Knight at the Movies ARCHIVES
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The perfect summer no brainer blockbuster and the less than perfect one
X Men: The Last Stand begins with a flashback to a time when mutants Magneto (Ian McKellen) and Professor Charles Xavier
(Patrick Stewart) were comrades in arms. They’re busy rounding up other mutants for enrollment in their boarding school, home to a
lot of other mixed up mutant teens who don’t fit into society at large. They encounter a young Jean Grey whose telekinetic abilities
are so pronounced she lifts all the cars outside the window without a thought. “Oh Charles,” coos Magneto to Professor Xavier, who
smiles back knowingly, “I like this one.” The line is delivered by McKellen, who’s dressed in a divine purple velvet suit jacket, as if
he and his lover were picking up a hustler for a night’s entertainment.
Suddenly I remembered why I just ADORED the previous two X Men movies: they’re gay as a goose and X Men: The Last Stand is the
nelliest drag queen in the trio. Each time I step into the world of these comic book superhero superstars I get all het up – and isn’t
that the none too subtle message that all the subconscious prick teasing interplay between the characters is about? Gay subtext
aside (and there’s TONS of it), it’s a fun, fast paced (plenty of action, fear not) entry in the summer blockbuster sweepstakes that
won’t tax your brain before, during or after. Perfect.
The story jumps into something about Jean (Famke Janssen) returning from the dead with her Id unleashed which turns her into a
raving sex maniac. Her first victim is the classically beautiful Scott (James Marsten), Logan/Wolverine’s (Hugh Jackman) previous
competitor for Jean’s affections. After leaving only Scott’s sunglasses behind, Jean turns her attentions to Wolvy. Every time I first
see Logan/Wolverine in the person of Hugh Jackman in these movies, with his side burns and scowl, wearing that wife beater, jeans
and leather jacket, I realize that he’s the hustler that Charles and Magneto have been subconsciously fighting over from day one.
He’s a much more enticing bone of contention than that worn out “mutant power versus human power” nonsense the two old queens
are always bickering about (just for fun, mentally substitute the word “gay” every time someone says “mutant” on the screen and
“homosexuality” with “mutation.”)
Meanwhile Jean is busy unleashing her incredible powers (in a plot device very similar to Akasha the vampire queen in Queen of the
Damned) and a pharmaceutical company has developed a “cure” for mutation. The first one to take the plunge will be none other
than Warren Worthington III (Ben Foster), the son of the scientist who developed it. But after stripping out of his shirt and flexing
his rippling muscles (there is a God), WW III backs down at the last minute and literally spreads his wings and flies out the window.
Could there be a bigger gay metaphor than a golden curled lad fleeing from the supposed “cure” of his mutation to fly the friendly
skies out and proud, finding his true self at last?
There’s plenty more where that came from – including stylish Storm’s (Halle Berry) new short haircut (with the lightning bolt
highlights), a battle between the heat miser/snow miser young ‘uns for attention and favor, dazzling special effects, and another
favorite hallmark of the series – a lot of sniping and “I know you are but what am I” infighting among the mutants. Some will die,
some will survive, and everybody will look really terrific doing it. I can’t wait to see how that young Superman stacks up later this
summer – if he’s even half as sexed up as this crowd of “mutant” lookers he’s going to be one hell of a simulated f**k.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Since The Da Vinci Code first hit the bestseller lists the book has screamed for my attention every time I’ve walked into the
grocery store or Costco. “You haven’t read it?” friends would ask, “It’s really good.” These puzzled queries became more insistent
as the book moved into the rarified territory of “cultural phenomenon.” The ancillary merchandise – puzzles, games, etc. – started
piling up in the aisles of Target, the History Channel seemed to be running shows about it 24-7, and my sister told me she wanted
to go on an “authorized” Da Vinci Code tour throughout Europe. Still, though I’d picked up the book several times and gazed at the
portrait of the Mona Lisa on the cover, it never made it into my cart.
