

Fishing?  Not a sport, more of a diversion and an excuse to not clean out the garage, or perhaps the means by which one acquires the perfect complement to hot fried chips.  Big game fishing?  Certainly it takes a great deal of knowledge and skill, but fails the sport verses game test once again.  And, as with hunting, it's got barbarism written all over it.

Novelist George Orwell is quoted to have said: “Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence. In other words, it is war minus the shooting”. I beg to differ.  Sport can be taken too seriously, to be sure.  However, sport, real and genuine sport, can also be the thrilling pursuit of physical and mental excellence, the search for outstanding human achievement, where men and women look to find their measure and often uncover the extraordinary.  Whether you win or lose, first or last, the achievement is not just in the result, but in the act of competition.  As such, sport is far too important a pursuit to be lumped in with the silly, the pointless, the simple and the cruel.

* The story is found in Wolverine, Volume 1, No. 102, written by Larry Hama, published by Marvel Comics in June 1996.

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