3/19/04
Journey to the Center of the Earth…bitch, kinda.
If you haven’t seen it- reading the following will probably ruin it for you.
The wife has another stack of DVD’s she checked out from the library. When she left for work my assignment, should I choose to accept it, was to watch ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth.’ I told her that I’d seen it as a kid and thought it was stupid. As a KID it was stupid. Admittedly, all I remembered about it was that there was a sky down there and it made no sense. If the pressures allowed any spaces they’d be small ones- it would be claustrophobic spelunking if you could spelunk at all. So having a sky would be stupid. Don’t argue with me, it would be stupid.
Being a good husband I agreed to watch it anyway. Having at least a small measure of integrity I did. Fortunately it had James Mason. I like James Mason, but what he was doing in this mystified me. It seems a cynical, yet safe, assumption the check was much better than the script.
The movie starts with a golly, gee whiz, Pat Boone giving his beloved professor a rock for a gift. No mention was made of his origin that I recall, but I suspect Pat was from Iowa, because he was so nice. On the other hand, there was that time he was seen wearing a kilt so maybe he was a Scot without an accent. Maybe I should have just turned up the sound. I dunno. Nor is it relevant. Let us move on with our (echoing) Journey to the Center of the Earth.
From the scribbling on a rock within his rock the professor discerns the way to the center of the earth is near a volcano in Iceland. Right there you know that whatever the university is paying him isn’t enough and society would be better served if he was in criminology. Except he isn’t bright enough to pick up that his daughter and Pat Boone like each other ‘real strong’ so maybe he isn’t another Sherlock after all.
The trusting, because he’s a pure Man of Science, professor sends his findings to another professor for confirmation. It isn’t long before skullduggery and plot developments are afoot. And if I may digress about that, at no time does Pat Boone wear white shoes, but he does sing. Now let us continue with our (over excitedly) Journey to the Center of the Earth.
Realizing they are being skullduggered by the other professor they head for Iceland as quickly as they can, because, (reverently) as long as there are questions Man must find the answers. Since the other professor is heading for The Answer and it’s causing panic we can safely assume that more important than the answer is getting there first. Pat Boone leaves his woman (Diane Baker) behind, go figure.
In Iceland there is more, yes more, skullduggery. This results in their picking up a local Icelandic guy for a beast of burden/guide, and if I may digress again, he’s a hunky blonde for the women in the audience. Because the movie producers knew that while men would heed the trailer’s siren call to answer the questions like men must, they could sell two tickets if they gave the women some eye candy. However, the women may be disappointed that Blonde Hunk is in deep like with his duck, or maybe not. They also pick up the wife of the other now-dead professor, because men have eyes too and what’s fair is fair. But now (In Cinemascope!) back to Journey to the Center of the Earth.
There are more skullduggeries that I don’t care to remember. There is more stupidity than I care to relate. They get to the (In Technicolor!) Center of the Earth. There are freaking dinosaurs. Huge things. It’s a little disappointing that the astute James Mason, Man of Science, doesn’t wonder aloud something like, “The bigger you are the more food you need to stay alive, where are these monsters getting their food?” And there’s a sea with the bright, aforementioned, sky.
Then they stumble onto Atlantis. Oh sure, right where I’d left it. They’re in the middle of Atlantis, now there are some questions to be asked demanding answers, but suddenly they’re in a rush to get out. Suddenly, they are set upon by the chameleon with the (widescreen!) twenty-foot tongue! Lava starts boiling in and the chameleon chamels! Well blind me with science.
Escape is managed by jumping into a blue cup-shaped pagan altarpiece that is then shot upwards through a chimney by a plume of red-hot lava. There is a shot from above of everybody laying back and kind of, uh, enjoying the ride. Anybody in the audience who wasn’t overwhelmed by the wonders they’d just experienced had to be suppressing a laugh, if they could. It’s almost disappointing you don’t get to seem them being, uh, ejected, from the volcano. Apparently that would have been too much Bad Science.
We then see that Pat Boone landed in a tree near a convent. Rather than be seen naked by the nuns he covers himself with a sheep, the smallest one at that, and runs away. There will be no shepherd jokes here. But he had been underground for a long time.
Scientifically, it’s a stupid movie. There are plot twists that defy logic. There are holes bigger than the caverns. The whole time they’re Journeying to the Center of the Earth, they’re following the trail of a guy who never got out. Unless he was carrying his own Guide Duck, don’t ask, wouldn’t he have had to do some backtracking. Wouldn’t he have needed a woman along to point out he was a stupid, sexist, man? Not that I care. It was a stupid movie made in 1959. And maybe that explains a little more about it.
Maybe the movie was a technological advance, a visual extravaganza. Maybe it was a “big effects movie” slyly intended as social and sexual commentary. There is a “bourgeiousie” exchange with a corrupt aristocrat. The professor accepts the widow as equipment. She makes him jettison some social conventions, and then he frees her of her corset, even if as a purely practical matter. The duck waddles off with the corset.
Pat Boone and the Icelander run around topless most of the time- that was probably pretty racy then. The working class Icelander was willing to kill the aristocrat over his beloved duck. Pat Boone and the aforementioned sheep and nuns. At the end the masses applaud their achievements because they believe too
. I am NOT going to watch it again to try to decipher it. I don’t care, even if I am suddenly a little curious. The wife wanted me to watch it. I watched it. I wrote this, now you won’t have to watch it yourself, unless you’re curious. Don’t thank me; I did it to answer the questions of future generations. Too bad I have no answers.
On the other hand- if you go -hereyou’ll see lots of reviews by people who liked it. Maybe I just didn’t get it. Maybe the problem was I just refused to suspend disbelief. Maybe I’m just too right-brained to to ignore crappy science. Maybe I'm just too spoiled by Lucas and Spielberg to understand how it was all supposed to work.