The largest part of my resistance had to do with my overriding love for movies. Once I realized that obviously any book this popular
was going to be made into a movie the die was cast. I’m a voracious reader but popular fiction is not usually my genre of choice
and I much prefer seeing the big bestsellers in their big screen transformations though the success of these, I admit, is spotty at
best. Have many great movies have been made from Stephen King, John Grisham or David Baldacci books? Uh-huh. Nevertheless,
I patiently waited throughout all the hype, the plagiarism trial, the protests by the Catholic Church about the book’s contents, and
the “controversy” over Tom Hanks’ long hair for the movie. By purposely flipping channels and averting my eyes online I managed
to make it to the screening with only a hazy idea about what I had come to assume was a mystery thriller.
Well, The Da Vinci Code is certainly a mystery but one so dense with mind numbing back story as to almost make your brain hurt. It
is the visual equivalent of a Rubik’s Cube – one sits patiently as its characters talk and talk until they figure out the next clue, the
next piece of the riddle. These are interspersed with a series of not particularly believable chase sequences. Basically the movie is
talk/chase/talk/chase for two and a half hours. But again, the talk is dense and the thrills are incredulous and negligible. “We’ve
been dragged into this world by people who take this seriously,” Tom Hanks says at one point perfectly summoning up the exact
problem with the movie. It’s weighed down by the supposed importance of all the religious claptrap. The idea of Da Vinci leaving
clues in his paintings is tantalizing but is ultimately as gimmicky as hearing “Paul’s Dead” when playing Sgt. Peppers’ backwards.
The premise is thus: Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks), a history professor, author and expert in symbolism and the petite police
woman Sophie Neveu (Audrey Tautou) meet when Sophie’s grandfather is found murdered in the Louvre. The chief inspector,
Captain Fache (Jean Reno) sends for Langdon, who had an appointment to meet the grandfather earlier in the day ostensibly to see
if he can shed any light on the crime scene. Apparently after being shot at close range, the elderly gentleman stripped off his
clothes, carved symbols into his naked chest and wrote out a series of numbers that are of course believed to be clues to his killer.
The Da Vinci connection arises shortly thereafter.
We know the murderer is the obsessed mad albino, Silas (Paul Bettany) because we’ve seen him do the shooting in the opening
scene. At this point we’ve also seen Silas strip down in his meager room and had a good look at his muscular white body riddled
with scars as he flagellates himself with a much used whip. Silas seemed to fall right in step with a long line of quirky James Bond
villains – Rosa Kleb with her knife wielding shoe, Blowfeld with his shark tank, Jaws with his steel teeth, etc. For much of the rest of
the picture, Silas will skitter around Paris wearing a monk robe and not draw so much as a glance. Nor do we get the fun of watching
Silas go up against a Bond type character. Giving Bettany as the mad monk a run for his money in the ham acting department are
Alfred Molina and Sir Ian McKellen as a rogue priest and a fabulously wealthy Da Vinci scholar. But they add a bit of juicy support to
the paper thin leads played by Hanks and Tautou.
Everyone is either protecting or trying to unearth one of those secret societies that the characters care about but we do not.
Apparently, this group is covering up a secret so provocative that the Catholic Church has spent centuries trying to stamp it out. I will
not reveal the intricacies of the carefully worked out plot any further.
The end result is not quite the Dud Vinci Code as many reviewers have said nor is it a masterpiece either. Though none of the
lightness, fleet of foot or humor that lifted National Treasure, another movie whose plot turns on antique artifacts is apparent here,
this is still a workmanlike effort – par for the course from director Ron Howard. Perhaps now would be a good time, at long last, to
go back and read the book as I felt at the movie’s conclusion just as Tom Hanks did when he commented at one point “I’m out of
my field here.” What was all the fuss about?
*X-Men: The Last Stand screened after my WCT deadline but in time for me to include it here. It will be included in my WCT print
column next Wednesday.
