Much like Ed Wood, however, there is a similar lack of understanding of the use of film techniques, story-telling, and other fundamentals.  Every now-and-then, Boll manages to get a scene right (although it’s probably dubious who’s actually responsible for the minor successes).  In the latest Greatest Movie Ever Podcast on Boll’s Far Cry, Paul Chapman and Jeff “Rich Lather” Tatarek mention this trend in Boll’s later movies.  Rampage follows this trend.  Not all of the movie is horrible, and in some cases one can see what Boll is trying to do.  The end result, however, still fails to achieve anything close to a deep, meaningful cinematic experience.  In some cases, that wouldn’t be that much of a problem; were Rampage just supposed to be a dumb action movie, one could hardly criticize it for failing.  But Rampage is full of Boll’s attempts to do something more meaningful, and that is its primary failing.

Of course, no Boll movie would be complete if it didn’t fail at the very basics, and for Rampage that happens at the very beginning.  Much of the first 40 minutes of the movie consists of flash-forwards.  In fact, one of the first scenes in the movie is one of the last.  Boll appears to be trying to be clever, but the scenes are presented with no context, nothing to connect them to what’s going on in the actual scene.  The most obvious of these is Bill, our rampager, shirtless, pouring gasoline into a  barrel, and setting it on fire.  We’re supposed to assume that it has some sort of importance given its prominence at the beginning of the film, but in the end it’s just a bit of plot.  It has the appearance of significance, but no real symbolic meaning.  In a similar way, interspersed with the flash-forwards are clips of Bill in front of a white background, and while these are explained later in the film, that explanation becomes one of its major problems.

Another “filmic” technique that Boll gets wrong is the random clips of news and talk show audio at different points in the film.  The suggestion is that Bill is listening to these while doing something else (such as hitting a punching bag, driving, or getting ready for his rampage).  Just like with the previous clips, you get the idea that Boll is using this for a purpose (in this case he’s building up his case for Bill’s rampage, a kind of audible explanation), but there are a couple problems with this.  First, the clips are random and general.  At no point does Boll relate these specifically to Bill’s character.  Second, they invite the question “Who’s changing the channel?”  If no one’s changing the channel, if we accept that this is an artistic technique, then they are there for the audience.  But that takes us back to the first point, and the weakness of the film’s support for its theme.

The key to a film like this is the buildup; we have to emotionally connect to both the main character and his situation.  The obvious comparison for this movie is Falling Down starring Michael Douglas, and the parallels are not just in general situation, although that is a good place to start.  The emotional connection fails as soon as characters begin speaking.  The dialog is incredibly stilted and flat; this might be appropriate for our main character, but his parents are the worst offender.  My first thought was that they must be badly improvising, and it appears that is basically what happened; the Netflix description mentions that much of the dialog was improvised.  Thus, an experienced actor like Matt Frewer (Bill’s dad; not a phenomenal actor, but by no means bad) comes off looking like he doesn’t know where the scene is going.  Bill’s mom, played by Lynda Boyd (and actress I’m not familiar with, but who has a large enough filmography to make me think she’s normally not horrible) is even worse; she stumbles through lines, each sounding like she’s just thought of the words but not how to say them.  Improvisation is about responding and reacting to others, and I never got the feeling that the actors were actually in dialog with each other; instead, as often happens with bad or inexperienced improvisers, they sound like they’re talking at each other. The end result of this is that at no point are we emotionally invested in the situation; neither in Bill, nor his parents, nor his friend Evan, no one carries any emotional weight, and thus the events of the film don’t really matter.

So, what about his situation?  Surely some string of events, even a string of minor-but-concentrated frustrations that represent the ever-present oppression of modern society, conspire to turn our boy into a mass murderer?  Nope, nothing like that at all.  Basically, our boy is a closet Malthusian (there’s too many people in his small, uncrowded town with acres of undeveloped forest teeming with no one but paintball players), his parents are bugging him about going to college or some sort of trade school, and his boss wants him to work for his paycheck.  That’s pretty much it.  He has a bit of trouble in a coffee shop (his macchiato wasn’t foamy enough)and in a blindingly obvious nod to Falling Down, a fast-food worker inexplicably spills food on him.  Apart from his boxing (which he does in the morning while mom bugs him about breakfast; I mean, how dare she make breakfast for him and expect him to eat it while it’s hot?!) we see very little frustration, very little pushing him over the edge.

In fact, he’s already over-the-edge.  The whole rampage has been carefully planned; he’s getting mysterious packages sent to his friend’s house as a not-so-subtle frame-up, and working on a remote-controlled van (one of the only interesting plot points).  So in the end, all the things we see in the film are just there rather than directly contributing to his decision to murder innocent people.

The scene in the “Chicken Den” is really the worst offender here because it hearkens back to Falling Down.  Michael Douglas’s frustration at the arbitrariness of the 10:30 cut-off time for breakfast and the poor quality of the lunch he is able to purchase is a classic.  Instead, we get some hamfisted commentary in the vein of “This is what American’s eat.”  I think the actor playing Evan attempted to parallel Falling Down further by commenting on the quality of his salad, but this may be an example of improvisation failing.  Furthermore, after rewatching the scene I still can’t figure out what the cashier was trying to do.  She’ walks up, mumbles something, and tries to close the container Bill is eating from.  It’s like Boll told her to knock over the drinks on the table, but didn’t given her anything to do to facilitate that, and she couldn’t think of a valid reason to go over there (since rarely does a fast-food worker actually come to your table).

