Due Date: Rip-roaring fun

First of all, I'd like to take aim at the Great Vowel Shift. This insidious event is responsible for modern speech, but today I felt like it was a revolution taken too far, like the French Revolution. Purchasing the tickets for me and my lovely companion today, I was naturally asked what movie we would like to see. I said "Doo Date" and the bloke behind the counter simply cocked his head and stared at me. When I said "Jew Date", he understood. God. "Jew Date". Sounds like a Z-grade romance.

Anywho, after this little tête-à-tête and the zillion commercials and movie trailers, we (all 8 of us) got around to watching Due Date, a fantastic, fun-filled film directed by Todd Phillipps, responsible for such flicks as The Hangover, Starsky & Hutch and Road Trip.

The plot revolves around high-strung architect Peter Highman (Robert Downey, jr - something tells me he didn't need to research his role a whole lot) and his relationship with his polar opposite Ethan Tremblay - or is it Ethan Chase? (Zach Galifianakis) after Highman is kicked off a plane to L.A. to be with his very-pregnant wife Sarah (Michelle Monaghan). Hilarity ensues when manchild Tremblay/Chase offers voluntarily to deliver Highman to his wife through the means of 5-day road trip through that most favourite part of America - the Deep South. In all honesty, the location wasn't explored enough, but that's my only little moue about it.

Of course, the laughs come from the dynamics of the relationship of Tremblay/Chase and Highman, but there is no pretension about it. Both characters are too resolute to be pretentious and this creates an authenticity about the film - what you see is what you get, and I don't think you can say that about all the films that came out this year. But what makes this film rate even higher in my books is that any so-called "dynamics" are not concrete - the flexibility of screenwriters Alan Cohen, Alan Freedland, Adam Sztykiel and Todd Phillips allow for the relationship to be malleable and influenced by changing places and events. Of course, given the transitory nature of this film, one hopes that this thought went through the minds of the screenwriters.

I would like to criticise the stillborn nature of Jamie Foxx's role. Cast as best mate Daryl, there are insinuations of adultery with Sarah by crazyman Tramblay/Chase. There is only a tiny amount of exposition for this subplot, which is surprising given that it must be an important issue to a man about to have his first child in a few days. No, instead, it is resolved in a way which never felt like a resolution at all. And yet he is the one to respond to Highman's call of help when he needs it. The ultimate fact is that his character is largely irrelevant because Daryl really is chameleonic and having a bet each way.

Another subplot is Tramblay/Chase's desire to become an actor. It is treated with far more depth than these subplots usually are, which is of course a good thing. The audience gets to see his dubious thespian skills and concludes with a Two and a Half Men tie-in. When Tremblay/Chase declares that he likes Two and a Half Men, "especially Season 2", it doesn't make things clearer but instead more confuddled. Why Two and a Half Men? Your guess is as good as mine, as they say.

Yes, Due Date does contain some lowbrow humour, including some questionable bestiality. But if you're worried about lowbrow humour you probably don't deserve to be going to the movies, anyway. Instead, grab a mate, grab some popcorn and sit down and get ready for 96 minutes of fun.      

"These tedious old fools..."

"The satirical rogue says that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab you could go backward." 
(Hamlet, II, ii)
 
Hamlet's words to Polonius in Shakespeare's play belie the depth to which old people alternately frustrate and intrigue me. I am often left in a state of apoplexy trying to analyse the actions of old people - whether they be in the spheres of family or work. However, let me preface my article by articulating two important points...

I have, myself, in the past, been labelled an "old man" by those who knew me, and, thinking back on my actions in a previous post, I can now see where they were coming from. For reasons that I am not ready to reveal, I agree with them and I hope that now I can be recognised as someone who is the antithesis of that descriptor. Again, that's kindle for another fire.

But how do I define someone that is "old"? Well, through my observations, I reckon that people start catching the old virus when - at youngest - they are 40. Of course, not everyone is infected at that age, but one probably has to keep working exponentially harder to stave it off thereafter.

