Zach and I saw Stardust at a matinee with our friend Fred the other day. I enjoyed the movie a lot; it was beautiful to look at, filled with the supersaturated colors and awe-inspiringly mythic landscapes you get with a big CGI budget, and also tremendously enjoyable as a quest and love story.
I hope, however, that fantasy doesn’t wear out its welcome. To judge from the trailers we saw (The Dark Is Rising, The Spiderwick Chronicles, and a card about The Golden Compass), we are in for a spate of FX-intensive films about young people who Open the Gateway to Another World and/or Discover Their Mystical Destiny.
I’m a huge admirer of the Pullman series and am hoping that the film of The Golden Compass holds a candle–or, better yet, a candelabrum– to the book.
Do you, like me, love to be scared? Really scared, edge-of-seat shaking terrified, as opposed to just grossed-out (although that too has its pleasures)? Sadly, I am almost never genuinely scared by a movie or book. Entertained, yes. Titillated now and then with a frisson. But I had almost forgotten what it is like to sit in a movie theater and think that you can’t stand it another minute because something’s going to happen, any second now, and you don’t know what, and you’re crushing your partner’s hand in a death-grip only he doesn’t notice because he’s hyperventilating. . . .
So we went to that French horror film Ils (Them) tonight. It’s good. If you are interested in that sort of thing, I have a word of advice: Don’t read reviews, don’t look it up on the Internet, and certainly don’t even let your eyes fall on the movie poster or ad. I’m completely serious. A great part of the eerie, ghastly thrill of this movie was that right up to the end I could not be entirely certain exactly what was going on. Too much advance knowledge–any, really–would greatly have diminished the experience.
And now, if you can believe the ghastly horror of my own situation, I have another six pages on Forensics to write before I can turn in.