Casual Cogitations

2012 is exactly what the trailers make it look like: a bombastic disaster film.

It's not so much that the Earth is destroyed, but that it's done so thoroughly. 2012, the mother of all disaster movies (and the father, and the extended family) spends half an hour on ominous set-up scenes (scientists warn, strange events occur, prophets rant and of course a family is introduced) and then unleashes two hours of cataclysmic special events hammering the Earth relentlessly.

This is fun. 2012 delivers what it promises, and since no sentient being will buy a ticket expecting anything else, it will be, for its audiences, one of the most satisfactory films of the year. It even has real actors in it. Like all the best disaster movies, it's funniest at its most hysterical. You think you've seen end-of-the-world movies? This one ends the world, stomps on it, grinds it up and spits it out.

It also continues a recent trend toward the wholesale destruction of famous monuments. Roland Emmerich, the director and co-writer, has been vandalizing monuments for years, as in
Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow and Godzilla.

In all disaster movies, landmarks fall like dominos. The Empire State Building is made of rubber. The Golden Gate Bridge collapses like clockwork. Big Ben ticks his last. The Eiffel Tower? Quel dommage!

Emmerich thinks on a big scale. Yes, he destroys regular stuff. It will come as little surprise (because at this writing the film's trailer on YouTube alone had more than 7,591,413 views) that the aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy rides a tsunami onto the White House. When St. Peter's Basilica is destroyed, Leonardo's God and Adam are split apart just where their fingers touch (the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel having been moved into St. Peter's for the occasion). Then when Emmerich gets warmed up, the globe's tectonic plates shift thousands of miles, water covers the planet, and a giraffe walks aboard an ark.

Many gigantic arks have been secretly constructed inside the Himalayas by the Chinese, funded by a global consortium, and they're the only chance of the human race surviving. Along with the animals on board, there's the maybe well-named Noah. In theory, ark ticket holders represent a cross-section of the globe, chosen democratically. In practice, this clique pulls strings to benefit the rich and connected, and wants to strand desperate poor people on the dock.

Such questions pale by comparison with more alarming events. The tectonic plates shift so violently scientists can almost see them on Google Earth. This havoc requires stupendous special effects. Emmerich's budget was $250 million, and "2012" may contain more f/x in total running time than any other film. They're impressive. Not always convincing, because how can the flooding of the Himalayas be made convincing? And Emmerich gives us time to regard the effects and appreciate them, even savor them.

Emmmerich also constructs dramatic real-scale illusions, as when an earthquake fissure splits a grocery store in half. John Cusack is the hero in an elaborate sequence involving his desperate attempts to unblock a jammed hydraulic lift that threatens to sink the ark. He does a lot of heroic stuff in this film, especially for a novelist, like leaping a van over a yawning chasm and riding a small plane through roiling clouds of earthquake dust.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

The bottom line is: The movie gives you your money's worth. Is it a masterpiece? No. Is it one of the year's best? No. Does Emmerich hammer it together with his elbows from parts obtained from the Used Disaster Movie Store? Yes. But is it about as good as a movie in this genre can be? Yes. No doubt it will inflame fears about our demise on Dec. 21, 2012. I'm worried, too. Knowing my days are numbered, I'm gonna have to play Modern Warfare 6 more passionately from now on.

At one time, Nathan Ford was the best insurance investigator in the business. He was a master at recovering stolen goods, thus saving his bosses millions of dollars in payouts over the years. Unfortunately, the company wasn't interested in returning the favor, allowing Nate's son to die rather than pay for the experimental treatments that might have saved the child.

Crushed by the boy's death, Nate crawled into a bottle, which led to his divorce and finally, his inability to keep a job. Enter Victor Dubenich. Dubenich wants to hire Nate to steal back stolen research from a rival corporation—a corporation insured by the same company that screwed Nate over. Unable to resist the offer, Nate goes to the very best, the thieves and grifters he's spent his whole life chasing. He hires cat burglar Parker, hacker Hardison, and "recovery specialist" Elliott . They make quick work of stealing the research then destroying the computer copies, but once the job is done they realize they've been double-crossed and that makes them all very angry. We like this team, when they get angry.

Now it's time for Nate to pull a con of his own. He brings in the final team member, grifter Sophie and it's payback time. When all is said and done, this team of misfits finds that there's a certain joy in justice, so they decide to put their combined talents to work for the good of common man. Because all you need when fighting a corporate giant is just a little leverage.

The joy of Leverage comes from watching the plan come together. How do you get a crooked contractor to sign over the house he just stole to the people he stole it from? You simply pretend you're building a ski resort then fake an insurance scam, convince the mark Parker has a brain tumor, make two brothers suspicious of each other, then switch the legal documents at the bank, causing them to sign over everything to Nate who can then do what he wants with the assets. Like candy from a baby.

I'll give you that there are moments in the show that make you say, no way, but the writers assure us in the commentary, that (almost) everything they do is actually possible. They've gone so far as to recreate certain moments, such as sending a fake ID fax from a cell phone, just to prove the validity to the network who didn't believe them either.

One of the reasons the show works is because they have an expert in cons on their side who is not to be believed. I stood toe-to-toe with him and didn't see him steal my friend's watch, which turned up on his wrist. Apparently Beth Riesgraf, who plays Parker, learned her lessons so well, everyone checks their pockets whenever she leaves a room.

But even the cleverest con wouldn't be enough to keep you coming back every week if the characters weren't likeable, and that's a real danger when you're doing a show about thieves. Not a problem on this series. Even though they're crooks, these five are oddly relatable. Parker has social issues, which always has her saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Elliot likes to punch things when he gets frustrated. Hardison is an often-overlooked nerd and even the lovely Sophie is plagued by a dream that's always out of reach. And Nate, he's the epitome of "when bad things happen to good people," and you just want to fix him but you can't.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Leverage is the perfect blend of action, drama and comedy. The scripts are clever, the characters are charming, and the overall look is as slick as a feature film. But don't think that funny means light. You're going to have to pay close attention, if you want to follow the twists and turns in the cons, but the payoff is always worth it.

The following is a scientific test designed to examine your soul. Please answer the following questions as honestly as possible.

1. Describe your feelings about directors Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer. In case the names do not ring a bell, please be aware that they are the two responsible for Date Movie, Epic Movie, Meet The Spartans and now Disaster Movie.
A. Two no-talent hacks who somehow keep managing to get work that pays quite well.
B. They look just like the bees I saw yesterday.
C. The two gods of awesome.

