Movie Reviews: "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"

Is it too much to ask for someone to make a believable movie about adolescent reptilian martial arts masters mentored by a talking rat?

Perhaps I just answered my own question.

I definitely was hoping to see such a movie when I walked (or practically skipped) to the midnight premiere of Michael Bay’s adaptation of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series — one of my favorite improbable childhood stories.

I knew coming in that the pre-production of this film was fraught with a lot of controversy. Bay has always been a racy guy, for many reasons. For example, when asked about all the complaints and insults being aimed at his films (particularly Transformers 4), Michael Bay just shrugged. "They love to hate," he said. "And I don't care; let them hate. They're still going to go see the movie." And true to form, Transformers 4 made over $100 million in one weekend despite the scathing public reviews. 

As for the beginnings of his Turtle trouble, that all started in 2012 when Bay announced that he was going to change the mutants from turtles into aliens. I (and perhaps about 80% of the TMNT fans on the face of the planet) was outraged. The internet fairly exploded with angry blogs, videos, and emails demanding Bay’s head on a platter for suggesting such a thing. And the incredible thing is… he backed down. He apologized to the fans, went back to the drawing board, and even included a little joke for us in all the trailers.

“Are they aliens?” asks a skeptic of the main character.

“No; that’s stupid. They’re turtles.”

Well-played, Michael Bay.

Seeing the producer relax and actually honor the fans of this franchise gave me a bit more hope than I’d originally anticipated when the previews started coming out. While I was aware that Bay also tends to like over-flashy robots and awkward sexual innuendos and inexplicable use of slow-motion, I do admit that after watching the trailers for this film, I allowed myself a smidgen of hope that he might actually be the perfect person to head a ninja-turtle movie. After all, he doesn’t even have to really focus on the plot here: all he needs to do is give us the blockbuster action and great teen humor that he’s known for. Did he deliver?

Well… allow me to put it this way (and insert the necessary cheesy joke): I kind of wish movies were like pizza, in that if you're not satisfied with the delivery you can get a little money back.

Ironically, in the end, it was the movie that ended up judging Bay, and not me… nor the dozens of other fans decked out in ninja masks that had streamed into the theatre with me (though some of them tried to express their own opinions during the screening, as you’ll soon find out). So allow me to explain.

We open in New York City, following the less-than-she-hoped-for news career of April O’Neil, played by Megan Fox of the Transformers saga. She’s trying to become a serious reporter and investigate a recent city crime wave, but all her bosses think she’s fit for is the role of sexy airhead who does what she’s told (gee, sounds like Fox’s career with Bay in a nutshell — or rather, half-shell). But O’Neil slaves in her free time to bring the city justice anyway, and after perhaps ten minutes of nothing but interacting with boring, stereotypical human beings, she finally winds up meeting the four wise-cracking vigilantes we were all waiting for!

It’s a lot for her to take in, obviously. She must be admiring their new costume-designs as much as the rest of us. After they feebly attempt to explain to her what they are, she can only dumbly repeat back, “Ninja… mutant… turtle… teenagers?”

“Well when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous,” snorts the turtle in the purple mask.

Yes it does, Donatello. Yes it does.

If you take something that you’ve simply accepted for so long and then rearrange it just to try and make it fresh, you may make it so new that you have to wind up forcing yourself to re-believe it all over again. And after only just introducing us to the wacky characters that we grew up loving, Bay then attempts to do exactly that… rearrange the turtles’ origin story almost beyond recognition.

All that was accident or chance in the original series (like the turtles’ mutation, April’s encounters with them, their love of pizza, how they came to learn ninjutsu) has been rewritten. So much so that after a few minutes of cringing in our seats, one of us finally stood up after learning how the animals ended up in the sewers and shouted (in a more R-rated way), “THAT’S BALONEY!”

We all giggled. Then cheered. And as the rest of the origin story kept unfolding, we all just kept laughing at it. Because Bay was trying so hard to convince us that what he had was really a plausible story… and half the fun of the Ninja Turtles franchise is the fact that we as fans know it could never happen, and don’t care because we just want to get on with it and enjoy the fun characters we can relate to. But Bay only gives us a few really fun scenes with our scaly friends, and even then he still mostly glosses over them for the sake of trying to ‘fix’ the saga… all the while somehow ignoring what was actually broken in the original stories — like buildings collapsing for no reason, ninja-weapons somehow winning in a contest against armored cars, adrenaline shots acting as a permanent cure-all for people on the verge of death, or the bad guys being evil because, well, because they’re bad guys. The head villain, a billionaire named Erik Sacks (who plans to attack and then save the city in order to become rich...er) even has goons with creepy masks and tends to toss out cheesy one-liners like, “Soon the city will be ours,” and “Time to take a bite out of the big apple,” to boot!

