A Very Netflix Lent

As Lent comes to a close this weekend, I’ve been reflecting on my lackadaisical attitude toward fasting and abstinence over the season. I searched for loopholes, sacrificing trivial pleasures like chocolate and bacon and ignoring my one, true addiction: movies. More specifically, this addiction has led me to one ridiculously time-consuming habit: Netflix binging.

“You are forgiven. Your penance shall be six episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Fortunately, I know I’m not alone. Wherever I go, conversations revolve around one’s progress in Netflix and Hulu. People treat it like it’s their job. You never see anyone give up their jobs for Lent, do you? While jobs provide us with a living, Netflix awards us a far more valuable currency in everyday life: 1) the smug satisfaction of knowing every pop culture reference and 2) an immunity to all spoilers at the watercooler.

The Breaking Bad Quality Assurance Team.

The TV days of tuning in next week and enduring cliffhangers together might be gone, but only to make way for much wider access to a whole new world of motion pictures we’d never have discovered without Netflix. That is if you’re not too hung up on How I Met Your Mother. Now that Lent is over, consider this a list of new temptations to indulge in.

TV Shows

If the Classics and Oscar-winning films are gateway drugs, then television shows must surely be crack cocaine. Nothing gives you a better high than your first Arrested Development bender. But when every episode and season has suddenly dried up, you’ll squint through blood-shot eyes and find yourself sitting in a pool of shame and Chex Mix…

And hiring an employee to smuggle movies in her anal cavity.

…Only to proceed deeper into the TV category. Anything to quench your insatiable appetite for episodic stimulation. My personal poison? Retro television. The self-contained stories in Star Trek and Mission: Impossible always get the job done. There’s a charm to their modest entertainment, and to their devotion to character. And the high brings you back down nice and easy.

And right back to your dealer.

Do you know more about cooking meth than you’d like to admit? Are Congressman Francis Underwood’s victories and failures your own? Have you figured out all your friends’ jobs aboard the USS Enterprise? Then perhaps it’s time you went outside and remembered that reality moves much faster than 24 frames per second.

And once you’re refreshed, log back in and check out the amazing things the Brits are doing on the small screen.

British Television

I’m willing to bet your first encounter with British TV happened during your first memories of flipping through the channels. You came upon a staticky transmission of Last of the Summer Wine on PBS. You stuck around for the funny accents. You got through maybe three jokes (at least the laugh-track told you so), spoken in a language you knew you should understand but definitely didn’t, before flipping back to Babar. You soon promised yourself you’d never return as long as Mr. Bean wasn’t on the screen brushing his teeth out a car window.

Well, what if I told you that British television is not just an outlet for Simon Cowell’s bad mood? That it’s not only watchable, but in many ways superior to what you think is quality television? The first five minutes of Sherlock should be enough to put any doubts to rest. And the first two episodes of Luther might even turn you into an expatriate.

“If I say you’re a Brit now, then that’s what you are, innit? Now stop crying. You’re a disgrace.”

As for actually laughing at British comedy, I tell you it’s not all as dry as old biscuits. Try The IT Crowd for a good old-fashioned sit-com. If you’ve got the mettle for something much darker, like a self-loathing, stoner Seinfeld, try Peep Show. You won’t regret it.

Independent Films

In easily one of their best sections, Netflix has compiled an impressive collection of must-see indies. Not nearly as arcane as the Criterion Collection on Hulu, the Independent section will make any movie-watcher cinematically literate without being pretentious. You’ll soon learn that mumble-core is a fading fad and regret the day you ever met Gaspar Noé. Make sure to sample some of Ingmar Bergman and Jim Jarmusch’s filmography in case you ever encounter a Criterion junkie. They’re a far less forgiving bunch than Kevin Smith and Charlie Kaufman fans.

“You like linear narrative and likeable characters? What are you, a philistine?”

Quirky Documentaries

Thanks to the cost and availability of film equipment, documentary films have become much more popular among independent filmmakers. Just look through YouTube and Vimeo to find countless short docs full of rack focus and indie music by aspiring cinematographers. Inevitably, there’s also been a surge of documentaries about special interest topics and inside jokes. Winnebago Man, I Think We’re Alone Now, Shut Up Little Man!, Exit Through the Gift Shop, and Man on Wire are all excellent examples. They explore bizarre stories that might never have gone beyond their 15 minutes of fame if not for the obsessed fans who sifted through hours of footage. The results are poignant examinations of the human desire for meaning and attention. They highlight the hidden side of our mundane reality and elevate it to legendary heights.

Or just bring you right back to your dad’s driving lessons.

Children & Family

Chances are you once saw one of your favorite childhood shows on Netflix’s front page and couldn’t resist the urge to revisit it. You remember it as totally mature, laden with subtext and far more nuanced than whatever crap the kids are watching these days.

Is it just me or was Angry Beavers really about Isreal and Palestine? Anyone?

How wrong you were. They were meant for a certain time in your life, a time when your burgeoning imagination filled in the gaps in dialogue and shoddy animation. And they should stay there. You’re the person you are thanks to those cartoons, but it’s time you moved on. There’s only disillusionment for you if you turn back.

Unless it’s Rocko’s Modern Life. That show was filthy.

