Cinema Squeeze

Kite: A Novel in Earth Orbit

2009-10-25T12:03:00.003-04:00

Graze some pages and from Kite. It's a novel. Hard sci-fi with heart. Careful, don't spill any virtual coffee on the sample pages there or, y'know, get bearclaw crumbs down in the page gutter where you try to get them and only push them deeper down. Enjoy!

Meet the Fockers

2005-10-03T19:08:00.000-04:00

Lordy, hugs left and right, yes yes, but the key ones were between Dustin Hoffman and Robert Deniro, and they included a bonus kiss. It was actually part of the plot. The "El Stiffo" Deniro, the only really funny character in this extra spotty comedy, also had the only character arc to speak of. Of course it was locked in and predictable, wasn't it? He and the lovely Blythe Danner just had to come around to the free-love way of things, didn't they? It WAS, after all set up as the only arc possible. Of course the lefty do-it-if-it- feels-good, hippy dippy in-laws had no learning to do, unh uh.

We forced ourselves to watch this one, because we kind of liked the first one. It did well financially too so why they felt like they had to cast Hoffman and Barbra Streisand in the sequel is beyond us. But maybe it wasn't the filmmakers' idea. We sense that D & B or their agents glommed onto the project as career revival vehicles. There was just plain too much of them. Can't Hoffman, who has done so much great work, enjoy a dignified semi-retirement? Is the money for this and his horrible role in I Heart Huckabees really worth the trashing of his legacy? And, of course we could have done without -- in fact, civilization itself could have done without -- the gratuitous and seemingly-contractual close-ups of the gargoylian Streisand visage (although the make-up artist did an Oscar-worthy job of making her appear quasi-human.)

But we loved baby's first word. Summed up the whole effort.

Man on Fire

2005-09-15T07:31:00.000-04:00

A one-hugger, this revenge pic mess of a Denzel star vehicle offers up a cheerful blend of torture, rocket-propelled grenades and explosive proctology. The corrupt Mexico City police detective hugs the girl's father upon greeting him right after the kidnapping. Avoid this movie if you suffer from epileptic seizures, as it periodically will flash white light rapidly at you for no apparent reason, as if it was shot on defective film stock or with at least one camera that had a light leak, or both. We're told though that this may be an intentional facet of the film's oppressive jumpy, shaky camera and jumpcut-heavy music video stylization -- though for all the shameful misuse of Chopin and other odd choices (Arab music? Turkish?) the only identifiable pop song was the dorkiest choice imaginable, Linda Ronstadt’s singularly soulless rendition of "Blue Bayou." Though artfully well-lighted, all the random jumping and zooming and flashing was distracting, and, to put a positive spin on it, since we're always ready to give the benefit of the doubt, may have been intentionally so, since about ten minutes worth of actual story matter had to be played out over two-and-a-half hours.

And oh, Denzel, take some advice, do a comedy, wouldja? Don’t be like Meg Ryan, who -- in a death blow to her career -- ignored our advice (most likely because she never met us) to stick with the rom coms .

Perfect Storm: A coincidence I swear

2005-08-31T22:00:00.000-04:00

[SPOILERS AHEAD. I will try to remember to note that from now on.]

We just happened to have, really, our local library's DVD of The Perfect Storm during the late horrific assault of Katrina. New Orleans is one of the hemisphere's great cities, in a great region, the US South. Our prayers and hopes for the swift return of stability go out to the now-dispersed residents, and our condolences will be but small solace to those who have lost loved ones.

New Orleans will come back. I hope to pursue a small side campaign here over the next few weeks to ascertain, long distance, the condition of the well-know landmarks -- you know, something the newspapers won't think of doing, since they'll be so busy pimping the hottest non-news about global warming, and trying to plant the thought that Supreme Court-nominee John Roberts is a racist because he once employed the word combination "war between the states."

I've been to N'arlins, will go back again someday.

The city, though, will likely be totally transformed and in major ways; the character of it may change completely from the free-wheeling den of cheerful debauchery it's always been, to become, say, a future center of pious Mormonism. You can never tell. These big natural events can cause big changes, sweep away the past and allow a whole new present to sashay in. We hear tell that San Francisco was quite the conservative stronghold before the Earthquake and Fire of 1906.

