"I time every journey, to bump into you...accidentally..."
- Franz Ferdinand's Dark of the Matinee.
I suppose, like anything (and uh, beauty), romance is in the eye of the beholder.
After becoming impossibly smitten (sounds way better than obsessed, right?) with a young woman I went to college with, I began to have a lot of official business...that would perhaps make an encounter with her possible. Or, probable. She worked on campus as a S.T.A.R. (a student something-something resource), and all of a sudden, I had a lot more work to do in the library. And the computer lab. And just about wherever I learned she would be. I wasn't quite moving tiny pieces around a map of southern Connecticut while wearing a bicorne, but it might have been close. Even if it ultimately worked out, getting a girl to notice you probably shouldn't be so...
...strategic.
While that girl and I have since pledged til death do us part, my initial pursuit of her anyway, didn't immediately jeopardize her life-expectancy (though the act of marrying me may ultimately be hazardous). In 2016's ill-received Passengers, however, falling in love goes hand-in-end with a fiery death, as two potential lovers find themselves awoken out of hyper-sleep ninety years too soon. You had me at 'we're going to die alone'.
As the megaship Avalon majestically soars through the galaxy toward a better life, an asteroid strike results in one of the 5,000 sleeping, uh, passengers, to awaken. Jim Preston (the now unlikable? Chris Pratt), a mere mechanic, comes to to find himself utterly alone in space. Initially, it's kind of cool having the ship to himself, but even Kevin McCallister eventually got tired of eating junk and watching rubbish. With over 90 years left in the journey to Homestead II, and any hope of correspondence taking almost as long, Jim's left with a tough choice. Die alone. Or...
...kill someone else.
And friends, this is where the movie peaks, as this simple concept alone is intrinsically fascinating. Jim finds himself popping the cork on a bottle of Aurora Lane (Jennifer Lawrence, looking fine), after obsessively reading (and re-reading) her profile on the ship's log. This wasn't a decision he made lightly, as he had one or two deep conversations with the Avalon's robotic bartenderBishop Arthur, before he decided to help her sleep chamber, accidentally malfunction, too.
See, I happen to really like the idea of a poor sap basically dooming a beautiful woman to death in the name of love, because this is exactly the kind of selfish/pathetic bullshit I could see myself doing. Jim could ride it out, and hope the ship bequeaths him a playmate, but instead he takes action, dooming Aurora to a shared dismal existence. And, and!, he doesn't even buy something else with his condoms (you know, the ol' cover item) and open up somebody else, too. Nope. He just picks the hottest chick he can find and says f--k it, she'll have no other options. Classic guy move, right there.
While the rest of the film is full of equal parts intrigue/every sci-fi movie cliche in the history of cinema (an odd pair, I realize), I enjoyed director Morten Tyldum's grown-up take on Wall-e more than most. Sure, Pratt and Lawrence are sexy and game, but the real star of the show is the ship. I didn't really need more time on the Aurora (this movie is long enough, trust me), but I sure as Hell loved what I was given.
Speaking of cold, cool and creepy, here are the Yays and Boos. Depending on when the machines take over and harvest our bodies for electricity, they may in fact live forever. Or at least until my wife inevitably jettisons my laptop into the sun. Whichever comes first.
Yaaaaaaaaaay!
- Franz Ferdinand's Dark of the Matinee.
I suppose, like anything (and uh, beauty), romance is in the eye of the beholder.
After becoming impossibly smitten (sounds way better than obsessed, right?) with a young woman I went to college with, I began to have a lot of official business...that would perhaps make an encounter with her possible. Or, probable. She worked on campus as a S.T.A.R. (a student something-something resource), and all of a sudden, I had a lot more work to do in the library. And the computer lab. And just about wherever I learned she would be. I wasn't quite moving tiny pieces around a map of southern Connecticut while wearing a bicorne, but it might have been close. Even if it ultimately worked out, getting a girl to notice you probably shouldn't be so...
...strategic.
As the megaship Avalon majestically soars through the galaxy toward a better life, an asteroid strike results in one of the 5,000 sleeping, uh, passengers, to awaken. Jim Preston (the now unlikable? Chris Pratt), a mere mechanic, comes to to find himself utterly alone in space. Initially, it's kind of cool having the ship to himself, but even Kevin McCallister eventually got tired of eating junk and watching rubbish. With over 90 years left in the journey to Homestead II, and any hope of correspondence taking almost as long, Jim's left with a tough choice. Die alone. Or...
...kill someone else.
And friends, this is where the movie peaks, as this simple concept alone is intrinsically fascinating. Jim finds himself popping the cork on a bottle of Aurora Lane (Jennifer Lawrence, looking fine), after obsessively reading (and re-reading) her profile on the ship's log. This wasn't a decision he made lightly, as he had one or two deep conversations with the Avalon's robotic bartender
 |
| You know what would really ease the tension? A velociraptor. On a dirtbike. |
While the rest of the film is full of equal parts intrigue/every sci-fi movie cliche in the history of cinema (an odd pair, I realize), I enjoyed director Morten Tyldum's grown-up take on Wall-e more than most. Sure, Pratt and Lawrence are sexy and game, but the real star of the show is the ship. I didn't really need more time on the Aurora (this movie is long enough, trust me), but I sure as Hell loved what I was given.
