Poultry Patrol – “Left Behind” (2014)

What It IsLeft-Behind

The latest film version of the Tim LaHaye/Jerry Jenkins rapture novel, the first in a very long series. Basically, all the “real” Christians (and young kids) disappear and everyone else has to face the rise of the Antichrist. In this case, that includes an airline pilot played by Nicolas freaking Cage!

Why I Saw It

I grew up in a church that believed in this stuff, so I’ve had a lifelong morbid fascination with this – and all – apocalyptic scenarios. Plus, the earlier adaptation (starring Kirk Cameron) was hilariously awful, so I knew I was guaranteed a good time.

What I Learned

  • If you’re trying to convert people to Christianity, you shouldn’t make two atheists and a Muslim your only likable characters


Nice person


Nice person


Nice person

Guess who gets to go to Heaven?


Incredibly annoying person


Hunk McBonerson was already taken



  • Rayford Steele and Buck Williams would make great porn star names




  • It’s totally practical to be a flight attendant in 6 inch spike heels
  • Heaven has a No Pets policy


“Well, son of a bitch.”

  • When millions of people suddenly disappear, the only possible response is massive looting


“I just grabbed this sweet Xbox for my kid…..oh, wait.”







  • If you call your kid Raymie Steele, you should probably be grateful he’s getting raptured
  • Baton Rouge and New York City are basically the same place
  • No one involved in this movie has left the house since 1985


“The kids still hang out at these, right? And do the break dancing?”

  • A subdued Nicolas Cage is a boring Nicolas Cage


“Can I just get my check, please?”



“The Good Lie” – Review


“The Equalizer” – Review


“The November Man” – Review


“Rich Hill” – Review


“I Origins” – Review

New stuff at the Star:


“Begin Again” – Review


“Obvious Child” – Review


Central Standard Friday – 5/23/14

I got to review Blended, Chef, Godzilla, The Hornet’s Nest, & X-Men: Days of Future Past.


“Blended” – Review


So, I finally saw “Noah”…..

…..and I’m still not sure what I saw, exactly. A deeply weird attempt to turn a Bible story into a fantasy/action epic? A brilliant director’s fascinating struggle with issues of faith and justice? A psychodrama about a family under unthinkable duress?

Yes. Probably. Sort of.

It’s just too interesting not to write about. Lots of spoilers ahead.


“Glenn Beck fans! RUUUUNNN!!”

Darren Aronofsky is one of my favorite directors, and his filmography has a constant theme of obsessive characters who destroy themselves. Russell Crowe’s Noah is part of the same lineage as the mad math genius in Pi, the drug addicts in Requiem for a Dream and the doomed ballerina in Black Swan. They’re all reaching for something greater than themselves, only to discover that their goals are elusive, if they exist at all.

In Noah, the Creator does seem to exist, and is determined to destroy most of humanity.  Noah strives for righteousness, and he becomes as hard and unforgiving as the God who would wipe out His own creation. This character study, humanizing a figure who gets very little airtime in the Bible, is easily the best thing about Aronofsky’s approach. Crowe nails the portrayal of a man tortured by what he has been tasked with – or thinks he has.

The rest of the film is not as successful. The visuals are great, and the depraved world of villain Tubal-Cain (Ray Winstone) is impressively rendered, as is his attempt to overtake the ark when the deluge begins. It’s so cool-looking, you could almost forget about all the crazy.

Noah-Watcher V2 -luca nemolato

“For the last time, stop calling me Treebeard!”

I’m not just talking about the Ents rock monsters Watchers, either. Their story is pulled from that short passage in Genesis about the Nephilim, along with extra-biblical writings like The Book of Enoch, which talks about fallen angels being covered with “rough and jagged rocks” and bound in “the valleys of the earth.” Aronofsky and his co-writer, Ari Handel, get very creative with this concept, even having the Watchers help build the ark. It’s not quite as silly as it sounds, but it’s close.

We also get to meet Methuselah, Noah’s extremely aged grandfather, played by Anthony Hopkins. He lives in a cave, craves berries for some reason, and has magic powers (or hallucinogenics,or both). It’s a bizarre cameo which adds little to the film, except another Oscar winner (Jennifer Connelly’s in it, too).

The real fun(?) comes when Noah determines that all of humanity is supposed to die – including him and his family. They’re just around to keep the animals alive. Noah’s daughter-in-law is pregnant, and God isn’t sending him useful visions of what to do, so he is on the verge of committing infanticide. Only an innate feeling of love for his offspring keeps him from going through with it.