In fact, by the end I was almost laughing again, at how much Bay ended up resembling the head villain in his own movie. He professed to be a savior, and despite how obviously-evil he was going to be, he still somehow got away with a perfectly-far fetched scheme that ended up with him finally getting his hands on all the green that he wanted. 

Yes, I’m just as guilty as the next viewer. I knew Bay’s reputation, I knew the risks, and yet I spent twenty dollars on the midnight premiere anyway. Because dash it all, I wanted to see four mutant turtles tearing up baddies and the dance floor! And every now and then, I got to see just that — and it was glorious!

But I had to force myself to swallow it. After all the butchering of the plot that Bay did, I’m starting to wonder if we might have been better off letting him make the characters into aliens. At least then we would have ended up semi-believing a new story, instead of semi-disbelieving the original.

Perhaps there’s only a lose-lose situation to come of this: either Bay directs a sequel, or else nobody makes a sequel because the film is considered a flop. I’m honestly not sure which would be worse.

Movie Reviews: "The Song"

The idea of Christian cinema has always tended to confuse me a little bit. I can never figure out whether its purpose is to provide wholesome entertainment for Christians, or to minister to unbelievers and invite them to take a second look at what Christianity professes. I think that often times, most faith-based moviemakers are trying to do both at the same time. Not that aiming for both is necessarily a bad thing, but I think that having more than one goal in mind can often confuse a writer who wants to tell a great story — and I know from experience, seeing as when I’m not blurting my thoughts out on my blog I’m probably trying to write the next great American screenplay that will win an Oscar and sell out tickets at Comic-Con. (I can dream, can’t I?)

So when I sat down in a theatre to see The Song, created in Louisville KY (practically within spitting distance of my family and spectacular college), I wasn’t really sure which lens to view it through. Just before the projectors rolled, I was informed that it was a modern-day telling of the story of Solomon. I thought that was pretty cool. Solomon is often times a bit overlooked as far as Bible characters go, but he really figured out the human condition. A lot of his writings really helped me get through angst and questioning doubts in high school, because he — like me — wondered what the point of it all was. And I think he managed to do that because he had, unlike his subjects, pretty much what we western moviegoers all have now: an education, and a life where we can pursue our own hobbies and recreational delights since we don’t have to slave day and night for the meals on our plates. But Solomon was racy, too; can anyone say, seven-hundred wives?

And so the film began. The first ten minutes were hard to swallow, with a mystic voice-over (which continues throughout the film, I might add) and a montage about a musician named David King and the scandal that led to the birth of his son, Jed. That entire story could have been a phenomenal movie in and of itself, actually. But I could barely focus on that, because for a while… it felt like another round of the usual “Catch the Bible Reference!” game that most Christian movies are known for. Seriously: they offered free t-shirts afterwards to anybody who could name one.

The main character (who was not named Saul, for some reason that I still can’t fathom since every other name was beyond mere innuendo) is simply living his life professing a faith he doesn’t seem to cling to. He meets a sweet girl that is obviously going to be his love interest, so she therefore needs no more personality other than “sweet” and can get away with growing up in the Kentucky countryside and yet somehow know nothing about country music or skipping stones. Smitten, Jed immediately sweeps her off her feet by mocking her over-the-top-obviously-evil ex-boyfriend, and then acting so vaguely honorable and charming that the girl has no choice but to eventually marry him. His love for her inspires a new wave of songs, which rocket him to stardom and happiness in five years (or for us, five seconds). But then, we suddenly learn that his marriage is growing strained thanks to the long tours away from home, and a cigarette-smoking soprano named Shelby has joined his gang of musicians with mascara-laden eyes only for him.

What follows is perhaps inevitable, but still portrayed realistically enough that I did start to feel a little empathy for most of the characters the first few times they backslide. Jed’s choices finally carry weight and he finally becomes his own person, instead of living in the shadow of his father (or his role as a Biblical allegory). However, that ‘own person’ has some serious issues… and don’t we all? We’re all wondering what the point of life is, what purpose we have if we were not made, all of that.

