Okay, kids. I've read that The Cure are going to be throwing down in early August at the Molson Amphitheatre. Ticketmaster doesn't even have the gig listed (only two american dates are even up right now), let alone have tickets available, but rest assured I'll spread the word as soon as I know.
Who's down?
Incidentally, I'm not a cat person, but if I were, I would name my cat Chairman Meow.
I'm a nerd.
Who's down?
Incidentally, I'm not a cat person, but if I were, I would name my cat Chairman Meow.
I'm a nerd.
VIEW 18 of 18 COMMENTS
Just sayin' hello to all my sg friends!!
In the second film characters were saved by means so poorly set up in the preceding narrative that they can rightfully be called deus ex machina. That this happened three times, utterly killing my ability to be at all interested in their welfare ("I wonder what's going to fly in and save them this time?"), means that for me Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is by far the weakest of the three.
I'd knock the first film because, being an introductory chapter to a long and winding saga, it should have glided easily to greatness. I'm not saying it was bad, it certainly had its charm, but it's not something I could watch more than once. All of the interesting things about it were fairly cheap and flashy, attention-grabbing the first time but pointless to revisit.
It wasn't until seeing this latest installment that I realized how hollow the first film really felt. It seemed all of a sudden that the first film was the Epcot Center version of the Harry Potter world, and now here I was in the actual place. The tone, by which I refer to everything from the cinematography to the performances, was nicely understated. Under Columbus' direction, HP's world stumbles from one neato trick to the next--he seems unable to keep the story moving when there's a special effect to be featured. Cuaron, on the other hand, at least as far as I can see in this first kick at the enchanted can, takes the magic in stride: he doesn't share Columbus' fear of dark colours and shadow; and he's got no qualms about letting a frame breathe--Columbus, by contrast, seems to suffer from the same disease (animato clutteritis) that now afflicts George Lucas. In Cuaron's film Hogwarts feels like a drafty, dusty, old castle, not the Disney-ride that Columbus wanted to make it.