(Patrick Stewart) were comrades in arms. They’re busy rounding up other mutants for enrollment in their boarding school, home to a
lot of other mixed up mutant teens who don’t fit into society at large. They encounter a young Jean Grey whose telekinetic abilities
are so pronounced she lifts all the cars outside the window without a thought. “Oh Charles,” coos Magneto to Professor Xavier, who
smiles back knowingly, “I like this one.” The line is delivered by McKellen, who’s dressed in a divine purple velvet suit jacket, as if
he and his lover were picking up a hustler for a night’s entertainment.
Suddenly I remembered why I just ADORED the previous two X Men movies: they’re gay as a goose and X Men: The Last Stand is the
nelliest drag queen in the trio. Each time I step into the world of these comic book superhero superstars I get all het up – and isn’t
that the none too subtle message that all the subconscious prick teasing interplay between the characters is about? Gay subtext
aside (and there’s TONS of it), it’s a fun, fast paced (plenty of action, fear not) entry in the summer blockbuster sweepstakes that
won’t tax your brain before, during or after. Perfect.
The story jumps into something about Jean (Famke Janssen) returning from the dead with her Id unleashed which turns her into a
raving sex maniac. Her first victim is the classically beautiful Scott (James Marsten), Logan/Wolverine’s (Hugh Jackman) previous
competitor for Jean’s affections. After leaving only Scott’s sunglasses behind, Jean turns her attentions to Wolvy. Every time I first
see Logan/Wolverine in the person of Hugh Jackman in these movies, with his side burns and scowl, wearing that wife beater, jeans
and leather jacket, I realize that he’s the hustler that Charles and Magneto have been subconsciously fighting over from day one.
He’s a much more enticing bone of contention than that worn out “mutant power versus human power” nonsense the two old queens
are always bickering about (just for fun, mentally substitute the word “gay” every time someone says “mutant” on the screen and
“homosexuality” with “mutation.”)
Meanwhile Jean is busy unleashing her incredible powers (in a plot device very similar to Akasha the vampire queen in Queen of the
Damned) and a pharmaceutical company has developed a “cure” for mutation. The first one to take the plunge will be none other
than Warren Worthington III (Ben Foster), the son of the scientist who developed it. But after stripping out of his shirt and flexing
his rippling muscles (there is a God), WW III backs down at the last minute and literally spreads his wings and flies out the window.
Could there be a bigger gay metaphor than a golden curled lad fleeing from the supposed “cure” of his mutation to fly the friendly
skies out and proud, finding his true self at last?
There’s plenty more where that came from – including stylish Storm’s (Halle Berry) new short haircut (with the lightning bolt
highlights), a battle between the heat miser/snow miser young ‘uns for attention and favor, dazzling special effects, and another
favorite hallmark of the series – a lot of sniping and “I know you are but what am I” infighting among the mutants. Some will die,
some will survive, and everybody will look really terrific doing it. I can’t wait to see how that young Superman stacks up later this
summer – if he’s even half as sexed up as this crowd of “mutant” lookers he’s going to be one hell of a simulated f**k.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Since The Da Vinci Code first hit the bestseller lists the book has screamed for my attention every time I’ve walked into the
grocery store or Costco. “You haven’t read it?” friends would ask, “It’s really good.” These puzzled queries became more insistent
as the book moved into the rarified territory of “cultural phenomenon.” The ancillary merchandise – puzzles, games, etc. – started
piling up in the aisles of Target, the History Channel seemed to be running shows about it 24-7, and my sister told me she wanted
to go on an “authorized” Da Vinci Code tour throughout Europe. Still, though I’d picked up the book several times and gazed at the
portrait of the Mona Lisa on the cover, it never made it into my cart.
