126

(373 replies, posted in Off Topic)

avatar wrote:

Yes, strictly speaking we should be agnostic about everything - the sun may not rise tomorrow, the chair you're sitting on may collapse underneath you, the tennis ball may quantum tunnel through your racquet (happens to me all the time).

But if the overwhelming weight of evidence supports one proposition and there's no evidence supporting the opposite view (if fact, plenty of evidence that it's fiction), then for practical purposes we can take the philosophical shortcut and revise our agnosticism to outright atheism.

Sure, but I was making the point in the context of fireproof and Dorkman's disagreement about the nature of faith vs belief, and BDA's confusion about what it was about.  It's precisely a question of what kind of evidence is relevant, how much weight is 'overwhelming', etc.  One of the things that I think causes the most problems is when you have a shortcut for something, you tend to forget (a) that it's a shortcut and (b) what it's a shortcut for, so it's worth spelling it out now and again.

avatar wrote:

If you still insist 'no, no, you have to be agnostic - there could still be a God', then you need to honest with yourself that you're leaving the door ajar for emotional reasons, not logical ones.

I don't think that's true actually.  I think you can leave the door ajar for intellectually honest reasons of precisely the sort I mentioned.  I might think that, on balance, it's extremely unlikely that God exists, perhaps on a par with the likelihood of finding a part of Antarctica where things fall up, but that doesn't mean the door isn't ajar, however slightly (though, yes, in ordinary conversation I would self-identify as an atheist). 

However, I think these kind of points are important to bring out actually, ironically perhaps as a counter to the arguments that belief in science and belief in God are on a par because they're both underdetermined (i.e., you can't prove that God exists just like you can't prove that the theory of gravity is true).  I think that people can only be helped by reflecting profoundly on what they believe, what their evidential standards are, whether they're being consistently applied, etc. etc., in which case I think a distinction between the two does emerge.

127

(373 replies, posted in Off Topic)

BigDamnArtist wrote:
fireproof78 wrote:
Dorkman wrote:

You're essentially saying you have to already believe something in order to believe it. It's completely circular and can apply to any ridiculous thing you'd care to. Give me evidence, and I'll give you faith.

That's not faith, I'm afraid.

This. This right here is what I was trying to talk about last night. I don't understand this at all.

That faith requires some distance from fact and evidence, and that only by distancing yourself from that can you have "faith" and therefore "believe".

Faith=/= Believing in something with evidence.
Faith = Believing in something without evidence.
Belief requires faith.
Belief is impossible with evidence.
So therefore, if any real tangible, repeatable proof that God existed was ever found, it would nullify belief because faith is no longer required.


WHAAAAAAAAAAA??

This might be way off base, but I think what Dorkman and fireproof are disagreeing about is the issue of underdetermination.  (Sorry, yet another long-ish post.)

So, to take a science example, pick your favorite scientific law, let's say the law of gravity.  Strictly speaking, that law is underdetermined by the data which supports it.  In other words, there is no reason whatsoever in principle why we might not find some small corner of Antarctica (or a remote part of the universe) where things don't fall down, they fall up.  It would be weird, and profoundly unexpected, and cause a lot of problems, but there's nothing in principle that prevents it.  And if we found such a place, the law of gravity would need to be revised (assuming of course that the observed effect is not due to some interfering factor, like an anti-gravity generator, or the wind).

However, in the context that we're talking, it would seem odd to say "I have faith that, potential interfering factors aside, this glass will fall to the ground if I drop it here, on Planet Earth, right now", because I have enough evidence (even just from personal experience) for it to be reasonable for me to believe in the truth of that proposition.  But there is, strictly speaking, an element of faith.  This could be the moment which shows us that the theory of gravity is false, however unlikely that is. 

If I then make a broader statement "I believe that the theory of gravity is true, always and everywhere in the universe", then the 'faith' component of that statement is correspondingly greater, because that claim is underdetermined by the evidence to a greater degree.  But it's still supported enough for effectively all scientists (I assume) to be willing to make the requisite leap of faith (putting aside specific implementations in terms of Einsteinian whatever).

So insofar as even the most solid belief that you can imagine is, strictly speaking, underdetermined by the available evidence, an element of faith is required for indeed any claim that XYZ is true.  Where Dorkman and fireproof seem to disagree is the question of how much and what kind of evidence is enough for that leap to be reasonable.  Put another way, how much evidence don't you have? 

(I don't take fireproof to be suggesting that one believe in God on the basis of no evidence whatsoever, or claiming that his/her belief does.  Dorkman is of course right that faith, based literally on absolutely no evidence whatsoever, is mere credulity.) 

So that's the sense in which faith is believing something without evidence, rather than with it, and why belief, in the sense of believing that some proposition X is true, requires faith.  That's also the respect in which faith then requires "distance" from facts and evidence.  It goes beyond them in a way that can't actually be rationally justified. 

