Annika Wesley

Side Effects (absolutely riddled with spoilers)

In what world is finding out that a person understands how seat belts and airbags work EVER epiphanic? Hold on you guys, something’s fishy—this bitch knew that airbags and seat belts protect you in collisions.

- her airbag would have deployed had her seat belt not been on—that was never a fatal scenario, seat belt or no

- my mind doesn’t hesitate to accept that a person in an unknown state of mental distress would have their seat belt on before driving into a wall

- why oh why did they have to reinforce the point with a seat belt/airbag video being shown in her office—as if one has to be exposed to that in order to know how goddamn seat belts and airbags work

Additionally, Rooney’s character is too smart to have responded to his inquisitions as she did. She’d have mentioned that she read the “poisonous fog bank” line in a book, and that it stuck with her. And she’d never have made up a person at work in the first place. I can’t accept that this clever, criminally-minded woman doesn’t comprehend the basics of lying. 

Rooney Mara is such a fine actor, and everyone else’s performances were solid, and the film was shot so well, but the story let everything down so severely. 

Sure, it’s interesting that one sympathizes with the villains up to the end (assuming it wasn’t just me who wanted Rooney to get away with it … ), but that’s not a satisfying viewing experience, and the writing and plot wasn’t nearly clever enough to pull it off. The film robotically explains itself not once, but twice. By then it just feels cumbersome and heavy-handed. 

It should have just been a Bound-esque thriller where Rooney and Catherine end up getting away with everything and then live their sexy wicked lives, happily together. That wouldn’t have been any more predictable than what ended up happening.

Also, my husband will be very happy to know that if I ever receive photos of him in a public place with a woman and then random pictures of her nude - lingerie bag or no - I’ll be inclined to believe someone is fucking with us. 

At least there’ll always be the super nifty trailer.

Heckler (2007)

Heckler is a very interesting film, not for its content, but for the pretense of it being a documentary about comedians and hecklers. It is, in fact, an attempt to delegitimize film critics, and the opinions of anyone else who doesn’t like bad movies (especially Jamie Kennedy movies). 

The first bit of the film is indeed about hecklers. A wide range of comedians are interviewed and share their experiences with being heckled. Most comedians interviewed are smart and professional about it. Of course, there’s one comedian who handles a poor crowd reaction by emphatically professing his wish that the audience gets cancer and dies; it is of note that this comedian was not remotely amusing to begin with.

The film then moves completely off the subject of hecklers, and sets its sights on film critics (which are absolutely not the same thing). Jamie Kennedy confronts several people who have written negative reviews on his work. I’m not sure what his intent was with these confrontations, but they made him look really unprofessional and pathetic. I get that bad reviews can hurt - putting something you’ve created out into the world is an act of bravery - but you won’t grow as a creator, nor gain respect or sympathy, by whining about people not liking your creations. Some of the professionals touch on this point by explaining that they learn and grow by being receptive to constructive criticism. 

At one point some random guy tries to make a point about criticism having no perspective by quoting from a review for Piglet’s Big Movie that called the film juvenile; his point was that of course the film was juvenile, as it was for kids. This is so far from the mark that it’s bothered me ever since, as it presupposes that children’s films must be juvenile and cannot be smart, multilayered, and appeal to humans of all ages, like The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh.

They then go on to not only write off professional critiques/bloggers, but anyone with an opinion. One guy’s (paraphrased) sample response to a laymen’s critique of their work is, “Well what films have you written and directed? None? Yeah I thought so. Fuck off.” Creating a film is not a prerequisite to judging a film. It is a prerequisite to being aware of the difficulties and challenges of making a film, but how difficult something is and how successful something is are completely different. If I carved a marble statue and it turned out shitty I could profess that it’s an incredibly difficult task, however, if something sucks it sucks.

Sure, it’s not fair to compare No Country For Old Men with Malibu’s Most Wanted, but that’s not the point, because on its own, Malibu’s Most Wanted is not funny or well executed. Comedies can be plenty goofy, silly, stupid, unbelievable, etc., and still be really good solid movies in their own right. 

I’m extremely curious to know the reactions of some of the people that were interviewed for this movie, as they were essentially used as a front for Jamie Kennedy to whine. I can’t imagine Patton Oswalt watching Heckler and thinking, “I’m really happy they used my interview footage, as I stand firmly behind this film and its message.”

Ultimately I don’t care how good or bad a person is at making films or putting together a stand-up act, but to write off any and all negative feedback that comes your way is unprofessional, juvenile, and only hurts yourself. 

The Hobbit

All I can think about is how Peter Jackson has the final cut of The Hobbit II all ready to go. How many people will see An Unexpected Journey, only to depart this world before The Desolation of Smaug is released next year? Hundreds, thousands, millions? All being denied the cinematic closure that can only come with seeing a series to completion.

