Showbits

In sharp contrast to last week's colorful Flower Warfare, this week's Summer Short is a film whose humor and tone is not nearly as stark as its black-and-white imagery. But then, it's rather hard to take seriously a romantic musical comedy set in a men's bathroom. You'll soon be sold on Rent-a-Person:

Given that some of my favorite films are Office Space and Stranger than Fiction, it's no wonder I like this short: it's almost as if either of those were adapted to a musical. Despite that, there's not much to dissect here — Rent-a-Person is a silly, fun tale about how even nice guys don't have to sleep alone. There's some attempt at character evolution as our hero thinks he can substitute money for women (or use one to get another) before realizing his life is as empty as before. But even if that arc proves futile, it's encouraging to see him recognize his life's potential and find the motivation to actually do something about it. Too many people are satisfied with the mundane and subpar without taking advantage of their natural talents to realize the good fortune that could be theirs.

Coming next week: the exciting conclusion!

Just as Kungfu Bunny melded live action with animation, today's short crosses genres by having elements of both action and comedy — and, like Paintballing, it demonstrates a unique approach to violence. Enjoy Flower Warfare:

I enjoyed Flower Warfare not for the plot or the acting, both of which are paper-thin, but for the visuals and the exuberance. Being shot with flowers is apparently no less fatal (or surprising) in this short than in real life, but the bright colors and renewal of life make it seem so much less regrettable. That's not to say violence should be trivialized — but there's a big difference between how it's portrayed in Space Invaders and Mortal Kombat, for example, or The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance and Saw.

A similar short uses armaments made of cardboard, but the militaristic approach to the short makes it far less fun. By contrast, the Flower Warfare actors are obviously enjoying themselves and don't get caught up in the dark, brooding, fatalistic nature usually involved in such territorial encounters. The closing double rainbow, though gratuitous, underscores this light-hearted atmosphere.

(Hat tip to Epic Win FTW)

Inception has been out long enough, and enough people have formed their own opinions, that I now feel confident expressing mine: I didn't like it. I would think that sci-fi fans would find it unoriginal, and other theatergoers would find it confusing. Popular opinion has proven me wrong, yet I'll attempt to defend my position, though it will likely cause me more nightmares than Inception did its cast.

This summer blockbuster stars Leonardo DiCaprio as an expatriate whose job is to enter people's dreams and steal confidential data. The reverse — planting an idea in someone's mind and making it seem organic — is nearly impossible, but he accepts such an assignment knowing that it could clear his criminal record and allow him to return to the States and see his children (who he apparently never considers having flown to France). He enlists Ellen Page and teaches her the subtle rules of creating a dreamscape: basing it on other's realities but never your own, so you know what's real and what's not; creating a personal totem that serves an indicator of dream or not; how dying in a dream simply wakes you up, but if someone in the real world needs to wake you up, they need to convey a "kick" — a sense of falling.

It sounds like a neat science-fiction plot, but Inception can't decide if it wants to play to the action crowd or the sci-fi one. As a member of the latter, I found many of the film's devices hackneyed. Is this a dream, or is it reality? The Thirteenth Floor, Dark City, and ExistenZ asked the same question. I suspect the director, Christopher Nolan of The Dark Knight and Memento fame, was inspired by these and other media, though to suggest its origin lies with Scrooge McDuck is a bit far-fetched.

The ability to create and inhabit fictional worlds was also explored in both films and The Matrix, except inhabitants of the matrix could achieve awareness of the nature of reality and use it to their advantage. Inception's dreams are remarkably lifelike, where people put on suits, go to work, then get a drink at the bar to unwind, with one scene flowing naturally into the next. Since DiCaprio's team is often tasked with lulling their victims into a false sense of security, it is vital that the world seem realistic, such that the nature of the trap is not revealed. In that respect, the dullness of these dreams makes sense. But in moments of urgency, we rarely see DiCaprio use the dreamscape to his advantage. There are two instances of one person disguising himself as another, and only one of an Escher-like trap into which a dreamer lulls an enemy. But we see no one leaping over tall buildings, pulling bazookas out of their pockets, or — if you really wanted to make this dream-like — finding talking elephants in their closets. It's not what I would expect from lucid dreaming.

I also failed to understand how multiple people could share the same dream. One person going into one other's seems plausible, but the film usually had a bank of dreamers networked into each other by nothing more complicated than IVs. Just before they'd fall asleep, they'd ask amongst themselves, "Whose dream are we going into this time?" and, without rhyme or reason, one person would pipe up, "Mine", with no parallel action to suggest how or why.