In terms of what would happen if tangible, repeatable evidence for God's existence (of the sort that would satisfy rationalists) came to light, I think in ordinary language one would say that we no longer have faith that God exists, nor do we believe that God exists, but rather that it's a fact that God exists.  So in that sense it would nullify both faith and belief.  However, given that you're always stuck with the underdetermination issue, you'd really have to say "The best theory of the universe that I have at the moment, as always subject to revision, contains God".

128

(373 replies, posted in Off Topic)

Dorkman wrote:

And for all we know, they put out a sequel to their story that said exactly this and just didn't wind up getting passed on down the centuries. We know that deliberate hoaxes, once they've taken hold in people's minds, can survive being exposed even by the masterminds of the hoax. It can even intensify them. Ask the guys who made that Bigfoot video, or the folks who started the crop circle craze.

And just to throw in a point about movies -- I know:  on this board? what am I thinking? -- that's what I found really surprising about The Last Temptation of Christ. 

All the furore was about Jesus having sex with Mary Magdalene (in an extended 'fantasy' sequence related to the ultimate temptation of the title, and the only one that has any real power: the temptation to just chuck it all and go be a normal person).  However, I'd have thought the real controversy was later in that sequence, when the non-crucified Jesus meets Paul.  Paul is preaching Christianity, that Christ died on the cross for our sins, etc.  When Jesus confronts him about the fact that everything he's saying is a lie, Paul basically says "I don't fucking care."  I was a little surprised that people didn't get more upset about that.

Anyway, I can't speak to the movie as a Christian really, but I find it enormously spiritually renewing, in terms of a story of being unsure what the right thing is to do, to then being sure, to then finding the strength to do it at great personal sacrifice.  And the literal end of the movie, through into the closing credits, is one of the most amazing screen experiences I've ever had.

How easy are the Extended Editions to get on Netflix, etc.?  I'm thinking of people who might want to follow along at home, either at the time or later.  Can you get them via seamless branching on the regular DVDs?  If the only way to get 'em is to buy those special DVD sets, that might make it hard. 

If you find yourselves with time to kill, you can always set Teague up at the piano and improvise one of those old Golden Age of Radio shows:  "And now from the magnificent Palmer House high over Chicago asking that musical question...."

Batman Returns:

00:29:15 - 00:31:08  Trey set story:  Life in Das Boot (1m52s)
00:49:15 - 00:50:47  Appreciating Moms (1m32s)
01:06:21 - 01:07:42  Trey set story: Danger: monkey on set! (1m20s)
01:43:15 - 01:45:37  Trey set story: "Who's not moving their penguin?" (2m22s)
01:57:15 - 02:01:20  Trey set story:  meeting Christopher Walken (excerpt) (3m37s)
02:01:21 - 02:03:13  Trey set story: Iron Sky 2 - This time it's penguins (1m47s)
02:05:37 - 02:07:28  Dorkman + Michelle Pfeiffer + time travel = indie smash hit (1m47s)
02:32:29 - 02:31:44  Trey's glamor of Hollywood story (excerpt): "They got special guys to do that" (2m36s)

Howard the Duck:

02:00:14 - 02:02:18  Brian's defense with underscore (2m02s)

Easy enough to grab.  I'll get it.

I'll take Back to the Future, and am happy to do others if nobody wants them.  I got a lotta housework to do.

Edit:  Missed that BDA had done half of it.  I'll take Batman Returns instead.

Edited edit:  Right, I'll do Batman Returns and finish BTTF.

133

(68 replies, posted in Off Topic)

From Once Upon A Time In The West:

Harmonica: And Frank?
Snaky: Frank sent us.
Harmonica: Did you bring a horse for me?
Snaky: Well... looks like we're...[snickers]...looks like we're shy one horse.
Harmonica: You brought two too many.

Eddie wrote:

There's a lot of the stuff in Prometheus that is gold.  I think Brian's "If they said football was played with sticks and a net it would unacceptable," bit is pretty great.

Didn't see that anybody's put this up, so I grabbed it.  There's also a bit before it on the difference between science-fiction and fictional science which is a good point.

I also grabbed the discussion at about the 1h08s mark of the scene where they mess with the Engineer's head and how stupid that is and how everyone wishes that the Engineers would just have come back and fucked everybody up.  It also contains Trey's withering "this is an episode of 'Written by a Kid'" monologue.

Well, striking while the iron (fist) is hot, it would seem.  We'll see what happens when/if the bottom falls out of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  I think we should be about as excited as we were/are for Agents of SHIELD, with perhaps a slight uptick if we think it's going to be a slightly less high-profile/expensive thing, and therefore less prone to micro-management and the lowest common denominator.  In other words, who knows?

redxavier wrote:

Interesting, although any language is going to be full of these, due in great part to the inate laziness of speakers and the inevitability of omitted words. In fact, the second meaning you prescribe to your example is actually derived from omitted words and isn't accurate (the full sentence being something like "which relatives do you want to have visit?"). It's a contracted sentence that could mean the same but really just reflects poor grammar.

