The Year in Retrospect

or

Another frigging "Best Of/Worst Of"

It's that time of year, kids and kidettes. 2002, in most respects, wasn't a year I can comment upon extensively as a consumer. For one thing, the first half of the year I had little to no money to see the films I wanted, and the books I wanted to read remained elusively out of print. For another thing, once I had the money, I didn't have the time or energy to properly immerse myself into the medium as much as is my wont.

For me, it's not enough to simply watch a movie. You've got to have an hour or so afterwards to list its technical and symbolic successes and failures (quart of Guiness mandatory). After that, I've got to read a few well-respected Internet reviews (or, if Rotten Tomatoes isn't cutting it, Peter Travers or Roger Ebert will do in a pinch) and get the gist of what other people are saying about it. If any of it is good, and non-copyrighted, it's mine for the taking, and a good four hours of such research is well worth the energy leeched and real work neglected (bottle of bourbon optional). Then I write my own review, revise (bottle of glue to be sniffed mandatory), publish, and then yank it back off to put in a few gems of wisdom. All too often, what's running through my head is, "Hey, look at this piece of gold, maggots! I'm head and shoulders above you all! Hell, I'm fuckin' Shakespeare!"

Of course, once the "you screwed up" e-mails roll in ("that comment about misogyny in Mission Impossible: II can't even be called ill-founded since that would assume you founded it on anything in the first place") or, even better, nothing at all ("review? what review? hey, you want to buy some Internet porn?"), such grandeurs hardly endure. It usually takes another bottle or two of glue to set me straight again.

Still, I've done the best I can keeping up, perhaps not so much with what America (or popular America, or popular white-boy America, or whatever) would consider hot or not, but at least with what I believe should be highly-regarded or not. And since it's always been easier to rip apart than to praise, let me start with:

The P.U.s of 2002

Straight Out Worst Movie: Master of Disguise--Admittedly I didn't see this one. But I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that any movie starring a man who not only disguises himself as a turtle, or calls himself a turtle, or sticks his head back and forth and reiterates "Tuuuurtle...tuuuurtle..." but is also meant to be taken humorously will probably not replace Citizen Kane on the AFI list. Nuff said.

Worst sequel: Men In Black II. I only considered the first one so-so, but this one takes the taco. Cute, cuddly singing dogs, a hackneyed love story and more of those stupid worms. Give it up already.

Worst trailer: The Matrix Reloaded. It's just not long enough. So there.

Worst style: Avril Lavigne. I never heard of her until I casually asked someone what the deal was with all these girls wearing men's designer clothes. Then I heard the music. Then I heard the music combined with the sight of the performer, and I remembered how parents used to complain about Madonna's bare belly. Somehow, I can't help feeling nostalgic.

Worst argument: Anything Dick Cheney said about the necessity of war on Iraq. Weapons inspectors list dozens of assertions about Iraq's lack of threat to the U.S., from their inability to construct weapons of mass destruction to their inability to get them to reach the U.S. Cheney's response? "They're lying. Next question." Were I to receive such a response in my writing class, I doubt even I could be sweet-talked out of giving an F on the logos appeal.

Worst cliche: Although "my bad" seemed to be edging out of the average adolescent's vocabulary by late 2000, it has recently come back by a landslide. If you examine the etymology behind the phrase, some admission of guilt is implied. If you listen to its use today, it would remind you more of a Catholic dogma of forgiveness. I busted a kid for swearing in class, to which he responded, "Oh, my bad," and then couldn't believe I had to follow through with a detention. "I said my bad!" he screeched, to which I responded, "And I said 'You're right.'"

Worst cable TV screwup: Transformers Armada. I never thought the day would come when I would say 80's animation kicks the shit out of the new millenium's. Haven't we been treated to such eye-strippers as Princess Mononoke or even, I guess, Shrek? Can't they do better for a Transformers revival than a bunch of blockheaded robots stumbling around, moving their mouths but nothing else while they fight? And the story? "Little robots give us power! Soon they will be mine! Ah hahahahahaha!" That's not worth getting up early for on a Saturday morning. It's not even worth leaving work for on a weekday (not that that stops me).