Mind you, he makes this decision without any help from the deity whose (albeit vague) directives led to all this in the first place. Does Noah’s act of mercy fulfill God’s will, or go against it? There were plenty of children killed in the flood. What makes these kids so special?

That is, of course, one of the big questions raised by both the movie and the Bible story. Is it really possible that every single person on Earth is evil, except this one guy and his family? We don’t see much of Noah’s world in either case, and what Aronofsky shows is a sparsely inhabited wasteland that couldn’t begin to sustain even its tiny population.

If the flood only ravages one area, then that explains the absurd notion that the entire planet could be repopulated by 8 people, most of whom are genetically related. Either there were others spared from the flood somewhere, or there’s going to be some serious inbreeding. That can’t be what the Creator (or the director) had in mind.

In virtually every way, Noah is an interesting failure, an attempt to make narrative and moral sense out of a story that doesn’t lend itself to the task. If he had made a straight-up fantasy or sci-fi version, Aronofsky might have pulled this off. By tying the film to a religious text whose tales are ostensibly set in the real world, he backs himself into a corner only divine intervention could get him out of.

"Harry Potter made more sense than this"

“Harry Potter made more sense than this”

"So did Thor"

“So did Thor”

“Oculus” – Review

Originally published in The Kansas City Star
April 11th, 2014

Though it reflects other horror films,
Oculus shimmers with tension.

  • 2 1/2 out of 4 stars

Oculus won’t haunt anyone’s nightmares, unless they haven’t seen a horror movie in a very long time. Glowy eyed ghouls and self-mutilation lost their shock value at least a decade ago.

What it has going for it is a slow, steady build-up of tension, leading to a final act that makes up in pure intensity what it lacks in originality. In a genre that so often relies on gore and lazy jump scares, that goes a long way.

Oculus is based on director Mike Flanagan’s 2006 short “Oculus: Chapter 3 — The Man With the Plan,” and it cleverly extends the premise. The plot centers on an antique mirror whose owners have a habit of dying mysteriously (and gruesomely). Siblings Kaylie and Tim (Karen Gillan and Brenton Thwaites) know this all too well, as they witnessed their
parents (Rory Cochrane and Katee Sackhoff) succumb to the thing’s murderous power 11
years ago. Tim spent his adolescence in a mental institution, while Kaylie was in foster care, increasingly obsessed with proving that her family’s tragic dissolution was supernatural.

Flanagan and co-writer Jeff Howard never fully explain what’s going on with the mirror, or what Kaylie ultimately hopes to accomplish when she purchases it and installs it in her childhood home. Convincing a reluctant, skeptical Tim to join her, Kaylie has an elaborate plan to monitor the mirror and its effects, and Gillan has some amusing early moments as she shows off her high-tech Ghost Hunters setup. Gillan and Thwaites make completely convincing siblings, as do Annalise Basso and Garrett Ryan, who play their younger selves in flashbacks.

Actually, they’re not so much flashbacks as visions, and this is another way in which Oculus stands out. The mirror controls its victims’ perception of reality, and Flanagan deftly does the same to viewers. It’s almost impossible to tell what’s really happening, which contributes greatly to the nerve-wracking nature of the last half-hour. With an assist
from the Newton brothers’ ominous musical score, Oculus gradually, inexorably tightens its grip.

While you’re trying to catch your breath, you may not notice how many horror clichés are being paraded across the screen. Flanagan borrows liberally from family- horror movies like The Shining and any number of stories about possessed objects. Thanks to its lack of backstory, the mirror is pretty innocuous, and the undead intruders it produces could have wandered out of any modern ghost or zombie flick. Even the “twist” ending isn’t as bold as it’s apparently supposed to be.

Flanagan does show promise as a director, and his skill makes Oculus effective enough to be worthwhile. If he keeps this up, he might make something really scary someday. Rated RLoey Lockerby.


Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2014/04/10/4948273/oculus-mirror-mirror-off-the-wall.html#storylink=cpy

“Cheap Thrills” – Review



Rome: Day 7 – Pompeii Who?

Our original plan was to trek south to Naples so we could see Pompeii, but time and money did not allow for such a journey.  One of my co-workers, Helen Park, suggested that if we couldn’t make that trip, we should visit Ostia Antica instead. It’s only about 30 miles from central Rome and easily accessible via the suburban rail lines. So, we took her advice.

