Deborah Lipp

Moviehole is reporting that there’s a possibility of a Serenity sequel, perhaps direct-to-DVD.

When Alan Tudyk told me on the phone this morning that a sequel to “Serenity” – that’s the name of the “Firefly” movie for those who’ve been up at Guantanamo Bay for the past couple of years – could be happening I just about dropped the phone (I didn’t though, because the last time I did that it landed in the loo. Fried itself. And as a consequence, I lost all my numbers.) Tudyk says the newly-released “Serenity : Special Edition“ DVD has been selling so hot, that there’s talk in doing another movie.

“They had to put [the new DVD] out because they’ve been selling out of the other one and so Universal’s like ‘So, let’s do another one’. And now… there’s now a chance there’s going to be another movie”.

Tudyk agrees that even if it was a direct-to-DVD movie, it’d still be worthwhile. Especially since the whole DVD sequel is a big trend.

“It really is”, says Tudyk. “Everybody in the Firefly crew – and that includes the ones who died in the movie – are excited about the prospect of doing another”.

Yes, yes, yes! I’d totally drop my phone in the loo for that!

h/t to Whedonesque.

In the past year, I’ve seen three different documentaries about competitive language games: Spellbound, Wordplay, and most recently, Word Wars. Each is good in its own right. Word Wars was the least satisfying for me, but I am left to wonder if it’s in the nature of competitive Scrabble® to be a less pleasurable experience.

Spellbound is the most famous of these films. This Oscar-nominated film is about the word contests most in the public eye: spelling bees. It obliquely manages to address a lot of social issues. In my original review of it I wrote: “The film functions beautifully as a tour of the U.S. and of Americans. With so many children of immigrants competing, it says something about the process of becoming American. But this is never a lecture; we are watching a competition and meeting competitors. They are charming, annoying, funny, and abrasive by turn, and we are thoroughly captivated. Still, most of what we’re seeing has a lot to do with race and class. It was hard not to root for the poor kids against those with access to private tutors and computers.” What was going on in Spellbound was what the competition meant to the kids and their families, and how their circumstances in life enabled or hindered their ability to study.

Wordplay, although also centered around a competition, was not really about competition so much as about the love of the subject. Everyone in this documentary loves crossword puzzles. Some people simply do them alone, daily or on Sundays. Some compete. Some attend competitions with no hope of hitting the highest levels, simply for the joy of interacting with other cruciverbalists. Wordplay is aptly named; the competitors are, at heart, playing.

Word Wars, too, is aptly named, because the competitors in this game are at war. There seems to be no inherent love of the game, or indeed, of the words. In fact, we are briefly introduced to some foreign competitors who don’t speak English very well; the game is purely memorization to them. As a player, I know both crosswords and Scrabble have an elegance to the way words intersect. The language is beautiful, and the way the words lay over one another is beautiful. While Wordplay is very much about that beauty, Word Wars couldn’t care less. In fact, competitor Marlon Hill specifically and pointedly rejects learning what the words mean. The competitors argue and trash talk about one another, they treat competing as a game of machismo—there are almost no women. While the movie is good for what it is, it’s not nearly as much fun as I’d hoped, and in fact, has turned me off from the notion of ever attending such an event.

New Shows
I saw the Grey’s Anatomy episode that served as a pilot for Private Practice, and I thought it stunk stinky stink stuff. A lot of pretty people competing for camera angles and whining about the angst and agony of being successful, wealthy, gorgeous professionals.

Having decided not to ever subject myself to it again, I nonetheless ended up zombied in front of the first ten minutes or so of the premiere, and let me tell you, the pilot was Shakespeare compared to this shit. Private Practice makes you forget that Addison was ever an interesting or compelling character on Grey’s; that’s right, it’s so bad it can travel back in time and make other things retroactively bad. That’s pretty bad.

The Bionic Woman does a lot right and has enough going on that some people will be interested in watching. But not me. Although I love seeing Miguel Ferrer and Will Yun Lee in supporting roles, the central characters are incredibly stiff. Casting also has a thing for huge blue eyes, so several characters kind of look alike. Our title character (Michelle Ryan) has a romance with the big expert on bionics (Chris Bowers), and this romance is life-altering for both of them, but it’s got anti-chemistry. When they have sex, I want to count ceiling cracks. And the rest of it seems very by-the-numbers, very television: Here’s our cool hero, here’s our cool villain, look how we’ve “subtly” established that the kid sister is a computer whiz, and hey, look, technology. Whatever.