2. Which films do you think a film called Disaster Movie should spoof?
A. Titanic, Volcano, Independence Day, Deep Impact, Armageddon and I Am Legend
B. The entire filmography of Gus Van Sant.
C. Whatever f—-ing blockbuster movies came out most recently, so that they are fresh in my mind.

3. If Hellboy, The Incredible Hulk, Batman, and other iconic movie characters of 2008 appear onscreen in a comedy, what should they do?
A. Something entertaining that justifies their appearance.
B. Paint the cobblestones on Piper Street.
C. Introduce themselves, because I'm totally going to forget who they are if they don't say whatever.

4. Seeing an Amy Winehouse look-alike burping for about one minute straight is…
A. Dumb and unfunny.
B. Smelly like a fish, but also revealing.
C. Best joke ever. Can we make it two minutes, please?

5. Disaster Movie makes a point to criticize the writing in Juno on numerous occasions. What is your reaction to this?
A. The writing in Juno may be worthy of mockery at times, but the people who made Disaster Movie have absolutely no right to criticize the writing of any film, much less Juno.
B. There are lots of good writers in Alaska.
C. Dude, that is so spot-on. I couldn't understand that whore in that movie, anyway. All those obscure references were totally over my head. Arrogant little jerk.

6. A man falls into a giant pile of fecal matter. He then utters the word, "S-t!" What is your reaction to this?
A. Quite an obvious and unfunny gag.
B. Did he have any quarters in his pocket? I hope not, we wouldn't want them sullied.
C. Hahahahaha! That is brilliant, because the dude fell into a pile of s-t, and then he said, "S-t!," so it's like all connected. Haha.

7. Should every female character in a film be referred to as a bitch and/or whore at some point in a film?
A. Such demeaning language indicates a profound level of disrespect for women. Unless the film is attempting to reflect such unfortunate attitudes, no, such language should not be used.
B. If they are wearing turtles on their heads.
C. Yes, because you gotta be keeping them bitches in line.

8. Which of the three following activities appeal the most to you?
A. Reading a really good book.
B. Pondering the meaning of swiss cheese. Where are the missing pieces?
C. Kicking people in the balls.

9. Which category would you say best describes the type of humor you like?
A. Sharp satire, well-staged slapstick, witty dialogue.
B. Anything involving the word "esoteric."
C. Balls, wieners, boobies, butts, and lots of pee and poo.

10. What should a movie spoof attempt to do?
A. Satirize some of the weaker points of a film.
B. Blow bubbles until one is shaped like a queen.
C. Simply offer an amateurish version of a popular scene from a popular movie trailer, and add some sort of painfully one-dimensional sexual and/or crass context.

Okay, please tally your answers. Got it? All right, let's see how you did.

If you answered "A" to the majority of the questions, congratulations. You are permitted go on about your business, skip Disaster Movie and have children.

If you answered "B" to the majority of the questions, you are either insane or high. If the former, then you certainly need to seek help. If the latter…um…got anything for me? It's been a bad day.

If you answered "C" to the majority of the questions, then you will love this film. It will make you laugh endlessly, until you forget about it ten minutes later due to the state of your badly-damaged brain. In fact, you probably didn't make it this far, but rather quit three questions into the survey and started surfing the web for free 15-second porn clips.

Believe it or not, but Disaster Movie is the only recent spoof that actually lives up to its title. A painfully disastrous mess, this is just another embarrassing comedy that spends almost 90 minutes making shameless fun of the year's biggest blockbusters and celebrities. Now, I don't have anything against spoofs in general, but making fun of other flicks the correct way takes quite a bit of creativity, and that's exactly what Disaster Movie is missing.

Laughs are obviously nonexistent in this movie, and nearly every scene suffers from either disgusting slapstick humor or primitive dialogue. Whether it's an Amy Winehouse lookalike burping for 30 seconds straight, Dr. Phil trying to get laid, the Hulk losing his pants, a Juno wannabe beating a male Carrie Bradshaw, or Carmen Electra and Kim Kardashian wrestling with barely any clothes on, the list of embarrassingly bad moments is endless, really.

I feel utterly sorry for everyone who agreed to participate in this cataclysmic failure. I feel sorry for those who decided to green-light the project in the first place, and I feel sorry for those who wrote, directed and starred in it. My suggestion to them is to stop doing whatever it is they're doing, as I sincerely believe it would be for the best of all of us. You can totally hate me for being so harsh here, but this is exactly the kind of film that helps turning Hollywood into even more a shallow place than it already is.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

I must say, after being acquainted with this perpetual television rivalry for supremacy, my hands were eager for some action, I couldn’t wait to backfire everything I just read, in spite of the fact that I have no interest or past experience when it comes to anything remotely related to our Filipino entertainment commerce since I turned eight pips and set out to exhibit myself to series' that didn’t make me bash my own head to the wall day in, day out even before the credits begun rolling.

Truth be told, I don’t really give a hoot about ratings or such, as long as I get good quality programs. That’s probably why I am not bombarded with regular messages explaining some discrepancies in data gatherings for ratings in certain towns, on contrast to most patriots who struggle to watch our local news. I just don’t care.

At any rate, I like to disagree, if I may, with this faceted belligerency. It dawned upon me that the reason behind all this fuss is money. For us consumers ratings could simply be indicators of how popular a television (or radio) channel or network is, for a given time of the day. However, for the network and for the media industry, ratings represent pricing power. For media that are not able to count exact “hits” or “page views” ratings are used as an indication of popularity and reach. This translates to how much the television network or station can charge advertisers, particularly as they price ad spots on cost per thousand pairs of eyeballs (or impressions, if that’s a better term).

I can say that metrics and such “ratings” go only as far as being helpful as “first impressions” of a T.V series. What matters more to me is the quality of the content, and relevancy to my interests, and of course, if the show is able to reach out to me in a way I like. I would rather watch intelligently-written and presented TV series from a channel with low ratings, than watch crappy programming just because it’s popular among viewers.

So how about those networks with their rating wars? I’d say just focus on fixing the quality of your content, and perhaps the good ratings will follow.

Unfortunately everything I said up to this point is numb and insensible, because like I said, I do not even bother to glance around our local channels to begin with. If only I had a gentle heart and consider the fact that the Philippine entertainment industry is in its infancy compared to American and other national entertainment industries (not taking into account the third-world budgetary constraints imposed on most productions), I would just close my eyes to the small, forgivable faux pas and scapegoat formulas filmmakers resort to.