Right. Well, guess it's that time when I slag everybody off in my family. No, I'm not going to wheel out that trite little whimsy (thanks Vladimir Nabokov) about being able to choose one's friends but not being able to choose one's family but I will point out that I've had 17 years to hone my observations on some of the more elderly members of my famiglia. I want to reemphasise that it has only been this last half-year that I have escaped the tyranny and bondage of old people syndrome. Before this, I was magnetised to old people. There is no other way to explain this phenomena, becuase I would seemingly prefer the company of adults (specifically aged over 40) to my own mates. Now I know this sounds not only bizarre but also pretentious because I've paraphrased this fact at least two other times in this post alone, but I need to expunge this past modus vivendi in order to move forward.

Example 1: My uncle is currently teaching how me how to drive. Unfortunately, he's not one of the cool uncles that gets drunk at the Christmas parties, and gives you obscure and arcane presents. Instead, he is the most miserable man I know. Our pre-driving conversation is limited to "Hi". You'd think that, given I'm controlling a potential deathtrap with him in it, he'd invest a little more energy in developing a rapport with me. Obviously I'm mistaken. And whenever we drive past a certan former industrial estate, he tells me the same old story about how he made something obsolete, like ear trumpets or whatnot, a billion gazillion years ago.

That's the thing that frustrates me about old people. They can't cope with change. They still live in their little outdated world. I remember I was watching Question Time recently, and Julia Gillard lambasted the Opposition for being keen history students and preferring to live in the 1950s (sorry, it's not in hansard). A quick lesson in Aussie politics for all those international readers: The current - and ruling - party with the plurality of seats in the lower house of Federal Parliament, the Labor Party, is generally seen as forward-thinking and progressive, while the Liberal and National Opposition is seen as tired and unoriginal.

The thing that I have noticed amongst my older family members is that they seem to be perenially tired - not physically tired, mind you, but mentally and socially tired. Its like every outing is a chore, and given the opportunity, they would prefer to be cuddled up watching the Friday night crime thriller on the ABC rather than dining on Collins Street, or whatnot.  And when they did go out, they made the supreme effort of looking the part by chucking on the tackies and woolen jumper. It reminds me of James May summing up oldness quite pithily on Top Gear: "It's when you have trouble putting on your trousers and you say, 'I know, why don't I have them elasticated?'" And, for a long time, I was like that as well. My apathy to any sort of social outing had to be seen to be believed. Now, I can't wait to get out of the house...

Of course, let's not forget the wistful sighs of those youthfully-challenged whenever discussion turns to technology. "Oh, you can't keep up", they exclaim. This fluff-driven narrative used amongst the Baby Boomer generation is something that really does frustrate me.

Apathy brings me to a similar point: For a long time I was so disinterested in being supportive of something that I was quite isolated when in discussion with anything my age. (Warning! Warning! Level of pretence approaching danger zone) It was like I was totally superior to anything mass-market or pop-culture oriented. I remember, one time at our grandparents' house, my brother and I were flicking through the TV. Landing on Video Hits, I said "Garrgh, the youth of today". Prententious much? It's like I had no idea that there was nothing wrong with enjoyment and fun for it's own sake. (Fructus gratia fructus?) Now, I'm learning to let go and take things as they come.

Now, turning to work: I work as an umpire for the WDCA (seniors) and WRJCA (juniors) and I have a few more observations that are prescient here. Believe it or not, the old people doing umpiring all belong in the WDCA - they'd all be asleep by 5.15pm - and awake by 4am on Saturday - on a Friday, which is when junior matches are held. Anywho, it can be quite amusing to see the microreactions in old people's faces as they see a young whippersnapper take the road less travelled and try and assert himself in the adult world straightaway and become the new alpha-male - of course, with the performance of my umpiring to date, that probably isn't gonna happen anytime soon

In any case, I am reminded of when I was umpiring my second senior cricket match. The other umpire was at least quadruple my age and it showed. He was totally ignorant of any sort of discomfort that I exhibited out in the middle and this was exarcabated by the fact that I was umpiring in the second highest grade. On my second go. C'est la vie and all that...

