Extreme sword-and-sandal flicks suck

Myths have never truly been high art. Their age may lend a semblance of class to these stories of old but, in all honesty, they're just nice stories. And that's why they've survived for so long. Oral histories and blind poets spread these stories because they were cool. The stories are a witness to a long dead society, and by being passed on that society is still made full. Its character lives on despite the ruined columns and empty temples. Being mostly passed on through oral histories, these stories lend itself to alteration. No two collections of myths seem to have the exact same story. Yet, while the stories lend themselves to change, it's a bastardization to revamp these stories to fit the extreme attitudes of today.

Just one more insult in a subgenre of mediocrity.

The sword-and-sandal genre was largely forgotten until 2000's Gladiator. A brilliant and epic film, Gladiator is, to me, one of the great movies of the last decade. Gladiator is the kind of movie that lends itself to a type of grandeur rarely seen in today's cinema. It does not ask for this reverence, it instead earns it. Gladiator is one of the few films I can consider new classics (Shawshank Redemption can be another example). These are films that, ten years from now, we'll see them running on TCM (the pinnacle of film channels) instead of reruns on Spike.

Are you not entertained?

Less successful attempts at the genre include Alexander and Troy, two 2004 movies that tried to ape Gladiator's greatness yet missed out on its class. While they may be entertaining in their own right, they do nothing to benefit their genre or their audiences. Instead you get Brad Pitt with a ridiculous accent and Colin Farrell lost in a mess of a movie. After such overbloated failures the genre grew stagnant. There were no more attempts at strapping sandals on overpaid actors. That was until two years later when Zack Snyder took a Frank Miller graphic novel and tricked it out in a glorious fashion.

Glory and gory.

The transgressive sword-and-sandal subgenre first really emerged with the God of War video game series. With the idea still new and fresh, Kratos' bloody revenge on Greek mythology made for an excellent video game experience. A visceral hack-and-slash game that both recognized its shallowness and overcame it. A little after God of War rocked the Playstation 2, 300 premiered in theaters. Taking the idea of mythological epics to new heights, 300 took the fictional part of historical-fiction in an extreme direction.

Step one: Cast Vincent Regan (See Troy, 300 and Clash of the Titans).

And while critics were not huge fans of the film, testosterone fueled frat boys ate it up, if only for them to now have an idea for group Halloween costumes that let them wear a cape. While charming in its style, which has become somewhat of a cliche now, 300 because an archtype. Its slow-mo fight scenes and desire to prove its masculinity has been both spoofed and imitated since it came into theaters. But while 300 was a somewhat fresh take on Greek myth, it has since become stale.

Imitation is, after all, the sincerest form of flattery.

The art of mixing overacting, overblown special effects and thrashing guitar soundtracks have birthed Clash of the Titans and Immortals (Immortals was released last Friday on 11/11/11). Greek myth has lasted thousands of years to be made into a loud, cacophonous mess. The myths themselves are nothing but window-dressing for hollow messes. This isn't a debate about which Kraken was better rendered, the 1981 version or the 2010 version. Instead this is a question of overdoing the Kraken because you have a giant special effects budget and you just know the monster could use more teeth.

Need a Kraken? Why not Zoidberg?

So hopefully this extreme genre dies out. Because while it may of once been exciting, nothing gets boring faster than the extreme. It's just become its own cliche. It even has it's own television show with Starz's Spartacus series. Void of any real meaning, which is the complete opposite of the original myths, the movies are nothing more than quickly made popcorn flicks with tacked on 3-D to raise ticket prices. My judgement against Immortals is even more personal, considering the fact that Theseus was my favorite Greek hero. But then again, maybe I should just be happy that Immortals dethroned Puss in Boots in the box office.

Dreamworks isn't even trying anymore.