The real culprit I surmise is the “Pwede na ‘yan!” attitude and mentality ingrained in the Filipino consciousness. We as a people make do with mediocrity and just shrug, “Pwede na ‘yan. Di na ‘yan mapapansin” Unless we delete this pwede na ‘yan mentality, we will never progress.

The bad news for the entertainment commerce is that viewers are more intelligent these days and they know when they are being treated as fools or shortchanged. The good news though is that producers, directors and people in the industry are slowly realizing that quality, in the end, will thrill the viewers, make or break a show and determine its mass appeal.

Regretfully so, that is not where it stops. Because Filipino programs are not simply for entertainment; it's a reflection of the Filipino culture and these show also help shape up the identity and help shape further the culture of the Filipinos. And from what I’ve seen, the entertainment industry doesn’t crave for new concepts, ideas and twists, they’re fine with the way things are, and that my friend, is being sorely mediocre at best.

Avert your eyes all you want, but lets face it, how many times did a show made you scream out loud these questions: Why does the car always does a somersault and end up exploding in car chases? Why does the gun of the protagonist never runs out of bullets and gunmen never hits their targets despite the raining bullets? I’m sick and tired of having to sit through a show/film watching an amnesiac lead character be bumped in the head to miraculously get his/her memory to get back. Or the painfully dull and tedious rags to riches story, where the poor, underdog heroine who is being maltreated by her mother will soon find out that she's just adopted and really belongs to a filthy rich family. The puzzling thing is that the writers, producers and directors must be aware of how trite these scenes are, yet they still resort to the same formulas.

I don’t blame that Chinese journalist for stereotyping us as the nation of slaves, regardless of the fact that thousands of OFWs are employed in Hong Kong households as housemaids, helper or chambermaids, of course. Simply because not only that we act and look like a slave of nations, we don’t do feces to prove them wrong.

However, I do like the idea of a wide-awake media, without regard for their reasons, because I recall a Jefferson line that really had this resounding deep insight, ”The price of freedom is eternal vigilance” . And in our case, Filipino programs are always sleeplessly watchful on anything that pops out. Funny to think that there finally came a day when having an excessively greedy and power-hungry media became the safe-guard of our democracy.

There's very little here that's left to chance here. In less than four minutes, they establish who this character is and leave him dangling on the edge of death. Over the next 30 minutes, we learn Stark is whip smart, has the resources to do whatever he wants, and most of all has the passion and determination to pull it all off, no matter the cost. Now imagine that power in the hands of someone whose entire life has been turned inside out and the consequences of his lifelong actions have returned to haunt him 100 fold. This field is fertile beyond belief and they cultivate it well. From the opening title card to the crash of the Mark I, this is hands down the most impressive Marvel character adaptation to date. And yeah, I'm callin' you out Spidey.

Bringing Iron Man to the big screen must have been tough. Sure, the high-tech armor and all the explosions are no-brainers, but the character behind the armor is tougher to pin down. Superman and Spider-Man are likable every man, Batman is a brooding (and therefore cool) loner, and the Hulk and the X-Men are sympathetic, misunderstood monsters. But Tony Stark? He's an obnoxious bastard. He rubs people the wrong way, he makes bad decisions, and he often puts his own needs and wants above others. If you were to meet him, you'd probably think, "What a rich jerk."

So how do you make this guy a hero for audiences to root for? One option would have been to toss out the character as originally written and go in some other direction. Another option would to have made his change of heart—so to speak—in the movie a "night and day" juxtaposition, where's he's only a jerkwad before he becomes Iron Man, and then he's a newly stalwart Tony afterward. Favreau and the screenwriters, however, take the path less traveled, by sticking with an unlikable protagonist throughout. Sure, Tony sees life in a new light after his Afghanistan escape, and he's newly devoted to doing the right thing, but he's still Tony. He still loves the parties and the hot cars, and he still doesn't give a damn what anyone else thinks of him. Funny thing about unlikable protagonists—when written well, we do end up liking them in a way, simply because they're fascinating characters.

Shouldering the burden of this performance—and the entire film, really—is Robert Downey Jr. Some have said that Downey Jr. is merely playing himself in the movie, and others have drawn parallels between the actor and the fictional character. I won't disagree, but if that's what he needs to inform his performance, than why not? Downey Jr. carries the movie with loads of cocky swagger, but there's just enough of a glimpse to Tony's underlying humanity seen here and there to let us know that he's not really that bad of a guy.

For as well-made and fun as this movie is, it made some serious narrative missteps during its climax, just slightly tainting the enjoyment of the overall film. As noted above, the finale does offer some action, but it's not really the big, larger-than-life set piece the movie needs at this point. The finale starts with Iron Man not at full strength, with his suit's automated system already telling him he's losing power. Wouldn't it have been more exciting to Iron Man cut loose with all his firepower, instead of being in a weakened state for the whole fight?

Even worse, it's here that the movie falls into cheesy superhero clichés, giving Paltrow embarrassing lines like "He's gone insane!" and "But you'll dieeee!!!" Likewise, Stane has an awkward line about his targeting system, which will give all the Star Wars haters nightmare flashbacks to that whole "I've got the high ground" thing. With all the careful thought and planning that went into this movie, it's too bad they couldn't go the extra mile for the finale.

Crash tells interlocking stories of whites, blacks, Latinos, Koreans, Iranians, cops and criminals, the rich and the poor, the powerful and powerless, all defined in one way or another by racism. All are victims of it, and all are guilty it. Sometimes, yes, they rise above it, although it is never that simple. Their negative impulses may be instinctive, their positive impulses may be dangerous, and who knows what the other person is thinking?

The result is a movie of intense fascination; we understand quickly enough who the characters are and what their lives are like, but we have no idea how they will behave, because so much depends on accident. Most movies enact rituals; we know the form and watch for variations. Crash is a movie with free will, and anything can happen. Because we care about the characters, the movie is uncanny in its ability to rope us in and get us involved.

Crash was directed by Paul Haggis, whose screenplay for Million Dollar Baby led to Academy Awards. It connects stories based on coincidence, serendipity, and luck, as the lives of the characters crash against one another other like pinballs. The movie presumes that most people feel prejudice and resentment against members of other groups, and observes the consequences of those feelings.

One thing that happens, again and again, is that peoples' assumptions prevent them from seeing the actual person standing before them. An Iranian is thought to be an Arab, although Iranians are Persian. Both the Iranian and the white wife of the district attorney believe a Mexican-American locksmith is a gang member and a crook, but he is a family man.

