Summer is behind us now. Before we dust off the powdered-wigged queens and boinking cowboys (not the same thing) and other Oscar-baiting Fall movies, let’s bag on the sequels, shall we?
Summer 2007 was littered with loud tri-feculence comprised of Pirates, Spidey, Shrek, Bourne and Rush Hour. Cap’n Jack Sparrow’s three-hour paycheck was reminiscent of those Thanksgiving dinners where the third dollop of turkey and mashed potatoes ruined what you loved about the first helping. Like the Matrix trilogy, the two Pirates follow-ups were no disasters at sea, but if we only had the first film on our DVD shelves, we’d all survive swimmingly.
We saw the trilogy apex this year, but rearing its ugly head was the specter of sequels beyond the first three. Film studios have become more and more desperate for tent-poles mined from properties past their point of freshness. Aristotle might have been correct about threesomes. Or was that Dean Martin talking about three martinis (one is too little, two is too many and three is not enough)?
Regardless, a trilogy is solid and sexy. The obvious exception is if a character's trajectory has been specifically laid out to move beyond a trio of chapters, like literary protagonists. It is astounding that the Hairy Penis films—whoops, having an Equus flashback -- the Harry Potter films have turned out as well as they have. Yet with the fantasy and sci-fi genres, there seems to be an obsessive, obligatory drive from the fans to champion certain sequels no matter the quality. Recall the legions of moviegoers who loathed the first two Star Wars prequels but stood for hours opening weekend of Episode III. I believe I was one of those idiots. Hypocrisy also leads to the Dark Side, folks.
The only ‘suck-it-dry’ pass granted is for the James Bond franchise. After 45 years, the 007 films exist in their own genre. Peter Sellers’ Pink Panther movies only excelled on the shoulders of Sellers’ and Blake Edwards immense talents. We all know Steve Martin needs the paychecks to pay for his Picassos. But at age 60, Steve why not just defile yourself in Roxanne 2: Nosy Children instead?
Spider-Man 3 brought new meaning to the age-old phrase, “Get that bawling hero a freakin’ tissue and get on with the goddamned action.” And while you’re at it, please trim the bad guys down to one good plausible (insert peanut gallery giggles here) villain. Raimi’s threequel made a fortune, so a fourth film is inevitable and will hopefully refresh. If they gag us with anymore back-story, please explain how an unemployed superhero living in the ghetto goes from sweats and a ski mask to sewing together a $65,000 spandex suit with Oakley lenses.
Shrek 3 was pretty much like mowing the lawn for most parents. You just gotta do it. Like Rush Hour 3, I can’t think of a film that existed for no other reason than money in the bank. Amnesiac Jason Bourne proved that breaking kneecaps over three films is box office gold. I’m not sure if the folks at Marvel Comics can sue the Bourne producers for ripping off Wolverine’s storyline, but we’ll get more of the amnesiac clawed one in the unofficial fourth X-Men movie, the spin-off inspiringly titled Wolverine. Finally, we will learn how the angry mutant learned his tour-jeté and tap dancing skills.
So what do we have in store for next summer? Besides the further money-grubbing adventures of Batman, Hulk and a new Iron Man movie, more blood will be squeezed from tired characters. Bruce Willis did well this summer in Live With Ashton and Demi or Die Hard which grossed $370 million worldwide, ensuring that 2007 will bring us more old farts from the 1980s. Grumpy vodka tonic enthusiast Harrison Ford breaks out his whip and the Advil for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, aka Transformers 1.5 co-starring Shia LeBoeuf as Indy's replacement-- er, protege.
Sylvester Stallone, everyone’s favorite growth hormone smuggler and winner of the 2006 Fattest Head Contest (beating out Steven Seagal) brings the angry mulleted John Rambo back in … drumroll please … John Rambo. Yo, Sly. Just because we have a soft spot for the borderline retarded Rocky Balboa, does not mean we want to watch you at age 60 strap on the raccoon wig and and as the internet footage revealed, liquefy Asians with a .50 caliber machine gun. You’ve got millions of dollars and a lovely wife that looks like she could suck-start an Escalade. Please just enjoy both in retirement.
Will we ever see an end to these installments beyond the all American trilogy? Doubtful. The Terminator franchise is pushing forward without Ah-nold, and there’s always been talk of a fourth Godfather and more Aliens movies. I wish we could just see the originals re-mastered and re-released in theaters, but that's why we have Blu-Ray and plasma screens. Looks like we’ll all be watching sequel after sequel until the studios cannibalize their own properties with re-starts like hmmmm, STAR TREK. In fact, I think the new Captain Kirk has just been cast. No word on whether William Shatner will cameo as Grandpa Kirk bequeathing his beloved toupee to his young grandson.
1 comment:
Hey, at least Sausage Fingers Stallone set this fourth installment in the suddently relevant country of Myanmar. Last time, he was fighting alongside The Taliban against a Soviet Union that was less than twelve months away from dissolving.
And cut him a break on the WW2 era fifty caliber machine gun. There's no way he could get those pudgy fingers through the trigger guard of a modern weapon.
Post a Comment