The state of the Western

To use a trite expression, the reports of the Western genre's death have been greatly exaggerated. Look no further than Hell on Wheels, the recent new premiere by AMC. Now, still in it's infancy, it is too early to say whether Hell on Wheels deserves to rank among the rest of the channel's award-winning line up. However, the fact that a major channel such as AMC is even gambling on a Western television show is commendable.

Tell me that doesn't look badass.

I admit, I used to turn my nose up to the genre. I considered the main characters in Westerns to be nothing but hicks and no good story can come of that. I was an appreciator of art and there was no way a cowboy story could constitute art. Luckily, I finally decided to sit down and watch John Wayne with my dad. While I may not be the biggest fan of The Duke, watching Westerns with my dad allowed me to get over my pretension. After getting acquainted with singing cowboys I moved on to the more exciting spaghetti Westerns. I could finally see what made Westerns so cool.

A film as epic as it is long.

You see, nothing represents Americana or the American identity more than the west. Manifest Destiny may have had some major shortcomings but the pioneer days were purely American. Fueled by the lust for gold and the racism against Native Americans, our Western expansion makes for a wonderful platform for a good story. From word of mouth stories, to Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, to dime store novels, stories of the west made up American folklore and entertainment. One early landmark film, The Great Train Robbery, was by the very definition a Western.

A film as epic as it is short.

While the heyday of the genre is over with that doesn't mean Westerns are completely dead. Hollywood just needs to put trust in the genre again. By trying to mix the storyline with other genres, like in Wild Wild West or Cowboys & Aliens, they are taking away from what makes a pure Western so compelling. Films like True Grit, 3:10 to Yuma and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (one of the most underrated movies of the last decade) prove that modern day Westerns can be incredibly engaging. The Proposition, one of the best Westerns in recent memory, doesn't even take place in America. Instead it transposes itself to the Australian Outback and, despite the location, shows everything that can be done right with the genre.

Rule: If Nick Cave writes the soundtrack it's probably good.

Westerns are the perfect way to examine the darkness of man. Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy may be a Western but it's also the most brutal examination of the human spirit since Joseph Conrad. Even comics books can be an excellent home for the Western genre. Don't let the 2010 flop fool you, Jonah Hex is an awesome comic book character. The movie producers just didn't trust the character enough, resulting in the 81 minute cinematic mess.

Jonah Hex volume 3 was amazing.

So now that Hell on Wheels has premiered, maybe the genre can finally be down right. And, while Deadwood already attempted, the fact that it's on cable and not a channel like HBO is victory enough. AMC has had a pretty good track record so far, let's hope Hell on Wheels is just a continuation of that. Because the Western genre deserves a victory, if only to prove its relevance.

Forget the 5th of November

It really is strange how some things catch on. V for Vendetta was a decent hit in the box office, making $130 million. But with it's semi-modest success, V has made a peculiar impact on society. Now every Nov. 5, fans make sure that nobody forgets the 5th. But while Guy Fawkes Night has had a royalist theme for hundreds of years, misinformed fans and pseudo-intellectuals are shaping Guy Fawkes Night into their own kind of celebration. A celebration that just rings false in every way.

I'm starting to get sick of this face.

Produced by the Wachowskis, 2006's V for Vendetta was a nicely watered down revolutionist's dream. In an effort to make it more appealing and easier to swallow for general audiences, the original graphic novel was watered down to be popular but edgy enough to sell V masks. It's no wonder Alan Moore distrusts film adaptations so much. Each attempt studios have had with his work has just fallen with a dud. Instead of a gripping world of gray, the film offers the same jackbooted thugs that every other Orwellian film offers. Now that's nothing against Orwellian stories. I personally love dystopian stories. The difference with the V film is that it could have been so much more of a statement. Plus I loved the original graphic novel before the movie was made.

I liked V before he was popular.