The Perfect Storm stars the totally outmatched and outclassed George Clooney. Outmatched because in the film George "big-dumb-ducks" Clooney not himself in possession of the ability to act his way out of a half-full wading pool, is pitted against a monster weather system in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Outclassed because, somewhere in there, Karen Allen has a small late-starting part in an apparently pointless and confusing subplot, pointless until you realize that it is there to bolster the main theme of the film, kill off the men, and totally humiliate the ones who remain.

You'll remember Karen as Boone's fun-intolerant, professor-chasing girlfriend in Animal House, and the hard-drinking female side-kick in Raiders of the Lost Ark. Yes, racoonish Karen Allen was in the movie, but she didn't stay dry long and her only line appeared to be "Mayday Mayday !" Nonetheless, she still managed, with those few words, to out-act the Easter Island Head-like Clooney, whose big "big dumb ducks" speech was so monotone and lacking in emotion that director Wolfgang Petersen felt compelled to play it twice in case anyone was still left wake after the first time. We'll get to the hugs in a moment, and there were some, but the movie, like the Quake of Aught-6 and Katrina of Aught-5 did represent a big sweeping-away. What was swept away? From this crow's nest it looked like the whole point of the movie was to wipe out men, and to lay out the it's-so-obvious case for why that would be a good idea.

All the women in the movie were smarter than the men, on just about every point, and more productive economically. All of them were set-up as wiser, and they all survived at the end. The men? Nothing but a bunch of beer-guzzling yahoos, who spend all their time abusing animals, chain smoking and greedily pursuing an occupation. They all die. They all die, that is, except for the shamefully clichéd Retired Fisherman Barfly and the evil Controller of the Means of Production Exploiter, the fishing boat owner.

Weirder still, in the totally unheroic ending segment, incongruously played after a movie-long earful of inappropriately heroic score, they all seemed totally okay with it -- dying that is -- as if they had confessed to capital crimes, had made their peace and were marching off serenely to the gallows.

Except for all their "lamp shaking" servicing of the women, the men really had no other purpose here than to be set up like bowling pins, and knocked down as a penalty for all their gun-toting animal cruelty, chain smoking and greedy pursuit of gainful employment. This posed no end of frustration to the obnoxiously noble, scenery chewing gals.

On to the huggery muggery. There was plenty, which dove-tailed nicely with the overall emasculation theme of the work. Some of the more run-of-the-mill action occurred at conventionally inappropriate times, like when brief hug-orgies erupted on the bridge of the boat after little victories in the worst, most frightening parts of the storm. They all just spent 10 minutes dodging a metal gadget swinging from the fishing boom. George risked his life to blow-torch it off and then, HUGS! Come on.

But the most interesting and illustrative incident occurred after the Divorced Father character got hooked and pulled into the drink, and Markie Mark and the Low-Life Mechanic character go in after him. The Low Life and the Divorced Father had been at each other's throats -- the animal-abusing, chain-smoking yahoos -- all through the movie. Yet Lowlife doesn't hesitate to dive in, with Markie, to save his arch nemesis.

So of course there has to be a reconciliation of sorts after the rescue succeeds, and what followed could have been one of the best scenes in the movie. But no, they ruined it. When Divorced Father comes on deck after his revival from near-drowning, he encounters Markie first. HUGS!

It totally ripped the guts out of the scene.

Then, Divorced Dad walks over to Low-Life. They have their little semi-rapprochement, then they did what, if it replaced every male-on-male hug in every movie chronicled here it would obviate the need for this very blog. What did they do when they made up?

The took turns punching each other on the arm!

Now that was real.

Moviegoers Weigh In: Movies Bad

2005-08-30T20:34:00.000-04:00

Hey whaddaya know, somebody thought to ask the moviegoers. Yep, the movies are bad. Mm hm.

Hollywood ad buy extinction for Newsosaurs

2005-08-17T20:37:00.000-04:00

Will post more soon. Promise.

Nikki Finke with her finger on the pulse marks another milestone in the decline. Note the very last word, "shareholders". Exactly. Where are they (and their lawyers) in all this?

Holding Action

2005-08-09T19:08:00.000-04:00

LA Times ventures into the troubles of the action genre with, Pause in the Action.