Having said all that, I hope that when I approach the big 4-0 and beyond, I never - and I mean never - be a tithe of what I see currently in the blue-rinse brigade. I hope to continually challenge societal norms until I am six feet under    

Well, that's my exposition on how I see old people. I plan to finish up on this theme of old people and conservatism that you may have noticed by arguing how the Baby Boomer generation will, for the second time in their life, be the most important vote-getters for governments.

  

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part 1: Raw as Bill Weasley's Steaks, Amongst Other Things

Wow. The penultimate flick of the perennial Hollywood money-spinner series left me feeling...underdone.
I walked out of Werribee10 Cinemas (apparently now known as Regent Cinemas) last week not in a state of enthrallment and enrapture, but rather in one of keen eagerness of the final movie of the final book about Potter and his pals.

Why did I feel underdone? Important plot points were included, so no complaining there. But this movie in particular felt like a mate was telling me the story on FB chat instead of it being part of status thread - there was no dispersion of persepctive  It was like director David Yates hasn't heard of subjectivity - who knows? However, I will mention that before Harry Potter, he was most probably well-known for shooting several episodes of The Bill. Meh. If studio execs wanted a commercially-friendly director...s'il vous plait and all that...Bluntly, the pace was too frenetic for a penultimate film; if it meandered like the River Thames than perhaps more people would care how Daniel Radcliffe concludes Harry's journey as "The Chosen One". I'm sure lots of people are still interested in Harry's plight, it's just that if it weren't so clichéd, it might be more interesting to people who have already read the book

Apart from that little moue of discontent, I will say the film looked a treat on the big screen and it's a shame that Warner Bros.decided not film it in 3 dimensions. However, the people working behind the cameras should be applauded - their work, primarily, makes the film "raw".

As the characters become quite nomadic due to thier...well, let's say popularity...inside the "revamped" Ministry of Magic headed by thick Pius Thicknesse (relative newcomer Guy Henry) there is a chance for renowned cinematographer Eduardo Serra (credits include Blood Diamond and Defiance) to show off his wares. The fact of the matter is he read the screenplay (written by experienced HP stagehand Steve Kloves and obviously adapted from Rowling's text) wrote for this movie and understood what was needed. It wasn't like it was a musical adventure rollicking among the White Cliffs of Dover. Instead, Serra gives the audience deeply evocative and even gothic imagery. Dark forests and foreboding hamlets pervade this movie.

Acting was top-notch in this film. Daniel Radcliffe played the part of journeyman to a tee. His was a mature perfomance, especially in the graveyard scene at Godric's Hollow, where perhaps the enormity of the mission hit home in more ways than one. Of course, this is only to be expected from an actor preparing to move on from Potter - future projects include the aptly-named The Journey is the Destination and we all know about his full-frontal in Equus. Other actors had their usual panache about them, but I am very much looking forward to Matthew Lewis' portrayal of Neville Longbottom, given the perfomance in his cameo  in Part I, and Neville's role in the final installment.

What also must be mentioned is the animation scene presented to us, concerning the legend of the eponymous Hallows. Here, animation director Ben Hibon creates a veritable Chinese lantern box. These seemingly-alive tableaux open before the audience's eyes and present extremely stylised images. For me, it was a real joy to view.

Overall, there was no nothing wrong with the movie. It did its job and that, depending on how you look at it, was to line the studio fat cats' pockets with dough or to generate drama for the ultimate finale. But saying that, in this case, is like saying the steak does the job in the getting the diners through to the neapolitan ice-cream. Like saying Shane Warne should trundle a few overs to prime Stuart MacGill. It's wrong, it's inverted and, when stumps are pulled at the end of the day, no matter how "raw" visually it may be, Harry Potter this time just barely scrapes a pass. Or too paraphrase Agent 86, Harry misses a fail "by that much"