All The Geek Movie Reviews You Need On A Monday Afternoon ARE HERE!

While normal people spent their Labour Day Weekend texting each other about mulch or wondering if they couldn't get another round of golf in before they head off to see their mistresses, I watched little films that could. Films that were made for very little, with a very specific audience in mind, and can never truly aspire to be anything other than a cult favourite.

In short, my kind of movies.

The first was a British construction entitled FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT TIME TRAVEL. I had a trailer linked, but it was extremely fucking twee and gave too much away about the film. It's about three losers who discover a time traveling pub. It stars some familiar faces if you watch THE IT CROWD and BEING HUMAN, and it's also surprisingly fun. It's also clever, and if you're a time travel addict like myself, you will only hate yourself until you've seen it. Most importantly, it's fun and light for people who like to read books as a pasttime. Others may find it confusing, or simply turn it off because the actors aren't American.

The other l'il film was DEFENDOR. Granted, this looks like the recipe for Bad. A man tries to be a real superhero without having any money or, apparently, common sense. But I thought it worked fairly well. The cast is good, from Woody Harrelson as the lead, and a familiar assemblage of Canadian actors who can always be relied upon, like Clark Johnston and Elias Koteas (can any other Canadian actor play Slimy Creep better than him?) Kat Dennings is also good, but doesn't get enough screen time. Her forte is humour and deadpan delivery, and casting her as the Hooker With A Heart Of Gold Somewhere Deep Inside seems a bit of a waste. Like SCOTT PILGRIM Pilgrim, DEFENDOR doesn't hide that it takes place in Canada (it was filmed in Hamilton), but they only refer to the city by one of its many nicknames--The Hammer. But we do have the Hamilton Spectator on view, and a court room scene is clearly of the Ontario variety.

The script is also a surprise. It isn't cheesy, or God forbid, wacky. It's just a good, solid, little film that rewards your time spent watching it. And it takes place in Canada, with the apparently requisite Metric song on the soundtrack.

Right. Now to see if I can get a tee off on the back nine with Tiger...

Comics I Done Read: August 20-22, 2010

Mr. Southwell says he misses my comic reviews, so I thought I'd oblige the old man and pen some thoughts on the money wasting collection of panels and colours I still feel compelled to buy and not steal off torrents like the rest of the goddamned world.

These are not up-to-date, but just what I've got to on The Pile.

AVENGERS #2

I'm not a fan of John Romita's current art style, but I am a fan of Bendis' writing and general chattiness. I wasn't overjoyed to see Wonder Man looking all purply and pissed off on the cover, since I have never been a fan of the guy. I'm just not a fan of heroes that are specific only to teams, who are not strong enough to have their own books and/or are just not compelling on their own. It's like they're riding the coattails of all the other heroes who have earned the right to be in a company's major Big Team Book. Hello Wonder Man! Hello Wasp! Hello Red Tornado--no, wait, I kinda like him.

The story is saved by having Kang and some weird ass time travel hoodoo going on, which I'm always up for. There's a passable two page spread that shows a whack of alternate Marvel Universes that gave me a few minutes of pointing and going 'oooh, so they put him in!' But Wonder Man's asinine attack and the appearance of certain cosmic villains at the end of the book felt a little contrived. I mean, I know they're the Avengers and they have to fight big ass monsters, but....meh.

DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS #1

This is a one buck teaser for IDW's upcoming Dungeons and Dragons ongoing coming this fall. It's divided into two halfs--one is a quick adventure with the team we'll see in the ongoing book, and the other is a taste of a Dark Sun mini IDW will also be putting out, in conjunction with Hasbro's push of all things Dark Sun as of late.

The Dark Sun story comes off a little thin, and didn't really inspire me to seek out any more of it. But the opening Dungeons and Dragons story was quite a bit of fun. The team here seems to finally get what makes D&D fun--it's not overwrought drama, it's not people speaking in thees and thous--it's fun, goofy storytelling. Writer John Rogers keeps everything light and witty, and Andrea De Vito's art is perfect for such a tale. I just felt that after years of other companies trying to do a successful D&D comic--and failing--Rogers nailed it in only ten pages. Looking forward to seeing what this team can do with a monthly book.

ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #13

This book hasn't exactly been an example of high tension storytelling of late. I keep picking it up because of Bendis, who I think writes Spider-Man better than anyone else today. David Lafuente's art has also grown on me over the months. The story in this issue makes an attempt to ramp up the excitement a bit, with a team of Chameleons (!) having managed to accidentally kidnap Peter Parker and discover who he is. Now, a shapechanger is impersonating Parker and is robbing New York blind as Spider-Man while Peter is handcuffed to J. Jonah Jameson in the usual abandoned warehouse. All the work Spider-Man did in improving his name throughout the tidal wave is now swirling down the toilet, and Aunt May makes a decision to save her nephew.