Well, I guess there's a couple issues here, although I think they boil down to the same observation:  the fact that these phenomena are pretty systematic.  If it were just laziness, or a result of individual speakers just idiosyncratically doing whatever, I don't think you'd expect the intuitions/judgements to be as uniform as they seem to be.  (And I should say that I cut out a slight hedge in the original post which I should have left.  My students, who are speakers of British English, don't always have the ambiguity, and that may be relevant here.  As far as I know, it works for American English though.)

Here's another contrast which might work better (where the leading asterisk indicates that the sentence is claimed to be ill-formed/ungrammatical):

The child seems to be sick/The child seems sick
The child seems to be sleeping/*The child seems sleeping

I suspect if we did a 'proper' study, and polled everyone on the site, virtually everybody would agree with the indicated intuitions.  So I'm not sure that the laziness or "delete stuff that's clear from context" story is going to work.  Clearly there's some difference between 'to be sick' and 'to be sleeping', but now you're going beyond the "just laziness" story and starting to build up a theory of what's actually going on.  And, again, I'm not sure "laziness" explains the (I suspect near) uniformity of judgements.

(Notice too that the ungrammatical one is completely comprehensible.  If a foreigner or something produced it you'd have no difficulty understanding what they meant.  So comprehensibility doesn't entail grammaticality.) 

redxavier wrote:

Much of language works on subtle clues here and there, and regardless of the isolation of a spoken or written statement, there would always be a context that would lead us to read or hear a certain meaning. Indeed, I would argue that it's impossible to not have context of some kind.

I see where you're coming from, and sure in terms of actual language use you'll always have some kind of context.  But I wouldn't agree that it's impossible to remove sentences from any (relevant) context.  I think the example does exactly that.  Sure there's a meta-linguistic context "here's a neat observation about English", but there's no context that bears on the choice of interpretation.  Again, if it's a fact that one or the other interpretation is preferred, that's also interesting and something you'd want to explain, but you want to make sure that that explanation doesn't wrongly lead to the prediction that the other interpretation should be impossible.

Ok, this is kinda sad, but the first thing that came into my head was something professional.  I still remember as clearly as if it were yesterday being told this in like day 3 of Linguistics 110: Introduction to Linguistics, and it's part of why I'm doing what I'm doing now.  (This will generally work for only native or near-native speakers of English, so apologies for the people that this leaves out.) 

To start with, consider the following question, taken completely in isolation and without any context whatsoever:

Which relatives do you want to visit?

Without any context, this question is actually ambiguous.  There are two different situations/actions/states of affairs that this question could be asking about.  In actual normal use, the context will tell you which question the speaker is asking, but without that context it could be either.  So the first question is: what are those two readings/interpretations for the question?

SPOILER Show
The ambiguity is to do with the directionality of the visiting.  Completely without any context, the question can either mean "Which relatives to you want to go and visit?" or "Which relatives do you want to come and visit you?"  So, to put it another way, either one of these question-answer pairs would be appropriate:

"Which relatives do you want to visit?  I want Grandma and Grandpa to visit, because they always bring nice presents."

"Which relatives do you want to visit?  I want to visit Grandma and Grandpa, because they have a big house with a swimming pool."

It may be in that people may have a preference for one reading or the other, but both are possible.

So that already raises an interesting question:  how do you know that?  I'm 100% sure you weren't taught it at school.  And because context almost always tells you which interpretation is intended, I'd be surprised if you'd ever noticed the ambiguity before. 

However, it gets more interesting.  In 'fast' speech or 'sloppy' speech, want and to are frequently contracted to wanna.  Given the preceding discussion, how does that affect the question?

Which relatives do you wanna visit? 

SPOILER Show
For all speakers of at least American English that I've encountered, this question is NOT ambiguous.  This question can only mean "Which relatives do you want to go and visit?"  With wanna, it just can't mean "Which relatives do you want to come and visit you?"

Now for people who share the intuition (which is hopefully most of you), that's really weird.  I'm really sure that at school or in a grammar class or something, nobody ever told you anything about wanna, or if they did it was just "don't use it writing" or "it's sloppy" or something.  So how do you know the fact in the spoiler, instantly and without any prior training?  And how do we all know it, given our different background, linguistic experiences when acquiring English, etc.?

So the intuitions are themselves interesting, but where do they come from?  The explanation also raises interesting issues.  The standard explanation for the ambiguity goes something like this (in a somewhat simplified form):  the rule for forming English wh-questions (questions involving who, what, how, when, etc.) requires moving the "wh-word" to the front of the sentence (among other things, which we'll put to one side).  And this requirement erases a distinction between two different "underlying" structures.

