So, remember how I said, "Hey! I have a blog, and I'm going to write in it all the time, and it'll be super cool!"? Yeah. Clearly, I'm the sort of person who follows up on stuff. (Actually, I just don't know how to budget my time, and I always wind up running out of it. For everything.)
Well, I went DVD shopping a little this weekend, so I actually have something to say. I went to Borders with a coupon and a list of 4 DVDs (one of which, Ginger Snaps, I didn't actually expect to find, so 3, really): Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Futurama: Into the Wild Green Yonder, and Clue. According to the website, all 3 should be available in the store I normally go to. I get in my car, and go to the store, only to discover that once again, the store availability option on the site has lied to me (about F&L and Clue, anyway. I got Futurama). I search and search, to no avail. Meanwhile, in my travels, I find Repo: The Genetic Opera and one of John Waters' more obscure titles, Female Trouble. (I also picked up Compulsion, the 1959 Orson Welles version of Murder By Numbers, starring young Dean Stockwell; I put it in the DVD player Saturday night, but promptly fell asleep, so I can't tell you anything about it). Why in heaven's name would they have those, but not the ones I was looking for, is utterly beyond me.
Anyway, Repo. Where do I even begin to explain why I paid money for the privilege of torturing myself with this item? Well, if you know me personally, it makes sense. (Especially if you're a certain pseudo-husband- according to him, everything I watch is like that.) I enjoy things that are unusual, offbeat, weird, and yes, sometimes terrible. It was all of those things, and a musical. I absolutely adored the visual style of the film; lovely blues and reds everywhere, super-saturation in some scenes, comic-book panels as bookends and to introduce backstory. Most of the actors were serviceable, though I was not fond of Alexa Vega for the most part. I did enjoy Paris Hilton a little, please kill me now, and I liked Sarah Brightman and Paul Sorvino and naturally I loved Anthony Stewart Head. Not all of them have mad singing skills, and perhaps in a movie where the music was written a little better, that might have been an issue. As it stands, however, the music was little more than sing-songy spoken word set to music. The plot was thin, and the dialogue thinner. It's often difficult to translate stage plays to film (Sweeney Todd, anyone?) and they generally suffer for it. Most of the deficiencies seem like they could be of that lost-in-translation type. It's too bad, because the underlying premise is interesting and could have been something really exciting in more capable hands. I won't say I'm disappointed that I spent the money (I did have that coupon, after all), and I will certainly watch it again, but it will always be with a bittersweet sigh for what could have been.
Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. As soon as I figure out how to budget my time, I'll watch Compulsion and let you know how I feel about Crazy Orson Welles as Sandra Bullock and Young Dean Stockwell as Michael Pitt. Until then, toodle-oo!