A black cop is having an affair with his Latina partner, but never gets it straight which country she's from. A cop thinks a light-skinned black woman is white. When a white producer tells a black TV director that a black character "doesn't sound black enough," it never occurs to him that the director doesn't "sound black," either. For that matter, neither do two young black men, who dress and act like college students, but have a surprise for us.

You see how it goes. Along the way, these people say exactly what they are thinking, without the filters of political correctness. The district attorney's wife is so frightened by a street encounter that she has the locks changed, then assumes the locksmith will be back with his "homies" to attack them. The white cop can't get medical care for his dying father, and accuses a black woman at his HMO with taking advantage of preferential racial treatment. The Iranian can't understand what the locksmith is trying to tell him, freaks out, and buys a gun to protect himself. The gun dealer and the Iranian get into a shouting match.

I make this sound almost like episodic TV, but Haggis writes with such directness and such a good ear for everyday speech that the characters seem real and plausible after only a few words. His cast is uniformly strong; the actors sidestep cliches and make their characters particular.

For me, the strongest performance is by Matt Dillon, as the racist cop in anguish over his father. He makes an unnecessary traffic stop when he thinks he sees the black TV director and his light-skinned wife doing something they really shouldn't be doing at the same time they're driving. True enough, but he wouldn't have stopped a black couple or a white couple. He humiliates the woman with an invasive body search, while her husband is forced to stand by powerless, because the cops have the guns -- Dillon, and also an unseasoned rookie, who hates what he's seeing but has to back up his partner.

That traffic stop shows Dillon's cop as vile and hateful. But later we see him trying to care for his sick father, and we understand why he explodes at the HMO worker (whose race is only an excuse for his anger). He victimizes others by exercising his power, and is impotent when it comes to helping his father. Then the plot turns ironically on itself, and both of the cops find themselves, in very different ways, saving the lives of the very same TV director and his wife. Is this just manipulative storytelling? It didn't feel that way to me, because it serves a deeper purpose than mere irony: Haggis is telling parables, in which the characters learn the lessons they have earned by their behavior.

Other cross-cutting Los Angeles stories come to mind, but Crash finds a way of its own. It shows the way we all leap to conclusions based on race -- yes, all of us, of all races, and however fair-minded we may try to be -- and we pay a price for that. If there is hope in the story, it comes because as the characters crash into one another, they learn things, mostly about themselves. Almost all of them are still alive at the end, and are better people because of what has happened to them. Not happier, not calmer, not even wiser, but better. Then there are those few who kill or get killed; racism has tragedy built in.

The way you approach Final Fantasy VII Advent Children will have a lot to do with your history as a gamer, and more specifically, your history with the Final Fantasy series. There is no way around it: Final Fantasy VII Advent Children is fan service. Glorious, beautiful, well-executed fan service. Those who enjoyed Final Fantasy VII and wanted to see the story continue get their wish with this film and an upcoming gaggle of games that transport enthusiasts back to the land of their dreams. Everyone else, do a bit of homework on the back story, then sit back and enjoy one of the most visually engaging CGI movies ever.

To everyone who considers anime a superior form of entertainment to American fare: Congratulations! You've just been tricked into watching a Hollywood movie. The plot is something that you could see at any multiplex theater between the months of May and August, and usually the rest of the year too. It's just an excuse to get the hero involved in some dazzling action scenes, and when it's all over, Cloud saves the day in an unsatisfying deus ex machina that leaves everything open to interpretation.

Unless you've played the game (or watched a friend play it, or seen some cosplay, or read some information online), there's no chance of getting to know the characters. Most sequels have that problem, but here it's magnified because the original was about 40+ hours' worth of gameplay. Compare that to a two-hour movie and that's a whole lot of back-story to catch up on. The movie tries to explain things with some introductory narration and willy-nilly flashbacks, but after trying to advance the story for 40 minutes, it just gives up and switches to pure action and fighting. There are even some cute comedy bits early on, but the lasting impression is one of fighting, fighting and more fighting. For old-time Final Fantasy fans, it's a thrill to see various characters reunite and join in the battle, but pulling on nostalgic heartstrings to say, "Hey, remember THIS guy?" is no substitute for real storytelling.

The action sequences are so kinetic and over-the-top that that border on the orgasmic. Characters leap and dive on-screen at a frenzied pace, pulling off some of the most ludicrously jaw-dropping action sequences you will ever see in any medium, ever, like a three-on-one sword fight performed on motorcycles at high speed, with each antagonist leaping into the air from motorbike to motorbike. It is actually too much to take at times, the pace so insane that the eye simply fails to keep up with the action on-screen. The synapses firing in your brain simply start rejecting the information being passed to it, like water overflowing from a sink. You find yourself laughing out loud at the utter absurdity of it. Simply put, you have never seen anything like the action in Advent Children. It is awesome in the literal sense of the word, in that it fills you with awe.

As for the animation itself, it is kind of frightening. Rendered entirely in CGI, the shocking advancements in computer animation technology are mind-blowing, even compared to Square Enix's previous Final Fantasy: Spirits Within film. The fanatical attention paid to each individual hair strand, the complex and varying skin tones, and the small loose movements of each hand as it hangs casually at a character's side borders on the unnatural. It looks so good at times that it appears utterly surreal, completely and utterly impossible for humans to be doing the things they are doing. You have to remind yourself at times that the characters on-screen are entirely imaginary. If this kind of technology keeps progressing at its current rate, the possibilities for filmmaking are staggering.

Dig into the "Shadow" novels that make up what might be called the "second wave" of Orson Scott Card's Ender saga, and you'll find books that stand in sharp contrast to the three novels that followed Ender's Game itself. Those titles — Speaker Of The Dead, Xenocide and Children Of The Mind — were deeply contemplative and centered on the relationships between Ender and a host of, shall we say, rather emotionally tortured characters. The Shadow novels retain the interest in interpersonal dynamics (Card is basically incapable of writing any novel that lacks such a focus), but the narrative goals are all about action and suspense this time, without asking so much from the reader in the way of a furrowed brow.

Following Ender's victory against the Formics, the world is a changed place. With the alien enemy defeated, humanity, once united under the Hegemon, has quickly settled back into business as usual. Nations reestablish themselves and rattle sabers. A new world order is indeed in the offing. Ender is quickly shipped off to a colony world to calm global concern over what America might do, led by such a great military leader. And the remaining graduates of Battle School return to their home countries to try to settle into a life they never really grew up enough to know in the first place.