You'd think the company town's home town paper would be more in tune, or at least strive to exhibit same, and get better quotes than, "The thing that's most important to the audience is a feeling of connection to the character...." This from the president of the studio that released Kingdom of Heaven, for cryin' out loud. I saw it. I don't remember if there were any hugs but I do remember that at the climactic moment, the character we should have been connected to SURRENDERED!

This in a time of war, is what Hollywood expects to earn money.

It is actually heartening that that dreck of a movie did better overseas. It must be disheartening for the stockholders of 20th Century Fox, though, that their major studio now makes foreign films, for other countries.

The LA Times writer notes too, somewhat gleefully that from the current crop of actioners "Anything that smacks of rah-rah American patriotism has been removed..."

And the financial problems of Hollywood are a mystery to these people? The industry writers and the presidents of major studios can't spot the clues they speak and scribble themselves??

Not that all modern action movies have to be Sands of Iwo Jima but pay attention to the clues, and the news, Mr. president of 20th Century Fox. A significant segment of the audience might just support the war, and you can bet a majority at least hope it turns out well. They'd be interested in something a little more positive, and engaging, theme-wise than an Act 3 surrender.

James Webb here exhibits more film biz savvy by noting the global marketplace may dictate a diffusion of patriotism, but heck, American money is green too. In fact, it's greener than most, and closer to home.

As for action characters, the elfin Orlando Bloom does not manage to connect, by a mile. And Kingdom of Heaven did as much damage to the Auteur Theory as Coppola did with The Rainmaker. (For the record, the cracked edifice of the Auteur Theory deserves more than a little erosion.) Is this the same auteur who made Gladiator?

We're beyond Frank Capra and Why We Fight, sure, but we could stand a little more Mrs, Miniver. Now there's a character to connect with.

Cinema Squeeze FAQ

2005-08-06T08:13:00.000-04:00

I'll try to update and post this monthly, sometime in the first week of the month. If I don't then squeeze me.

CINEMA SQUEEZE FAQ

Q1. What are you doing?
A1. Statement of purposes: To illuminate any and all odd phenomenon in film, including but not limited to the pervasiveness of that cinematic equivalent to the stubbed toe, the contrived male-on-male hug. To investigate any and all causes for the deterioration of major-market, US-made ("Hollywood") film releases. This inquiry will not be limited to nor solely guided by the hugs and whether they are the cause of Hollywood failure or merely one of the more bizarre symptoms. The blog's two first posts, First Awareness and The Clincher, elaborate on origins.

Q2. Which movies have Cinema Squeezes?
A2. A2 will be a compilation of films that indulge, witness by the author or otherwise confirmed:Gettysburg; The Rainmaker; I Heart Huckabees; Lord of the Rings: Return of the King; Fantastic Four.

Q3. Come on. Can it be every movie?
A3. Just about. A3 will be the very short list of exceptions. They will also be will be the subject of the next offical blog post.

Q4. What does James Bond think?
A4. Hollywood Legends get their say. Statements on the state of Hollywood: Sean Connery. Lauren Bacall.

tags: Hollywood; movie; hugs

Just whistle, Tom. You know how to whistle don't you?

2005-08-03T06:40:00.000-04:00

Lauren Bacall weighs in in the lack of class, and legendhood, of today's stars. They don't make 'em like her anymore.

Hollywood = Idiots: Connery

2005-08-01T13:06:00.000-04:00

Thank you Bond, James Bond.

Pot calling kettle black doesn't necessarily mean the pot is wrong.

tags: Hollywood; Sean Connery; idiots

Short gap

2005-07-26T08:53:00.000-04:00

Shears Enterprises is shifting base camp. Access to the net may be spotty over the next few days. Stay tuned.

Fantastic Incredible Self Destruction

2005-07-26T08:28:00.000-04:00

Anyone else notice that the inciting incident in both The Incredibles and Fantastic Four involved a foiled suicide?

Regardless of the other similarities between the one, about a family of four superheroes two of which have common superpowers as that other group of four superheroes, and the other, this is one of those times when there seems to be only a small set of ideas in circulation out in Hollywood; and it's another of those odd phenomemon that we'd like to eventually track on The Squeeze. Life ain't all hugs and hobbits, y'know.

