The Tao of Bau(er)

One topic that seems to pop up regularly on political blogs these days is whether or not 24 is a right-wing show or not. Kevin Drum had a representative post a few days ago:

So what’s up? The hyperkinetic world of 24, where good and evil clash, torture is a necessary tool, and terrorist threats are everywhere, is indeed a paean to modern Bushian conservatism. But when the action switches to the Oval Office, hawks are almost universally portrayed as either ideologues who panic at the first sign of trouble or else scheming superpatriots who are desperate to push the United States into unjustified wars as a way of advancing their own mercenary agendas. If Joel Surnow’s name weren’t attached to the series, you might guess that it had been produced by Michael Moore.

So is 24 liberal or conservative? Schizophrenic, I’d say.

That’s about right. The show does pretty much whatever it wants. I remember that after Season Two ended with Jack successfully averting a US military strike against a Middle Eastern country or two that had been implicated by false evidence for involvement in an attempted nuclear bomb detonation in LA, the Objectivist Loon over at the FSM message boards was beside himself because obviously when someone attacks you, you’re supposed to go after anyone who might be kinda-sorta simpatico with your attackers but not actually involved with the attack, anyway. How weird.

But after watching last night’s episode, I have to wonder why we keep talking about this, anyway. Last night we had the President of the United States in a medically-induced coma, and about two-thirds of the way through the hour (remember, 24‘s gimmick is that it takes place in ‘real time’), he actually crashed. And not only were the doctors able to bring him back from the brink of death, he was actually able to carry on a lucid conversation with his Vice President just minutes later! And remember, back in Season Two, at one point, Jack fell into the grips of the bad guys, who tortured him to the point where he was actually clinically dead — but of course, he rebounded minutes later to kill them and continue Bauerizing the world. And that’s to say nothing of the fact that on 24, nobody ever gets stuck in traffic. In Los Angeles. During a nuclear scare.

As for Jack and the dark deeds he always has to commit (he was ordered by the President to shoot his own commanding agent in the head in Season Three!), I’m starting to think that if they ever decide that a given season’s going to be the last season, I hope that all the bad stuff Jack’s had to do finally wears him down to the point where he goes over to the dark side and has to be taken out by the next guy. Jack’s last words should be “Tell Kim I’m sorry.” Nobody could do the things Jack’s had to do and not go insane.

I’ll close with a complaint: was the assassination attempt on David Palmer that closed out Season Two ever referenced again in any substantive way? I didn’t watch Seasons Four or Five, so I don’t know, but Season Two ended with an assassin shaking Palmer’s hand, and then with Palmer staring at his hand, and finally with Palmer writhing on the ground in agony. But when Season Three started the next fall, the calendar on the show had been moved up eight or nine months, and Palmer was out there Presidentin’ his heart out. The only reference to the assassination attempt I recall was a shot of the scar tissue on his hands. WTF? Imagine if Return of the Jedi had opened with the Millennium Falcon and Luke’s X-Wing rocketing away from Tatooine, with Han saying, “Hey Luke, thanks for rescuing me!”

Now that I’ve whined a bit about the lack of realism on 24, I hope you’ll excuse me while I pop Thunderball into the DVD player. That’s the stuff!

Share This Post

Brief linkage

Some short hits on stuff I’m seeing today:

:: Hayao Miyazaki’s new film is announced. The tale apparently involves a goldfish Princess who wants to become human. Here’s hoping, because I’ve always loathed The Little Mermaid.

:: Turkish Star Wars. I have absolutely no idea what this is all about. (Fairly long video, but if you watch the first minute or so, you get the idea.)

:: I don’t know how much of an influence I was in Jennifer‘s decision to make this purchase, but I can’t help but feel a little proud!

:: Tokyo’s long nightmare is over.

Well, gotta go. Work to do and all that. You know how it is.

Share This Post

Meh….

This week has been a blend of busy and not-feeling-like-posting. So I haven’t been posting. Will that continue? Who knows?