You want which relatives to visit --> Which relatives do you want to visit?

You want to visit which relatives --> Which relative do you want to visit?

So the first one is the underlying source for the "which relatives do you want to come and visit you" interpretation, and the second one is the underlying source for the "which relatives do you want to go and visit" interpretation.  But the distinction is erased in the surface question; hence the ambiguity.

The phenomenon of wanna-contraction, as it's called, then provides striking evidence for the reality of these underlying structures.  If we say that want and to can only contract to wanna when they're next to each other in at this underlying level, we explain why "which relatives do you wanna visit?" is not ambiguous, and specifically why it only has the "go and visit" reading.  Once you do wanna-contraction, only the second underlying structure is a possible source for the speaker's question.

So anyway, I don't mean to have a little mini-lecture or anything, but I thought that was really cool when I was 17, and still do actually. Perhaps no one else does, but that's the risk one takes I suppose.

A couple quick things from The Avengers:

00:09:22 - 00:10:10  Trey's goddamn criticism of the goddamn first 20 goddamn minutes of the goddamn movie (46s)
01:01:11 - 01:03:00  Trey on the "he's adopted" controversy (1m49s)

I'll stake a claim for Cowboys & Aliens.  Been meaning to see it and I've got a drive that's just the right length.  As usual, I'll update here.

Edit:  here 'tis.  All uploaded

00:23:45 - 00:24:57  Is Olivia Wilde actually a human being? (1m12s)
01:03:14 - 01:05:19  Trey's alien tactics masterclass:  say AAARRR, punch and bite, and be naked (2m05s)
01:12:10 - 01:14:26  Teague's existential moment re Harrison Ford (plus celebrity superheroes) (2m 15s)
01:35:23 - 01:38:34  The problem of an alien/advanced civilization's motivations (3m 12s)
01:41:39 - 01:42:10  Alien/Advanced Civ motivations, part 2 (1m 26s) (could be edited with previous if you want something longer)

Just to try and summarize a response to the last couple of posts from fireproof and BDA, to try to further express what didn't work for me in the context of their very clear articulation of some of the issues:  of course The Princess Bride is consciously appealing to all manner of tropes/archetypes relating to fairy stories.  And where the film builds on them and creates characters, in fireproof's words, I don't have a problem.  (As I've said earlier, I think it does successfully do this in the case of Inigo Montoya's perfectly archetypical revenge motivation, for example.)

For me, though, it just doesn't do that in the case of Wesley and Buttercup and I feel like it needs to.  Why?  Because we spend a lot of time with them.  Something important to remember about fairy tales is that typically the "true love" spends most of the time offscreen.  The hero hardly, if ever, interacts with her, perhaps seeing her at a distance and falling in love, and then, having overcome obstacles, they come together at the end.  That's certainly the trope from medieval literature.  The beloved is really an unreal thing, and is often characterized in unreal terms ('an angel', etc.).  So it's fine that "true love" or "destiny" in that context is also diffuse and unreal.  The story as such isn't really about them, it's about the hero.

But Robin Wright Penn is in a lot of this movie, and they're together for a lot of this movie.  So I feel like I'm entitled to see some kind of development or progression.  And what kind of hacks me off is that I feel like the movie is explicitly saying to me "I don't have to, because archetype."  I don't buy that, so I feel like my time is being wasted. 

Seriously, the love story in Attack of the Clones is scorned and reviled as a monumentally incompetent piece of writing, but more or less nobody's got a problem with The Princess Bride.  And I don't see that they're conceptually that different, precisely because The Princess Bride, while trying to justify its ungroundedness through the "true love" trope, is actually not adhering to what makes it reasonable to do that (the unreality of the beloved in general).  We just spend too much time with Robin Wright Penn in my opinion for the film not to move beyond just the archetype.  And I call bullshit when the film says it doesn't have to. 

________________________________________

On a sort of related note, right before I went to sleep I saw BDA's post about The Princess Bride as a high concept film and the idea that, because we're filtering the story through Fred Willard's character, that countered various potential narrative and dramatic objections.

I'm not sure that we actually do let films off the hook that way (on the basis of it being high concept) and as I was drifting off I had this vision of an alternate version of Transformers 2, where a scene starts with the characters actually planning to do something reasonable, and then we abruptly cut to Peter Falk, reading a story to Plinkett, who's in bed, and he says "Fuck that shit about people doing stuff that makes sense.  I wanna hear about Megan Fox's ass." And we cut back to yet another motorcycle repair job.  It's not clear to me that that objectively makes the film better.