When a cluster of movies come out of filmdom with too many similarities to be a coincidence, some would call it mere synchronicity. Others might prefer the term incestuous thievery. Hollywood is actually a small company town. And with everyone playing it so safe, the bandwagon must be mighty easy to jump on. We'll be watching.

Easy to blame money

2005-07-23T22:43:00.000-04:00

Andrew Sullivan tackles this blog's raison d'etre (French for "raisin bran".) He blames money. That's such the easy way out. There's got to be more to it than that. There's always been money. What about all the wanton hugging?

Fantastic Four

2005-07-23T22:02:00.000-04:00

One of the best of the comic book movies, this year or any, including all the self-important Batman/Superman films, Fantastic Four captures the tall story, pulp spirit of the original. Sure it is thin on plot but anyone who'd read the comics in the original will not be unhappy with the 2005 Marvel/Hollywood telling. And, hey, it's a comic, not War and Peace.

Along with fairly justifiable setting and situation deviations from the original origin -- and I'll have to check back when I get ahold of a reprint of FF #1 -- I'm pretty sure there was no Reed Richards-Ben Grimm hug in the comic.

So there it was. We made it back from space. We survived the cosmic storm that changed our DNA. HUGS! At least they got it out if the way fairly early.

Young 12-year-old Spike Shears caught the difference in the approach to the material with this one. "It was more like a comic book," said he as we, in the Shears family movie-going tradition, watched the credits. You could tell that the makers thought of it that way too, and lovingly, in their careful revelation of the different powers, and the meticulous development of the Dr Doom character. It also highlighted the testy relationship among the team, their doubts about their powers and Ben Grimm's tribulations being known as The Thing. The special effects were seamless, and the Thing seemed "natural" -- for an orange rock man. They've even set us up for the changes to how he was drawn from the early comics to the later. This one was closer to the softer rounder Thing of the early Jack Kirby art.

So we have the first of what may be many more FF comics-on-screen. Bring on the Silver Surfer.

tags: Fantastic Four; Hollywood; movie; hugs

Over there in 40 Hours of TV land

2005-07-22T22:10:00.000-04:00

Look for the Blogger Billy over at Scott C Smith's 40 Hours of TV blog, devoted to the effects of media, where he's been taken on as a contributor. There may be some cross posting, but the theme here at the Squeeze is pretty specialized. More generalized non-Hollywood media rants (radio, TV, publishing, etc.) will likely turn up there.

Latest Links

2005-07-21T22:27:00.000-04:00

Latest three links added to the blogroll over there:

* 40 Hours of televison, A new media blog by a guy watching TV for a philosophy course. Might he get sicker than the guy who made a film about eating at McDonalds for a month? Who can say? We shall see.

* Talk about sewing up the name of the category, here's Bollywoodblog. It's in German though. But in the spirit of global community, we can't let mere language be a barrier, can we? Here's the translation of the latest post posted when I looked today, courtesy of Google language tools:

"05:48:31, categories: Salman Khan, Aishwarya Rai Aishwarya Rai cross-examined by police reports. Being correct samples were taken by Aishwarya Rai and by Salman Khan, in order to be able to examine thus the authenticity of the tapes. To what extent thus a proof can be led across Salman Khans tries Rai under pressure to set, for today expected."

Well, maybe Aishwarya Rai is Bollywoodese for Rob Lowe.

* And then there's Bad Movies and Cult Films, another category grabber. It's already proved its worth by alerting us to the Sci-fi Channel's schedule of Godzilla movies. We had forgotten about that. maybe because the only time they're shown is 3 AM!

tags: links; movies; TV

Heavy Petting Hobbits

2005-07-18T21:25:00.000-04:00

Peter Jackson's unequalled masterpiece fantasy achievement of a thrice-blessed trilogy, Lord of the Hugs, er, Rings was the ultimate realization of the fabled Tolkien story. (Or is it storied Tolkien fable?) That hulking beast of a narrative will not have to suffer interpretation again until some new medium is invented, like when we all start watching little plays produced by tiny nano-Peter Jacksons, nano-actors and nano-costume designers who'll live in the nano-Hollywoods we'll all have implanted in our optic nerves by Sony.

The universally lauded epic had only one fairly major flaw. It had...what must be...the longest...most drawn out... epilogue...in the...hissss-tory of cinema. Almost like, everyone involved knew that they had done such a good job that no one would mind sitting through a 25-MINUTE POSTSCRIPT!

