Tragedy

I had a traumatic experience last week. But first, the set up.

I play basketball every Thursday with a bunch of ministers, salesmen, and doctors. It’s a strange combination of players but it’s basically anyone who has flexibility built into their schedule so that they can get together on a weekday morning. I’ve been playing in this game off and on since I was in high school. When I took the recreation position at church, one of the biggest “perks” of the job was the opportunity to play in this game. Regardless of what my schedule looks like or how stressed I am, I play in this game every week because I’ve learned that the rest of my week tends to be a lot better after having played.

In my playing career, I’ve injured and reinjured my ankles and knees approximately one billion times, give or take a half million. I’ve suffered numerous high ankle sprains, a severely torn meniscus, five fractured or broken ankles, eight of ten toes broken (often many at the same time), etc. etc. This is what usually happens when I injure my poor neglected ankles: I go to the doctor. The doctor puts my foot in a boot or soft brace. The doctor tells me to stay off of it and not play for 4 to 6 weeks. I tell him “no problem.” I sit out for approximately two days. Then the sheer depression of not running around and playing sports gets to me, I take off the boot, wrap the ankle, and play through whatever level of pain I might have. (It should be noted that this is not a claim of manliness or toughness, but rather an illustration of the stupidity I routinely display in regards to injury.)

Right now I’m playing on what I believe to be a small fracture in the base of my ankle. I’m not 100% positive on this because I decided to forego the doctor’s visit and skip the middle man this time around. I’ve got my foot in a light brace and I’ve been playing without much problem. However, the risk of further aggravating the injury is obviously heightened right now.

Fast forward to Thursday. We’re playing the final game of the day and I’m feeling pretty good on the court. On the first play, I drive into the middle of the lane, jump stop hard, and kick it out to an open teammate. But as I land I hear a “pop” and my ankle twinges. Short of a bone bursting out of your skin, a “pop” sound is about the scariest thing you can be faced with in an athletic setting. Anytime you see an athlete get seriously hurt, he will almost always say he heard a “pop” as he went down.

I got a little scared and called for one of our replacements to sub in for me. I gingerly walked around the court, weakly testing the ankle, and hoping I hadn’t done something serious. It didn’t hurt anymore than it had before, which I found odd, and so I kept moving over to the bench. When I sat down, I brought my foot up to inspect the injury and was met with something I wasn’t prepared for. The sole of my shoe had torn loose of the fabric. The “pop” sound I had heard was the glue that holds the two pieces together tearing apart.

Tragedy had struck in the Fort Worth Christian High School gymnasium. My shoes were ruined.

Many of you may know my affinity for sneakers. I have many pairs and I make an attempt to rotate every couple of days to prevent them from getting too worn down. Basketball shoes are a slightly different animal. I am extremely picky about basketball shoes and I’m even more particular about how I take care of them. These shoes that had just been ruined have never been worn on anything except a wooden basketball court. That’s it. I wear a different pair of shoes into and out of the gym and I won’t even wear them to play on carpet or any other basketball surface. Basketball shoes are expensive and so I used to only buy one pair per year. When I bought a new pair, the old ones were given away or retired to “occasional use” status.

Lately, however, I haven’t been buying basketball shoes at all. I bought the ones I was wearing Thursday probably 5 years ago and each time I’ve tried to replace them, I’ve just ended up going back to them. They’re the lightest, most comfortable basketball shoes I’ve ever had and until a few weeks ago I hadn’t sustained any real ankle injuries while wearing them (which is a big deal). I haven’t bought a pair of basketball shoes in at least 3 years.

Now I have nothing but the broken fragments of my favorite shoes, left to start the search for the next great pair while at the same time feeling guilty about leaving a fallen comrade behind. Farewell dear Nike Air Speed Systems Mid Top basketball sneakers. You have served me well and you deserve far better than your fate of being used as a chew toy for my parent’s dog.