But while this movie does a great job of asking the same question as all mankind… it doesn’t provide a convincing answer the way that it professed it would. I mean, evidently we’re supposed to stay faithful to our spouses and put our families first and make good choices because everything else under the sun is meaningless… but The Song doesn’t actually give any convincing evidence that suggests why these choices might be beneficial. We go straight from the first date to the honeymoon to the whispered fights once the child is in bed. We go straight from the love poetry to the barbed words, which are slung between two people who seem to have never actually bothered to communicate with each other about anything. If their marriage ever was really happy and fulfilling and transparently honest, it’s never shown to us.

So as far as a message meant to reach out to unbelievers (or even believers), The Song leaves a little to be desired, really. It’s a touch stiff at some points, especially in the beginning, but thank goodness it’s at least self-aware enough to mock those points only seconds later. It's definitely starting to take a step forward in the genre of Christian cinema, daring to face facts and really wrestle in the dark with real-life issues. Nonetheless, the story feels incomplete… like perhaps the third or fourth draft of what may need a couple more rewrites if it wants to really wow its audience, and make a faithful married life actually seem appealing.

I'm a Published Author!?

Well, I may not have a paying job right now, but I have managed to officially self-publish a compilation of poetry and doodles! If you like wacky creatures, epic adventures, or a good old-fashioned limerick, you can take a look and even buy your own copy at Amazon.com!

Don't let anyone ever tell you that doodling doesn't pay off!

Tonight The Moose Riders Ride by Rica Wiersema | Make Your Own Book

Movie Reviews: "The Identical"

Going to the theatre has, for me, always been like a little Christmas. Perhaps that’s because when I was growing up, my family always tended to see more movies during the holiday season… but no matter the film they chose, I never once turned down a chance to see something — anything — on the silver screen. To this day, whatever the time of year, when I walk into a dark room with rows of fuzzy seats it’s as if I’m about to tear into a colored-paper package and discover something new. Sometimes it’s a dud, but sometimes it’s a priceless gem, and that’s what keeps me coming back over and over.

So, when I was invited to the preliminary screening of a small feature film that I’d never even heard of last week, I didn’t for a minute think about refusing the offer. I barely had time to take the subway home from work and inhale a hasty dinner before bolting back out the door and half-jogging all the way to the New York Institute of Technology, where I would get to curl up and watch The Identical and decide whether all of the rushing was worth it.

Less than ten minutes in, I knew it was worth it.

I hadn’t so much as glanced at a movie poster for The Identical before I walked into it, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself enveloped in a musical, spiritual journey that spanned several decades of Americana.

I’ve seen a lot of movies - some musicals, some dramas - attempting to follow the past lives of famous athletes, noted musicians, or legendary historic figures. Each film has, for me, been a colorful portal back into a decade of American history that I never got to see with my own eyes… But this film was the absolute best of them all. From costume design to the golden original soundtrack itself, no other tale has made me so nostalgic for years I never lived in.

Now perhaps I’m wrong in gushing over this film’s accuracy since I’m a child of the 90s and can’t really know what any earlier decades were like, but no other movie has looked so identical to the faded photographs of my parents’ and aunts’ and uncles’ teenage years. No other soundtrack (sung by the actual performers, not dubbed) has sounded so deep and resonant. It made me more than once wonder if the actors were actually recorded on vinyl. (And yes, I have heard vinyl before — it was the richest sound I’ve ever heard in all my life).

The story follows Ryan Wade, the musically-gifted son of a southern preacher, as he tries to determine the purpose and direction for his life… while somewhere many miles away, an identical singer by the name of Drexel Hemsley is taking the world by storm.

At least one aspect of my youthful ignorance was a help instead of a hurt at this point: as someone who doesn’t know the list of famous “oldies” artists by heart, I was able to suspend my disbelief for the evening and imagine that somewhere back then, these two identical men really were out there somewhere.

It’s a tale of fiction of course, often hinting and nudging at the rise and fall of Elvis Presley himself… but as I found out afterwards, this movie is actually a glorious examination of a great unspoken “what-if” scenario in King’s life. Not everyone knows that the great rock legend was in fact born an identical twin: he had a brother who died in infancy. Or did he?