Anyway, a few thoughts on various stuff:

:: Watched Raines last night, and I had one of those cases where I read a lot of middling-to-negative reviews of a thing, watch it, and wonder if they watched the same thing I did. I found Raines very enjoyable; Jeff Goldblum delivered a fairly understated performance (as compared to, say, Jurassic Park, in which he hammed it up) as Detective Raines, who has conversations with the murder victims whose murders he is investigating.

The commercials made this all sound rather Sixth Sense-ish, but it’s not — the show makes clear that Raines isn’t really talking to the dead, but hallucinating them, which makes the conversations with them interesting in that the dead can’t give him hints, seeing as how as they have no more information than he has at any given point in the investigation.

Anyway, I found the pilot nicely written, with a story that moved right along, and some good and snappy dialogue. Sure, the murder mystery is fairly pedestrian — nothing there that you wouldn’t have seen on any episode of, say, Rockford Files or Magnum PI, but I enjoyed the show anyway.

:: Lance Mannion asks who our favorite TV detectives are. Mine is Andy Sipowicz from NYPDBlue, whose character growth over the show’s run was always fascinating to behold. The show creaked quite a bit with age as it got older, but even so, I always loved ol’Andy.

:: My “guilty pleasure” TV cop? Why, Don Johnson’s Nash Bridges, of course! I just found that show ridiculously entertaining a lot of the time. The show went on probably at least a season too long, but it was a lot of fun for a while. (In fact, with its Friday 10:00 timeslot, it made a wonderful partner with Millennium.)

Of course, watching Jodi Lyn O’Keefe blossom on the show was always pleasant:

:: I will buy this. Shut up. Those movies had nice music, aside from all the pop stuff.

:: “But Bill Clinton did it too!” Yeah, right.

:: I’m often the one on various Interweb fora to interject into long threads devoted to complaining about some TV show or book or whatever along the lines of, “Geez, if you hate it so much, why do you watch it so much?” A grand example can often be found over at the FSM message boards, where one regular member is a religious fan (and I mean “religious” quite literally) of the original incarnation of Battlestar Galactica, so much so that he’ll denounce with appropriate fleckling of the monitor with spittle the various plot machinations of the current version of the show. I once asked, “Why the hell are you watching something you loathe so completely?”, and he replied, “So I can discuss it.” I just don’t get the impulse to keep dwelling on something that brings you displeasure.

So why do I keep reading For Better or For Worse, then? Hell, I dunno — but I guess it’s fun to see that plenty of folks are annoyed by it in the same way that I am. Here’s a perceptive comment as to the way April is being treated in the strip:

But April is the only one of them who has a valid excuse for acting like an adolescent.

Liz had a pretty good independent life going for herself, until she suddenly and mysteriously decided that she was homesick and couldn’t take it anymore. So she quit her job and asked her boyfriend — who had already moved for her once — to move again, and then she fled south like a scared rabbit and moved in with Mommy and Daddy at the first opportunity. And then she was surprised when her boyfriend turned out not to be so excited about the “follow Liz wherever her whim takes her” plan as she’d thought he would be.

Mike and his family had the fire, so they had a pretty good reason for moving in… but why are they still there? They’ve got plenty of money to find another apartment, even if they do decide that they want to start looking for a house sometime soon. But no, Mike complains that every apartment they see is too small, too far away, too expensive, too something; and he’s completely terrified of the idea of buying a house. So they stay on in his parents’ house, and stay, and stay…

In the meantime, April has been evicted from her room and is sleeping in the rec room — which is also the storage space for Mike and Dee’s extra stuff. Too many people are using too few showers in the house, and apparently the people who can drive — which is pretty much everyone except April and the little kids — can’t be bothered to go grocery shopping often enough. April has been shunted off to a corner while her theoretically-adult siblings clamor for their parents’ attention.

Meanwhile, their grandfather has had a stroke and April is the only one of the family who seems to visit him consistently and still treats him like a person and not a fixture.

As James notes, on the scale of things all of this isn’t that huge a problem… but it is hard for a sixteen-year-old girl. What I find disgusting about the situation is that consistently, every time that April tries to suggest that this is hard for her — every single time — she’s smacked down and told that other people have it worse than her, so shut the hell up. Mike the Literary Genius and Liz the Broken-Hearted are treated with kid gloves, because of course their problems are serious and weighty — but April? April’s problems aren’t worth worrying about. Go back and hide in the rec room, April; the grown-ups are talking.

