The Summer Blows

Where to begin. How about a general question. Does anybody make real movies anymore?

I have now seen most of the 2008 summer blockbusters, with the notable exception of "Sex In The City," a cinematic experience that Donald Trump couldn't write me a big enough check to sit through. So far only "Iron Man" has managed to live up to its own hype. The rest have chugged their own Kool-Aid. Hard. After each of them, I groped for the handrail toward the door, with the same uncanny phrase on my lips: "Holy shit, what were they smoking?"

I imagine that somewhere, George Lucas is phoning up Steven Spielberg, hoping to score some of that killah hippy-lettuce they were burning, the night that the concept for "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" wafted into their hazy minds. The conversation must have been something like...

STEVEN: Y'know what, Georgie? Y'know what?

GEORGE: Pass the jay back, man, you're Bogartin' again.

STEVEN: We gotta do another Indy Jones, man.

GEORGE: Huh?

STEVEN: Yeah! YEEEEAAAHH-HAH! That's what we gotta do, Georgie. Another Indy! ANOTHER FUCKIN' INDY JONES!! Gawdamn!!!

GEORGE: Yeaahhhhh, another Indy Jones! We gotta. We gotta. Sure thing.

STEVEN: Yer with me, right?

GEORGE: Oh shit-yeah, all the fuckin' way! Another fuckin' INDY! Yeah. Only, what's it gonna be about? I mean, like, Harrison's collectin' Social Security by now, right?

STEVEN: We just make that a part of the story – Indy's gettin' old. But he can still kick ass. Yeah, only now he has a son! And... and... and and and, his son is all tricked out too. Like Indy's a throwback to the 30s and all that shit, so his son will be all, aallll, you know.... Brando! He's all Brando – the fucking Wild Ones Brando! Yeah, andandand, he'll have his own style apart from his dad's, but yet indentical – like Indy uses a whip, so his son is into... swords!! Whips and swords – it's a ZORRO reference! FUCKING-A, man, I'm so fucking brilliant with this shit!!!

GEORGE: Ants!!!

STEVEN: Huh? Where!! You getting the DT's on me, Georgie??

GEORGE: No – ANTS!! Fucking bigass ants! We have a scene where they have to haul ass from a gawdamn landscape covering swarm of killer ants!! Right after a fucking car chase and a sword fight. And dig it, a sword fight with an S&M nazi-ass amazon bitch with a deep voice.

STEVEN: Georgie, you're a genius! I see it! This fucker is just flying together!! Pass the reef, dude, I need me another whiff.

GEORGE: And, andandand, dig this...

STEVEN: Yeah?? YEAH???

GEORGE: In the last reel, when they finally figure it all out, whatever it is, they end up at some temple like a pyramid, only it's an ancient fucking spaceship!!

STEVEN: Oh. OOhhhhh. OOOhhhh fuck yeah!! FUCK ME, YEAH!!!!

GEORGE: And what ever it is they fuckin' do, it reawakens the fucking aliens who've been dormant! Extra-fucking-terrestrials, man, and –

STEVEN: And... fuck. FUCK! We fucking tie-in the Indy Jones loop... with Close Encounters... Fuck... Fuuuccckkk...

GEORGE: You alright, Stevey?

STEVEN: I think I just came, man...

GEORGE: ... and at the very end Darth Vader shows up, and –

STEVEN: No no no, that'd be a little too much.

GEORGE: It would?

STEVEN: Let me think about it. Any Twinkies left?

GEORGE: Dude I could scarf a whole box of Twinkies right now.

Twinkies, which brings us to THE INCREDIBLE HUCK.

First, a preamble: I'm a comic book nerd of the 70s and 80s, so when I hear that a big-budget movie of one of my classic hero faves is in the works, my heart skips a little beat and I count the months, weeks, days, to opening night. I want a little more than entertainment – I want vindication. I want to be justified for all that time spent sprawled on the couch absorbing a latest issue, or holed up in my room sorting through my ever growing collection of pulp-paper treasures. Time that I now realize would have perhaps been better spent... I dunno... learning a job skill or two... expanding my social network... planning for a future... dating...