Here's some stuff from Star Trek II, which I happened to notice in the chat Teague was looking for

00:38:13 - 00:39:40 Star Trek fight choreography and Eddie fights the Gorn (1m27s)
01:22:13 - 01:23:01 More appalling fight choreography (53s) (you could probably edit the first  two together and synch it with the film at the point where this bit starts)
01:37:27 - 01:38:03 Kirk's son's goofy sweater (35s)
01:39:47 - 01:41:10 Is there cock sucking in hell, and, if so, what form does it take? (1m24s)

Edit: uploaded

Jimmy B wrote:
sellew wrote:
Darth Praxus wrote:

At the same time, though, parodies have an inherent respect for what they parody, at least most times. Again, look at Galaxy Quest. Look at any Star Wars parody ever made (well, of the OT). People who make parodies have a deep love and respect for what they parody, or they wouldn't bother. Epic Movie and its siblings excepted.

How this is possible I have no idea,

It's called 'paying homage'. Galaxy Quest is certainly a loving parody of Star Trek and its kin. A lot of fan films fall into this category too.

Sorry, poor choice of syntax there.  What I meant was that, as a Star Trek fan for going on 40 years, and as a science-fiction fan in general, how is it possible that I haven't seen Galaxy Quest?  Not "how is it possible that Galaxy Quest could be a parody?".  I'm sure it's great.  How long is the [Redacted]/WAYDM commentary?  If it's around 2h20, that'll cover the drive to Edinburgh I gotta do on Sunday night, so I could watch the film this weekend. 

However, on the subject of loving parodies, that's I'm sure part of what bugs me about The Princess Bride too.  I don't get the sense that it's a loving parody, more of a "looking down your nose" kind of parody.  I'm not really sure why that is.  Maybe it's tied up with that my feeling that the film isn't in general very sincere.  I'll have a thought.

Darth Praxus wrote:
sellew wrote:

Sorry, Teague, not quite sure I'm following you.  Of the two, I think The Princess Bride is a parody, rather than a satire, though it's true that the purpose of a parody is usually to satirize its object.

The novel is definitely a satire.

That could easily be.  In fact, after seeing the movie all those years ago and hating it, I went and got the book  (I've always been into reading the source books for films that I've seen), but I found it even more annoying than the film and couldn't get through it. smile  So I'm really not familiar with it at all. 

Darth Praxus wrote:

At the same time, though, parodies have an inherent respect for what they parody, at least most times. Again, look at Galaxy Quest. Look at any Star Wars parody ever made (well, of the OT). People who make parodies have a deep love and respect for what they parody, or they wouldn't bother. Epic Movie and its siblings excepted.

How this is possible I have no idea, but I've actually never seen Galaxy Quest.  So I'm afraid I'm not actually much help on that one.  But I wouldn't agree that there needs to be or ought to be necessarily any respect for what's being parodied.  I think people parody stuff because there's some aspect of it that they want to hold up to ridicule.  And, if they're trying to go the extra mile, there's some further purpose to it, like pointing out the ridiculousness of something that we hadn't previously been aware of. 

Unfortunately the example which comes to mind probably won't mean anything to people outside the UK, but there's a guy over here, Christopher Morris, who had a series of TV programs starting in the mid 90's which parodied various news related genres.  The Day Today was a parody of the standard UK evening news, and then a few years later he did one called Brass Eye, which was a parody of news magazine shows. 

He hated and despised everything about these shows and the people who made them with a passion, and the parody is brilliant.  It viciously ridicules the sensationalism, the pandering, the unnecessary graphics, the "it's all about me" presenters, the ignorance about math/science/statistics, etc....Actually I see a lot of his stuff is on YouTube.  Here's a link to part of an episode of Brass Eye -- check out the fantastic infographic for "Crimes We Know Nothing About" at 1:55.

Something else that I was thinking about too in the context of your previous post, Darth, was the difference between a comic story which happens to be set in genre/world/universe X and a parody of genre/world/universe X.  The Hitchhiker's Guide, for example, which you mentioned before, I think might be an instance of the former and not the latter.  It depends on what exactly is being ridiculed.  So the main parodic or satirical points aren't so much "science fiction tropes are stupid" but rather to do with things which are incidental to the characters and genre (bureaucracy and bureaucrats, automation, etc.)  Not sure that makes any sense, but I mention it anyway.

fireproof78 wrote:

And please bear in mind this is a thought experiment not an attack on you or your point smile

Not at all.  What I really love about this place is that it's a place where you can have proper conversations about stuff with people who are sincerely trying to think seriously about things. 

fireproof78 wrote:

Goldman created "Princess Bride" as a "fairy tale with the boring parts cut out." So, the narrative through line of "true love" is not explained beyond "greatest thing in the world." So, if the boring stuff is cut out, and we don't see the relationship develop but are just told what is because the relationship stuff is "boring" should we not just accept Wesley's and Buttercup's relationship being in love?