Smart move. Th242e place is actually hard to describe – you’re walking on streets that don’t seem to have changed much in 2000 years. I won’t bore you with a long history (you can find that here), but the gist is this: Ostia was the main harbor city for Rome during the late Republic and Imperial eras. The fall of the Empire, coupled with environmental issues, led the city to be abandoned gradually and covered with layers of silt. Looting and invasions occurred, but they were minimal compared to what went on elsewhere, especially in Rome itself.

Now, it’s a massive archeological site, where you can climb on most of the structures, unassailed by a crush of tourists. Ostia should be much better known than it is, but it’s also nice to wander around without being rendered immobile by the crowds (hello, Vatican Museum!).


Gotta love a city where you’re greeted by the dead


She’ll have what the praetor on the floor is having


You enter through the necropolis, which is where Romans wisely buried their dead (or stored the ashes), outside the city proper. As you pass through the gates, you see remnants of a busy, working-class community’s daily life.


There are insulae, the apartment buildings average people lived in, stacked up along the stone streets. Shops, warehouses, and taverns are everywhere, including one where you can still sit at the bar.

Since public baths were popular places for business transactions, there are dozens of them, complete with elaborate mosaics. The amphitheater is still in good shape. Even the temples can be made out pretty well, although they’re generally less intact than other structures.

We spent four hours there, and I was ready to move in. We ate lunch at the visitors’ center and checked out the gift shop, then ventured to another beautiful spot, looking down over what we thought might be the western boundary of the city.

We were quite mistaken.


Only 6 more hours to go!

By this time, it was nearing sunset, and we were both tired. I could have gone on until we got kicked out, but Mom’s feet were not responding well to the pavements (or lack thereof). Plus, she wanted to go to the beach, which we had assumed we’d be doing by this time.

So, the other half of Ostia is on the bucket list for my next trip to Rome, and we will be spending more time at the beach. It was a little chilly for a full day there, but after Mom kindly indulged my historic (heh) nerdiness, the least I could do was make sure we walked along the shore for a while.

Exhausted as we were, we hopped on the train and went to Castel Fusano, the next-to-last stop on the rail line. The station was three blocks from the water, and since it was off-season, we had free run of the place. We admired the dark sands and tiny, shiny black seashells that cover the beach there. We wrinkled our noses at the jellyfish carcasses that had washed ashore.

And we saw the sunset. It may not have been the seaside excursion Mom was hoping for, but it was a lovely, peaceful way to end our last full day in this extraordinary place.




That night, we finally ate at the little restaurant a block away from our apartment, where the staff had invited us in every day since we arrived. We turned in early, and headed to the airport at waytoodamnearly o’clock. on Wednesday. We changed planes in Munich, which meant getting German stamps on our passports (although l don’t think it really counts if you never leave the airport). We arrived back in D.C. that night, physically destroyed, but absolutely thrilled.

The next day was a cold, rainy Halloween, so we stayed in our hotel room, watching horror movies on cable and ordering in our meals. Mom was still in pain from all the walking, and I had inexplicably gotten sick on the flight from Munich, so it took a full day to recover. We flew home Friday, ready to share our experience – and plan our next trip. Because we are definitely not done.

Final round of pictures below….

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“Divergent” – Review


Rome: Day 6 – Yes, We Are Tourists

119Monday was the day we finally stopped walking past the Colosseum and walked into it. We had reservations for a tour, one of the few times we didn’t just go the self-guided route, mostly because we were hoping to visit the underground areas (the hypogeum). Alas, they had suffered some recent water damage and weren’t safe, so we had to admire them from abovIMAG0767e.

Our guide, Patricia, was very nice and informative (and kind of short – we lost her for a bit as we moved from the Colosseum to the Forum). We climbed up to the top accessible level, which had incredible views, and marveled at what utter geniuses the ancient Romans were.  Ever been to a sports stadium with numbered entrances, sections, and rows?  Thank the guys who designed places like this. The tiered seating, the breezy walkways, the fancy sections for rich people – you can see the genesis of that right there at Il Colosseo.

They’ve built a half-floor out over the hypogeum, so you can get a sense of what it looked like before gladiators, animals, etc. popped up through trapdoors for their dramatic entrances. The hypogeum itself is quite elaborate, especially when you discover that it contained at least one tunnel that emerged at a nearby gladiator training facility.  We passed the ruins of this place daily, so there must be some significant artifacts buried under the neighborhood’s busy streets and buildings.


The Hypogeum


Gladiator barracks



The practice arena







The Colosseum is in remarkably good shape when you consider how many times it was attacked, looted, and hit by earthquakes over the years. The Forum Romanum, which is right next to it, is mostly rubble, although you can still see traces of its former grandeur.