Also, I’m not a fan of the contrived plot devices employed to add gravity to a series that is certainly adequately compelling without embellishment. 

And now we know you can’t make a movie with a buttload of dwarves without many of them looking costumey, and one who straight up just looks like a man to the point where it’s distracting.

Then there’s those goddamn nifty eagles. How many jams have the eagles gotten everyone out of? Why couldn’t Gandalf just pop Frodo on an eagle in the very first movie, send that baby down to Mount Doom (waaay before Sauron or Saruman had the wherewithal to prepare their forces, and before they were expecting basically anything), throw the ring from whence it came, and bango—we’re done, with zero casualties or destroyed psyches. 

peer review: my conflicting viewpoints

I spent the majority of my childhood reading Archie comics and eating pretzels. One particular story that was impactful on me involved Ms. Grundy grading Betty’s writing more harshly than everyone else’s. Betty was confused and hurt, until Ms. Grundy explained that Betty had great potential as a writer, and so she took particular interest in helping Betty learn and grow. Betty did indeed learn from Ms. Grundy’s exacting standards, and as time went on Betty’s papers had fewer and fewer red marks.

I never sought much in the way of feedback from others; if I could stand to read what I’d written after a week or so, I counted the piece a success. (There’s pretty much only one story that I wrote before the age of 21 that I haven’t deleted. My post-21 era has seen more success, but nothing truly substantial.) At 16 I was working at a video store with my best friend - at the time we both endeavored to write as much as possible - and the subject of peer review came up. At the time I believe my stance was more or less, I don’t like it. As it turned out, his boyfriend who was a writer agreed with my sentiment, as he felt peer review would only lead to the degradation of your own voice and vision. I took to that idea very strongly.

I don’t mean I’m against sharing one’s work, or even against being receptive to criticism. It’s more about sticking to your guns, following your vision, and doing what feels right to you.

But then I think back to a short story I edited for one of my husband’s friends. I have a save file with fifteen or so excerpts from the story because it was so painfully, hilariously bad. My job was not to tell him that; I simply corrected his spelling/grammar (though I did point out some choice sentences that begged revision). Would he benefit from someone tearing his story to shreds, or should he just keep writing his way? Is it just that there’s a fine line between taking in someone’s opinion and trying to be a better version of yourself, and not trusting yourself and trying to be something you’re not?

Assassin’s Creed III

Disclaimer: I’ve not played any of the Assassin’s Creed games, but I have watched my husband play all of them, with the exception of the premier installment. 

I had very high hopes for Assassin’s Creed III after watching the trailer, which implied a strong story, awesome combat (tomahawk!), and improved stealth mechanics. After two nights, my husband got up to Sequence 5, and I think the game is hugely disappointing. It’s entirely possible that it gets better, but how much of a success can a game really be when you have to drudge through 4+ hours to get to the good stuff?

Right off the bat the way they introduced and revisited the story felt very clunky; were I knew to the franchise I wouldn’t give two sods about any of the characters or what the hell was going on. And a massive pet peeve of mine is when video games have you walk ten feet in between cutscenes—there’s just no point to it. Oh, and neither of us remember when Desmond’s dad came around, so it must have been great. I do wish my face had been recorded while Ben Franklin was doling out his super misogynistic wisdom, as I could feel my face reflecting my disgust. While it’s cool that the Natives speak an accurate language, the way it’s executed is extremely detrimental to the flow of the game—it just starts to feel like the Suntory commercial shoot from Lost in Translation.

I could keep ragging on the story (dull, poorly paced, bleh dialogue), but the gameplay is a killer too. Allegedly they improved the mechanics so you don’t arbitrarily leap in random directions, often unintentionally jumping off of things. Turns out, nope. Had they actually improved that, tree climbing might actually be awesome instead of a sick joke. And while it’s nice that you can hide in the bushes, it looks ridiculous crouching in some sparse leaves wearing a bright red coat, and not being spotted by the guy who’s an inch away. And of course, if you want to sneak from one bush to another you’re SOL, and instead you awkwardly stand up to move to another bush. It also seems much more difficult to figure out where/when to go in order to remain undetected; David didn’t have much trouble with that in the previous titles, but in AC3 he’s led many a slow-speed trudge through deep snow.

The combat is much less accessible to casual gamers, as now you don’t regenerate health until encounters have completed. I understand the appeal of making games challenging, what I don’t understand is not giving gamers difficulty options, so casual players don’t ragequit. 

Then there’s the hunting, which is fine, but really not for me. Considering I was at the end of my rope by the time it came around, it was very much the nail in the coffin.

To be updated in the event that the game does indeed get better.