Another week starts-- here's your hulk review

Happy lunchtime to ya!

Fuck.

That Fuck was brought to you by several occurrences so far today. One, my period started (which means no �fuck� for a few days, but it�s not really a bad sign, eh?). Two, my gold membership ended a few days before I thought it would (Explanation for the non-diaryland inclined: I might not have images hosted for a couple of days until I fork over the change to el Andrew, and I had to wait for the �add an entry� thingy to pop up). Three: I�m out of good, definitive advice.

Okay, this is a weird situation. I usually pride myself at being able to give good, solid advice that I believe in. It never matters if the person you�re giving advice to accepts what you say, but it always makes people feel better that you�ve got a specific opinion. That helps them make up their own mind. Usually coming up with a well defined answer isn�t a problem for me. This stems from the fact that I�m horribly over opinionated, and like meddling in other peoples lives. In a good way, I assure you. Over the past two weeks (fortnight?) I�ve faced an odd delimma of someone else�s, and haven�t quite been able to grasp my own opinion on the subject. That�s rare, and somewhat unexpected.

I blame it on my period.

Hell, we should blame everything on my period. Although my period is a special delivery of calm, pleasing feelings: �Good thing I�m not knocked up,� it�s a notorious source of sour emotions: �Fuck, another pair of underwear ruined,� �Fuck, I feel like shit,� or my personal favorite- �Fuck, you know what? Fuck you.� Since I�m pretty goddamn irritable (I was really fucking irritable yesterday, but more on that later) during my period, I always feel like I�m being mean to everyone. Realistically, I�m not being mean, just a little more honest.

ie-- said about the whitman game stop�s store manager within earshot: �I just don�t like Sean.� I don�t know if he heard me, and right about now, guess what? I don�t care. Why? �Cause I don�t like Sean. Don�t hate him-- just don�t like him.

Anyway, I�ve had this sinus headache for a while, and it really wasn�t bothering me until a few days ago, when I got the Migraine that Wouldn�t Die. I�m not a frequent Migraine sufferer. When I do get one, it stays with me for days. I�ll go to sleep with it, and wake up with it. Tylenol doesn�t really help the physical pain, but the psychological feeling of taking something makes me feel a little better in my imagination. These are migraines that hurt like having a gerbil trapped in your skull, trying to burrow it�s way out with a dull spatula in place of it�s teeth.

Yeowch!

So I spent the majority of the weekend in my apartment, nursing my migraine, trying to avoid direct sunlight and cleaning.*insert gasps of regular readers and people who know me in real life* It looks nice. I stayed inside until like, late sunday afternoon, when frank called me up and said that everyone (everyone= Frank, Peng, Jason, Mike, eventually Crazian John) were gonna go see the Hulk, and asked if I wanted to go too. I being me (Who the fuck else would I be, I mean-- really.) said, �Sure!� I should have thought about what I said yes to, and kindly asked Frank to get everyone else to see another movie, or to maybe just come over instead. Frank and I had discussed several times before that combined, we had little/no interest in seeing The Hulk in the theater. Nothing against the Marvel empire, (I loved spiderman, and good casting on Tobey, ya�ll) but the Hulk looked shitty from the very first preview I saw. Oh, guess what?

It was shitty.... and the hot(?) chick (Betty... Jenny Connely�s role) gets killed by Bruce Banner�s dad at the end. How pointless is that? All that character development for nothing...

Oh it gets worse.

Oooh, big, green, angry CGI guy breakin� stuff- Starring Jennifer Connely�s nipples and the Australian guy who isn�t wolverine. I mean, starring Jennifer Connely and Eric Banana... Eric Bana.

The movie was directed by that Crouching Tiger guy, Angus �Steak� Lee, which honestly made me think that at least the direction was really going to kick ass. I was sorely mistaken. In case you didn�t know, Ang Lee directed Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. If you�re among the twelve American people who didn�t see the movie, it was a Chinese action/drama/martial arts flick with a lot of jumping, ass kicking, and flying, and a romantic fairy tale of a story. Ang Lee did a lovely job with Crouching Tiger. It�s possible that the Warner Brothers people failed to realize that no one wanted anything lovely to be done with a tale about a big american freak of nature who destroys things out of anger. Perhaps their selection of a director was a mistake.

They used this funky comic book cell panel thing with a lot of the scenes. This style split the screen like a comic book, and overlapped action like a stylized picture-in-picture tv. Frank was fidgeting in his seat -this is only the first half hour, mind you- over the cell panel scene style the first two or three times they sued it. I thought it was kinda cool until they over used it-- almost in the way the movie was over promoted, and over hyped. The direction wasn�t horrible, but the editing was a little too fucking artsy for a COMIC BOOK movie. I mean, nobody went to see the hulk with any sort of desire for depth, and a bigger meaning. People went to see a big green motherfucker break things and kill people on a large screen. Nobody died on-screen, but there was a big green motherfucker... wait, there was a big, green computerized motherfucker.

There were a lot of angry people in the movie, who weren�t the hulk. General Ross, Betty�s dad who was kind of the bad guy (?) was all pissed off. The Hulk�s dad (David Banner) was all pissed off. The slimy dude, Glenn, that kept visiting them planning a hostile takeover was all pissed off. Then there�s this chick, Betty, who�s like the anti-angry-man. Calm, reflective, pure, feminine and honest, Betty was like the Bruce to their Hulk.

Why were they trying to deliver plot-- with meaning? No! That�s not how it�s done!! There needs to be at least one bad guy, at least one hot girl, and at least one dramatic death. I expect, enjoy, and require getting these things from a comic book movie. Think about a quality comic-turned film, and you will find these elements. There was some nice product placement, though-- for Kodak and Nikkon. Toyota got a good plug too.

Between shoving in our faces that Bruce had a serious �Inner Struggle,� and fifteen bazillion pointless monologues by various character�s fathers, my patience for this movie was dissipating way before the second hour began. Yes, this film was almost two and a half hours long.

The point that needs to be made is this-- The Hulk wasn�t really a story based upon the emotional conflicts of Bruce Banner, his interpersonal relationships and how life really is a series of struggles between the rage within us all and our peaceful facades. The story was concerned with The Hulk squishing bad guys with random large objects and being really angry. Grrr! Although a piece of me appreciates the effort placed into creating more than the obvious from the story, and attempting to give it depth, a big fat fucking chunk of me thinks that was a really dumb idea. That, and no one received oral sex.

That one�s for Mike, although he doesn�t read this....I should go to film school, lol.

I had a good time though. I enjoy bitching about movies with my friends. Mike L (Who�s in my glossary as Mike V... whoops, I don�t know a Mike V, lol) went on a rant for the entire drive home. It was great, he really is a little Frank. It�s fun watching them interact. Fun, but pretty fucking scary.

Geez, did I spend my entire lunch break writing about the fucking hulk? That�s barley a quality update. Sorry guys. I have a lot of work to be doing.

Well, yeah I did, but now it�s like 5, (wah wah wahhhhhh) and I�m leaving this place. Tomorrow I�ll give you all a better update.

Let�s hear it for Aquarius, the sign of the blame bearer. Have a great afternoon, and an even better tomorrow. :-)

Love an� adoration hulkin out for all,

Pam