Reaper is actually pretty charming. The premise is that a slacker’s parents sold his soul to the devil (Ray Wise), payable on his 21st birthday. The pilot opens the day Sam (Bret Harrison) turns 21. There’s definitely wit and I definitely laughed, aided by the fact that this episode was directed by Kevin Smith. The sidekick, played by Tyler Labine, is trying too hard to be Jack Black, but overall the tone works. It’s a lot like Dead Like Me, except not annoying. Sam’s Satanic job is to collect souls who have escaped from Hell and return them. Thus you have a little adventure and f/x every week, and some humorous fights (this week the “vessel” of collection was a Dirt Devil, next week it’s a remote-controlled monster truck). Plus, Sam’s job is actually pretty moral—he’s fighting demons—so he isn’t minding it, and you can already see the ironic character arc where do-nothing Sam learns to be a good guy while serving Hell. Plus there’s the hopeless crush on the “just friends” girl.

New Seasons
House was the best thing on television for two years, and limped along (no pun intended) last year on a great cast with considerably weaker writing. Unfortunately, season 4 is looking a lot like season 3. The pilot introduced some new twists, but the medicine was stupid, and the outrage was the wrong kind of outrageous. Robert Sean Leonard, as House’s only friend, was absolutely brilliant this episode, totally stole the show, but I don’t see the holy shit I can’t believe I’m watching this dazzle of year one.

Heroes started kind of okay. I mean, it was a very fine episode, reuniting us with characters, checking in on how things have changed, establishing some important mysteries, and introducing some new heroes. But overall, it seemed like an episode for the established fans. I don’t see how this particular episode could have succeeded in bringing new viewers on board. Which is a shame, because it really is an excellent show.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005) 10/10
Harry Lockhart (Robert Downey Jr.) tells the tale of how he got flown to Hollywood for a screen test. There he runs into his childhood sweetheart Harmony (Michelle Monaghan) and is introduced to a detective known as “Gay Perry” (Val Kilmer). Gay Perry is supposed to teach Harry about real detective work for his upcoming role. Soon Harry, Perry, and Harmony are embroiled in a complex murder mystery that hearkens back to the Johnny Gossamer detective stories that Harmony adored as a child.

I was completely surprised by Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. First, because I had a mistaken impression of what I was renting—the title, and the reviews I’d quickly skimmed, gave me the impression it was a spy movie parody (“Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” is a phrase associated with James Bond). But in fact, detective movies are a very different genre than spy movies, and this film plays in the detective realm. I’m not even sure I’d call it a parody. Certainly it is a comedy—a very witty one—that plays with Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane sensibilities, but it’s not interested in sending up those movies. It’s really just interested in having fun, while commenting wryly on the difference between reality and the movies.

And this movie is tremendous fun. Starting with the opening narration (“My name is Harry, and I’ll be your narrator”), it whips along at breakneck pace, tossing off bon mots faster than I can look up the correct way to pronounce them. Downey and Kilmer have terrific chemistry, and Monaghan, while not a great actress, keeps up with the twists and turns gamely. In fact, this is more a screwball comedy than anything else, with Monaghan and Downey providing the romantic banter, with a second (and more prominent) layer of banter between Kilmer and Downey. Monaghan is no Rosalind Russell, but she makes a fine Girl Friday.

Through Harry’s narration, KKBB tells you about detective stories (particularly the fictional Johnny Gossamer) while contrasting them with real murder mysteries. Inevitably, you know you’ll find the plot becoming increasingly like the fictional sort, to Harry and Perry’s chagrin. There are a few small missteps—the “aha” moment that you expect at the end of any detective story was too opaque, and an obvious joke about “there are always exactly sixteen deaths” could easily have paid off with sixteen deaths (instead there were about ten).

Still, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is a movie full of charm, wit, and good will, while still having a satisfying sense of menace.