Midnight Premiere

In my younger days I frequented the Midnight Premiere events that go hand-in-hand with big budget movies. I did this a couple of times in high school, several times in college, and a great many times right after I moved back to the Metroplex when I lived in an apartment that was virtually part of the Grapevine Mills Mall property. Since then these excursions have lessened in frequency to the point that, prior to yesterday, I couldn’t even remember the last Midnight Premiere I had been to.

Last week as the world prepared for the release of “Watchmen,” Jason and I began throwing around the idea of seeing it at midnight. I’m quite used to this conversation. It usually goes something like this:

Guy number 1: “Dude, we should go see that movie.”
Guy number 2, talking to girlfriend/wife/random girl he might have some level of interest in: “Do you want to see that?”
Girlfriend/Wife/Random girl: “Never in a million years.”
Guy number 2: “Ya man, we should make it a guys night.”
Guy number 1: “Dude, we should totally go see it at midnight.”
Guy number 2: “I’m in.”

Later one of the guys will reconsider this decision, then begin to waver, then drop out entirely. At this point the other guy says this is lame but is secretly happy that he doesn’t have to stay up that late and was able to save face by waiting on the first guy bailing out. I’ve been part of this conversation numerous times. This time around, however, it was different. I didn’t have to be into work at any given hour and Jason was closing. So we had at least two. Elijah jumped on board the day of the big event and Ryan was a late commitment, bringing our party to four. And so, in the name of Nerdom, we made our way to United Artist Fossil Creek 11, tickets pre-purchased and Red Bull in hand.

We arrived about an hour early because in the past, when I’ve done this sort of thing, the theater had everyone stand outside until 20 minutes before start time in a structure that usually resembles a sheep pen. To my surprise, we were one of the two small groups awaiting show time. We waited patiently, passing the time by not-so-quietly mocking one of the theater attendants who was attempting and failing to take down a sign by jumping and scaling a wall. Shortly thereafter we asked said attendant if he’d like a boost or if we could just go ahead into the theater. His response was “Sure, there’s already a bunch of people in there.” Blerg. Here we thought we were the first people in line! My first comment was, “Oh, it’s not going to smell good in there.”

I was correct.

As a group, nerds are not a great smelling people. I mean no disrespect by this. I’m a nerd myself, though a slightly lesser brand of nerd (because I like sports, too), and hopefully a bit better groomed. But let’s just be honest. The chances of a warm theater full of comic book nerds smelling like the perfume section of Dillards are pretty low. We took our seats and settled in for that awful 30 minutes before a movie in which the theater tries to entertain you with approximately 5 trivia slides that loop every 122 seconds. (Yep, we timed it.) At first we were all a bit annoyed by the group of girls sitting two rows behind us who, if not by birth date then by maturity level, were clearly not old enough to be at this movie and were jabbering incessantly.

Quickly, however, my attention was brought to something far more alarming. A young couple, somewhere in their late 20s I would guess, walked in sheepishly, carrying… wait for it… a baby! (Actually, I’m only assuming it was a baby. The subject was in a car seat, covered by a blanket. I guess it could have been a ferret or even an elaborate setup to illegally record the movie. Elijah thought it could possibly be a keg. I’m going to bet it was a baby, though.) Not only had this couple decided it was a great idea to bring a baby to what turned out to be one of the most loud, violent, and graphic films I’ve ever seen, this was, after all, a midnight showing (just in case you hadn’t picked up on that). Jason commented that he thought he was probably going to swear and I believe the majority of the theater agreed with this sentiment.

Soon after, the lights dimmed and the second stage of this adventure began. I must commend the people who chose the trailers to be shown prior to the movie, as they ran the Nerd Gamut, so to speak, with “Terminator,” “Star Trek,” and “Angels and Demons.” These only heightened the excitement in the room, which in turn, only made the smell slightly worse.

(On a side note, does anyone else remember the days when the movie theater was a cold environment? Even the most cold-inclined girl I know doesn’t feel the need to bring a jacket into the theater anymore. A cold room would have done a world of good on this night.)

