CSotD: Episode MMXVIII: A New Hope
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Rudy Park scores the only "Last Jedi" mention here for a couple of reasons, starting with my only caring about the film as a social factor and not as a motion picture.
I have not seen it and almost certainly won't, not because I'm the kind of snob who avoids popular films but because of the fool-me-how-many-times? principle.
I absolutely adored the first Star Wars movie, and when I say "first," I mean that one that was made before any other Star Wars movies were made.
Great movie. Every bit as good as "Nevada Smith" and I'm glad that Darth Vader didn't brag about raping Luke's aunt, because I took my kids.
And I'm not sure if Brian Keith was playing the role of ol' Ben Kenobi or of Han Solo but I liked all three of'em.
But I prefer the Western-Western over the Space Western, on account of every time I've seen it, Martin Landau fires first. Well, throws his knife first. But you get it.
Also, while I'll concede a vague authorial connection between "Nevada Smith" and "the Carpetbaggers," I don't see a whole lot more connecting "Star Wars" to the theatrical-length toy commercials that followed, perhaps because I saw the first three at an age where I was the one buying the damn toys rather than one of the ones begging for them.
Such that, while I had serious questions about why a civilization that could master interstellar flight and zip through the skies in X-wing and Tie fighters would somehow find it practical to stomp around in clumsy, mechanical, top-heavy AT-ATs — a machine that seemed likely to benefit Hasbro much more than Vader — I completely bailed on the series near the end of the third film, when our heroes were saved by adorable plush toys.
I have seen about the first 15 minutes of a couple of the others, but just couldn't get there.
I'd sooner watch Melanie Griffith deface "Born Yesterday" or Ben Stiller impersonate "The Heartbreak Kid" than struggle to suspend disbelief for yet another episode of "The Wonderful World of Lucas."
That said, and to drag this beast kicking and screaming back on topic, I'm well aware that the hive mind is busily pondering the new film, and, much as I hate to agree with Randy on anything, I don't care.
Michael Cavna has an article which notes that "despite its polarized reception, 'Star Wars: The Last Jedi' became the biggest film of 2017."
Not "despite."
"Because."
If the hive mind could agree on a verdict, we'd have wrapped this up two weeks ago.
So here's my verdict on "The Last Jedi":
Want to see it? Go see it. Then like it or don't like it, based on how you feel about it, not on the hive mind.
One more thing:
If you think I'm stretching a point to compare the original to "Nevada Smith," play with that name a little. Swap the elements out.
If you end up with Dennis Weaver as a veterinarian, just look north.
Mr. Boffo begins the new year re-inforcing my intent to re-stream "The Big Short," which I watched yesterday while I was doing housework, which is no way to follow the twists and turns in what is only nominally fiction.
This film should be a lot scarier than the Walking Dead or House of Cards or other horrifying series that people are besotted with, because not only did this happen but it's still happening and not off in some distant fantasy world.
I picked up a lot from it, and I didn't come in with an unwrinkled brain: My work as a business writer had let me know about a lot of this, though I was never close enough to the top to see why something that seemed so clearly unsustainable was able to prosper.
The point of the film is that it should have been obvious that this unbridled grasping was not sustainable, and Mr. Boffo's skepticism over the building going up next door is the sort of observation more of us should have been making.
And should be making now that we've reformed our tax system to work on much the same massively unprincipled principle.
However, despite 2008, when we hear economic theories that can't possibly work, our response is, "Well, I'm sure they know what they're doing."
They knew then, they know now, and they know you don't.
Anyway, I'm going back for another look at how the pieces fit together, and how they didn't.
Horror being more fun on film than in reality.
Speaking of horrors which are a great deal more fun in fiction than in person, today's Pardon My Planet uses the comic concept "What if they said what they really meant?"
If women were geared to be that direct, or if men were geared to see through the nuances we're supposed to pick up on, there would be no harassment claims but, then again, there would also be no literature.
"I need a little time" is related to "I want a little space," the whole sentence being "I need a little time to figure out how to dump your sorry ass."
It's very funny in comics because it's excruciatingly painful in real life.
To bring things back to cinema, romantic movies are like Bond films, particularly since Daniel Craig has taken the role, because he's not a pretty boy and so the villains get to truly beat the living crap out of him in every movie, and not only is it absurd that he lives, but moreso that he escapes through a level of parcour Spiderman would envy.
Nobody should watch Bond movies to learn how to fight, and nobody should watch romantic movies for dating tips.
If you behave in real life the way people behave in either type of film, I promise you will find that the pain hurts a lot more in real life than it appears to on the silver screen.
Dude, if you have to ask …
Mike Peterson has posted his "Comic Strip of the Day" column every day since 2010. His opinions are his own, but we welcome comments either agreeing or in opposition.
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