The largest part of my resistance had to do with my overriding love for movies. Once I realized that obviously any book this popular
was going to be made into a movie the die was cast. I’m a voracious reader but popular fiction is not usually my genre of choice
and I much prefer seeing the big bestsellers in their big screen transformations though the success of these, I admit, is spotty at
best. Have many great movies have been made from Stephen King, John Grisham or David Baldacci books? Uh-huh. Nevertheless,
I patiently waited throughout all the hype, the plagiarism trial, the protests by the Catholic Church about the book’s contents, and
the “controversy” over Tom Hanks’ long hair for the movie. By purposely flipping channels and averting my eyes online I managed
to make it to the screening with only a hazy idea about what I had come to assume was a mystery thriller.
Well, The Da Vinci Code is certainly a mystery but one so dense with mind numbing back story as to almost make your brain hurt. It
is the visual equivalent of a Rubik’s Cube – one sits patiently as its characters talk and talk until they figure out the next clue, the
next piece of the riddle. These are interspersed with a series of not particularly believable chase sequences. Basically the movie is
talk/chase/talk/chase for two and a half hours. But again, the talk is dense and the thrills are incredulous and negligible. “We’ve
been dragged into this world by people who take this seriously,” Tom Hanks says at one point perfectly summoning up the exact
problem with the movie. It’s weighed down by the supposed importance of all the religious claptrap. The idea of Da Vinci leaving
clues in his paintings is tantalizing but is ultimately as gimmicky as hearing “Paul’s Dead” when playing Sgt. Peppers’ backwards.
The premise is thus: Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks), a history professor, author and expert in symbolism and the petite police
woman Sophie Neveu (Audrey Tautou) meet when Sophie’s grandfather is found murdered in the Louvre. The chief inspector,
Captain Fache (Jean Reno) sends for Langdon, who had an appointment to meet the grandfather earlier in the day ostensibly to see
if he can shed any light on the crime scene. Apparently after being shot at close range, the elderly gentleman stripped off his
clothes, carved symbols into his naked chest and wrote out a series of numbers that are of course believed to be clues to his killer.
The Da Vinci connection arises shortly thereafter.
We know the murderer is the obsessed mad albino, Silas (Paul Bettany) because we’ve seen him do the shooting in the opening
scene. At this point we’ve also seen Silas strip down in his meager room and had a good look at his muscular white body riddled
with scars as he flagellates himself with a much used whip. Silas seemed to fall right in step with a long line of quirky James Bond
villains – Rosa Kleb with her knife wielding shoe, Blowfeld with his shark tank, Jaws with his steel teeth, etc. For much of the rest of
the picture, Silas will skitter around Paris wearing a monk robe and not draw so much as a glance. Nor do we get the fun of watching
Silas go up against a Bond type character. Giving Bettany as the mad monk a run for his money in the ham acting department are
Alfred Molina and Sir Ian McKellen as a rogue priest and a fabulously wealthy Da Vinci scholar. But they add a bit of juicy support to
the paper thin leads played by Hanks and Tautou.
Everyone is either protecting or trying to unearth one of those secret societies that the characters care about but we do not.
Apparently, this group is covering up a secret so provocative that the Catholic Church has spent centuries trying to stamp it out. I will
not reveal the intricacies of the carefully worked out plot any further.
The end result is not quite the Dud Vinci Code as many reviewers have said nor is it a masterpiece either. Though none of the
lightness, fleet of foot or humor that lifted National Treasure, another movie whose plot turns on antique artifacts is apparent here,
this is still a workmanlike effort – par for the course from director Ron Howard. Perhaps now would be a good time, at long last, to
go back and read the book as I felt at the movie’s conclusion just as Tom Hanks did when he commented at one point “I’m out of
my field here.” What was all the fuss about?
*X-Men: The Last Stand screened after my WCT deadline but in time for me to include it here. It will be included in my WCT print
column next Wednesday.
Blockbusters:
X Men: The Last Stand and The Da Vinci Code
5-24-06 Knight at the Movies/Windy City Times Column*
By Richard Knight, Jr.
X Men: The Last Stand and The Da Vinci Code
5-24-06 Knight at the Movies/Windy City Times Column*
By Richard Knight, Jr.