Speaking of cold, cool and creepy, here are the Yays and Boos. Depending on when the machines take over and harvest our bodies for electricity, they may in fact live forever. Or at least until my wife inevitably jettisons my laptop into the sun. Whichever comes first.
 |
| In the future, cock-blocking robots will be ever so handsome. |
- My wife isn't really one to curse. And initially, when I told her that I rented a film with Pratt and Lawrence, she was good. Then the previews started, she cocked an eye at me, awww, is this about space and shit? Damn, slow your roll, Eazy-E.
- As I mentioned, the ship is awesome. Every room, every sexy curved line. Even if I'm not awake to appreciate it...sign me up.
- Way cooler than the guy who drives your cab in Total Recall, but not quite Fassbender riding a unicycle and shooting baskets, Arthur the robotic bartender (Michael Sheen) dude f--king rules. Well, at least initially.
- I guess when you end up alone, uh, anywhere, you go full-Castaway with the facial hair. Oh, and you lose your f--king mind a bit, too. Both results? I'm in favor of.
- Okay, we've gone too far without talking about how sexy JLaw is in this flick. From the jogging outfit, to the Jetson's-style pool attire, all the way down to an evening among adults, I was a fan of who was easily the hottest chick on the ship.
- And not only is she fine, but let's just say she really upgrades breakfast. And the dining hall in general, frankly.
- This might be a Boo, but I dug the whole DDR-style videogame they played. Though, to be honest, if that was the only game I had access to for the rest of my life, I might just kill myself. By masturbating.
- What? Morpheus shows up? And he's talking about taking pills? Dreams do come true!
- Swimming in zero gravity sounds amazing. Looks cool, too. But, uh..the fact that there's no way out? Kind of a bummer.
- And finally, I'm still stoked on the whole ultimate dick-move/super romantic gesture that this whole movie is based on. I love what it says about human nature and the things we do for others...and ourselves. If only my wife hadn't drifted off to hyper-sleep, I could have found out what a woman thought of Jim's actions. [Next time, I'll stalk, er, serenade a woman who can function after 10:30, perhaps (assuming she wises up and bails on me)]
 |
| Let's watch a classic film. Should we watch Jurassic World or Men in Black III? Ew, f--k. Men in Black III, obviously. |
Boooooooooo!
- Really? We needed a Pratt butt shot? And nothing from JLaw to counter it? Weak! (to be fair, I've actually seen enough of her in the nude [sorry])
- Earth is overpopulated and overpriced? Is this a documentary?
- 19 years to get a message back from customer service? Was this ship funded by Amazon?
- Ooohhh, Jim desperately tries to get back into his sleep pod. Jim, what the f--k man? When you take it out for a long time, you can't just jam it back in and hope for the best.
- Suicidal thoughts. Not cool, man. I get it, fine. But sending yourself into the depths of space? Lame. My vote is let's re-route to the Prometheus planet and take our chances fighting some naked, albino guys near a waterfall.
- I loved the idea that Jim considers whether or not he should open up Aurora (uh, her sleep pod, perv). Guys. You know it. I know it. Once some form of sexual thought enters your mind...there's no going back. That sounds way more rapey than it should (I'm more referring to the Carlson Rule).
- So, when he finally wakes her up, er, comes to her awakening...coincidentally, he attempts a gentlemanly, I'll walk you to your room? She flatly denies him. Yep, it's like being married. Uh, hun, I've been jerking off for 19 months, would you mind-- I'M GOING TO BED. Oh, okay. That's fine. *places gun in mouth*
- Hey, Arthur! Thanks for the assist. Hey, bud, could I trouble you for a nice warm glass of shut the Hell up?
- Gus, my man! Finally somebody who knows what the Hell's going on? How about a hug? Oh what's that? You've got every disease and disorder in the known universe? Uh...I think a nod will suffice.
- And finally, the ending. I guess it's all happy and sappy, but I wanted something shocking and risky. (or at least, interesting) Fine, I would have settled for a romantic hand-hold...as they get eviscerated by the ship exploding into a million pieces. No? Okay, how about a double-suicide...moments before the ship announces Prepare for landing. Too bleak? F--k. Okay. How about everybody lives happily ever after...in the biggest space orgy ever.
If all things work out for me, I'll never again have to work so hard to get a woman's attention and affection. I mean, I got the girl. Mission accomplished, right? We're married. Like, forever.
I'll never have to jump through all those hoops again.
I'll never have to steer conversations in certain directions, potentially leading to more, um, ideal circumstances.
I'll never have to plan things out ahead of time, just so there's a chance we could be alone.
And I'll never, ever have to go way the Hell out of my way just so she'll notice I'm alive. We're way beyond that, now.
*whispers* So...this 90 year journey to another planet thing?
That's real, right?