The movies, though, are the ones that usually hold up over time. James and the Giant Peach and The Great Mouse Detective are just as magical as before, and Atlantis: The Lost Empire might be even better now. Appreciate them while you still can and don’t let yourself get too jaded. Besides, it’s better than watching creepy anime schoolgirls alone in your room.

I took a wrong turn somewhere.

5 Movie Ideas for the Biblical Bandwagon

Last week, Steven Spielberg passed on the chance to direct Warner Bros’ Moses biopic, Gods and Kings, giving Ridley Scott’s Exodus a head start in the race to the silver screen. The studio also passed on Mel Gibson’s Judah Maccabee picture a year ago. But despite their apparent spiritual hesitation, the next few years will deliver us Exodus, Darren Aronofsky’s Noah, and the prequel to Gibson’s Passion of the Christ, Alister Grierson’s Mary Mother of Christ, not to mention the History Channel’s current mini-series, The Bible. Seeing as how the Word of God is the hottest source material on the market right now, I have dreamed, like Joseph, five suggestions for Warner Bros. to get back on the donkey to Zion.

1. Sodom & Gomorrah

The Day After Creation

Roland Emmerich (The Day After Tomorrow, 2012) tackles the mother of all destruction pornos in this riotous depiction of the fall of Sodom & Gomorrah. Featuring cinema’s most decadent stars, including Kim Kardashian, Andy Dick, Lindsay Lohan, and Jerry O’Connell, Sodom & Gomorrah will be the party movie to end all party movies, sending Animal House and Project X to purgatory. Watch as total buzzkill Abraham (Stephen Root of Office Space) scours the cities in search of ten men and women worthy of salvation, only to find every kind of perversion known to man and beast as they celebrate like it’s the end of the world, before getting struck down with hellfire in a dazzling spectacle that only Roland Emmerich could conjure.

2. All About Adam & Eve

The Garden Crashers

David Dobkin (The Wedding Crashers, The Change-Up) directs this romantic comedy about the first dysfunctional couple. Adam (Jason Segel) has it all: the beasts of the land and the air, a beautiful garden, and a wickedly hot wife after his own rib (Olivia Wilde). But there’s trouble in Paradise when his woman starts to covet forbidden fruit. Can Adam reclaim his rightful place at the head of the family before God (Dustin Hoffman), the Almighty land-Lord, comes to visit? Or will He cast his own image out onto the high-road?

3. Jonah and the Whale

Edward Prayerhands

Society hasn’t been kind on poor, misunderstood Jonah (Johnny Depp), so when God (Johnny Depp) orders him to preach against the city of Nineveh, the prophet flees in the other direction with a crew of surly sailors (all Johnny Depp). But God has other plans for Jonah. Swept away  from his pasty, unsaturated world by a vicious storm, Jonah is swallowed by a whale where he discovers another fantastical, wacky world from the mind of Tim Burton. His faith will be tested as he faces swamps of digestive fluids, armies of mutant fish, carnivorous plankton, riddling barnacles, and the Marine Queen (Helena Bonham Carter) and rediscovers his calling to prophecy, with a vague, secular message about believing yourself shoehorned in at the end for good measure. You know, for kids.

4. Abraham

Million Shekel Baby

Abraham is the searing tale of a father’s religious obsession and the son threatened by it. Having endured paganism, famine, escape to Egypt, armed battle, various tests of faith, and circumcision, Abraham (Clint Eastwood) settles down with his wife Sarah and new son Isaac (Kodi Smit-Mcphee). The hundred year-old prophet grows increasingly introverted, mumbling to himself about his sterility and talking at empty chairs. The servants begin to question Abraham’s sanity, but remain quiet when the father of the Israelites plans a trip to Moriah to sacrifice Isaac to the Lord. Clint Eastwood will challenge your belief in parenthood, family, faith, love, sacrifice, religion, reality, God, happiness, your own self-worth, and the meaning of existence in this provocative, horribly depressing film that asks every question and answers none of them.

5. Samson Chained

Pulp Testament

In his latest homage to Spaghetti Westerns, French New Wave, John Ford’s later filmography, blaxploitation, grindhouse, communist propaganda, 90s infomercials, David Bowie music videos, and Steamboat Willie, Quentin Tarantino introduces audiences to his most charming, verbose, baddest motherfucker yet. Samson is born into a world under the vicious rule of the Philistines. With God’s blessing (terrifyingly voiced by Samuel L. Jackson), supernatural strength, and the jawbone of an ass, Samson slaughters thousands of Philistines, putting Beatrix Kiddo to shame. Ultimately, Samson’s insatiable lust for backstabbing hos will cost him his powers, his eyesight, and his freedom. Will he have his revenge on Delilah (Uma Thurman) and the leader of the Philistines (Christoph Waltz)? Will he topple the Temple of Dagon? Only time, and God, will tell.

A Bad Day for Die Hard

A Good Day to Die Hard is not a Die Hard film. At least not in any way beyond the title and the characters’ names. Sadly, it’s not even a very good action film. Then again, sub-par actioners are certainly commonplace these days. My grievance with Good Day is that the producers watched Live Free or Die Hard and thought, “This horse could still take some more beating.”