The new X factor is Achilles de Flandres, Bean's bete noire from his childhood as a Rotterdam street urchin. Achilles is psychotic, but a cunning manipulator. Having gotten kicked out of Battle School by Bean, Achilles has ingratiated himself to the Russian government, and he arranges for the abduction of every member of Ender's "jeesh," the Dragon Army — the Battle School platoon he commanded in his victory against the Formics. Power hungry countries all want Ender's former soldiers under their control, as valuable assets in whatever wars yet loom on the horizon. But Achilles has plans of his own, and finds more than enough power hungry countries eager to be led, and misled, by his machinations.

Bean is singled out for special treatment by Achilles, who just tries to assassinate him outright. Bean, the ultimate survivor, tries to stay one step ahead of Achilles' plans. With his surrogate mother figure Sister Carlotta, who rescued both him and Achilles from thier homelessness, he travels the globe like a fugitive, cloaked under false identities. While events in the east spiral towards world war, as Achilles sets in motion an invasion of southeast Asia by India that is certain to provoke a response by the imperialist Chinese, Bean urges Ender's arrogant but brillant older brother Peter to shore up the fading Hegemony by becoming Hegemon himself. And there is also the matter of his former classmate Petra Arkanian, who is held hostage by Achilles in India, all too obviously as bait to lure Bean.

Shadow of the Hegemon is a political and military thriller, straight up. What it lacks in intellectual and thematic muscle it tries, more or less successfully, to make up for with white-knuckle excitement. It's enjoyable on those terms, though too often, events click too conveniently into place in order to get the plot where Card wants it to go. For instance, given their centuries of mutual animosity, it's v-e-r-y hard to believe that even Achilles could be such a winning and charismatic person as to persuade both India and Pakistan to withdraw its armies from one another's borders with a heap of sugar-coated and all too clearly bogus promises — and do so in the space of a single high-level meeting with Pakistan's leader.

Its hard to ignore, in fact, the problems here are too plentiful for me to elaborate on, but here's a quick list. With few exceptions, the characters all talk the same way and think the same way; any differences don't emerge from what the characters do but instead are told to us--explicitly--by Card in excruciating internal monologues. Unlike in Ender's Game, where the Battle School children were still unmistakably children, here the fact that most of the chief players are under 20 hardly plays a role in the story. Achilles is a terrible villain; neither terrifying nor sympathetic, he spends the book as a plot device, raising problems that Bean (and his friends) can go in and fix. The character of Peter Wiggin is massacred--massacred!--compared to his depiction in Ender's Game. The second chapter of Ender's Game alone, when Peter nearly kills Ender and then cries by Ender's side afterward, still sends chills down my back; no scene with Peter in Shadow of the Hegemon made him out to be anything other than another plot device.

I know these books predate the Matt Damon Bourne movies, which were casually based on the Robert Ludlum novels. But with their slick pacing and sense of urgency laced with paranoia, they subscribe to much the same race-against-time escapist sensibility. If Shadow of the Hegemon were a movie, it would be shot entirely with hand-held cameras and be edited by someone whose Ritalin was withheld from him until he finished the job.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Okay, so maybe the book isn't that frantic. But while readers who have followed this series from the start may find themselves disappointed to see the whole thing steering towards popcorn entertainment, I kind of found it refreshing that Card was able to deliver such a novel at a point in his career that many fans had begun to believe was inching past its sell-by date. Or perhaps it was simply that, having gotten all of the spiritual angst wrung out of the tale following the exceedingly serious Xenocide and Mind, and riding the wave of renewed goodwill that followed the surprising artistic success of Enders Shadow, Card decided it was time to give Ender fans a plain old-fashioned ripping yarn.

Thing is, he delivered the whole package in Enders Game. So despite its pleasures, Shadow of the Hegemon is yet a shadow of this saga's established greatness.

Before anyone embarks on this series, allow me to give three pointers on what to expect from Cromartie. One: each episode is barely twelve minutes long. Two: every episode moves in the pace no different from a bullet train. Lastly, three: Common sense brings bane to the comedy in the series.

Cromartie High School. A harsh place filled with delinquents, punks, brutes and other riff-raff. A school so rough and tumble that if you drop your pencil on the floor someone will pick it up and eat it. A school so surreal its attendees include a 400-pound gorilla, a tin can robot named Mechazawa and a student known only as Freddie (because of a startling resemblance to a certain lead singer). The short of it: take Azumanga Daioh, replace all the cute schoolgirls with no-good high-school punks, and top it off with a bit of Williams Street-esque bizarre comedy and you've got one of the funniest anime titles, Cromartie High School.

We're introduced to this world through the eyes of a new student, Takeshi Kamiyama. Though up until now Takeshi was largely a good kid, since he's entering one of the roughest high schools in all of Japan he's determined not only to transform himself into a delinquent punk like everyone else, but also to change Cromartie for the better. However, first he's got to prove himself the toughest guy in the class, though he finds the typical methods, fisticuffs and hair bleach (which just makes him look like an idiot) strangely ineffective. Later in the show he takes on the entire school, but this proves easier said than done, at least if Freddie, Mechazawa and the 400-pound gorilla have anything to say about it. Add to that rival schools fighting over turf (and over jokes to use for radio shows), and life isn't going to be easy for young Kamiyama. However, it will be freaking hilarious, as these may be some of the strangest, stupidest thugs ever.

Like I've previously said, just swap out the female-only cast of Azumanga for a male-only cast of shockingly and superbly stupid thugs, and you've got the basic gist of Cromartie. A variety of almost random asides, references and assaults on the fourth wall augment that humor. For example, Kamiyama's opening narration for the second episode of the series addresses how people whine about changes in character design and voice casting in anime adapted from manga and eventually ends with Kamiyama morphing into Piyoko from Digi Charat and even adopting her signature appellation of "pyon" to the end of every sentence. Basically, it's off-the-wall comedy with a heavy of dash of surrealism.

True, each episode lasts no more than twelve minutes, so under most other circumstances the plot would either feel disjointed due to a lack of time to develop things, or resolved in a convenient rush if the episodes are self-contained. This will not apply here because simply put, there is no plot to begin. There’s one purpose to Cromartie, and that is to make the viewers laugh, which it does without any semblance of wit whatsoever in its humor, or a plot to speak of.

Speaking of humor, Cromartie makes use of parodies of other anime titles as the main ingredient to its comedy, and these often make for the punch lines. This is what makes Cromartie a comedy that is unlike other comedies I’ve seen, even if some of the punch lines didn’t always tickle my funny bone. However, at the breakneck pace each episode progresses, the punch lines will just keep coming and the previous one will not seem to matter for long.