Much of this lengthy coda was taken up by -- there's nothing else for it -- a hobbit hug orgy. After being rescued by giant eagles from the rock in the middle of Mt Doom's lava river, Frodo awakes in a soft-focus fluff cloud of a bed. After a few choice words with a weirdly giggly old Dame Maggie Smith, er, Gandalf the Wizard, he's accosted by his two giddy hobbit buddies in a cringe-worthy slow-motion hug frolic...in bed.

For an eternity it seems, minutes even, Frodo and Pinkus and Marty, or whatever their names, are in full-out fur-flying hug-o-rama-lama, while one-by-one the rest of the Fellowship, the adult faction, wander in, to leer regally at the spectacle of these child-like creatures coming this close to losing it and getting it on -- whatever it is that hobbits might do.

Gimli, the strapping dwarf, is first, and seems to be casting his gimlet eyes with a special appreciation for frolicking with smooth hobbit flesh -- that which is not covered by fur, that is. He's been there, it appears.

Then comes Legolas, the elf, and the only one in the room who looks remotely -- or legally! -- huggable...since he's also the one that most resembles an actual GIRL.

Then comes Aragorn, nice enough looking fellow, in theory, but not going to get hugged by this blog-hobbit until he gets a hose-down and a shampoo-rinse-shampoo-again. Whoof!

And that's just the beginning. In the bedroom section of the sequence most all of the action features Frodo, Pupkin and...the other one. Faithful Sam, the other lava rock Eagle rescuee made his appearance but did not partake, just looked on wistfully at the excessive hobbit PDA. Later though, at the harbor, yet another more complete round of gratuitous hugs ensues and Sam gets his fair share. Actually he gets a little more...and a little more...and then, being Frodo's special friend gets even more. Frodo plants an especially loooooong nibble-the-cooties kiss on the scalp. Ick.

Now artisitc license is one thing, but Lance Shears, my 14-year-old son and our region's most sought-after Tolkien impersonator ("JRR has left the building.") assures me that there is no such scene in the book. He reports (Sorry. Never made it through the books myself. What are they about?) that the comparable scene in print comprises those few pithy words between Galdalf and Frodo and that's about it (Hur hur. He said it.) Period. And though I haven't seen it since sometime in storied and fabled 70s -- the Middle Epoch of the last Demi-Century...that nameless span between the Hippie Interlude and the Age of the Nerds -- I can guestimate that Ralph Bakshi had no such episode in his blessedly abbreviated, single-picture, animated Lord opus.

So if this is any evidence of how committed Jackson is to the Hollywood Hug Principle, I fear...nay, I dread what he might have in mind for the male lead and the title character in his upcoming we'll-never-need-another-remake of King Kong.

Can't wait.

tags: Lord of the Rings; hugs; Tolkien

I Heart Huckabees

2005-07-16T09:38:00.000-04:00

Should know better than to promise but Hobbit Hug Orgy post still to come.

Rented the I Heart... DVD The less said about this gratuitous and hypocritical attack on the suburbs, business and the Amish the better. (The Amish?! Yes, the only group safe to target as a group these days, because you can be pretty sure their activist lawyers they won't be watching this atrocity on DVD. That requires electricity.)

The hug was fleeting and unexpected but it was there and no less inappropriate. In the midst of materialistic corporate shill and environment defacer Jude Law's cliche character spiral he's given a promotion to "corporate." He gives his boss quick embrace then dashes off to his moralistic doom.

Not too too annoying considering it was buried in this quite annoying, nearly unwatchable "comedy" filled as it is with environmental pieties and pseudo-intellectual blather delivered in rote, as if rubbing them together at random will lend mutual credence.

Even Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin got into the spirit, rattling off their existential gibberish speeches to the level of Mark Wahlberg.

It was good to see Tippi Hedren, though. Too bad.

tags: Huckabees; philosophy; open space;
gibberish; The Amish; Tippi Hedren

People can you feel it? Clues are everywhere.

2005-07-15T08:44:00.000-04:00

With apologies to the Allman Brothers for the subject (and with that reference I have dated myself. Oh well, there goes my screenwriting career.) but it does seem that a tipping point is coming. Many more commentators out there have this issue creeping into their consciousness, and so, into their commentary.