It’s incredibly dismissive of her feelings, which justified or not are still her feelings. This is how you teach people that they are worthless and insignificant and that nothing they do matters. April may be a fictional character, but I’d still rather that she not learn that lesson.

And here’s a great post on why Anthony is evil and must be destroyed.

:: Tomorrow morning: pancakes, bitches! We weren’t successful last year, but we did get a nice consolation prize: Charlie’s Diner in East Aurora, which is just a great little breakfast joint in the classic tradition.

:: The NCAA Tournament: as always, “Meh.”

And so it goes.

Share This Post

PZ and Skiffy

Apparently while I was offline, PZ Myers turned 50. And in doing so, he demanded that readers write poems celebrating him, or something. So here’s a tri-partite Fibonacci poem in honor of Dr. Myers:

I.

P
Z
has turned
fifty. May
he never meet an
axe murderer in overalls.

II.

He
is
the scourge
of I.D.,
but his secret love
is ever the cephalopod.

III.

For
a
guy who
descends from
monkeys, he’s oddly
mild-mannered. Clark Kent o’ the Plains.

(Anyone quibbling with my accounting of syllables will be subject to pistols at dawn!)

He also provides the latest “Bold it if you’ve done it” meme-thing, this time springing from somebody’s list of “the most significant SF and fantasy books ever” or something like that. Here’s the list, to which I have added some comment where appropriate. Bold means I’ve read the book; italics means I definitely plan to read the book; strike means I have no intention of reading the book, for one reason or another, and a question mark before the title means that I haven’t even heard of the book. No markup at all means I have no views on the book whatsoever. OK? OK.

The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien (Duh!)

The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov (I’m always surprised at the way Asimov’s writing seems to have fallen out of favor. I’ve loved the guy for years.)

Dune, Frank Herbert (I started it once, but I got exasperated at having to flip back to the glossary just about every other sentence. I’ll definitely read it again, though.)

Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein

A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin (Don’t remember it all that well. My reaction at the time was “Meh”. But then, I was in eighth grade.)

Neuromancer, William Gibson (Sorry, but cyberpunk just doesn’t do it for me. I started this novel four or five times before I decided that it simply wasn’t my cup of tea. One of the iconic opening sentences of SF, though.)

Childhood’s End, Arthur C. Clarke (I love Clarke, too. I’ve read a lot by him, but never this, for some reason.)

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick

The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley (I’d have found this book a lot easier to like if not for the continual “Wow, do Christians suck!” subtext. So much good stuff here, though.)

Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury

The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe

A Canticle for Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr. (Just got a copy from SFBC!)

The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov (Not familiar with this.)

? Children of the Atom, Wilmar Shiras

? Cities in Flight, James Blish (Aside from Blish’s novelizations of Star Trek episodes, I’ve read nothing by him at all. It’s really a shame how many SF authors are vanishing into the mists of out-of-print-land.)

The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett

Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison (Hey, Harlan, can we get a progress report on Last Dangerous Visions?)

? Deathbird Stories, Harlan Ellison

The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester

Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany

Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey (Tried McCaffrey years ago and bounced off her. Unlikely to try again.)

Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card (Sorry. I’m usually pretty good about not holding artists’ political views against them, but for some reason, I can’t get beyond the fact that Card is a homophobic reactionary twit.)

The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, Stephen R. Donaldson

The Forever War, Joe Haldeman

Gateway, Frederik Pohl (I loved this! I need to read the follow-up books.)

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, J.K. Rowling

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

I Am Legend, Richard Matheson (What a great book this was.)

Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice (Saw the movie, see little to be gained by reading the book. Loved the movie, though. Cruise was fine as LeStat, in my eyes.)

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin

? Little, Big, John Crowley

Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny (Ahhh, the Amber books. Gotta finish those.)