“You have a choice, Mr. McClane. Stop living in the 90s, or we’ll take away your charm and your hair.”

It was always hard for me to pinpoint the appeal of the first three Die Hard films. Bruce Willis’ performance is certainly gripping, but there’s no shortage of foul-mouthed, cocky action heroes. Nor are the explosions and gunfire all that outrageous in any of the first three movies. I knew I loved Die Hard, but I couldn’t identify anything remarkable that distinguished it from other 80s series, like Lethal Weapon (another favorite of mine). That is, until I saw Live Free or Die Hard and A Good Day to Die Hard. These two films highlight, in their shortcomings, the two best qualities about John McClane’s original trilogy.

1. Irony

McClane might not strike you as a particularly bright or resourceful police officer. At least not before Die Hard really gets started. But as the adage goes, necessity breeds invention, and that is the crux of Die Hard’s genius. As he sneaks around Nakatomi Plaza right under Hans Gruber’s nose, John McClane foils the terrorists’ every move with ingenious tricks and harebrained schemes. On the one hand, we love to anticipate McClane’s improvised solutions and MacGyveresque inventiveness. But there’s something downright funny about this.

Other than any associations with this guy.

McClane is exactly the kind of guy you’d expect to screw up this mission. He’s the cop who would imagine himself propelling a car off a toll booth into a helicopter.

Spoiler Alert: It was all a dream.

But he’s also got enough sense to know that that would never actually work, especially in such a delicate situation. That’s why he has to restrain his brutish tendencies and handle the terrorist attack sensitively and discreetly. The very image of a tough cop tiptoeing around on bare feet and crawling under tables is inherently hilarious. A tough cop ramming a truck into a woman’s midsection is not. A gruff police officer solving riddles in the middle of Central Park is hysterical. An old action star straddling a CGI fighter jet is not.

Well, not as hysterical.

Two scenes in Good Day attempted to recreate McClane’s MacGyver skills. One shows McClane distracting a henchman with a forklift just so that he can blow him up with a grenade. Not exactly creative. The second shows McClane dangling a truck off a helicopter to bring it down in absurd, fiery destruction. Not exactly subtle.

2. Sadism

The other joy we get from Die Hard is that of watching McClane get the living shit beat out of him, time and time again. As sadistic as this sounds, there’s great satisfaction in seeing our hero endure every possible torture for the sake of justice. By the end of Die Hard With a Vengeance, when McClane is drenched in blood, some not his, some definitely his, we realize that he’ll do anything to win, that his own flesh is merely an obstacle to that end.

“I picked a bad day to quit self-mutilation.”

When Good Day subjects McClane to a multiple rollover car crash, immediately followed by a direct collision between a car and his stomach, only to have him walk away without a scratch within the first 20 minutes of the movie, I have to throw my hands up and abandon my suspension of disbelief.

Just because McClane got pummeled throughout the first three movies, it doesn’t mean he’s invincible. It hurts him and we can tell. But the last two movies seemed to think that, because he’s a film icon, McClane has officially become an indestructible supercop.

“011001010001, motherfucker.”

It’s interesting to note that all of the first three films came from material not intended for the character of John McClane. Die Hard was based on Roderick Thorp’s novel, Nothing Lasts Forever, Die Hard 2 on Walter Wager’s novel, 58 Minutes, and Die Hard With a Vengeance on Jonathan Hensleigh’s repurposed screenplay, Simon Says. It seems ironic that the scripts written around John McClane would work less than the ones retroactively fitted to him. And yet this is just another testament to the fact that Die Hard is about a fish out of water.

As the fish later learns, the key is to flood everything with water.

Screenwriter Skip Woods thought it was enough to plant the All-American McClane in Russia. But when the bad guys start ripping apart their own Moscow with explosives and car chases, Woods has our hero fight fire, not with any ingenuity, but with more fire (and firepower).

I easily could have ranted about Good Day‘s flat villains, convoluted plot, vapid father-son dialogue, and utter absence of humor. But that would only eschew the real problem with A Good Day to Die Hard: that the filmmakers clearly cared less about the true spirit of Die Hard than about inevitable box office success. Maybe the third superfluous sequel’s the charm?

7 Oscar Letdowns

The Oscars have come to elicit the same response as an M. Night Shyamalan film. People show up to see if it’s just as bad, or even worse, than the last one. They expect all the same gimmicks and, when they’re right, are even more disappointed that they still don’t work. And when it comes to the big finale, they half-anticipate a twist-ending that’s even less satisfying than the one before it.

Scarier than The Happening.

Perhaps I’m being harsh on the Oscars (or too kind on Shyamalan), but no matter how much dazzle they throw into the ceremony, it just reminds us that the luster of the good old Billy Crystal days is gone. And yes, I’m deliberately ignoring his return last year because it felt like a frustrated surrender to a formula the Academy wished they’d never abandoned. That formula strictly being Billy Crystal as host.

This isn’t even a knock on Seth MacFarlane. He had hits and he had misses. His absurdism, totally unprecedented at the Oscars, and shameless offensiveness were a welcome mix-up to the self-congratulatory tedium that’s defined the ceremony in recent years. This is about the Academy and their stubborn adherence to dusty cinematic conventions. They can extend the list of nominees as much as they want, but when that envelope is opened, the Academy always shows itself for what it really is.