Eventually, “Watchmen” began and proved itself relatively worthy of the idiotic lengths I had gone to in order to see it. Three hours later, the closing credits rolled and I made my way back to my car, fully satisfied by the movie-going experience, but perhaps a little more aware of my age. It was close to 3:45 before I made my way to bed and the 9 o’clock alarm I initially set for myself was quickly pushed back to 10. I have been paying the price all day for the war I waged against my body by keeping it out so late. I could have gone to bed at 7 this evening. But overall the experience was worthwhile, if not a much needed departure from the every day activities, and I consider myself lucky to have enough nerdy friends to make a small adventure like this possible.

Some Quick Movie Reviews

In about 2 hours I will be standing in line at United Artist Fossil Creek 11 to see “Watchmen.” It’s been quite a while since I’ve tried to do a midnight show but I’m pulling out all the stops this time around in the name of Nerdom. Will my Friday work experience be awful? Most likely. But I can’t pass up the opportunity. Before I go, however, I feel I should write some quick reviews of the 2009 movies I’ve seen thus far. I saw 3 movies in about 2 days and didn’t have time to write full on reviews for each (except for “Taken”). The launch of “Watchmen” officially marks the beginning of Movie Season, as it is the first one from my “Top 10 Most Anticipated Films” to make it to theaters. So a quick run through of the three 2009 movies I’ve made it to so far.

“Bride Wars”
Let’s be honest here. Was there any chance that I was going to like this movie? Absolutely not. This film was written for women only and there was almost nothing for a guy to latch on to. And there’s nothing wrong with that, per se. Some “chick flicks” are designed to hit the date audience, some to hit the girl’s night out audience. This is 100% the latter. The acting is abysmal. Kate Hudson is rapidly turning herself into a pigeon holed actress who will only be allowed to appear in awful romantic “comedies” and the fact that Anne Hathaway followed up her recent Oscar nominated film with this, we can only hope is coincidence. The jokes fall flat throughout, the story is cliché to say the least, and the whole thing is an exercise in idiocy.
Grade: D

“The International”
I confess I’m a bit disappointed in this. I wasn’t expecting greatness from this film but I’ve come to trust Clive Owen in the sense that if he is involved, it’s usually an attempt to make a legitimately good film. This story about a corrupt bank walked the line between good and bad but eventually fell into the “eh, that was OK” category that so very many action/dramas end up in. My biggest problem here is that for the first hour or so of the movie, it appears to be more of an “action with a purpose” movie, meaning that it isn’t built entirely around effects and shock value. Then for approximately 20 minutes it seems to lose itself in an insane fight scene that is completely and totally out of sync with the direction of the film. Then it returns to its original intention. In addition to this confusion, Naomi Watts is either a much worst actress that I’ve given her credit for or completely drunk throughout the entire filming of the movie. She is just terrible. In all, “The International” was mildly entertaining (all you can really ask for) but instantly forgettable.
Grade: C+

“He’s Just Not That Into You”
The makers of “Bride Wars” could take a page out of this book on how to make a date-worthy “chick flick” if, in fact, they wanted to do so. This film follows the paths of 3 or 4 couples that are kind-of, sort-of connected through “When Harry Met Sally-esque” breaks describing ways to tell if a guy isn’t interested. This is far from great, particularly because it lacks consistency. The film doesn’t flow. In addition, I felt like there are so many characters here that the film doesn’t have enough time to develop all those characters and so at times it feels as if they’re changing their personalities rather than just showing depth. But it is an entertaining and quite honest look into the dating world. I enjoyed the movie more and it’s a pretty solid date movie, if nothing else.
GRADE: B-

Review for "Taken"

I wrote a blog a few months ago concerning things I feel like I should hate but find it hard to do so. The entry centered namely around Justin Timberlake, whom I feel I should hate with the fire of a thousand suns but find it impossible to do. And so it is with “Taken.”

So many things about this film stand for the many things I am so fervently against in the movie industry. The plot is lacking, the holes in the story gigantic, and much of the acting is atrocious. And I mean, seriously atrocious. It is a movie that is completely and totally action driven, something I generally hate in a movie. Yet I cannot keep myself from loving what I just saw.

