I re-watched X-Men – The Last Stand (aka X-Men 3) today, and with the commentary. It’s hard to take the commentary seriously, which is to say, when the director and writers talk about how much they “love” a certain shot, I can’t always tell whether they’re being snarky — most of the time — or sincere. It is clear that most of the time they’re being snarky, but it’s a “Boy Who Cried Wolf” thing — I can’t take any praise they lavish on anyone as sincere or real. It’s all a crock, which makes the commentary rather useless, no?
B. Ratner pretends that there is depth, not in meaning but with regard to the layering of his movie and how much “X-Men canon/mythology” he and the writers used. But that, too, is an aesthetic and experiential crock. These details, layers, and the like — these are things you can’t really experience watching the movie. You have to dissect it and re-watch it many times. You have to know outside material. It’s the worst of pop-postmodernism. If a character, who is supposedly a “reference” to something else, is on screen for a second, out of focus, in the shadowy background, that’s not helpful, useful, whatever. Other aspects require only that you know the comics (even if it requires a bit of knowledge about them); your memory and imagination do the rest. See Chris Claremont and Stan Lee on their yards in the first scene? That works.
I contrast that with B. Singer’s X-Men movies, which had a “style” to them, real production design, not just design elements, not just details. Ratner goes on about how this or that matched what Singer did, or they re-used this, etc. But there is no feeling at all, even though Ratner & Co. like to talk about aspects being artistic or satisfying in an artistic way, that any creativity was lavished on this production.
I still like it as an X-Men and action flick. That’s what it is. The alternate endings that are in the deleted scenes — quite rightly they were cut. But what sort of director shoots four endings and just chooses one? Even if it was the right choice, the process is all wrong. It shows a complete lack of vision.
This evening I think I might read more Tad Wiliams, though it is about 9p.m. and I could put a movie in.
Leena called today to confirm information about the reunion; she hadn’t read the email I sent days ago, though. I have no problem with people reading emails and not replying, or noticing they’re there but not reading or replying immediately. But to not even notice new, week-old mail in an account you check and which you’re looking for?
Excuse me.
I still need to hear back from Nate, too. Leena mentioned talking to Keith (Hi, Keith!) recently, and to Ashley (Hi, Ashley!). My flight home is late Sunday evening from Ontario but through LAX, and Leena wonders whether I could just fly out of LAX and skip the Ontario-to-LAX leg, for if so, I could spend Sunday afternoon in Santa Monica and get a 9-10p.m.-ish ride to the airport.
In all the years in lived in So-Cal I never once made it to Santa Monica.
I made it through the Red Hot Chili Peppers today, so I’m that much closer to finishing “R.” Regina Spektor is next, and I have her album Soviet Kitsch, which I first heard or listened to while I was in Berlin, I believe. Last summer (June).
Now: time for some Giant 47 Pound Rooster zin.