I was going to milk the links that have been accumulating for one post each. But I'm bursting with another major post that I want to get out soon.

The articles and such below all point to one or another aspect of the current Crisis in U.S. Cinema:

* This strugging screenwriter got a lot of on-the-verge action over the years, only to be told that the years part may have been his big career mistake. He forgot to stop aging.

* "Ah," as The Jerk might say, "it's a politic deal." Blogger/actress Govindini Murty breaks out in the LA Times. Whoof!

* Really. Relate the previous article to this one about Dreamworks losses and an investigation and you wonder where the stockholder lawsuit ambulance chasers are when you need them. Could Dreamworks and the other companies in Vivendi-Viacom-land have some kind of pass along these lines?

* And finally, (for now) deep in this appreciation of a when-it-was-good Hollywood and diplomatic realities, National Review Online's John Derbyshire waxes eloquent on Vera Ellen and George Sanders as they relate to the Live 8 empty exercise. You'll note that Derbyshire has a clue or two. Read the whole thing for the context that makes our quote below weaker with the elliptical quoting, "...[we] once had songwriters who could write songs, dancers who could dance a storm, singers who could sing, and movie producers who could whip up a light, happy, funny, cheering spectacle to make us forget our woes for a couple of hours."

Update: One more from the NRO. Sliver of hope for box office raised by Fantastic Four. Another from NRO, and to think people avoid reading it because their friends might think they are, ick, a right-winger. Gotta read all sides, eh?

Next: The Hobbit Hug Orgy

tags: Hollywood; Dreamworks ; screenwriting

Backward Time Travel

2005-07-14T14:15:00.000-04:00

"Donuts. Is there anything they can't do?" - Homer Simpson

tags: donuts; Homer Simpson ; time travel

The Clincher

2005-07-13T09:54:00.000-04:00

Why a blog? Well I was casting around for a topic (semi-subconsciously) since giving up the idea of creating a fabulous interactive directory web site...about blogs (I work a day-job in a technical, webbish field.)

Mrs. Shears and I rented a movie. The Powers-That-Be (Mrs. Shears) has been tolerating the reflexive verbal Ding! that comes, when I see a MOMH (Male-On-Male Hug) lo these many years now. The movie this night was The Rainmaker. Not the interesting one with Burt Lancaster as a rural charlatan. This The Rainmaker, made in 1997, is based on one of those shallow Grisham beach books, about "heroic" shyster lawyers and the jackpot juries that love them. It manages to stoop well down to its expectations (and therein lies the hug, see below). It stars Matt Damon (or, as he wittily refers to himself in his Team America cameo, "Matt Damon"). Danny DeVito manages to be one of the film's two elements of quality. The other, Mickey Rourke, is perfect as the absconding and day-saving king of Memphis frivolous lawsuit shyster-heroes. Neither one nor both together was enough to redeem the mess.

While plodding along toward its inevitable and welcome end, goggled by its vacuousness, as often happens, the vigil for MOMHs was completely off-scope. Often the loss of mission is due to a movie taking you somewhere entertaining, possibly even enlightening -- rare these days. More often it's a struggle to apply the minimum mental background radiation necessary to interpret that most basic of movie necessities, a coherent plot.

Ocean's Twelve was one such. What a shame. All that acting mule-flesh wasted. Ten minutes into it you lose track and somehow you know you'll never get it back. How did they manage that? You'd really have to go out of your way to make a movie so bad. All the consumer could be sure of was that the makers had revived the same situation as the prequel. Why do that? Julia Roberts was still merely an ornament. What was that worth to her? Matt Damon was still "Matt Damon" except a little more so. And why was George Clooney in such a panic over Andy Garcia and two goons gunning for him. You're a criminal for Jebus's sake, George! There are 12 of you, for crying our loud. Just kill him.

This 1997 Rainmaker was so lacking in style, I was truly amazed at the end credits to see it was written and directed by Francis "coasting-since-the-70s" Coppola, something I didn't know up to that point. I don’t follow the Grisham oeuvre religiously. And the bottom had so completely dropped out of Coppola since he made three of the top 10 movies on the Billy Shears Best Movies of all Time List (The Godfather, Apocalypse Now and The Conversation) that he hasn’t been worth following for a couple-three decades himself.