Most of the laughter stems from the ridiculously yet hilariously incoherent dialogue shared by the characters in Cromartie. These exchanges and their equally side-splitting outcomes are the result of two common traits shared among all (okay, most) of the characters: firstly that they’re very stupid and secondly that they’re always ready to beat the snot out of someone. Best of all, they do so with stoic expressions on their faces from start to finish.

Don't even try to make sense of it all, just roll with it and let Cromartie High School take you where it will. It has only one aim in mind: to entertain.

I thought that a few of the comedic gags weren’t delivered well, but for the most part they hit the bull’s eye straight on. It may be flawed, but with such a bizarre cast that you just can’t hate, what more can one want? Comedy is basically about delivering laughs, and Cromartie did make me laugh.

“It is the people in the industry who force boundaries onto animation… It’s all about cute girls, robots and explosions, to them. That’s not right. Movies like this [Tokyo Godfathers] exist and work.”

For most people, the anime genre has never represented more than an entertaining avenue for teenage fanboys and girls keen on violence, T&A and hyperkinetic animation. So that is why every once in a while a gem is needed to to clear up any lingering misconceptions about anime.

Enter Tokyo Godfathers.

Tokyo Godfathers offers much more complicated characters and a very poignant plot that is a refreshing change of pace for anime.

Tokyo Godfathers, is a Christmas holiday tale with all the trimmings: a trinity of homeless people, an infant foundling, the glittering lights of a snowy metropolis, Tokyo-cum-Bethlehem. Despite being different from the typical holiday stories, the basic plot remains intact: adversity reigns until the child is found, fate smiles, and love wins the day.

In other words, high melodrama.

BUT! Tokyo Godfathers has good drama, it is unappealing since it features homeless people instead of cute boys or girls.

Furthermore, Tokyo Godfathers is also full of surprises. Laced with screwball comedy and high-speed action, the film encompasses more complex themes than the usual sugarcoated “spirit of Christmas.” It opens on Christmas Eve, as the homeless trio enjoys a modest celebration. Gin is a gruff, middle-aged drunkard tortured by the loss of his family. Hana is a gay former drag queen, still splendid with a powerful maternal instinct. Affectionately known as “Uncle Bag”, she looks after Miyuki, a willful runaway teen.

While searching through a trash heap, they stumble upon an abandoned baby, whom they name Kiyoko ("pure child") and vow to reunite her with her parents. Their quest results in an unbelievably zany series of coincidences, through which each is forced to confront past demons and reckon with the realities of love and forgiveness.

Kon’s weaving of storyline and circumstance is a display of narrative finesse (no loose ends here), but the good fortune pushes hard at the limits of believability. Then again, Tokyo Godfathers is a Christmas movie. Miracles are supposed to happen.

What makes most of these “miracles” bearable is that they are balanced by moments of broad humor. In one brilliant sequence, Gin has been savagely beaten by a youth gang, and lies bleeding in a dark alleyway. As the camera closes in on his battered face, we see a faint golden glow emerge off to the side. The camera pulls back to reveal a radiant angel standing over him. But just as the scene is about to devolve into utter cheesiness, the glow fades, leaving behind a bitchy drag queen in angel costume. Heavenly transcendence is an illusion; earthly salvation takes a humbler form.

Normally animators usually render surrounding objects in less detail than the object of focus. But for this movie, Kon insisted on detail for everything, from the windows on a skyscraper to the creases in a garbage bag. This creates a “hyper-real” vision of the city, making it seem grittier and more tactile. Kon applies a similarly amplified animation style to the characters—bulging eyeballs, outsized mouths, flailing limbs—making their emotions both more humorous and more palpable.

Sitcoms come and go, but it's rare to find a TV show that is consistently fall-off-the-chair funny. Worst Week is that sitcom.

Only a man (or a couple of them) could get paid big bucks in Hollywood to come up with such a lame-o rip-off and perpetuate the fantasy that gorgeous women can't help but to love out-of-shape guys who do everything wrong. And hell, its thanks to them we still catch great shows like Worst Week.

In Worst Week, there's Sam, a guy who knocked up his girlfriend and must win over her wealthy, disapproving parents. Unfortunately, disaster follows Sam, who suffers such horrors as mistaking a cooking pot for a urinal and jokingly telling his girlfriend, ''I'm going to punch you in the face,'' just as her ominous father enters the room. It's a Meet the Parents situation, only much funnier. Bornheimer is the find of the fall season — a stammering, aw-shucksy guy who can get a laugh from just a weird spin on the words ''No? Okay.'' Unlike Ben Stiller's wired energy, which made Parents more tense than funny, Bornheimer absorbs every setback with such a beaten-puppy air that each fresh misery feels ludicrous, rather than merely annoying. Does it work, (worst) week after (worst) week? With Bornheimer, it strangely does. His is a feathery touch on a wrecking-ball comedy.

In the vein of Seinfeld, Friends and Two and a Half Men, the cast for Worst Week was brilliantly assembled. Kyle Bornheimer lays Sam Briggs, a magazine editor trying hard to please his in-laws. Bornheimer’s portrayal of Sam is blessed with spot-on physical comedic timing and a vulnerability that compels viewers to root for him.

Nancy Lenehan and Kurtwood Smith (popularly remembered as the irascible dad on That 70’s Show) are priceless as the in-laws who repeatedly foil Sam’s overtures. Rounding out the primary cast is Erinn Hayes. She plays the love of Sam’s life and is the ideal “straight man” for this always-on-a-collision-course clan.

Seinfeld is known as a sitcom juggernaut, yet it wasn’t until its fourth season that it generated a sizable audience or cracked the top thirty in the Nielsen ratings.

Today, networks are reluctant to nurture shows in this manner, and without network backing, promising programs may not have enough time to find an audience before the plug is pulled. This is the fate Worst Week is in danger of suffering if CBS does not choose to cultivate this humorous piece of work.

A summertime consecutive airing of the first season, followed by a second season premier may be the answer to broadening the viewer base. Millions have yet to discover Worst Week, but those who have are filling message boards with their admiration.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Worst Week brightens the day for anyone having a worst week of his or her own, and fans hope that CBS will do the right thing and create a season 2 for this fresh and entertaining show.

Why did 7 8 9? To make room for Season 2 of Haruhi Suzumiya!!!

Finally, after I've gone through the overdue episode 1 of Haruhi Season 2, life feels brand new once more! But what urges me to watch anime, you say? I want to see wondrous sights not available in the real world, in stories where myth and dreams are set free to play. Animation opens that possibility, because it is freed from gravity and the chains of the possible. Realistic films show the physical world; animation shows its essence. Animated films are not copies of "real movies," are not shadows of reality, but create a new existence in their own right. True, a lot of animation is insipid, and insulting even to the children it is made for. But great animation can make the mind sing.