144My favorite structure in the Forum is probably the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, dedicated to a deified emperor and his wife, which was later turned into a Christian church. The columns and some other decorative elements are still there, which makes it look like the church has been pushed up into the middle of the temple. Ironically, this appropriation of pagan sites is the only way many of them survived – being turned into a church meant not being obliterated when Christianity came to dominate the region (see Pantheon, The).  The Christians were determined to either wipe out or overwhelm every pagan site they could find, which meant not only turning temples into churches, but making sure the new churches were bigger and more elaborate than their competition. Then they started building other churches that were bigger than the previous ones.

The same phenomenon is at work in the triumphal arches, built by various emperors to commemorate their military victories. The Arch of Titus, from the 1st century, is 50 feet tall. Septimius Severus built one in the 3rd century that was 68 feet tall.  When Constantine built his in the 4th century, guess how tall it was?

69 feet.







Basically, the architectural history of Rome is one epic dick-measuring contest. This continued into the modern era, with the Victor Emmanuel monument (1925) and Mussolini’s Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana (1943) both towering over the city. The locals criticize their gaudiness, but they’re just continuing the time-honored tradition of “my giant structure is bigger than your giant structure”.


Laudamus te Saturne!

Anyway, the Forum is catnip for history aficionados. You’re walking the same streets as Julius Caesar, looking at statues of actual Vestal Virgins, sitting on the steps of the Temple of Saturn. Even in ruins, it’s thrilling.

We did all this before lunch. Click to read about the Pantheon and why I want to be reincarnated as a stray Roman cat.  Also, more pictures!





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William Shatner interview

Yeah, this happened:


“Jayhawkers” – Review


“The Wind Rises” – Review

Originally published in The Kansas City Star
February 28th, 2014

the-wind-rises-posterBEAUTIFUL, BUT HAUNTING

  • 2 1/2 out of 4 stars

In nearly every way, The Wind Rises is a typical biopic. It traces the life of a significant person (in this case, aviation engineer Jiro Horikoshi), checking off his accomplishments and placing them in historical context. It even has a love story.

What sets it apart is the peculiar style of Hayao Miyazaki, the legendary Japanese animator who wrote and directed (and who claims it will be his final film). With his vivid, gorgeous visuals — the film was nominated for an animation Oscar — and his penchant for dark fantasy, Miyazaki takes a straightforward tale and gives it an unexpected sideways kick.

That’s true for the first hour, anyway. Jiro is an imaginative child, fascinated by the possibilities of flight, and his dreams are rendered by Miyazaki as visions that morph into unsettling prophecies. Jiro (voiced by Joseph Gordon-Levitt in the English dubbed version) is growing up in the shadow of Japan’s militarization efforts, and he will go on to create planes used to drop bombs in World War II.

Even so, he’s just a young man with great talent and passion. He doesn’t like what his country is doing with his work, but he never seems too upset about it — he’s just a cog in the machine, doing what he loves the only way he can.

This moral quandary is addressed periodically, both in dialogue and in the overall tone. An early scene depicts Jiro’s survival of the Great Kanto Earthquake and its fiery aftermath, which devastated Japan in 1923. Miyazaki uses human voices to create the film’s sound effects, and the earthquake is like a monster coming to life, devouring everything it doesn’t set ablaze in its roaring fury.

That odd, doom-laden atmosphere permeates the sequences dealing with Jiro’s early life and career and offers the hope that Miyazaki will tackle the issues that simmer beneath the story’s surface. No such luck. About halfway through the movie, Jiro is reacquainted with Nahoko Satomi (Emily Blunt), whom he helped rescue during the earthquake. They
get married in fairly quick order, partly because she suffers from tuberculosis and doesn’t know how much time she has. While Jiro is still shown at work, Miyazaki’s focus drifts away from the details of fighter plane wing design and toward a completely different kind of

It’s no surprise to learn that the love story is fabricated, loosely adapted from the work of author Tatsuo Hori. Miyazaki is a romantic at heart, so the relationship between Jiro and Nahoko is sweet, but it also seems like an intentional distraction.

As Jiro’s planes become more beautiful and efficient, he helps his country overcome its
technological inferiority in the worst possible way. Miyazaki glosses over this — even when he acknowledges the coming destruction, he shows Jiro mourning the loss of all that fabulous aircraft more than any loss of life.

What starts as a complicated depiction of a genius in a harsh world becomes weighted down by contrivance and “just doing my job” denial. The Wind rises, but it never has the courage to soar. – Loey Lockerby