Second Worst cable TV screwup: The Cartoon Network finally decides to rerun Futurama, only it's on at 11 p.m. Sunday through Thursday! The local taxpayers don't let me stay up that late!

Now for the hard part. I've got to extol the work of others. 2002 was host to a number of either dubious successes, or semi-promising indicators, which, when you're having a bad year, is probably the best you can hope for. In no particular order:

The Dubious Successes or Semi-Promising Indicators of 2002

(pardon the redundancy)

Best Film: Road to Perdition. A lot of people scoffed at any claims that Tom Hanks deserved an Academy Award for his role in Cast Away. As The Critic Jay Sherman complained, "Where's he gonna put it?" Still, there's no way to step over true talent, even if it keeps knocking you over the head year after year. Hanks has proved his mettle in this gripping piece of work, and if that weren't enough, there's still Paul Newman and Jude Law to consider. Most likely this one will be short-changed since it came out over the summer, but here's hoping anyway.

Most Pleasant Cinematic Surprise: Robin Williams. I always had a high opinion of his acting (such turkeys as Death to Smoochy aside), but this year's One Hour Photo and Insomnia cast him in entirely new roles, with sometimes surprising and always pleasing results. I hear Williams was a pain in the ass in high school as a kid because of his gifted intelligence. With these films under his belt, I'm almost willing to forgive him as an educator, but not until he comes back as Edward Nygma/The Riddler in a future Batman movie.

Best Trend-setter: Spider-Man. It's about time they did a movie based on one of the comics' more popular characters (I can't fucking believe Captain America had a series in the 90's before the Wall Crawler), and the whole thing seems to have set off an avalanche of Marvelesque films (Daredevil, The Hulk, and, if rumors are to be believed, some day The Fantastic Four to name a few). Bring it on. Bring it all on. When you get to Ant-Man, though, give it a rest.

Best musical release: The Iron Maiden Boxed Set. No, really. You can take your Eminems and Susan Tidechis and shove them. Shove them sideways, if they'll fit. This selection isn't just about the music--it's about the merchandise as well. My brother latched onto the coolest boxed set in the world for my Christmas present, and the fact that Iron Maiden did it is only incidental. Believe me, it hurts to admit this, dedicated Maiden fan that I am, but we're talking about a boxed set complete with tin box (death's head glaring at you from the cover), shot glass, band family tree bound in metal, and three (3) two-disc sets of music. One of them delivers the long-awaited B-sides which, even if you're not a Maiden fan, will knock your socks off. It covers a lot of ground, and it kicks a lot of ass. Brother, I take back (almost) everything bad I ever said about you.

Best Indication of a Shitty New Millenium: Public Contempt for the Underdog. Sounds hazy, but let me explain: The underdog used to be a popular figure, one that we could all identify with. He may not get his way all the time, and he may get kicked around by people bigger than him (Charlie Brown, Droopy Dog, George Bush Sr.), but sooner or later, he gets his comeuppance. Nowadays, the underdogs are either way under us (Jackass: The Movie), too cutesy-cuddly-ignorant to ever get fazed (Sponge Bob), or else they get a few ideas of their own and start venting their aggressions on the rest of the world (George Bush Jr., Bill Gates). So what are we left with? Underdogs to the underdogs. Since when did bulging muscles and a square jaw ever remotely spell "stereotypical loser"? If that's a product of the new millenium, then this millenium is going to suck the royal root.

Best Use of CGI to Display Bug Creatures Fighting Jedi Knights: Attack of the Clones. (Upon close scrutiny, you'll find I had to create a category for that one, or it never would have made any Best Of lists. Whaddya gonna do?)

Best Piece of News: Historian Howard Zinn (A People's History of the United States of America--this link is to an audio reading, by the way) is joining forces with Ben Affleck and Matt Damon to do a television adaptation of Emma for HBO (based on Emma Goldman, a renowned American rebel and outspoken opponent of World War I who was exiled for her pains). Any day history becomes the driving force beneath a piece of popular media is a tallymark for us all, myself included. I understand Zinn wants to write screenplays (for Hollywood?)--be warned about Faulkner and Fitzgerald's issues (as if you have to warn a historian like Zinn about anything that already happened).