“I liked the one that didn’t make me question my beliefs!”

1. Every award presentation

Think back to the most awkward, incompetent person you know having to do the last thing he was designed to do: stand in front of a crowd and read a simple speech. Maybe it was your drunk brother-in-law and a string of inappropriate jokes for his best-man speech. Or a fourth-grader playing the role of bystander #23 in a school play, after holding in his piss for the past 24 hours. Or an illiterate grown man reading from the Bible at church. Now imagine that this person is replaced with a celebrity who spends the better part of his life in the public eye. You would think that the outcome would be considerably better, wouldn’t you? Then explain this:

“Time for plan D, boys. Everyone start talking at the same time.”

Most bafflingly, every time another actor stumbled through the simple task of presenting an award, it was impossible to tell what parts were just poor writing and what parts were improvisation gone horribly awry. While the audience bit their lips and begged God to bring it all to an end, the presenters swore they could salvage their 20-second gig and turn it into pure 5-minute gold. It was like watching Michael Richards do stand-up.

2. Christoph Waltz… again

This complaint could bring me death threats. Don’t get me wrong, Christoph Waltz is one of the most interesting and graceful actors on screens today, and I’ve only seen him in two movies, both by the same director. My grievance is probably directed more at Quentin Tarantino, who essentially wrote Waltz’s character, Dr. King Schultz, as a good-guy Colonel Hans Landa, only this time in the American South. With a list of Supporting Actor nominees as impressive as this year’s, it felt completely unnecessary to give the same actor the same award for the same role all over again.

“This is too easy!”

3. A not so Brave choice

I was so sure that Wreck-It Ralph would win, that I was prepared to have to use this blog post to defend ParaNorman to the death. But now I’m forced to defend them both. The Academy might be the only group of people that preferred Brave over the former two, and yet it’s not at all surprising. Although another masterful piece of storytelling from Pixar, Brave is just another entry in Disney’s princess collection: safe, conventional and uninspired. Meanwhile, Wreck-It Ralph is about video games (the downfall of modern day children, of course) and ParaNorman is a tribute to B horror flicks (the downfall of the baby boomers, of course). And yet both were daring, fresh and, in the case of ParaNorman, had the most innovative design work we’ve seen since Tim Burton’s earlier stop-motion work. Then again, it did have a gay character (the downfall of civilization, of course).

“We Come to Eat Your Morals!!”

4. No Love for The Hobbit

If there was anything that Peter Jackson’s epic prequel achieved, or any of his movies for that matter, it was complete immersion into worlds we’d never know otherwise. Critics were put off by the 48 fps projection without dissociating it from the production value. In reality, the higher frame rate makes it much more difficult to create seamless prosthetics and visual effects, but all the critics could see was awkward motion redolent of a Mexican soap opera. As a result, the film got shafted in the two categories it does best. Les Miserables took the prize for Best Makeup and Hairstyling, a task that consisted of giving Hugh Jackman white hair and crow’s feet and making Helena Bonham Carter look scary.

Before makeup and costume.

Lincoln was then awarded Best Production Design. This required the unified recreation of a period in American history that has not only been represented hundreds of times on celluloid, canvas and paper, but is also closely documented in historic texts, intact relics and locations, and the very first photographs. The Hobbit, on the other hand, transported us to an organic, expansive and ridiculously detailed world that has only been seen in a total of four films and in our dreams.

5. Poor Roger Deakins

Thanks to legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins, the line separating James Bond films and high art was blurred. He did this through the use of lighting, shadows, angles and focus. The award for Best Cinematography went to Claudio Miranda for Life of Pi, a film in which nearly every frame is over-saturated and color corrected, and every stunning sequence created in a computer. Maybe Skyfall should’ve tried not being a James Bond film.

“If we’re going to find God, and the hard drive containing names of undercover agents, we’re going to have to set aside our differences, tiger.”

6. Bored, not stirred

Speaking of James Bond, remember all the hype leading up to the big Oscar reunion? The one that promised every actor to have played 007 on stage at the same time? What better way to celebrate the 50th anniversary of one of the longest and most successful film franchises? Well, never mind all that. Here’s one song from one movie!

Next year: a Tribute to Star Wars‘ Max Rebo Band!

7. The Best Musicals Ever… of the last decade. Ever.

“Remember when we awarded Chicago? Remember how pissed everyone was that we snubbed Gangs of New York? Let’s remind everyone that we still stand by it and disguise it with a tribute to Musicals that only includes movies from the past eleven years!” – The Academy

“And the winner is…Chicago, Again!!”

Who Not to Cast as Young Han Solo

With the recent news that Han Solo will have his own spinoff prequel, it’s no surprise that the internet is buzzing with casting suggestions for the space smuggler. Everyone wants to see their favorite star portray this cinematic legend, though without much consideration for the actual role. I’ve read ideas that range from the ridiculous to the impossible. Tweens want Robert Pattinson to claim another franchise for them, and some even want to give Shia “No-More-Blockbusters” LaBeouf another chance.

I’m here to quash those misguided casting calls to give Han the actor he deserves. And for the sake of continuity, I have left out any candidates who are dangerously close to 34, Harrison Ford’s age in Episode IV (sorry, Gosling fans).

Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Though JGL comes up in connection to young Han all over the internet, this strikes me as another case of devoted fans promoting their darling just to see him succeed. The Star Wars saga shows Han go from self-seeking mercenary to selfless warrior. Seeing as how the spinoff will take place before A New Hope, Han will inevitably be at his greediest, lowest point, or at least headed there. If there’s anything that JGL’s fans love about him most, it’s that he’s the nicest dude they’ve ever seen. When his mouth isn’t smiling, his eyes still are. The case should be the opposite with Han, a man who exudes a willingness to abandon you on an asteroid if it benefitted him.

“Let’s talk this out, Greedo. How about double what I owe you, plus the Millennium Falcon. Fair?”

Hemsworth brothers

Thanks to the success of Star Wars, Harrison Ford became a superstar almost overnight, and sexiness has been part of his appeal ever since. But I think few can deny that Ford doesn’t lean on traditional good-looks. It’s all about attitude. So when film gurus gush over Chris and Liam Hemsworth as surefire Han Solos, it feels just short of sacrilege. The Hemsworth brothers have been cornering Hollywood’s heartthrob territory with major roles in Thor and The Hunger Games. They’re handsome and they know it, which means they don’t need personality. If Han knows he’s attractive, he doesn’t seem to care because he’s got plenty of confidence on reserve to keep him happy when Leia rejects him.

“Who’s the scruffy-looking Nerf herder now?”

Logan Lerman

This rather dark horse contender has impressed audiences with his rapid ascent to big-budget productions like 3:10 to Yuma, Percy Jackson, and next year’s Noah. Though he might become a formidable force at the box office, this power doesn’t really translate to his physicality. Lerman doesn’t look like he can hold his own in a fight, so it’ll be hard for him to capture Han Solo’s weathered ruggedness.

Taylor Kitsch

I can’t for the life of me figure out why Kitsch keeps getting work, but if he deserves anything, it’s an A for effort. Somehow he’s ridden his own eagerness to the top of casting directors’ lists, from ragin’ cajun Gambit in Wolverine to gravel-voiced gravitas in John Carter. Han Solo, though, is so cool exactly because he doesn’t have to force every line delivery. In fact, he underplays his own cool. Kitsch couldn’t downplay a beat of silence.

“That’s right, Chewie. This time…it’s personal.”

Chris Pine

If you think about it, the only thing separating Captain Kirk and Han Solo is a legitimate job. But the last thing the galaxy needs right now is all-out war between Trekkies and Jedis.

“May the Force be with you or whatever.”

Who Might Pull it Off

You didn’t think I could resist the urge to give my own recommendations, did you? The movie is definitely going to happen, and we don’t have a young River Phoenix around to save us. Here are my reluctant plugs.

Dave Franco

Franco Junior might have to grow out of his shit-eating grin, but he just about nailed Han’s combination of cockiness and haplessness in 21 Jump Street.

Dick-head Han

Garrett Hedlund

Tron: Legacy may not be much to go on, but Hedlund’s got that understated quality that mirrors Han’s clandestine occupation of choice. Plus, he plays the roguish Dean Moriarty in On the Road, proving he can ruffle up his good looks.

Mysterious Han

Jai Courtney

Something about Courtney in Jack Reacher made me want to punch him in the face. Then I realized that’s exactly the kind of reaction that Han should inspire. And the fact that I had no idea he was Australian, and that on this list he probably most resembles Harrison Ford, shows it won’t be so hard for him to become the character.

Dark horse Han

Aaron Taylor-Johnson

This Brit can disappear into any role. Also, I might have a man-crush on him.

Wild card Han

6 Lessons from the Star Trek Pilot

The recent news about Star Wars had me wondering about J.J. Abrams, so I looked into his previous work, which of course led me to his Star Trek reboot, reminding me of the original series, a show I never took the time to watch.

When I snapped out of it, I was 4 movies deep into a Kevin Bacon marathon.

Having been raised on Star Wars, I believed that Star Trek was on the uncool side of nerdy. I didn’t know any kid who didn’t like Star Wars, so by default I was safe. To make matters worse, the Trekkies movies were as effective deterrents as terrifying anti-drug PSA’s.

This is your brain on The Original Series.

Once friends and strangers advertised Star Trek to me as the philosophical, thinking-man’s science fiction, my interest was piqued. Lo and behold, the remastered Original Series appeared on Netflix. Sure, 79 episodes would be a daunting task, but one I would gladly surmount in the name of tolerance and geeky solidarity.

But how would Star Trek introduce itself to unsuspecting audiences or, even worse, prejudiced newbies like myself? How would Gene Roddenberry sneak a progressive  agenda into entertainment for viewers accustomed to Lassie and Flash Gordon?

No dangerous ideas here. Just me and Flash’s fantastic abs.

That’s what I resolved to find out, trying my best to ignore hilarious outfits and Spock’s inconsistent eyebrows. Those were expected. It was the oddly outdated value system in the pilot episode, “The Cage,” that caught me off guard. So, I present to you Six Lessons I Learned from the Star Trek Pilot.

If you wanna play with the big boys, you gotta act like one.

The crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise have just intercepted a distress signal from the planet Talos IV. Captain Christopher Pike (James T. Kirk takes command 13 years later) orders a rescue mission. As they prepare to land, he bumps into the new female yeoman. She leaves and Pike confesses to Number One, “She does a good job all right, it’s just that I can’t get used to having a woman on the bridge.” An unfortunately honest comment, except that Number One is also a woman. He double-takes, looks at her apologetically, their eyes sharing the burden of millennia of misogyny, and says, “No offense, lieutenant. You’re different of course.”

“I can fart in front of you like you’re one of the guys.”

He proceeds to tell her that, for this mission, she has to stay on the bridge, further proving that he doesn’t consider her the opposite sex, but just another male crew member. If Number One doesn’t seem womanly enough, it’s because she’s stifled her femininity to survive in this man’s world. And if the new yeoman wants to make it anywhere, she better man up and act like a man.

Pure intellect has nothing on the sweaty, brute force of a dashing captain.

The marooned crew in distress turns out to be an illusion and Pike is trapped by a race of psychic beings with highly evolved brains. Years ago Talos IV became uninhabitable, forcing the Talosians underground where their brains grew to compensate for their weakened frames. Now they capture organisms and force them to mate in order to repopulate their planet. What a compelling villain, I thought. A great opportunity for a battle of the minds, a conflict between two rational species. I’d forgotten, though, that the target audience in 1966 had entered three wars in the past two decades.

“Surrender your hearts and minds or I’ll stun you in the groin.”

Pike epitomizes American imperialism. If he could, he would blast his way out in a cloud of Agent Orange. Instead, he resorts to flailing around his cage, certain that something will cave under his diamond-cutting jaw and metal-welding blue eyes. He doesn’t even touch the beautiful minx they’ve set aside for copulation. This isn’t mellow, smarmy William Shatner. This is righteous, exemplary Jeffrey Hunter. This man played Jesus.

“My Father can’t protect you now, aliens.”

If your guns don’t work, they’re not big enough.

While Pike beats his heads against a stone wall, the crew tries essentially the same tactic to break down the trapdoor leading underground. First, Spock and two crew members fire their lasers at the door. And again. Then once more, a little longer this time, for good measure. This doesn’t work, so they reconvene on the starship to assess the situation. With everyone’s heads together, they come up with a brilliant new plan: send down a giant laser cannon and fire it at the door.

“Welp. I’m out of ideas.”

Needless to say it doesn’t work. Some say insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results. I call it perseverance.

Man’s greatest virtue is hatred.

As Pike tries to force his way out of the cage, he notices that one of his captors starts back in apparent fear. The obvious conclusion here is that Pike’s primitive, human hatred neutralizes the Talosians’ psychic powers. Totally dependent on rational thought, these puny creatures are no match for humanity’s mastery of contempt.

“Don’t move or I’ll hate your head off.”

With two damsels in tow, Pike finally escapes by way of quick reflexes, coercion, and incapacitating a frail Talosian with pure antipathy. Little did Gene Roddenberry know that Star Trek would appeal to people who’d probably identify most with the Talosians.

“Jocks like you forced us underground to cultivate our minds and Magic: The Gathering collections in peace.”

It is better to cling to delusion than to accept reality.

They’re ready to be beamed back up to the Enterprise, but the captive woman refuses to leave Talos IV. The Talosians lift the psychic illusion, revealing the beautiful woman as the deformed old hag she truly is. Pike cringes in revulsion. I almost tapped that? he thinks. She cannot return to human society, not looking like that. Before leaving, Pike takes one last look and sees the old hag, beautiful again, arm in arm with an illusion of Pike created by the Talosians.

Don’t let reality happen to you.

Bartenders are dirty old men.

“Don’t touch me.”

J.J. Abrams Will Bring Balance to the Force

The entertainment world felt a tectonic shift when George Lucas handed his entire life’s work over to Disney. Since then, word on the imminent Star Wars trilogy has been spewing like lava, the most volcanic news being that of J.J. Abrams directing Episode VII. While the media jumps for joy at this goldmine of coverage and rumor, fanboys everywhere watch in shock, waiting to see if this is just another Orson Welles, War of the Worlds-type hoax.

“It’s emerging from the giant cylinder now… There are hundreds of tentacles… It’s J.J. Abrams! He’s absorbing another franchise! The horror!”

Before fans finished building their fallout shelters, J.J. Abrams released something of a mission statement, and it’s the only thing anyone wanted to hear: “I want to do the fans proud. I want to make sure the story is something that touches people.”

Abrams has proven himself as a director enough times to make the most die hard Star Wars fan feel at ease. His best work has been done as homage with a twist, from taking the reigns of Mission: Impossible and Star Trek to mimicking Steven Spielberg in Super 8. (Not that being a fan of the source material ever equals a good adaptation).

“Don’t even worry about the lines, John Carter. Can I call you John Carter?”

That’s why I’ve put together this list of do’s and don’t’s as a star chart for our ship’s new captain. Fortunately, the most obvious “do” is right in the above quote: make a story that matters on an emotional level. But it might be easy to get carried away with action and special effects when dealing with your favorite franchise.

“Speak for yourself.”