? The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick

? Mission of Gravity, Hal Clement

? More Than Human, Theodore Sturgeon

? The Rediscovery of Man, Cordwainer Smith

On the Beach, Nevil Shute

Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke

Ringworld, Larry Niven

? Rogue Moon, Algis Budrys

The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien (Tried once. Got about three pages in. Will try again.)

Slaughterhouse-5, Kurt Vonnegut

Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson (Best ending ever! OK, not really. Stephenson has no idea how to end his books.)

Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner

The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester (Just acquired this one, too.)

Starship Troopers, Robert A. Heinlein

? Stormbringer, Michael Moorcock

The Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks (I read this in seventh grade, before I read Tolkien. I’ve never tried reading it since, for obvious reasons. I tried reading Brooks’s non-Shannara series a few years ago — some kind of dark fantasy thing — and I didn’t like it, either.)

Timescape, Gregory Benford

? To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Philip Jose Farmer

I obviously haven’t read all of these, so I can’t properly judge how “essential” or “significant” every title here may be. Seems to me, though, that Tigana should be in there somewhere, or The Stand. (I consider horror to be part of the SF and fantasy rubric.)

And now this is where you can all jump in comments and tell me what an ill-read slob I am, that I haven’t read the Hitchhiker books or whatever else!

Share This Post

Shamus is evil and must be destroyed.

All that reading of Shamus‘s blog has, as I predicted here, finally demolished my resistance. Today at Target I weakened and bought, from the “cheap computer games” section, Galactic Civilizations (which apparently includes an expansion pack of some sort) and Freelancer. And I saw a bunch of others I’d like to try at some point as well, including a Star Wars five-pack thing.

(Shamus pleads ignorance here as to how this could happen, claiming that when he writes about games it’s mainly to rant and rave about them, but I know reverse psychology when I see it! He’s not fooling anybody!)

I figure that at least the games I bought kinda-sorta fall into my whole “space opera” research thing, right? Yeah, research. That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.

(But we’re having company this week, so I won’t be firing these games up until either next week or maybe even the week after.)

UPDATE: Shamus finally noticed this post, and is now twirling his mustache as his nefarious plot comes to fruition. Ah well.

Anyhoo, as noted, I haven’t played any of the games yet, due to Real Life stuff that has made it not-quite-a-good-idea to start playing yet. But this coming weekend? All bets are off. (This is shaping up to be a bad weekend, what with me planning to play one or more of the games and go to the brand-spankin’-new Borders nearby on Saturday. I just hope I remember to do the laundry, wash the dishes, and feed the cats!)

In his post, Shamus says this:

I must add, there is something humorously over-the-top about his approach to this that I find admirable. He didn’t just run out and get one game. No, he went in and got a big ‘ol pile.

It’s like a monk who decides to try alcohol for the first time, so he strides into the liquor store and gets a bottle of wine, some whiskey, a vodka, something printed in spanish which may or may not be be tequila, the makings for Jello-shots, and a case of beer. I mean, why screw around, right?

Well, you gotta dive in with both feet, right? What’s the point of starting halfway? Besides, there’s always the possibility that maybe the first game I try stinks, and if I don’t have another to jump into, how do I tell if it’s the game or if it’s me that isn’t working out right?

Anyway, for the time being, I plan to restrict myself to games from the Cheap Shelf at Target only (except for the afore-mentioned Star Wars fivepack, which comes out per game to about the same as a cheap game from the shelf at Target anyway.

Share This Post

Movies….

I’ve seen this quiz a few times in the last couple of days. It’s straightforward enough:

1. Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.

Casablanca.

2. Name a movie that you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.

When The Wife and I were first dating, we saw Aladdin together four times.

3. Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.

Hmmmmm. Not really sure, anymore. Harrison Ford used to be gold, but then he stopped picking good movies to do. Liam Neeson, maybe.

4. Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.

Adam Sandler (although he was quite good in Spanglish, where my dislike of the film had nothing to do with him).

5. Name a movie that you can and do quote from.

I’m always good for a Star Wars quote or two. (Big surprise.) And Wayne’s World; for years, my standard reply to anyone telling me that they have something for me is, “If it’s a severed head I’m gonna be very upset.”

6. Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.

Singin’ in the Rain.

7. Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.

My Fair Lady.

8. Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.

Princess Mononoke.

9. Name a movie that you own.

Just one? Odd question, so I’ll name the first DVD I see. [glances at shelf] I own Ben Hur.

10. Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.

Morgan Freeman. (Maybe not quite in the same vein as what the question is getting at, but who watched The Electric Company and saw in that guy Red from The Shawshank Redemption?)

11. Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?

Dammit, every year The Wife and I agree that we’re going to take The Daughter to the drive-in, and we never do. Anyway, my family went to Star Trek III at the drive-in.

12. Ever made out in a movie?

People do that at movies? You can do that at home! Why pay to see a movie and then make out?

Seriously, no, I’ve never done this. Hand-holding, sure, but that’s it. I’m watching the movie.

(When we saw Titanic, the couple in front of us starting necking during the friggin’ previews. They barely came up for air the whole movie. God, they were annoying.)

13. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven’t yet gotten around to it.

Oh, God, too many to name. Portrait of Jennie, I suppose. A friend tells me this is the most romantic movie ever.

14. Ever walked out of a movie?

No. But I’ve shut off movies I rented before.

15. Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.

Dances with Wolves. First time I saw that, I started when the soldiers shot Two-Socks. I’m not that bad with it anymore, but I still cry when Wind In His Hair climbs the promontory just to shout his farewell to his friend.

16. Popcorn?

I can’t see a movie without popcorn. I happily munched my way through a medium popcorn during the first half hour of Schindler’s List. (But I did not make out during Schindler’s List!)

17. How often do you go to the movies (as opposed to renting them or watching them at home)?

Fairly rarely anymore. I love going to the movies, but the price of doing so has reached the point where it’s now a special occasion. Alas.

18. What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?

Casino Royale.

19. What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?

Anything that entertains me, really. I just like movies.

20. What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?

Snow White. My mother tells me that it scared the living shit out of me, and having seen it in recent years, I can see why. There’s some grim stuff in that movie.

21. What movie do you wish you had never seen?

Highlander. Never has the gulf between the expectations I had based on the gushing by my friends and my actual experience of watching the movie been so wide.

22. What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?

Not sure what we mean by “weird” here…but I seem to be pretty weird in my steadfast admiration for The Phantom Menace.

23. What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?

The Silence of the Lambs.

24. What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?

Ask me this question tomorrow and I’ll say Monty Python and the Holy Grail. But you’re asking today, so I’m saying A Fish Called Wanda.

Your turn.

Share This Post

Sequential Art

I’ve been reading some comics and graphic novels lately, and I have more to go over the next few weeks. Here’s what I’ve read:

:: Marvels, by Kurt Busiek and Alex Ross.

I liked this quite a bit, but I wanted to like it more. The conceit here is an encapsulation of the first few decades of the Marvel Comics universe, starting with the debut of the Human Torch and ending shortly after the death of Gwen Stacy. The tale is told, however, from the viewpoint of a normal person witnessing all this: news photographer Phil Sheldon, who documents the adventures and battles of all the superheroes who would fill out the Marvel universe.

The best thing about this work is the art. Alex Ross’s paintings are often stunning, and it turns out (via a series of appendices) that he includes a lot of visual in-jokes along the way. The images are cinematic in the things they focus upon, how the characters move, and in how the action plays out.

Of course, this wouldn’t be a Marvel series without a nice-sized helping of angst, and we get that a lot here. Sheldon’s feelings about the sudden oncoming of superpowered beings tracks the general feeling that the Marvel Universe always posited, right down to the hatred and mistrust of mutants, and — well, frankly, a little of that goes a long way. Our narrator, Phil Sheldon, stews constantly over the public treatment the heroes receive from the public, so much so that about halfway through the four-episode set I was thinking, “OK, we get it. People suck even in the presence of superheroes.”

But the panoramic view of a large segment of the Marvel history is often amazing in a way that I, as a comics fan, often failed to notice when buying my titles each month. I enjoy the attempt to portray just what the effect on the populace would be — not just that heroes exist, but also because superheroes have enemies who like to destroy large whacks of large cities at a time.