I'm curious to see where this will go. I can't see a Reset button being pressed here, and even though we've seen this before (New York Hates Spidey But Really He's A Hero!)some bass lines never get old. At least, if the person playing it makes it his own, and I trust Bendis will do that.

JUGHEAD COMICS #202

In an attempt to do something different, Archie Comics now has Jughead working as a sort of P.I. Yes, you heard me right. Apparently, Jughead is going through a crime fiction phase, wearing a trench coat and narrating his life like a Mickey Spillane novel. Of course, if you do that in Riverdale, people will come to you to solve crimes.

The crime here has to do with a stolen invention, and anyone over the age of eight will know who did it by page 4. It's Archie Comics doing what they do--a light story where no one really gets hurt, and it being a Jughead story, the big reveal at the end has to include food, which of course Jughead finds delicious.

The only other thing to note is that now, in 2010, Dilton has forgone his thick black glasses for more stylish, square frames. And did I mention that Midge now has several piercings? Riverdale is cool, dog.

When Geeks Get Grumpy

It's hot, I'm old, I've had four hours sleep, and my wife is watching CASTLE so I can't play any damn video games. So the internet is going to feel my rage.

Hodgepodge of hate on deck!

1. PEOPLE WHO SEE BOOKS AND READING AS SOMETHING THEY MEAN TO DO, BUT ARE TOO BUSY RIGHT NOW

Please, fuck off. I do not want you to look at the magazine or book I have in my hand and see that as an excuse to tell me how you don't have time to read anymore because you have to take your kids to soccer practice, piano lessons or the abortion clinic and/or are just too damn tired to read when all your Important Work in your life is done. Funny how you seem to all have time to watch every NFL game that's aired or to drink a 24 every weekend. Weird.

2. PEOPLE WHO DON'T APPRECIATE HOW AWESOME DOGS ARE

I saw a woman today trudge her way out of her apartment with a small poodle in tow. She walked down the small laneway to the sidewalk, a space of about forty feet. She then turned onto the sidewalk, walked six steps down, then stopped.

"Okay, that's enough. Back inside." And she turned back towards the apartment, her bare feet slapping on the cement. The dog looked wistfully around herself, then trotted back towards the apartment.

"Really?" I said, surprised I said it out loud. "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?" I said even louder.

She didn't turn around. Which is probably a good thing, because I don't think what I would have said would have helped the world inch closer towards universal peace and understanding.

3. I'M NOT YOUR GEEK FRIEND

I have two people in my ever diminishing circle of friends who have made the mistake of saying that I'm their 'geek friend'. Not that I'm geeky, which I don't mind, even if Doctor Laura called me that. No, I'm their 'geek friend' when they want to talk about geek things, or want to know what is going on in the geek world.


Again, fuck off. It's like saying, 'Oh, this is my handjob girlfriend,' or 'This is the guy I call when I want to get my car fixed for free." It illustrates the size of their ego, and of how I exist simply to fulfill a specific need for them. I often imagine these people have calendars beside their phones, with each day of the week being assigned to a certain 'adjective' friend, with a notebook alongside to make helpful notes. These conversations will consist of said friend asking three or four questions regarding the person's particular interest, then the friend will then take over the conversation and talk about him or herself for twenty five minutes.

I have experienced this once too fucking often.

And of course, there's always....oh, wait, CASTLE's over.

Twice In One Day

So I saw Scott Pilgrim twice in one day. I don't think I've ever done *anything* fun twice in one day, except maybe complain and feel sorry for myself. So, ACHIEVEMENT!

I don't feel compelled to add my praise to the film, other to say that it fit right inside my soul like a lost puzzle piece. It clicked with the reassuring finality of something I didn't know I was missing. I saw it first at the Rainbow Cinemas with the L.A. Mood screening, alongside those two strangers I do internet radio with, then headed out into the refined wilds of Masonville to see the 4:00 show at Silver City. Staggering out of the film, I then zombie like went to buy the soundtrack.

As I stumbled into HMV, a young woman at the counter with bright gold eyeshadow saw the CD I was about to purchase.

"Have you seen the movie?" she asked.

"Twice today," I said.

"Oh. Is it that good?"

I think I must have been thinking of something in 8-bit, so I just mumbled some sort of mumbly affirmation.

"Have you seen it?" I asked.

"No, but I want to. I love the comics. I love that he's from London."

She then gave me the sort of look 25 year old women give men in their late forties who also read the same comics they do--part sadness, part fear, part dismissal--and went back to being young.

So to home, my head ringing with the film the way my ears did post-Slayer. As Ninja giggled over the film, I tried to purge my uppper consciousness with a little cheerful Lovecraft, mixing the joy of overwrought prose and the liberal use of words like 'eldrtich' and 'lurking horror' to the pop culture morass in my head.



Not surprisingly, I had nightmares about schools, where I wandered empty hallways wearing mirror shades.