Ahem, for the uninitiated...

Many have dubbed The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya the “must-see anime of 2006", and for good reason. An anime that displays crystal animation, an out-of-this-world concept, and an all-star cast of lovable oddities, Haruhi mustn’t be passed up for any reason whatsoever.

Reviewing Haruhi is quite difficult, seeing as how its magnitude is very difficult to portray in just a few paragraphs. The animation is A+ quality. Many scenes left me quite impressed, looking forward to the next episodes and the glossy visuals they’d bring. Each scene seems carefully thought out, which is phenomenal, especially in regards to an anime. However, one cannot forget (even if one tries) about the storyline. It’s an over-the-top extravaganza that mixes Haruhi’s unique brand of wit with concepts of philosophy. And, even in the end, it all comes to a pleasant close. This is a feat rarely accomplished in anime, especially in a series as experimental as this one.

Due to popular demand (death threats, to be more accurate), I have decided to dedicate a long-winded review for Haruhism. (See previous post.)

"Why live in the world when you can live in your head?"

A lot of people who claim to out-and-out hate anime usually have a fairly good reason for that: a lot of anime is derivative of other, more succesfull anime. Granted, this is just like any industry, where the cool thing is immediately cloned and recycled over and over until its neither fashionable nor in vogue. (DISCUSS.) If there is anything special about this practice as it applies to anime, it's likely the specialty aspect of the product, that it comes from japan, that it's animated, that it contains identifable style characteristics. To the uninitiated, all magical girls, for instance, may look alike. A Sailor Scout is as good as a Magical Knight Rayearth, etc. Hell, to the initiated it can all get a little bit hazy.

Every once in a while, though, something truly special comes along, an anime series that not only sets itself apart content-wise, but that does so by taking familiar genres and twisting them into imaginative new contortions. Think of how FLCL warped post-Evangelion giant robot conventions into a hormonal metaphor for teenage angst, and you might start to get an idea of what The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya does to all kinds of shoujo fantasy subgenres.

An anime series made specifically for otaku usually fares no better than moderately well, as targeting it at whatever niche market it panders to inherently limits its potential appeal. Every so often, though, one finds just the right tone, or puts together just the right combination of gimmicks, to break beyond its limitations and become a smashing success. In 2006 that series was the megahit The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzimiya (hereafter MoHS), whose intrinsic oddity, bold characters, strong technical merits, and boatload of fan-pleasing gimmickry have won it immense popularity (or notoriety, depending on your point of view) in fan communities on both sides of the Pacific. Even its marketing campaign has been quite far off the beaten path, but one would expect nothing less from one of the most eccentric titles in recent years.

MoHS wastes no time in revealing its eccentricities. Episode 00, which starts off the series, is actually composed of a grainy, deliberately amateurish film which features key cast members playing out a disjointed and horribly clichéd story narrated in off-the-cuff fashion by the one main character we don't see in it; all part of a project made for a school festival, we later discover, and the reactions of the cast members to seeing the completed film are classic. To open a series with something so deliberately bad that it's funny may be risky, but it certainly caught the attention of fandom. The real story actually begins with the second episode, which is numbered Episode 01. Though a person could actually entirely skip the first episode and not miss anything important to the plot, the novelty of the experience would be lost, as would an appreciation for the cleverness of the foreshadowing used in it; one of the conceits of the first episode, which only becomes apparent later on, is that the roles the key cast members play in the film are actually uncannily close to their true natures. Another oddity came in the fourth broadcast episode, which originally jumped ahead to episode 7.

Some of the series' charm also comes from the way it skewers assorted anime conventions and fandom peculiarities without exactly parodying them. It toys with the current Japanese otaku fascination with moe in the same way that a cat plays with a ball of yarn, addresses the “girl with glasses” fetish in two different ways, and unabashedly puts its two female leads in bunny costumes for the explicit purpose of exploiting sex appeal to gain attention. Its use of fan service carries a different feel from most other series, partly because it does not resort to the stereotypical tawdry reactions normally seen in more risqué anime comedies.

Most importantly, it revels in finding clever ways to explain the inclusion of fan-fave elements like psychics, aliens, time-travelers, and (for all practical purposes) gods in a normal high school setting. There are even hints of an underlying romance, as Haruhi's actions subtly suggest that her deigning to carry on conversations with the completely normal Kyon, and getting him involved in her schemes, may have deeper implications.

For all its slick use of story oddities, though, the central characters are the heart of the series' appeal. For decades anime titles have been replete with bold, assertive female leads that buck Japanese societal norms, but the title character here is in a class by herself. Rather than rely on partial insanity, hyperactivity, or stupidity, as most such heroines do, Haruhi achieves her dominance through sheer force of personality. She isn't crazy at all, as there is always a method to her seeming madness; she just has a unique world view, the audacity and aggressiveness to ruthlessly pursue it without being at all concerned with what others think, and apparently gets bored easily. Kyon, who also narrates, is at least as much of a delight as the low-key and somewhat cynical young man who increasingly finds himself mixed up in all the weirdness surrounding Haruhi and seems to lack the means (and possibly desire?) to extricate himself from it. He gets to see the big picture that Haruhi misses, which provides a window onto Haruhi's world for the viewer to watch and experience. Other key characters, though they may seem stereotypical, hold their own surprises, such as the placid, soft-spoken bookworm Yuki, who delivers onto Kyon a mass of startling revelations; much-suffering Mikuru, who actually has her own secret agenda despite appearing to be totally at Haruhi's mercy; and congenial Itsuki, who actually is a “mysterious transfer student” because of his own ulterior motives. A couple of other characters who have appeared so far also have hidden identities, though they are not revealed in the early episodes.

Though many aspects of the series may provoke discussion, it is still, at heart, a humorous otaku funfest (albeit an extremely good one), and is best appreciated if one does not lose sight of that. Haruhi is nothing short of a roller coaster joyride. It offers many unforgettable moments that you’ll cherish, as well as times where you’ll come close to dying of laughter. With its fresh sense of humor, stylized picture and plot, and characters you’ll absolutely never forget, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya may very well be the anime that defined 2006.

