Mortimer

Okay, MentzerLivesOn, I think I can grant the following... 1. It's unreasonable ever to go to a SLAPSTICK comedy expecting it to say something insightful... about culture, the human condition, etc... a. I'm arguing that Nape D. is a slapstick comedy because it principally endeavors to be funny through physical comedy and sight gags (and the whole time machine bit is painfully hilarious). b. I have, honestly, seen and enjoyed dumber slapstick comedies -- Strange Brew still makes me smirk just by remembering scenes -- but I didn't find Napolean Dynamite anywhere near as funny. Whatever. To each his own. 2. But I think it's worth noting that slapstick comedies can manage to say something astute. Consider Brazil. It's packed full of absurdity and nonsense --and yet manages to offer a scathing condemnation of a police state, which, oddly enough, has bearing on our current political situation. But, again, I agree: we shouldn't expect slapstick comedies to have high aspirations -- it's absurd to hold something deliberately absurd to a high standard. I simply maintain that a sharp, witty, carefully-written slapstick comedy can manage to make profound comments. And I am, personally, disappointed that more of them don't try. Okey doke -- hope you don't think I'm railing against you personally. Just trying to engage in some cerebral sparring. Happy Movie-going

I just saw this film tonight -- and I'm honestly not certain what to say about it. It made me chuckle occasionally. It made me cringe sometimes -- 'cause I identified with the peculiar characters. How sad is that? But I think the characters were exceptionally well rendered -- their expressions, their conversations, their mannerisms -- all seemed perfectly in synch with people I knew. They felt real to me, living their peculiar little lives. And if they'd gotten together for a game of D&D, I swear I would've been right there with 'em, arguing over what I needed to hit an orc with my +2 cudgel of concussion. I admit, it's rare to see characters so honestly depicted -- but it felt somehow like an anti-film, full of neither sound nor fury and yet trying to signify something. What, exactly, I can't say. Even Napolean seemed preoccupied with escaping the mind-numbing banality of his existence -- e.g., all those horrible drawings of fantasy creatures. The show was critically acclaimed -- maybe because quirky, understated stories provide critics with blank screens upon which to project all their enlightened views. And me the average movie-goer is left at the end with a blank look on my face -- a perfect match for the protagonist's -- wondering why? Why invest so much time? Why spend $200K to say so very little? Really, I suppose it boils down to what you expect from movies. Me... if I spend eight bucks to sit in a state-of-the-art theater with booming surround sound, I want SOUND. If it's a thirty-foot screen, I want characters who are, literally and figuratively, larger than life and full of FURY. And, if I sacrifice two hours to sit in the darkness and watch shadow puppets, I want it to signify SOMETHING. And I wonder what Napolean Dynamite would say if he was forced to sit through his own movie. 'Gya! That was the dumbest video ever!" Okay, 'Nuff babble