While the film has to create its own original characters and run parallel to history for us, it swept me in nonetheless. It’s a tale that will touch the heart of any music lover… or any young adult searching for their life’s purpose, for that matter.

I will admit, though, the movie’s lone flaw was the way it hinged on Wade’s search for himself… and then glossed over his eventual career choice in the end, as if the only reason he felt lost was because he didn’t understand his own DNA. But even then, that’s really the only minor chord in what is otherwise an incredible, rockin’ time. This movie examines faith, choices, integrity, and good intentions in a way that is both family-friendly and sidesplittingly comical. For so many of us that wonder how much of our lives are governed by chance or circumstance or providence, this story shows us two men with the same potential for greatness: one of them successful, and the other searching. One is guided by himself, the other by integrity. One of them lost, the other seeking his way. The Identical gives us a human being that we can believe in, and in a roundabout way it gives us a chance to believe in ourselves, too.

Just as the main character of this film so often goes through his life as an unsung hero, so too this film may be overlooked by the mainstream box office, despite the fantastic power that it has. It’s releasing into a select few theatres on September 5th, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I find myself in line somewhere on that day, just for a chance to sit in a row of fuzzy chairs and step back into time all over again.

Movie Reviews: "As It Is In Heaven"

It’s rare to find a movie that demands an opinion without also handing one out ready-made… especially when said movie is centered around the ever-weighty topic of religion. But if ever there was such a movie, it’s As It Is In Heaven: a film as soft-spoken and hard to find as its characters.

The story centers around an old farmhouse somewhere in the American south, where Prophet Edward has long taught his small religious movement that Judgement Day is coming… and now it’s almost here. But with less than a month to go, disaster strikes and Edward on his deathbed must name a successor… one that will prepare his flock for the end of the world in a way that he never could.

Recent convert David must take up the burden of leadership and endure the suspicions of the Prophet’s own son, all the while hoping to keep himself and his followers pure and disciplined for the Lord’s return. What follows is perhaps only to be expected, but that makes it no less striking as the cult drifts down from euphoria to dissent, then to madness before the thirtieth day is nigh.

This vivid mosaic of Kentucky landscapes and religious theology weaves a vivid, empathetic narrative that is both compelling and complex. It not only causes audience-members to examine their own faith, but also to witness how a faith that's almost all-true can turn to corruption in disguise if tainted by the tiniest of lies. Those viewers who don’t know the foundation of their own beliefs may be shaken, and those who do have a firm knowledge of their own faith will hopefully be made wiser for the watching. As someone who studied under director Joshua Overbay as a student of both film and faith, it was a privilege for me to attend what I knew was one of his most precious projects while at Asbury University.

As It Is In Heaven is powerful and controversial, treading carefully on the subjects of religion and judgement that man has struggled with for centuries… but for all that this movie touches on, in the end it is we who must choose whether to condemn or to pity the characters, for the film has not stepped in to make that decision for us. And in the same way, we must then choose to step outside of the theatre and decide where we shall go in our own life decisions… whether we ignore ancient superstitions, or dare to trust in some strange, provident Being watching over us. For what is at stake for us if we are wrong?

Gone A'Blogging

It's been a while, but I'm back a'blogging!
Wow. That sounds like it should be an Australian backpacking song.

Oh, I've gone out a'bloggin' with ma bag an' coat and boots,
a postin' 'bout me journeys and me pancakes made o' fruits.
I don't know where I'm goin' but you ought to come along
Or at least read me musin's and this strange impromptu song!

Traveler, Not Tourist: Rule 4

Sorry for not writing in a while — on the one hand, I’ve gotten surprisingly busy working at the internship and applying to more jobs. And on the other hand, I have been learning and re-learning the many lessons of life and introspection that tend to come with moving.

I suppose the main chunk of news is that I still haven’t gotten a job yet. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind I assumed that after that last emotional blog post, once I understood God’s message about waiting on His perfect timing, then I would get hired because I had learned all that he intended for me to learn through this trial. But… no. Still waiting. Still working. Still looking.

It’s funny; in most movies and adventure books, when the heroes have to go through the same drudgery day after day, the story generally tends to skip over it to where stuff actually starts happening to them. Repetition and the everyday ordinary isn’t what we want to see when we escape into the tales of old… but if you really think about it, so many of our heroes often have to plod through redundant days of strife before they could get to the good stuff. David had to go camping to hide out from Saul for ages — and the Israelites, for forty years! Imagine wandering for that long; I’m only antsy a month into this!