There’s almost no plot to sum up here. If you’ve seen the trailer, you know what this movie is about. Former FBI/CIA/CTU/Something Government Related agent Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) has retired from said Government Related Agency job and is trying to be a civilian in an attempt to get closer to his 17 year old daughter Kim (Maggie Grace). When Kim is offered the opportunity to spend the summer abroad, Bryan reluctantly relents, on the condition that she stay in contact with him through the use of an international phone he buys her. Upon arriving in Paris, Kim and her friend immediately make all the dumb mistakes you hear about in kidnapping stories. Soon after, while on the phone with Bryan, Kim realizes there are intruders in the house and she is about to be abducted. Bryan promises to come for her and promptly jumps back into Government Related Agent mode. The rest of the film follows Bryan as he burns France to the ground in an effort to find his daughter.

If you’re looking for complex plot points, this isn’t the movie for you. The entire film is one attack-on-bad-guy after another. There is very little concern for international law or “conscience questions.” In most action movies, these things are at least mentioned or thought about, even if only for a moment or two. In “Taken” these things are discussed in about one sentence and then kicked to the curb where they belong. Bryan Mills has far too many Albanians to take down to think about things such as laws. His ONLY concern in life is finding his daughter and he will do anything and everything to make that happen. This includes, but is not limited to, breaking and entering, torture, impersonating a foreign official, and leaving anyone behind who is not his daughter. This is not “Dark Knight” or any other action movie in which the hero struggles to find the line between wrong and right. There is no gray in this film. Bryan Mills is RIGHT, everyone else is WRONG, and it is as simple as that, collateral damage be darned. “Taken” is very unapologetic in this stance and it works.

Here is why “Taken” works where other films fail. Too often, action movies try to bridge the gap between reality and fantasy and in doing so fall flat. Our hero cannot take out 37 bad guys with a single pistol clip then stop to reload a moment later. If you’re going to allow him to not reload for an entire battle, then go full out and toss out the reloading all together. Another one of the more tired clichés in action movies is for the hero to take somewhere between 2 and 41 bullets during the course of the film yet still manages to get by. “Taken” throws out the notion that the hero ever has to even be winged by an enemy’s bullet. The shooting displayed by everyone in this film who is not Liam Neeson would make a Stormtrooper proud. Bryan Mills seemingly walks through gun fire the way Wyatt Earp does to take down Curley Bill in “Tombstone.” And when a bullet won’t do the job, he’s more than capable of delivering a karate chop to the neck that immediately knocks a would-be attacker out.

On the flip side of that coin, too many action films take absolutely preposterous ideas and turn the whole thing into a special effects collage surrounded by the “Oh yeah, this is supposed to have some sort of story” plot line. A wonderful example of this would be “Crank 2: High Voltage” which I was so lucky to see a trailer for prior to “Taken.” (If you can’t tell that this sentence is OOZING sarcasm please stop reading now.) This movie selects a subject (the abduction of a family member) that audiences can relate to or at least imagine what they would do in the situation and then seemingly allows the imagination to run free. It’s a brilliant mix because while the on screen happenings are often ridiculous, the story in which it happens is very real and easily related to. When the fairly predictable final scene comes into reality, it is less anti-climatic and more justifying.

It should be noted once more that the acting (outside of Neeson) in this movie is absolutely horrendous. Maggie Grace, in particular, is laughable as a 26 year old trying desperately to cling to the ideas of what a 17 year old should behave like. My comment to those sitting near me was that it felt like Neeson was acting in a major motion picture and the rest of the cast was participating in a drama class at Santa Monica Junior College. (Very similar, in fact, to “The Phantom Menace.”) But in a way this seems to work for “Taken” as crazy as this may sound. While Mills has no time to mess with the intricacies of diplomacy, neither does director Pierre Morel have time to mess with the motivation of his actors. I would be very skeptical of any future Morel films. But in the end, “Taken” is a highly enjoyable “man’s movie” and Mills is a subtly clever and witty “man’s man.” In the spirit of “Die Hard” I was able to revel in the absurdity rather than be turned off by it and that is where this film hits its mark.

GRADE: A-