This morning, I woke with a realization: that someone, somewhere is undoubtedly writing SCOTT PILGRIM VS. CTHULU. If not, they damn well should be.

It's Never Too Late For Too Human

I'm of that generation who is still amazed by technology. (I think the generation before mine just ignores it, and the one before them still thinks it's all a trick perpetuated by the fucking Commies.)

For example, last night I was playing my beloved White Box of Dreams, when a message popped up from my dear friend, David. We cast the spell that creates an XBox Party, and within seconds we're talking over headphones while we played our respective games. Yes, kids today take that for granted, then start bitching about sound quality and drop offs, but I'm still at isn'tthisawesome? I mean, I'm playing a game in my house and he's playing a game in his house and we're talking? HOLY FUCK!

So, way too late last night, David and both fired up TOO HUMAN and did some multiplayer. I haven't played this game in almost a year. It's not that I didn't care for it, but it fell to the Creeping Death. That is, like most gamers, if I put a game down for more than two weeks, (usually because of that always perfect New Shiny Game) a tinge of invisible moss begins to grow upon it, and finally it becomes obscured, fading away into the background like a forgotten temple of wonder. Because usually, a new wondrous thing has arrived, and that too shall be loved and adored, until it too suffers the Creeping Death.

It took David to get me to take a machete to the moss and vines, and rediscover it.

Yes, the game has its problems--namely, the camera. But aside from that, the combat falls under the honorific of Fun,the loot system is gleefully outrageous, and most importantly, it's a game whose reach far exceeds its grasp. It tries so hard. And that's what I love about it--Norse gods who are really technological warriors? Okay, I'm down with that. Like an Image comic you don't feel guilty for reading, TOO HUMAN is both goofy and well intentioned, and doesn't make you feel like it stole precious time from you. It deserved better than it got.

So David and I played some Multi-Player last night, and had a fun time doing so. It took me awhile to re-acclimatize myself to the controls, but before long, I was juggling enemies while pounding the crap out of them with my Sword of Eternal Punishment Giving, or variation thereof. And somewhere deep inside, the little jerk who thought the Atari 2600 was cool was jumping up and down, thinking, wow, this is what all of the future should be like.

A Stranger Is Just A Friend We Haven't Overshared With

So there I was, sitting in the abandoned wasteland that used to be Westmount Mall, my head still ringing post-Slayer. Vulcan Ninja was in a store purchasing the sorts of things that a man standing alongside a woman as she decides on her purchase can only create uncomfortableness or very lame jokes. So, temporary exile.

Out of the corner of my eye I see an old man approaching me. He keeps approaching, so I glance up past my tinnitus. He stops in front of me.

He's in his late seventies, wearing a baseball cap and the sort of glasses that shade into sunglasses outside. He looks at me.

"You know, I was walking in that store in the men's section and I let a really big fart," he said.

I continued to stare at him, hoping the long hair, fierce biker beard and accompanying death glare will make him turn and walk away.

It doesn't.

"So, I got the hell out of that area, movin' around to the next aisle because it was a really bad one. And then this other guy walks right into it with his wife," he continued. "And she turns to him and goes "You dirty pig!'" and she starts just hitting him. Hitting him in the chest!"

"Wow," I replied.

"She was really hitting him. If I hit my wife like that with all those cameras in there, I'd be arrested by the police. They'd throw me right in the jail. So after she goes away, I walk up to this guy. He's got to be in his eighties or so."

"Really?" I said.

He glances over at the store. I wonder if Vulcan Ninja will ever emerge. Maybe I died last night, and this is Limbo.

"So I says to the guy, 'Hey, I let that fart. It was me.' 'Well, it really upset her,' this old guy says. 'she doesn't like farting', he says."

"And you know, my wife don't like farting either, but she sure as hell don't hit me for it. And I just started wondering what these guy's life must be like, seeing how he can't even fart. She must beat the hell out of that guy. He's got a walker and everything."

"Geez," I said.

Silence reigned, except for the ringing in my ears and the crumbling decay of the mall around me.

"See what they're charging for water in there?" the old man asked, breaking the silence mercifully with words and not an ass-trumpet. "Four dollars. I can buy the same water for two at Wal-Mart. Quite a mark-up on water, wouldn't you say?"

"I think I'm going to try and find my wife," I said, getting up. "You take care of yourself, sir."

I walked into the store. He shouted after me, "Good luck with that!"

You Know What The World's Missing?

This came to me as I awoke this morning, as the first light of dawn broke across my bedchambers.

I realized--with a pang of loss--that there just aren't any videos dedicated to the magic of Walt Disney by Finnish symphonic metal bands. And that hurts. Because this world would be a better place if a metal band didn't sing about getting drunk, tarot boards, running for the hills, or hangers with the numerical designation 18. And it's just wrong that there isn't something like that---

Oh, wait.

There is.