So, on behalf of every overly opinionated and entitled, and frankly nervous, fan out there, here’s how to do us proud.

Do Keep It in the Family

It might sound more like soap opera than space opera, but Darth Maul’s nephew doesn’t need to have a vendetta against Obi-Wan’s second cousin. George Lucas insists that Star Wars is about Anakin, while the fans say it’s all about Luke (if only to forget Hayden Christensen). Either way, Star Wars is about the Skywalkers, a special family whose own fate is inextricably linked to that of the whole galaxy. The temptation might be to revitalize the saga with hot, young actors, but the story has always rested on the shoulders of its older, wiser mentors. And it’s Mark Hamill’s turn to play that role.

He’s got a lot of work to do.

At the end of Episode VI, Luke is the last of the Jedi, like Obi-Wan once was before him. Episode VII will presumably introduce him as the first of a new generation. No one has any illusions about the original cast carrying the new film, and the last thing we want is Harrison Ford delivering more old-age jokes.

“I can’t make the Kessel run like I used to. More like 24 parsecs! Am I right?”

Besides, as a Jedi, Luke’s not supposed to engender a family. But the Skywalker blood (please, no midichlorians!) continues in Leia’s progeny with Han.

Don’t Get Bogged Down in Politics

The Original Trilogy was a formulaic hero’s journey, a children’s bedtime story of good versus evil. With the saga and its fans having aged 20 years, the Prequel Trilogy understandably had to show greater maturity. Hence the trade disputes, blockades, Senate hearings, and Chancellor elections.

At this rate, the new trilogy should revolve around Jedi marriage rights and the ethics of force lightning.

It will be music to any Hollywood producer’s ears that the more formulaic and cliched of the trilogies was the far more successful and resonant one. I personally appreciated the level of detail and complexity that Lucas added to the saga, but the politics were rather heavy-handed and time-consuming. Eventually, they became just another sticking point in fans’ grievances over the Prequel Trilogy. While no one laments added depth, the characters and their relationships should always remain in the foreground.

Do Hire the Best in Artistic Design

One of the best parts of Star Wars is the fantastic design work. The Original Trilogy introduced organic creatures, complex cultures, and lived-in environments. Dialogue and politics aside, the Prequel Trilogy boasted just as much imagination as, if not more than, the Original. The designs also have to make sense in context. One could easily explain away the apparent dilapidation of the Empire from Episode III to IV.

“Hey Darth, whatever happened to those droidekas? Are they still lying around?”

But it wouldn’t make much sense to see a huge jump in technology during the years between VI and VII as the galaxy recovers from an exhaustive war.

Don’t Underestimate Practical Effects

CGI has certainly revolutionized film. It’s allowed us to see pretty much anything that anyone can imagine on screen, and it’s gotten pretty damn believable. But don’t underestimate the audience’s ability to recognize authentic, physical production work. For The Lord of the Rings, Peter Jackson resolved to create an authentic Middle-Earth. So his departments at WETA fashioned handmade clothing, weaponry, and armor, and committed the same amount of detail to the makeup work. The result was both stunning and noticeable.

In other words, puppets work. They create a far greater sense of familiarity with the audience. Whereas Yoda used to be a cute, charming puppet, he later became an intangible and weightless bundle of ones and zeros. But this isn’t just about tradition and reminiscing over the OT. There’s a reason we become attached to real, physical puppets, even when they’re essentially a felt sock with googly eyes pasted on.

“Hey, cheer up, you don’t need a girlfriend! We’ll always have each other!”

Do Relax with the Lens Flare

This is a “Do,” not a “Don’t,” because it shouldn’t feel like a restriction. We want all of George’s imagination and creativity, and none of his direction. That’s what J.J. is for. Why not let him leave his stamp? If he wants to throw in a few of his distinctive lens flares, we’ll understand. Every director has his John Hancock. Spielberg has daddy issues, Michael Bay has explosions, and Tim Burton has Johnny Depp. Go ahead, remind us who to thank (or crucify) at the end of the movie. But at least let us see what’s happening on screen.

If you squint your eyes, you can tell there are actors.

Considering J.J.’s penchant for secrecy, at least we know he won’t let any unfortunate spoilers slip.

True Grit

For a few years now, the modern fanboy has been told that he wants realism. He thinks the raw, visceral action of the Bourne series is authentic and the unflinching torture porn of Saw is accurate. And realism was Christopher Nolan’s brilliant key to bringing Batman to the big screen. Of course, grittiness always just fit Batman snuggly, but who knew James Bond wore the same size in Casino Royale and Skyfall?

And that live-action Garfield could better represent our innate nihilism?

When Realism took root in literature in the mid 1800s, authors had humanitarian intentions as they shone their spotlight away from mankind’s sexy parts and onto its ingrown hairs and regrettable tattoos. But it’s hard to imagine that fanboys have the same intentions when they write pretentious blogs about how Han shot first (not that I would know anything about that).

I just felt that Batman didn’t truly capture the plight of the blogger living off his family’s wealth.

Social commentary is a great gesture, but audiences need frills and narrative conventions. Charles Dickens got his work published not because it brought awareness to the ills of the Industrial Revolution, but because of the grotesque characters and epic scope.

“A sir’s gotta get rich or die tryin.”