Anyway, I was in near-doze and then, just in time, saved by the bell, Ding! There it was.

It is, without a doubt, THE most preposterous male movie hug of all time. Matt Damon must have wrenched his back to lean over far enough to give the mega-diminutive DeVito that awkward of an unimaginatively framed afterthought of a squeeze.

It was so close to the end that most of the movie-goers who made it that far may have already been heading for the door. Maybe that was Coppola's hope. He deserves the benefit of the doubt. The Air-Cav surfing scene in Apocalypse will buy you a lot of doubt benefits.

So...there it was, the impetus for Cinema Squeeze blog was born with that totally gratuitous embrace. No more would I merely rant and ding at the requisite cinema squeezes as they rolled through our woefully inadequate home entertainment system. No more swearing to start a journal to chronicle these crimes against narrative.

No. I had my topic. A blog became the medium for this message.

So feel free to comment with your own MOMH spotting. I will never be able to go back and rewatch all the movies I've seen since Gettysburg so I will rely on community participation, try to verify as much as possible, and possibly start a faq with all confirmed spottings. Who can say?

And please, let's keep it civil.

Did anyone make it through Ocean's Twelve? If so, there must have been one in there. Where was the MOMH in that pathetic non-story and who were the perps?

Ding!

tags: cinema; movies; hugs; Oceans Twelve; The Rainmaker; movies

First Awareness

2005-07-09T20:31:00.000-04:00

It's possible to pinpoint the exact time when I started taking these sightings seriously...well the exact movie anyway. It would not, could not, of course, have been my first male-on-male hug sighting experience (MOMH, might as well get the acronyms started ASAP.) I've been watching Hollywood movies all my life and many many such occurrences must have washed over me harmlessly. Retroactively I've rewatched many films since the time I first became awake and aware and have noticed MOMHs that hadn't been noticed before. How could I have been so blind to this phenomenon?

I was blithely unaware of it until, around 1996 or so, that incongruous moment in Gettysburg, Turner Films' elaborately mediocre adaptation of Michael Sharra's excellent historical novel The Killer Angels, hit me with the force of a Minie ball. Col. Joshua Chamberlain, played by Jeff Daniels, prior to the climactic charge of the 20th Maine on 2 July, 1863, we are told, took a moment to give a nice long hug to brother Tom Chamberlain. Aw. How nice!

Well hell that's all well and good in a Turner Films/Jeff Daniels cinematic universe. Not to split hairs though but there were actually three Chamberlain brothers present that day: Joshua (aka Lawrence,) Tom and John. Joshua's on-the-scene account clearly indicates that shaking hands was the order of the day. John shakes hands with his two brothers. Intuitively, you non-Turner Film's creative folk would venture that this was so. Plus shaking hands is just plain more dramatic. By sticking in that hug they threw away an opportunity for some pithy eye contact to ratchet up the tension. Instead they went touchy feely, at least a century before it was hip.

And why, in the multitude of creative decisions that make up a movie, do you drop the third brother? Can you just imagine the story meeting?

"We need to lose the third brother."
"But three is more historically accurate."
"Well, we have the hug, though."
"Oh yes, I forgot that."
"Having that third brother hovering around would seem...odd."
"Yes, of course."

As part of this investigation I will reread The Killer Angels and try to pinpoint where author Shaara indicates that this might be the good place to put the famous Chamberlain brothers Little Round Top hug. Tell the truth I don't remember but one Chamberlain from the book, but it's been a few years. I'll get back to you on that.

The theory formed soon after that viewing. With every film watched after that it became more and more apparent that you are required to have a hug between men in your movie. I've been cursed by these sightings ever since. Hell I even tried to adhere to it in one of my own screenplays, although I couldn't go all the way. It's a sci-fi and the one guy gives the monitor carrying a digital guy's image a comradely you-da-man squeeze. That's as far as I'll go for now. I'm not ready to go all the way.

Exceptions will be mentioned in the course of this investigation but as exceptions prove the rule, so it is with this strange phenomenon, being that since there are so few exceptions the number of occurences is, shall we say, oversignificant. To say the least.

Next: The Will to Blog

tags: cinema; hugs; Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain; Gettysburg