If you do watch it, and the duck makes sense, tell me about it. I want to know the answers.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
Saturday, March 20, 2004
Friday, March 19, 2004
3/13/04
We try to visit my older brother’s on Saturdays, but it’s a 70 minute drive. Sometimes I’m just not up to it though. Trainboy wanted to visit his cousins so we loaded our stuff in the car and away we went. We went to the end of the block.
As soon as I tried to drive my right eye started to twitch. As if being cross-eyed wasn’t bad enough, having an eye twitch back and forth made driving impossible. Trainboy was not happy, I could tell. Ms. Pikachu is all for not getting killed at a young age so she thought turning around was a good idea.
Part of the usual journey is a stop at a fast-food place. We then eat it while sitting through a car wash, or I just pull into a parking lot, because driving cross-eyed is bad enough, but having an attack of pain due to eating is even worse. The kids never complain about making sure I can drive safely.
So the trip was off, but everybody was still hungry. Very carefully, I drove over to Wendys. The kids got their usuals, I got my usual plus chili. When we got home we prayed first. We always thank the Lord for what we’re about to eat, and we always pray for Mommy at work. It’s our routine and we’re comfortable with it.
The kids ate their food, and I ate mine. I have to eat more slowly so by the time I was done with my burger the kids were already about finished. Next came my chili, and as it was removed from the bag Ms. Pikachu got excited. “Chili! You ordered chili? I want the chili!” She’s usually better mannered than that. Normally she only gets that excited around chocolate. Irregardless, I could not reward such…. Childish behavior. I said, “No, the chili is mine. If you wanted some you could have ordered some.”
She would not take “no” for an answer. She’ll probably find that useful if she has a career in sales, but it was not going to get her my chili. She reached, I held it away. She got up, I stepped away. And so the great Chili Race of 3/13 was started.
Ms. Pikachu chased me around the downstairs a few times, backed me into a corner once, all the while yelling, “Give me the chil!” It’s hard to run when you’re laughing though. Eventually I made a break for the upstairs. I hadn’t made more than a few steps when she grabbed my back pocket and pulled. Off balance, going off balance, so I backed down the steps. I told her pulling 200 pounds backwards really wasn’t a good idea. As she processed that little instruction I took off again, chili held out like an Olympian torch bearer.
Once more around the downstairs and another bolt for the stairs- this time success. I don’t move too badly for an old man. Then into this room and closed the door. Leaning against the door it was hard to believe how childish we were acting, but it was amusing. Due to my aforementioned weight she could not get in. But she tried, all the while yelling, “Give me the chili!”
This WAS childish, so I decided to try something a little more adult. I offered to split the chili with her. She would have none of it. There is no reasoning with a manic blonde. Eventually her mania gave way to tantrum. She informed me she had barricaded me into the room. The door opens inward- she is blonde to the bone.
I tired of it. I guzzled the chili.
A rather abrupt ending, but I have to get to work for a staff meeting.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
We try to visit my older brother’s on Saturdays, but it’s a 70 minute drive. Sometimes I’m just not up to it though. Trainboy wanted to visit his cousins so we loaded our stuff in the car and away we went. We went to the end of the block.
As soon as I tried to drive my right eye started to twitch. As if being cross-eyed wasn’t bad enough, having an eye twitch back and forth made driving impossible. Trainboy was not happy, I could tell. Ms. Pikachu is all for not getting killed at a young age so she thought turning around was a good idea.
Part of the usual journey is a stop at a fast-food place. We then eat it while sitting through a car wash, or I just pull into a parking lot, because driving cross-eyed is bad enough, but having an attack of pain due to eating is even worse. The kids never complain about making sure I can drive safely.
So the trip was off, but everybody was still hungry. Very carefully, I drove over to Wendys. The kids got their usuals, I got my usual plus chili. When we got home we prayed first. We always thank the Lord for what we’re about to eat, and we always pray for Mommy at work. It’s our routine and we’re comfortable with it.
The kids ate their food, and I ate mine. I have to eat more slowly so by the time I was done with my burger the kids were already about finished. Next came my chili, and as it was removed from the bag Ms. Pikachu got excited. “Chili! You ordered chili? I want the chili!” She’s usually better mannered than that. Normally she only gets that excited around chocolate. Irregardless, I could not reward such…. Childish behavior. I said, “No, the chili is mine. If you wanted some you could have ordered some.”
She would not take “no” for an answer. She’ll probably find that useful if she has a career in sales, but it was not going to get her my chili. She reached, I held it away. She got up, I stepped away. And so the great Chili Race of 3/13 was started.
Ms. Pikachu chased me around the downstairs a few times, backed me into a corner once, all the while yelling, “Give me the chil!” It’s hard to run when you’re laughing though. Eventually I made a break for the upstairs. I hadn’t made more than a few steps when she grabbed my back pocket and pulled. Off balance, going off balance, so I backed down the steps. I told her pulling 200 pounds backwards really wasn’t a good idea. As she processed that little instruction I took off again, chili held out like an Olympian torch bearer.
Once more around the downstairs and another bolt for the stairs- this time success. I don’t move too badly for an old man. Then into this room and closed the door. Leaning against the door it was hard to believe how childish we were acting, but it was amusing. Due to my aforementioned weight she could not get in. But she tried, all the while yelling, “Give me the chili!”
This WAS childish, so I decided to try something a little more adult. I offered to split the chili with her. She would have none of it. There is no reasoning with a manic blonde. Eventually her mania gave way to tantrum. She informed me she had barricaded me into the room. The door opens inward- she is blonde to the bone.
I tired of it. I guzzled the chili.
A rather abrupt ending, but I have to get to work for a staff meeting.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-