But I think another reason why I wasn’t writing was because, as encouraging and even somewhat fulfilling it was to hear how well-received my musings are… it’s not enough. Of course it’s not enough; it’s a blog, not a conversation. It’s not face-to-face. Yes, it allows me to express the thoughts that I’ve been unable to express because of my slight isolation… but I’m meant for better. I’m meant for human interaction and friendship. By God’s immense grace (seriously, I didn’t realize until college just how rare a privilege a childhood like mine really was), I grew up knowing nothing but healthy relationships. So, thankfully, now that I’m experiencing loneliness here, I’m aware enough to see it for what it is and to know what I need to counteract it. Not a boyfriend, not better food or more TV or a nice red wine buzz. Just people.

Hence, we will continue my rules about how to travel well with my personal favorite of the list…

4. Bring a Friend

“It is not good for man to be alone.”

I know I kind of discussed this in an earlier blog post, but I want to expound upon it here. Now before I get started, it’s worth mentioning that not everyone need adhere to this rule; when discussing this revelation with my darling introverted sister Anna, we laughed because she admitted that company was not near the top of her things-to-bring-on-a-trip list. And honestly, until this summer I assumed that I didn’t need other people, either.

According to most personality tests I’ve taken, I’m just about half-introvert and half-extrovert. I can handle crowds without breaking a sweat, but I need some time to myself everyday, too. I was the sort of person who didn’t take the well-worn path or the road less traveled by; I just took the road that would get me to my destination the fastest, and whoever happened to be going that way too was good company for however long it lasted.

But coming to New York, where all of my connections were pretty much only friends of friends… I came to see new meaning in that classic quote from Genesis, “It is not good for man to be alone.” I grew up in a huge family and a huge extended family and even went to a college dorm where I lived with a roommate and shared a bathroom with four other girls and a hall with even more. I’m used to cramping up between people on long hot road trips and tripping over big tangled piles of sleeping bags and long lines for the restroom because I’m one of about five to eight women that came into the restaurant at the same time. Even before I came to New York, I knew the value of that and I loved every minute I spent with other people. Even if we did nothing but sit in the same room together, reading or sleeping or whatever, I was still used to them being there. I was used to sharing. Forget internet; people are the best source of unlimited entertainment. They’re always changing!

Sometimes it’s nice to have all the novel egg-banana pancakes to yourself. To choose your own movie without having to hear groans or refusal from peers who don’t want to see it. To curl up by yourself with no pressure to go out or do anything when all you want is a little snooze.

But you can’t tell a stranger how wonderful that peach you bought for only 99 cents was and expect them to understand the fun of watching Looney Tunes and Blazing Saddles in the park with your fingers all sticky.

You can’t remind them about that one book on the set of CNN that’s been permanently placed upside-down on the shelf if they didn’t see it for themselves.

You can’t gush about the father and daughter that came into Starbucks and fell fast asleep after a long day out in the city unless you could explain just how worn out these two adorable strangers were.

You can’t laugh about the time you set up camp in the kitchen to work because the wireless stopped reaching the rest of the apartment for a weekend.

"Restaurant and Social Club for Explorers and Mad Scientists."
Notice the skeletons standing on the roof.

You can’t crack a joke at the funny club you found or squeal in delight at the sight of stuffed Ninja Turtles in the window of a Build-A-Bear shop.

You can’t see your own face light up with delight at your first Broadway show, Holler If You Hear Me.

Or when the subway turns the corner and Coney Island comes into view for the first time and you get to try your first famous Coney Island hot dog.

You can’t gush to someone else about your picnic on Roosevelt Island and know they can fully appreciate it when you say just how fresh and sweet the raspberries were, or how great it was when you tried eating them with fresh-baked brownies. They won’t laugh the same way as you when you talk about running off the island to escape a coming rainstorm.

Wherever I go, whatever I do with my life… in the future, all I know is that I want to do it with somebody by my side. Forget “soul mate” for now; that will happen in its own good time. I want “soul companions.” Brothers and sisters that I’ll get to learn about and serve and laugh alongside and cry with.

If life is like a box of chocolates, what fun is it if you can’t share them?