Don’t get me wrong, I jumped right onto the gritty bandwagon the moment X-Men opened with young Erik Lehnsherr unleashing his powers on a Nazi concentration camp. But maybe we got carried away when we started equating realism with “dark” and “edgy.” Peter Parker didn’t need to be a brooding prick and Miami Vice just wasn’t the same without pastels and loafers.

Let’s just be thankful Harry Potter ended before they started shopping at Hot Topic.

It seems even grittiness is starting to lose its gloss (or is it gaining gloss in this metaphor?). Marvel knew realism wouldn’t work for their fantastical catalog of characters. Indeed, Captain America’s greatest strength was its tone, skewing even further away from Nolan grit and bordering on parody. Even X-Men: First Class got away with it via a clever decade shift, incidentally to a time when James Bond was light-hearted and colorful.

“Do you expect me to talk?”
“No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to let loose and have a good time!”

The first trailers for Iron Man 3 forewent Tony Stark’s typical wit in favor of stake-raising and destruction as he delivered a heartfelt plea to Pepper Potts. And a recent MTV interview with Kevin Feige suggested Stark would be taken to some dark places. Let’s hope this doesn’t mark the end of Marvel’s comedic, sometimes downright invigorating, core.

As DC embarks on Justice League, it should be noted that the bar Marvel has raised sits largely on successes with tone. Not only did each film have a distinct tone, but Avengers miraculously combined every hero without compromising his respective tone. With Nolan’s Caped Crusader now laid to rest and Green Lantern beaten to death, it will be interesting to see if Man of Steel (admittedly another gritty reboot) will establish the tone for every subsequent project. And if that doesn’t work, maybe fans will finally have had enough of gritty realism.

Revenge of the Nerds

There was a time when fanboys had to settle for whatever the head honchos in Hollywood could crank out. They had the money, so they called the shots. And if they wanted Captain America to wear a humongous helmet, then by God he’d wear a humongous helmet.

Most of the costume budget went to cocaine and blue spray paint.

At first there must have been uncontrollable excitement at the prospect of seeing one’s favorite hero brought to the silver screen. This was quickly followed by the unforeseeable horror at one’s dream made reality by people who quite simply didn’t know what they were doing.

“Kill. Me.”

They were perverted anti-heroes. It was like watching porn through static. You might as well just doodle it in your notebook and cast your hot Math teacher as Catwoman. The literary world, the incubation chamber for all of the world’s magical stories, has undoubtedly taken the most, and lowest, blows. You don’t have to look further back than a year to find The Three Musketeers in 3D by Paul W.S. Anderson. Or Gulliver’s Travels, starring Jack Black. Readers have surrendered to the yearly beatings conferred by Hollywood like obedient dogs. Complaining at this point is as pointless as begging Nicolas Cage to be more selective.

“Let’s make this snappy. I’m doing a Bar Mitzvah at six.”

Comic book nerds, however, are far less forgiving, and they’ve turned the internet into a pack of ravenous, threatened wolves. And why shouldn’t they? When they demanded Matt Damon for Daredevil, they got his stiff best friend, Ben Affleck. When they anticipated a fearless, pure-hearted Green Lantern, they got Van Wilder.

“In brightest day, in blackest night,
No poontang shall escape my sight.”

They couldn’t even get Bruce Banner to turn into the Hulk because “Bruce” was “too gayish”, so they got the much manlier, heterosexual sounding “David” instead.

Then, something changed. No matter how ridiculous they sounded on paper, our dreams made it to the cinemas. And they looked, well, cool. They worked. I mean, why wouldn’t you cast Patrick Stewart as Professor X? Why shouldn’t every living classically trained British actor of note star in Harry Potter? There’s no better example of this than The Avengers, a project so vast, so ridiculous, and so long in the making that no one thought it could be done. That is, until Marvel hired the biggest nerd to write and direct it. Who better to make a superhero movie for fanboys than Joss Whedon, the dorkiest, most committed fanboy in the industry? It just goes to show that every snarky fan who ever quipped, “Why didn’t they just call me for help?” wasn’t asking for too much after all.

Sure, improvements in special effects did much to usher in this era. At least visually, anything was now possible.

“We’ll fix the story in post.”

It also didn’t hurt that all those angry fanboys of the 70s and 80s eventually grew up into filmmakers. Some of them devoted their lives to recreating Tron costumes and cosplaying at conventions. Thankfully, others yanked the reigns to huge Hollywood projects from producers and said “I’ve been daydreaming about this since I was six. I got this.”

But with this kind of power comes great responsibility. We’ve seen what Hollywood can do at its best. To most, anything short of that is unacceptable. High-end equipment is getting cheaper every day, and distribution is a YouTube upload away. Filmmaking is a transparent and democratic process now. In the words of Batman Begins’ Jim Gordon: “What about escalation?” They start writing stories, we start making fan fiction. They invent green screens, we transport ourselves wherever we want. They make movies, we make short films.

They buy armor-piercing rounds, we send in this guy.

This isn’t to say fans aren’t open to different interpretations. Tim Burton and Christopher Nolan are (almost) equally admired for their renditions of Batman. If your vision sucks, well, the fanboys will let you know. If you’re sensitive, I suggest you avoid the internet.