So the girlfriend and I went to go see The Golden Compass tonight. There's a bit of weird layering here, as my fears about The Golden Compass being made in to a movie was one of the reasons I started blogging. Seriously. And this will be my last post at Ezra Klein's rapidly winding-down blog. And my first post at the new blog started by his weekenders, Cogitamus. And tomorrow will be the third anniversary of my blog.
So there's a bunch of things going on. But let's get back to the movie. Happily, the fundamentalist rage didn't manage to ruin the movie. Sadly, the movie was still ruined.
I think Stephanie Zacharek more or less nailed the movie's flaws, and its few virtues, with her review. But I had a curious sensation watching this movie, trying to figure out where I'd last seen a movie which had such a dissonant mix of good actors and high production values on the one hand, but absolutely atrocious writing on the other.
Oh yeah... The Chronicles of Riddick. Except this time, Vin Diesel is a polar bear.
And if you haven't seen it, Riddick really is a weird movie. You've got Thandie Newton, Colm Feore, and Dame friggin' Judi Dench, but somehow they've all been transported to this alternate universe where they're delivering some of the worst dialogue ever, within a truly atrocious story.
So let's just say that when I'm comparing it with Golden Compass, it's not a compliment.