The final, prolonged sequence of events features multiple layers of dreams. In each dream, time supposedly moves faster than in the dream before (or above) it (though we never see days turn into weeks or months as they suggest). In this sequence, we see a van falling off a bridge, providing its sleeping occupants with a waking kick. It takes about a half-hour of dream-time for the van to fall, as we're reminded every five minutes by a slow-motion sequence of its progress. I understand the temporal mechanics of this technique, but the tension of the moment is insufficient to sustain the suspense over such a long period of time. Slow motion is intended to bring attention to a brief, singular moment, as bullet time did in The Matrix. To have it last thirty minutes causes it to lose momentum, so to speak. Compounding the situation is that, throughout this climax, the action sequences aren't terribly exciting — though one fight scene in a hotel hallway with variable gravity was definitely cool.

One thing Inception consistently does well is pace its plot. As the film progresses, nuggets of DiCaprio's background are slowly revealed to the audience, each one elaborating on what we already know while raising new questions, until finally, all is revealed. Though the acting throughout these revelations is impeccable, the story itself didn't engage me enough to be enraptured by the film's indefinite and unoriginal conclusion. Friends tell me they went to see the film multiple times to see everything they missed. Though it's true that any film has details that are overlooked in an initial viewing, just like the first time I saw 12 Monkeys or Memento, I didn't walk out of Inception feeling I'd missed anything mission-critical.

I confess that I went into this film petulantly biased: there were other films I wanted to see, and the group I was with voted to see none of them. I tried to keep an open mind and let Inception in to work its magic, but I found it somewhat less than dreamy and not up to the creative and inspired storytelling of which Christopher Nolan has previously demonstrated himself capable.

Most of Showbits' live-action summer shorts are either dark or funny. Few try to be either touching or poignant. Paper or Plastic makes that effort, but rather than run long and actually have a moral, it goes for an easy ending:

I was struck by this film at first, as it puts on the surface the "different" that we all feel inside. Being pretty is hard. Being in college is hard. Hell, being alive is hard. Many of us suffer in silence, but this story's protagonist can't hide what makes her different. Whether she's doing it as a courtesy to her friends (if any), or to protect herself, the concept of living life with a bag on one's head is both funny and sad.

The first few scenes made me wonder how the actress would convey emotion. On Star Trek: The Next Generation, LeVar Burton couldn't use his expressive eyes yet still managed the full range of sentiments. When Paper or Plastic's protagonist started magically changing bags when a real-life scenario would've afforded her no such opportunity, I felt a bit cheated.

The ending was also a letdown. Perhaps it would've been too cliché for the boy to have wooed her out from under her shell, revealing her to be the beautiful young woman she is. And though true love persists "in good times and in bad", I believe it should not simply prompt equilibrium within the couple, but also inspire each person to be his or her best. Is that the metaphor the title is suggesting?

I did enjoy the short's soundtrack — but the credits include none for the music, leaving me unsure where to find more of it.

Maybe I'm reading too much into this film, and it's supposed to be just a cute love story. What do you think?

Most of the films seen here this summer are either live-action or animated. Today, those two media merge in a comedic short that is the third and best in its series. Please enjoy Kungfu Bunny 3:

This cartoon's theme of turning one's loved one into a weapon is reminiscent of "Family Dog", the animated episode of the Steven Spielberg anthology series Amazing Stories, in which the family's efforts to turn their pet into a security system met with equally disastrous results. Won't dog owners, Elmer Fudd, and their ilk ever learn that sacrificing what's good in life to hurt another only ends up hurting oneself? But then, if they ever did learn that lesson, we bystanders would be poorer their wonderfully screwball antics. So maybe things are fine just the way they are.

Just as There She Is!! was a demonstration of Korean art, Kungfu Bunny 3 is Chinese in origin, though both films defy what foreigners might expect from that region's style. It's good to mix things up now and then and be reminded that not everything is anime.

Few actors and directors are talented at multiple genres. Michael Bay, for example, is known for directing explosive action films that lately have not been very good; conversely, James Cameron was as skilled at the character-driven science fiction of Terminator 2 as he was the sappy romance of Titanic.