I've got a lot of resentment to wash down.

Staggering in the darkness toward the glowing red exit sign, as those endless credits crawled up the screen, having endured an opening night screening of "The Incredible Hulk," I knew I'd been owned. I knew it. And I'd paid for it. A feeling not dissimilar to limping home after an especially rough session with a dominatrix who doesn't quite realize she hits just a bit too hard, and who sometimes confuses my safeword with someone else's.

I'd heard it all. I should have guessed it was too good to be true.

"But this time it's got Edward Norton..."
"But this time it's directed by Louis Leterrier... "
"But this time they're gonna... this time it's gonna be... they're... they've... it's... "

It didn't matter.

It stunk. Just like the last one. It didn't work. They threw even more money at it, and it just sucked it all up, and kept right on sucking.

A number of woeful problems plagued "Hulk," in my not-so-humble opinion. First, was it a sequel to Ang Lee's 2003 Hulk movie? Or was it a mega-million dollar do-over? A reboot? Shouldn't that just shoot all of Marvel's street cred down the toilet? Do they now think all moviegoers were ADD kids? That as long as Hulk's all big and green and kicks ass, we'll just happily shovel our money into their pockets?

That's drug dealer logic.

Secondly, is it my overloaded imagination, or was the 2003 Hulk a better "grafique?" The Hulk is a special effect – duh. CGI. The Lou Ferrigno method just isn't "big" enough for the cinema's new-millennial era. I'm sorry, but the 2008 Hulk just seemed... not as well rendered as the 2003 one. He looked "hurried," unfinished – more like what he was, a glorified cartoon.

No amount of soulful, misty-eyed interaction with Liv Tyler could counter-balance the Hulk's cloying unreality. It may not entirely be the CGI crew's fault – she couldn't connect with Edward Norton either. A scene where they trade gazes of wistful longing went on for what seemed an entire reel – the whole film ground to a wincing halt for this silent – pisshole-at-midnight silent – moment of unspoken desire. Only the desire was out of the room. They both looked like they wanted to flip out their cellphones and ring their agents. You could almost hear Leterrier whisper, "okay, now stare at each other like a pair of shit-for-brains ghouls, in love, but... da time ain't right."

Thirdly, I have a real bone to pick regarding the script, and most scripts these days. It seems that the craft of screenwriting has dwindled down to the science of the hard sell. Movies just don't stand alone as stories, anymore. Ultimately it dawned on me that this entire film was a sales pitch – a 2-hour trailer for its own sequel. No closure. No satisfying crescendo note.

"Incredible Hulk" begins with a blink-and-gone montage of the Hulk's origin – a quick "highlight reel" to get everyone up to speed. It's a fast, easy to digest concession to the rubes who never read the comic-book, never saw the TV show, or the cartoons, or the freaking 2003 movie, and are therefore clueless how Mr. Big Green-N-Mean was birthed.

For those who took Screenwriting 101, the Hulk's appearances are timed to stop-watch perfection. The textbook final-reel showdown tableau is established efficiently. The Hulk lets the Abomination (the Anti-Hulk) open a jumbo can of green whup-ass on him just long enough to create a sense of edgy doubt as to the film's outcome, but we all know the Hulk is "doomed to succeed" as Roger Ebert would say. Hulk bellows his signature line, "HULK SMASH!" and delivers the victory blow of super-heroic finality. Fight over. Villain vanquished. But wait! A late development, plot-wise, bursts on the screen right at the very last minute... black out. TO BE CONTINUED IN THE SEQUEL, SUCKERS!!!

So we have a quick hand-job of an opening... followed by two hours of overscripted foreplay... then just as we sense a mad rush to a big messy green climax... the movie PULLS OUT. No afterglow. No cigarette. But a cryptic promise of more to come... later. Way later. Gotta go, babe.

I remember when one of the hallmarks of a great movie was the presence of a beginning, a middle, and an end. "Incredible Hulk" has no beginning, and no end. It's just a big MIDDLE. And that's why 300 people hit the exit doors wondering...

Did I spoil it? Awwww. Boohoo.

Movie no good. Gotta-go weewee. Me want go home now.