Does this reflect on the movie, or more broadly, on fairy tale love stories in general (i.e. every Disney movie ever)? In other words, the fact that the romance in "The Princess Bride" doesn't work for some people indicate a flaw in the movie or in relationships like that across the genre?

Yeah, I definitely think there's something there, in that by creating a parody, part of the point would be to say that the standard fairy tale love story isn't really that plausible or dramatically satisfying.  But the thing is, if you're going to make that point by having something which is itself implausible or dramatically unsatisfying (which, in a way, you should do -- showing, not telling), then it needs to be really well done or really insightful because the interest on the viewer's part isn't going to come from the story. 

I think it's ultimately just a disagreement that I'd have with William Goldman about what needs to be cut out.  In a sense, good drama should already have the boring bits cut out.  That's why it's not called "real life".  So if you're cutting further, you're by definition cutting into something that's necessary.  And it doesn't even have to be a big deal, which I guess is also what bugs me, because elsewhere he shows that he perfectly well can have something which is brief and to the point, but which works in terms of setting up something which is a bit of a cliche in a perfectly acceptable way.  (The Inigo Montoya scene with Wesley before (?) their fight.) 

So I'm not so willing to be charitable when the film says "I'm cutting out this boring bit", because he's shown elsewhere that he's perfectly capable of doing that sort of thing without being boring.  And the "I'm parodying the implausibility of it" didn't help me because (a) I didn't really feel like that point needed making and (b) the way it was done just for personal, idiosyncratic reasons didn't entertain me.

144

(15 replies, posted in Creations)

Wow, really cool!  And actually one of the lines gave me an idea:  you have the bit where the hunter grabs a cross, and of course it doesn't work, presumably because he lacks the required faith, and the vampire taunts him by saying "you might as well have grabbed a picture of Santa Claus".   

You could do that, and then take it one step further by having a character then grab something funny and unexpected, but which sincerely does represent some ideal of goodness and light and purity for that character (for me, it would be something like a picture of Kermit The Frog), and then have that actually succeed in repelling the vampire.  (If you wanted to be more serious about it, you could have them grab a picture of their baby or something.) 

Maybe somebody somewhere's done that already.  I'm not super knowledgeable about the vampire genre.  Anyway, really interesting, and I look forward to any more you might do!

Teague wrote:

Satire?

Sorry, Teague, not quite sure I'm following you.  Of the two, I think The Princess Bride is a parody, rather than a satire, though it's true that the purpose of a parody is usually to satirize its object.  I guess that would then go back to the "can't have it both ways" problem.  Either you're holding up your subject to ridicule and scorn or you're not.    (Did that in any way address anything that you had in mind?)

Darth Praxus wrote:

I'd disagree about a parody having an inherent lack of concern for the characters. Look at the Hitchhiker's novel—yes, they're parodies of SF novels, but you genuinely care about Arthur and Ford and all the rest of them by the end. The same with Galaxy Quest and its crew members.

Yeah, that's an interesting point.  I hadn't really been thinking about the character issue.  I was thinking of the girl with the heart transplant insofar as it's part of the "airline in jeopardy" narrative.  And you're certainly right in the sense that we're supposed to care in Airplane! about Robert Hays and Julie Haggerty, and their relationship, otherwise the film doesn't work. 

I guess then the problem with The Princess Bride is more specifically that it's trying to be such a broad parody of the fairy tale/adventure genre as such, and therefore the stuff that it chooses to hold up to ridicule is stuff which is absolutely fundamental to the story and the characters. ("True love", for example, is theoretically what's driving the whole narrative.)  So it couldn't possibly be trying to walk a line between being a parody and being sincere, because there's basically nothing meaningful left for the film to be sincere about.

[As if I need to say it:  Warning: long post]

Ok, I'm back.  I watched The Princess Bride for the first time possibly since it came out, and listened to the [Redacted]/WAYDM commentary to get a sense of what people really like about it.  I suppose I should begin by apologizing to anyone who sunk their life savings into popcorn futures, as I didn't hate it as violently as I did originally.  (Seeing it in the comfort of my own solitude rather than with a bunch of people who all thought it was the greatest thing ever probably helped.)  However, it didn't really work for me, and there are certainly chunks of it I do find really annoying.  A lot of it I think is just I like oysters and you like snails (and then there's Olivier, who likes both).  However, I do have this sense that, in the abstract, there is a problem with what it's trying to do, so in the interests of trying to provide value for money, I'll try to articulate it at the end.
 
So particularly Brian in the commentary refers to the line that that the film is walking between being serious and being a parody.  And he, and presumably others who really like it, feels that it's successful in doing that.  For me, though, the main reason why it doesn't work is that I didn't feel like either the serious part or the parody part worked. 