As titles of apocalyptic blockbusters go, Terminator Salvation has just the right touch of post-traumatic (and post-grammatical) doomsday cachet. It certainly sounds classier than T4: Attack of the Robots, which would have been more accurate. Even without Arnie, the latest entry into the Terminator saga is a gritty and exciting rollercoaster ride that is about as good as mindless escapist fare gets. An improvement on T3, the film manages to honor what came before without simply replicating it. As with any Hollywood blockbuster the script has some laughably bad moments (like attempts at romantic subplots are laughable and painful to watch. The final act is quite contrived and an unnecessary cameo jars with the tone of the rest of the film) but overall it’s just plain fun.

The fourth film in the series picks up a few years after T3 with a post apocalyptic world ruled by robots intent on removing the human race from the face of the earth. The remaining survivors have banded together to form a resistance of sorts guided by the one and only John Connor - Christian Bale doing his Batman voice again. This time around it seems that the robots are much smarter than Sarah Connor ever predicted and the end of humanity may be closer than expected.

Rather than simply play like a greatest hits of Terminator moments, the film tries to mark new ground for the series. Director McG has created a dark and intense movie that does not let up. The action is nonstop and the majority of the set pieces are worthy of the Terminator legacy.

Much of the problem lies within the film's screenplay: the story simply feels unfocused, as if the screenwriters weren't able to decide whether they wanted to continue following the John Connor plotline that's been the focus of the series from the onset, or branch out to follow Marcus Wright on his self-loathing mission of cybernetic vengeance. Ambition is a key component of any successful genre film, but in order to yield something truly great that ambition has to be focused. Here, the scriptwriters and director McG seem all too eager to gloss over any of the really interesting concepts in favor of having Connor do battle with Terminator sea monsters, or having Wright engage in a Road Warrior-style showdown with Terminator motorcycles.

Forget exploring the complex emotions a human would feel after discovering that he's been turned into a machine; a few lines of dialogue will suffice and give us a chance to get to the (yawn) final factory battle more quickly. It feels like a cop-out because it is. We've seen this all before, and done much better.

Yes, Terminator Salvation is an action film, but the action had better be pretty exhilarating if you're going to favor thrills over plot, and with the exception of one breathtaking sequence in a helicopter, the action in Terminator Salvation is astonishingly dull. In Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, McG went so wild with action and special effects that he essentially created a live-action cartoon. Perhaps a little dose of that outrageous energy may have gone a long way in keeping the Terminator series feeling fresh and exciting; instead, it feels like he has purposefully reigned in that penchant for hyper-stylized violence in an attempt to be taken more seriously, and the result is action scenes that are filled with movement, yet devoid of excitement.

But it's a case of diminishing returns. “Salvation” so keeps its characters at arm's length that after a while it really doesn't matter what happens to them.

Is it just me, or has there been a drastic and slightly unsettling change in the way filmmakers approach the horror genre in recent years? I'm not talking about the almost monthly release of remakes of classic and not-so-classic titles, more the way that everything has a music video look to it and genuine scares are replaced by excessive gore? I know this is far from an original complaint and horror fans have been making this argument for years, but after sitting through Return to House on Haunted Hill, I'm sorry to say the only genuine scare I had was when a piece of the chocolate I was eating went down the wrong way causing me to momentarily choke. Don't worry I'm fine now, it was my own fault, but the film itself gave me nothing, nada, zip.

Still, a lack of scares needn't be fatal if the film can still manage to entertain on some other level and this, I'm afraid it frequently struggles to do. What we have here is a haunted house movie by the numbers, a few inventive kills, and a three-way lesbian scene where two of the participants in the ménage-a-trois are ghosts. Classy!

The film sets out to explain the reason for the evil forces that control Hill House, this turns out to be the Baphomet Idol. A cursed artifact with corrupting powers, it was this idol that consumed Dr. Richard Benjamin Vannacutt when the house was still a mental hospital, resulting in his ghastly practices, leaving a steady stream of mutilated corpses. These very same victims now haunt the corridors of Hill House, brutally killing anyone who dares enter and using staples of the J-Horror genre (long hair covering all but one eye, odd or jerky movements) in an attempt to scare the viewer and failing miserably. While I can't say the film was completely horrible (it's certainly watchable), it just didn't add anything new to the horror genre or do anything particularly well—apart from the aforementioned ménage-a-trois.

In this sequel, a bunch of people end up back at the house/asylum looking for the Baphomet Idol, which is some kind of valuable (and, we discover, evil) effigy associated with the Knights Templar. No one is actually making a Return to House on Haunted Hill, since the lone survivor of that little foray blows her brains out right at the start of this film, and it's left to her sister to battle the forces of darkness and generally act like an idiot.

Yes, act like an idiot. Now, I'm familiar with that whole horror-movie theory, how if people didn't act like idiots, they'd use logic to survive and there'd be no movie, but the group on display here ratchets up the idiot quotient to uncomfortable levels. Camp Crystal Lake is a Mensa colony by comparison.

These characters do unfathomable things before even setting foot in the Asylum on Haunted Hill, including kidnapping the editor of an apparently high-profile magazine because her sister might (or might not) have told her something (or not). They kidnap her at gunpoint! With two muscle-bound, ex-professional-wrestling goons! And a blank-faced-and-horny lesbian! When we see this lineup of characters, we're not only tipped off as to who our first three victims will be, but we're reassured that our lust for a bit of girl flesh will be quenched by an encounter with the nubile dead.

Once at the house/asylum, we find there are basically two teams: the mercenary baddies, led by Desmond, who are there to find the idol (pronounced "bath mat" by the meatheads) and sell it for $5 million; and the non-baddies, led by Dr. Richard Hammer, who's been searching for the blasted Baphomet for 20 years and thinks it belongs in a museum. Except for the three goons, everyone has some kind of relationship with everyone else, and if this were a movie in which character and plot mattered, these relationships might lead to something.

But this movie is concerned with showing gruesome demises and lots of quick cutting. Much of the action takes place in the basement of the asylum/house, so everything has that bleak and nasty industrial look. The supernatural stuff is ridiculouslous; people are randomly transported back in time to the horrible heyday of the asylum, while others just as randomly escape this fate. Since ghosts are not inhibited by time and space, they can pop up anywhere, but they still insist on chasing people rather than just popping up in front of them.

It's a shame this is all so shoddily done, because there could have been a fun movie here. The idea of a treasure hunt in a haunted house—not the steamy industrial basement of a haunted asylum—holds a lot of possibilities: different surprises in each room, outlandish clues, conniving characters, shifting loyalties, and so on.

Count me disappointed. Not as if I had any right to be, of course. The movie after all is called Return to House on Haunted Hill -- a title which, while evocative, doesn't even begin to sound grammatically correct.