As noted, I loved the artwork. (Gwen Stacy, as pictured here, is utterly beautiful.) I just wish the story had invested itself more in the sense of wonder than in the constant Marvel angst.

:: The Death of Superman.

Somehow, when this massive stunt by DC in 1991 (or thereabouts) took place, I never read it. Now I have.

And it sucked.

There’s a way to kill a major comic book character, and there’s a way not to do it. The right way is to make their death dramatically important. Superman’s…wasn’t.

The story? While Superman is going about his daily business, a horrible being named Doomsday bursts free from…somewhere, and makes his way to Metropolis, destroying everything he touches on his way. The tale ends with a fistfight between Superman and Doomsday, at the end of which both characters are dead.

Then there’s a follow-up storyline called World Without a Superman which fares a bit better; there’s some sense of real emotion there that was absent in the whole Death storyline. All the Metropolis stuff is still fairly dull, though; the only really interesting stuff is to be found in the reactions of Jonathan and Martha Kent to the passing of their adoptive son.

I started reading The Return of Superman, but I haven’t made a lot of progress and I’m not sure I care enough to finish it.

As much as I love comics, I have to admit that I may be losing my taste for superhero tales.

:: The Yellow Jar and Silk Tapestry (volumes one and two of Songs of our Ancestors), by Patrick Atangan.

Now here is some beautiful work. These two very small books — I read them both, taking my time on the words and savoring the art in their 96 total pages, in about ninety minutes — each tell a couple of short folk tales. The Yellow Jar is from the Japanese tradition, while Silk Tapestry‘s stories come from China. (There’s a third book, Tree of Love, which tells tales from India that I haven’t read yet.)

I don’t really want to say anything about these more than that. It’s just that after all the heavy superhero stuff where the Fate of the Earth/Universe/Multiverse hangs in the balance, turning back to lovingly illustrated folk tales is a pleasure not unlike a bit of lemon sorbet after a heavy meal.

Share This Post

Yeah, I’ll have a Screaming Viking!

Back when I was soliciting space opera reading suggestions*, a reader e-mailed me (or maybe he commented, I can’t recall) about a book called Space Viking by H. Beam Piper. I saw a few copies on eBay, but never acquired one.

Now, I see that I won’t have to. Viva Project Gutenberg!

OK, all you geniuses, what’s a good gizmo on which to read e-books?

(via)

* Not that I’ve stopped soliciting space opera reading suggestions, folks. Feel free to keep those coming!

Share This Post

“I’ll be right here”

Over at AICN they’ve started running a series of articles that are apparently a tribute to 1982, which Harry Knowles bills as the “best genre year ever”. Now, I’m not sure about that, but it’s a personal thing — Knowles was twelve, which as we all know actually is the true Golden Age of science fiction. Anyhow, the first article he runs is about that year’s megablockbuster film ET: the Extra-Terrestrial.

Here’s something about E.T., and only a few, few other movies… it gets childhood intrinsically, so completely RIGHT. High praise indeed for Melissa Mathison’s script, which has the cadence and the smart-assery that is inherent in every kid. Childhood is messy and joyful, dangerous and crude. Everything is truly an adventure, and nothing is certain. The kids cuss, like I certainly did. They ride their bikes recklessly, just one skid or sharp turn away from slamming into the pavement and serious injury. There is a sense of danger every day. And when you’re a kid, you LOVE it. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, like waking up a summer’s day and having no idea what the day will bring. Spielberg nailed that.

Yeah, I still blubber like a baby at that damn movie. Sometimes I blubber just thinking about it. The moment that always gets me started is when ET goes into defib, and they get out the paddles to try to shock his heart back into beating. The doctor puts the paddles on ET’s chest, yells “Clear”, hits the button; ET’s body convulses as the voltage pours through him; and about twenty feet away, little Gertie (Drew Barrymore) recoils with fear, and then starts to cry.

Uh, I’m gonna go check something out in the corner…don’t mind me….

Share This Post