So, looking at it first as an attempt to tell a sincere adventure story, for me it's generally too knowing and too (deliberately) cliched/sabotaged storywise to be successful.  For example, I don't really buy the argument that just because it's a fairy tale we're off the hook and get to just go "yeah, true love.  Ok."; that's part of the "boring bit" that we're going to leave out, and therefore the film doesn't need to make any effort whatsoever.  So as a result most of the scenes between Wesley and Buttercup for me play out as a notch above Attack of the Clones (and maybe not even that).  I don't find their relationship remotely plausible and so I don't have anything invested in it and couldn't care less about them as characters.  A surely related aspect of this is that I also think that Robin Wright Penn is terrible and has no chemistry whatsoever with Cary Elwes.  (You may say "well that's kind of the point because it's a parody", and I'll come to that in a second, but I think these are fair things to expect from the point of view of taking the story seriously.) 

To kind of illustrate what I think the film should have been doing, and what for me does work, I'd point to Mandy Patinkin's character.  His is a 100% cliched revenge narrative, but the film makes an effort by giving him that little speech to Wesley. It's nicely written, it's well-executed, it takes two seconds, and that's all we need to get on board with his role in the narrative.  But there's nothing equivalent for, say, Buttercup.

On the villain side of things, nothing really works for me.  Chris Sarandon is awful -- very (post-)modern and knowing in his performance, in addition to seeming bored and half-assed.  He's certainly not remotely menacing.  Wallace Shawn takes me out of the story simply by being Wallace Shawn.  The best one by far is Christopher Guest, and I think that's because he's the one who's really allowed by the script and/or director to play it straight.

So the 'straight' part didn't work for me, but then the 'parody' part didn't either.  Part of my problem I think is that, as a parody, I'm not sure I get what the point is supposed to be.  If it's just that we're gonna stand around and point at fairy tales and laugh at them for being cliched, that seems pretty feeble. I think I realized that when I was about 10. 

And then a lot of the other comedy bits kind of just fell flat for me, though this is obviously very much a personal taste thing.  The film clearly thinks that it's being clever, and often takes up a lot of time doing it, and that just annoyed me.  So the running gags grate from moment one.  Things like the whole convoluted bit about which glass is poisoned wears out its welcome very quickly, the Billy Crystal cameo is tedious, etc. 

Actually, having said that, it could be that the Billy Crystal cameo is a kind of clever double-bluff.  We're heading to the part of the cliche where we go to the old crone with magical powers, except, surprise!, the magical crone is an old Jewish guy. How droll.  So we're laughing at fairy tales for being a hoary old load of bollocks, but nothing could really be more of a cliche than Billy Crystal's character.  Mel Brooks was doing that schtick with Rob Reiner's dad in the 50's (see the 2000 Year Old Man), and I'm sure it goes back earlier than that.  If it was some kind of meta-double-bluff though, deliberately psuedo-subverting a cliche with something that was, in its way, just as much of a cliche, then that might actually be kind of witty. But I'm not sure that that's what's going on, or that that's why most people think that Billy Crystal's character is hilarious.
   
I do think the film really does want to have it both ways.  It wants to be both a genuine fairy tale adventure and also a parody of the genre.  The question though is whether that's actually a coherent thing to try to do, and I'm not sure that it is.  So something like The Adventures of Robin Hood is a genuine adventure story. It may rely on cliched elements or not be well-executed in some respect or other, but it is sincere with respect to those elements and to its core narrative. 

Something like Airplane! on the other hand is a parody.  We're precisely not supposed to be invested in the suspense/distress of the stricken airliner, for example.  The film relates to those aspects of the narrative in a way that's not sincere or genuine.  And it's precisely the way in which this lack of sincerity is manifested that makes the film funny (for those people who find the film funny).  In other words, you can be watching Airplane! and thinking "that's not funny", but if you're watching Airplane! and thinking "gosh, I hope that little girl's heart transplant goes OK", then you've misunderstood what's going on.

So anyway, if I were trying to take it beyond "yeah, just nothing about it really worked for me", in which case there's nothing really further to say, and into "there is actually something 'objectively' wrong with the film", that's what I'd go with.  To the extent that the film is supposed to be a parody, the purpose of the film doesn't derive from the audience's engagement with the narrative (so there's no issue about, for example, whether Wesley and Buttercup's relationship makes sense or is believable).  But that's then incompatible with the film being 'serious' or 'sincere', because the point of the film then is the audience's connection with those things (even if that doesn't happen in a particular film because of incompetence or poor execution or what have you). So it can't be then that the film is really walking a line between these two things, since they're mutually exclusive, and to the extent that it's trying, it's incoherent/at cross purposes with itself.

Ok, done.  I'll take the Pepsi Popcorn Challenge with The Princess Bride.  I haven't seen it in more than 20 years, mind, and maybe I was just in a bad mood, but it seems like anything less than total adoration will make it appropriate for this thread. 

I'll get back to you by the end of the day.