For this reason and others, it is often effective for a person or team to choose a speciality to focus on and master, building a reputation for quality in their chosen field. But from a creative perspective, such dedication can be boring, and the temptation to flex one's artistic muscles is ever-present. Still, I never expected the creators of the ludicrously funny Star Wars satire series Chad Vader to investigate the horror genre, resulting in the excellent Life and Death of a Pumpkin:

This film won multiple awards at the Chicago Horror Film Festival in October 2006, a timeline that places the short's airing at around the same time Chad Vader made his own debut. I'm guessing Blame Society Productions, the team behind both shows, was at the time experimenting to find their niche and eventually settled on the comedic styles of the imperial day shift manager. But the above short demonstrates their talent at a diverse range of cinematic stylings. The macabre perspective, tremulous voice, and bittersweet climax remind me of another award-winning horror short, Unloved, which has also been featured here on Showbits. Among those qualities is the occasional effort at injecting Blame Society's trademark humor into the pumpkin's monologue, suggesting that the film is not meant to be taken seriously — yet it works whether you view it as as genuine and satirical horror.

Who are some of the actors or directors that you have found to be as effective as Blame Society at crossing genres?

Today's summer short is another classic, this one from 2004. It's about finding love not only where it's least expected, but also when it's least desired. Please enjoy There She Is!!

This video by SamBakZa (English translation) is the first in a five-part series. I personally prefer the plot and soundtrack of the second video, "Cake Dance":

This continuation of the first episode shows how quickly a relationship can develop. When a romance is new, its participants feel like they're engaged in something that's never been experienced by anyone alive. They unabashedly dedicate themselves to celebrating this new experience, and "Cake Dance" demonstrates that level of devotion that trumps all societal pressures and norms, and that taboos often become less stigmatic as love becomes more prevalent — all while being a good music video, too.

In that this animated world is populated by bunnies and kitties, it reminds me of Bill Holbrook's Kevin & Kell, supposedly the first ever Web comic about a wolf and a rabbit who meet through an online dating service. I followed the dead tree edition of the strip for some years, and though it effectively focused its humor at Internet geeks, the characters' backstories and plots eventually grew too convoluted for me.

What short videos have you found that celebrate love?

I don't go to the movies very often these days, and I certainly wasn't going to make an exception for something called Hot Tub Time Machine. Science-fiction fan that I am, I thought this film looked more like the generic "aging hipsters acting like college brats" film that you'd more often find starring Will Ferrell. Imagine my surprise when the film actually got good reviews — including from Roger Ebert, who suggested it succeeds beyond any expectations suggested by the title. With its recent release on DVD, I decided to give it a shot.

After some introductions, the film sends four friends back to a ski valley they last visited as high school seniors. The nostalgic quartet is composed of John Cusack as down-on-his-luck (is there any other kind of John Cusack?) Adam, Craig Robinson (The Office's Darryl Philbin) as discouraged and whipped Nick Webber, Rob Corddry as alcoholic, sexaholic Lou, and Clark Duke as the sheltered Jacob. The four are an eclectic mix with different responses to and advice for every situation, ensuring each encounter they have is a lively one.

There is some genuine camaraderie among the four, as this film is more than a sexual romp (though it's certainly that as well). Each time traveller suffers from regret not only how things turned out twenty years ago, but also the pattern of life choices that have led them to be miserable in the present. Rather than have company for their misery, the former best friends have drifted apart, losing the support and dreams they had for themselves and each other as kids. Returned to 1986, they hope they can recapture that passion and bring it back with them, at the same time that they are forced to face the beginning of their downfall.

The option of avoidance is withdrawn by Chevy Chase, who plays a mysterious repairman who encourages the travellers to not change the timeline. Unlike Don Knotts in Pleasantville, Chase's purpose and motivations are unknown. The four men nonetheless vacillate between sticking to history and avoiding unpleasant situations, even though there is no motivation to listen to Chase or consequence for not doing so. The struggle between doing what they want versus what they're "supposed" to do gives the film some tension, even if it is superficial.

HTTM's temporal mechanics are also paper-thin, with an ending that wouldn't hold up to any fan versed in science fiction. Yet the film does not exist in a vacuum, with several devices that work quite well. For example, the paradox of the four running into their younger selves is eliminated when they discover that they have effectively "quantum leaped" into their 18-year-old bodies, appearing as adults to each other (and the audience) but as kids to the residents of 1986. At times the film reminded me of nothing of much as Back to the Future — a parallel made intentional through several references, not the least of which is a recurring character played by Crispin Glover, aka George McFly. Plus, any movie with an Apple II is okay by me.

HTTM is a film that I can recommend without reservation, but with caveats: some of the humor is very base and even disgusting, and you have to be in the right mood (or have sufficiently low standards) to enjoy or even tolerate it. The movie's actors and director obviously did not take themselves very seriously, and it's important that the audience do the same to maximize their enjoyment. I watched the unrated DVD version of the film; without having seen the theatrical release, I would guess the differences are in the quantity of female nudity.