Other illogical occurrences also plague the film.  Bill counterfeits some money, but then robs a bank and burns the money as a statement about the meaninglessness of money.  However, he also plants a bag of money (I suppose the counterfeit bills) on Evan as part of the setup.  Why did he counterfeit the money in the first place?  Why not just use the real money from the bank?  Also, we find out at the very end of the film that the clips of Bill in front of a white background are part of a manifesto, an explanation.  Why did he record himself explaining the rampage when he intended to pin it on Evan all along?  Is he just breaking the fourth wall?  If so, why didn’t he start earlier?

Movies should raise questions in their viewers minds, but those questions shouldn’t undermine the film.  Boll succeeds at the former, but fails at the later. 

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@rigby_eleanor Yeah… It'll be something to show my kids. in reply to rigby_eleanor #

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First, I had already been using Netflix streaming on the Xbox 360 for a lot of my TV and movies. The experience is so good that Netflix is my primary source; if it’s on Netflix, that’s where I watch it. Because of the way Netflix works (these are generally things available on DVD), these shows are older.  So, here are the things I’m watching on Netflix.

Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex is a great example of what animation can do.  The show takes place in the near future, as people begin to become more and more “plugged in.”  Some are more artificial than others: cybernetics range from implants that allow a person to be constantly connected to the Internet to fully cybernetic bodies, such as that of the main character, Major Kusanagi.  Ghost in the Shell also represents on of the great failings of anime companies in North America.  This is a show that should have been on TV in the same time slot as 24 or Law and Order, not late night on Cartoon Network.  It’s a perfect example of truly adult animation.

Robotech: The Macross Saga is a beast of a different nature.  This is one of those shows that I have a great deal of nostalgia for as it was one of the first Japanese cartoons I remember watching.  Fortunately, unlike some of my other childhood favorites (G.I. Joe and Thundercats, for example), this one is still watchable after twenty-five years.

Although I didn’t watch all of it, Jen also watch most of season one of Arrested Development, which, despite personal recommendations from my brother David and a lot of positive reviews we never got around to watching.  The show is definitely great, and I will probably go back and watch the episodes I missed as I was doing other things while Jen marathoned them.

The second piece of hardware instrumental in getting rid of cable is a five-year-old laptop coupled with an IR remote sensor.  I’ve had a computer in the living room for years, but we primarily used it as a DVR with Windows Media Center (still my favorite DVR software).  I don’t use Media Center on this computer (I don’t currently have a USB tuner capable of receiving ATSC over-the-air content), but I do have two great pieces of software installed on it: Boxee and the Hulu Desktop app.  Through Boxee I primarily watch internet television such as that from Revision 3 (Film Riot, Tekzilla, and Hak5 are some of shows I watch from them).  Certainly for me Boxee goes a long way to replacing mainstream television almost entirely, but its compatibility with Hulu has been iffy, and that’s where the Hulu Desktop app comes in.

On Hulu’s website, the Desktop app is touted as being a lean-back experience for the PC.  We, however, are using it as a lean-back experience in the living room.  Running it with a remote is really easy (although I’m still looking for a way to start it from within Boxee or Media Center), and they have a lot of mainstream content right there.

On Hulu, I’ve been watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.  I watched a bit of the original version of this show when it aired on Cartoon Network.  I haven’t seen the original in a while so I can’t compare the two.  What I can say is that I really like the show; it’s got a good mix of comedy, action, and drama as the Elric brothers search for the elusive Philosopher’s Stone.  While not as smart as Ghost in the Shell, this show is no slouch when it comes to ideas either, whether it be faith and science, or a soldier’s responsibility in war time.

On the lighter side, I’ve also been watching Sgt. Frog.  I’ve read up to volume six of the comic for this, and it’s really funny.  The title character is Sgt. Keroro, an diminutive frog-like alien leading an advance reconnaissance mission to prepare Earth for invasion.  However, his crew ends up scattered in Tokyo, and Sgt. Keroro becomes the prisoner (or rather housekeeper) of the Hinata family.  The show is goofy and fun, as Sgt. Keroro struggles between his desire to conquer humanity, and his love of Gundam models.

Outside of Netflix, Hulu, and Boxee, I’ve also been watching some shows on Crunchyroll, an anime and Asian drama streaming site.  One in particular I’ve enjoyed is The Book of Bantorra. The show takes place in a world where people become “books” (actually, stone tablets) when they die.  These books contain the life of the person and are stored in Bantorra Library.  Because of the immense knowledge contained in these books, they are defended by the Armed Librarians.  The show has a great deal of action in it while still maintaining some good human drama.  Like Ghost in the Shell, one of it’s core issues is what it means to be human.  The primary antagonists of the show is a religious cult, the Shindeki Church, divide people into “true” men and meats (people used as slaves).  The first story arc focuses on a young man brainwashed by the Shindeki Church into acting as a bomb, and his struggle to accept that he is, in fact, human.

Well, there you have it: my summer watch list for 2010.  The jury’s still out whether or not we can totally go without cable, but we’re well one our way.

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