Dave wrote:
Invid wrote:

No movie is so amazing that it can't annoy the fuck out of at least someone.

Unless it's the Princess Bride.

Nope.  I saw it once years ago and found it unbearably smarmy and utterly charmless.  Infinitely less clever than it seemed to think it was.  Annoyed the fuck out of me is exactly what it did.  (Prob'ly should revisit it for this thread, actually.)

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(12 replies, posted in Episodes)

Been revisiting Dark City (saw it like 10 years ago at a sci-fi film festival and remembered almost nothing about it) and thought that I'd, if not quite stick up for Teague, at least try to articulate what is I think is a legitimate point that he was making, which the guys seemed not to really get.

I understood Teague to be saying basically this:  the crucial difference between The Matrix and Dark City is that, at least initially, the world of the matrix in The Matrix appears to be our actual world.  Neo goes to a club, works in a cubicle, has a shitty boss, etc. etc.  That then gives the viewer a way into the film, however briefly, so that when things start going haywire, there's no confusion about "is this supposed to be weird, or is this just the way this world works, or what?". 

But the matrix of Dark City, if you will -- the world before we, the viewer, know what's behind the curtain -- is clearly not our world, totally aside from the 40's/noir overlay, which has nothing to do with it.  There's the weird syringe thing by the bathtub, there's white-faced people, people fall asleep at midnight for no reason, the desk clerk changes, etc. etc.  This is all in less than the first 15 minutes.  And then we're given a sense that there's something behind the curtain, when the film hasn't really told us what's in front of the curtain.  So you don't really feel like you have any sense of where you're supposed to be.

That seems to me to be a perfectly coherent and valid point, though it didn't bother me as much as it clearly bothered Teague.  (But then again I like Last Year at Marienbad.)  However, Teague, I would definitely urge you to give it another shot.  There's enough interesting stuff there, both in itself as an intelligent sci-fi film that actually tries to be about something, and in terms of other films that it connects to thematically (The Matrix, Blade Runner, Solaris, Moon, etc.), to make it worth getting to grips with.

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(2,068 replies, posted in Off Topic)

http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5499/10559350093_5d338cb3d3.jpg

I wish I could remember this to credit it properly, but when Attack of the Clones came out, I recall an observation to the effect that this was the first film in history to get good reviews simply for not being awful.  And if that's the case, then I think The Muppets is the second one. 

The fact that it even occasionally, for brief moments, manages to recall the brilliance of the Muppets in their heyday is probably a minor miracle (and is to be celebrated).  But there's a constant drag on the proceedings, what feels like a pervasive, all encompassing lack of faith: the Muppets aren't really special, they can't carry the film, we need to have all this other stuff in it, and they end up playing second-fiddle in their own movie to people/things who are not anywhere near as interesting.  It's just like "Puppet Show and Spinal Tap" except, ironically, Jason Segal is the puppet show. 

Like the whole running...I hesitate to call it a 'gag'...about the 80's stuff, which seemed wildly misjudged/out of place.  The Muppets were never of their time.  And if anything their 'time' was the mid/late 70's, back when variety shows like The Donny and Marie Show were still on TV.  Geez, it's not like it was Knight Rider

The most important thing for me, though, is that something feels off about Kermit's characterization.  Part of what's important about Kermit is that he always represents the best of us, the best of humanity.  Yes, he occasionally loses his temper, has moments of doubt and crisis, etc., but at the end of the day he never gives up and he always does the right thing.  So what's supposedly happened in the intervening years doesn't feel right, nor do his initial scenes with Walter, Mary and Gary.  He seems defeated and quasi-broken, and that's not Kermit.  And then at the end of the telethon, when they fall short, Kermit's like "Oh well, fuck it.  Let's throw in the towel." And that's not him either. 

I'm sure that part of it is the fact that he's not the protagonist, so it can't be him that takes the "come on, you can do it" line.  That now has to come from outside, from Gary/Walter.  And another part of it may be the perceived need to "update" things, where "update" means make "darker" and "edgier" (though we're not talking about The Dark Knight or anything obviously).  But I think that just underlines the fact that those decisions were a mistake. 

Again, it's not that it's awful, and there are some really good moments.  But I think Frank Oz was right in a lot of what he (and others) said, even if I don't feel it quite as strongly.  However much of a fan Jason Segal apparently is, the script doesn't entirely respect the characters.  And so much of it just feels so generic, and bland, and uninspired and safe (including the songs, which I find desperately banal), and that's 100% not what the Muppets are about.

Now lest anyone think that I'm just a bitter old man who remembers a time when stuff didn't suck, "Muppets Tonight" is absolutely tremendous -- fully the equal of the original series.  It's a crime against humanity that that's not out on DVD (along with Seasons 4 and 5 of The Muppet Show).  (TOS is better than TNG though.)