Now, every Nov. 5, people feel the need to post about V on Facebook. These people need to realize that V is not an actual person. He is a fictional person, not a revolutionary to be idolized. The original V character in the graphic novel was practically a psychopath, something far from a role model. And those that use Guy Fawkes Night for their own futon revolutionary ideas miss the whole original point of Guy Fawkes Night. It's not a celebration of revolutionaries, it's the opposite. What they are celebrating every year on that night is the Gunpowder Plot failing and Fawkes' execution. That's why they collect a "penny for the Guy" and burn his effigy. But what was originally an inspired bit of irony by Alan Moore has led to a mass misinterpretation by fanboys. It's like if British people started celebrating Thanksgiving, but from the Native American's point of view.

The real Guy Fawkes wasn't a revolutionary, he was just Catholic.

There is no greater perpetrator of this bastardization of tradition than Anonymous, the hacker collective. When not found trolling around the 4chan website, these hackers fashion themselves as revolutionaries. By using their computer skills and love of wearing V masks, Anonymous hope to further whatever agenda they come up with on 4chan to bully anyone they don't like into submission. While they do pick some nice targets, such as Scientology, every /b/ board member I've met has been nothing more than a socially inept jerk. This may be a complete generalization but, unlike most that are against Anonymous, I've actually been around them. It all happened my senior year of high school when I was in Philadelphia.

They're not revolutionaries, they're just brats.

We were in the middle of a Philly adventure, taking pictures in front of the LOVE sign, when we noticed a large group of people amassing in front of City Hall. My friends and I, bored and curious, decided to walk over. Most were wearing V for Vendetta masks, some were decked out in cosplay like outfits. In our boredom and hoping we could get a cool V mask as well, we followed the protest. Turns out a Scientology Temple was going to be put in Philly and the local Anons decided to do something about it. While using their right to protest is commendable, hearing them talk just ruined it for me. Those that were properly informed on the subject seemed to of gotten all their information from South Park episodes. The rest appeared to just like being in a group and wearing masks. Their supposed biggest strength, their anonymity, instead turns them into faceless stormtroopers. Indiscernible from their brethren, they just seemed to enjoy joining a faceless bully organization.

Pictured: Not me (I was holding the camera).

I have no faith in Anonymous or anyone that hides behind a V mask. I'm not demonizing Anonymous like most news organizations. I just see them for what they are, confused kids who just want to do something to change the world. And while V might of had a point when he talked about the importance of symbols and ideas, hiding behind a V mask has just become trite. Statements shouldn't be made with mass market Halloween masks. And besides, as previously stated, V was a fictional character who wasn't even that much of a hero to begin with. So please, let us forget the 5th of November. Repeating the poem in a status every year is just childish.

Disney's money machine and Lion King 3-D reigning at the box office

Update: With the success of Lion King 3-D, Disney now plans on releasing more 3-D versions of classics. This further proves that Disney will do anything for money.

When children think of Disney they picture a magical land where their favorite movies are born and, if they are lucky, one day they can travel to Florida and share in the wonderful world of Disney. As we get older and more cynical, Disney is no longer a magical kingdom. Though the cursive in The Walt Disney Company's logo is cute, the company itself is one of the most ruthless around. After all, while it wasn't Disney's idea to kill Bambi's mom, they did decide to whore out the story further with a direct-to-video sequel.

With Patrick Stewart voicing Bambi's father.

The thing of it is, Disney will do anything for money. The very idea of the Disney Vault is just used to create a false sense of urgency for their movies. Not only do they try to make money with their "limited time" DVD releases, they also butcher those classics with direct-to-video sequels (much like the aforementioned Bambi sequel). Again you can't fault a business for making money but the cognitive dissonance between the fluffy Mickey Mouse doll you have and the sweatshops used to make it cheap is astounding.

Note: I do not actually know if Disney uses sweatshops. It was only mentioned for dramatic effect.

I still enjoy Disney movies though. They are charming and enjoyable and we all grew up with them. And there is no movie that represents our generation of Disney movies than The Lion King. Out of all the movies during the Disney Renaissance (lasting from 1989-1999), Lion King was the most appealing to everyone and had the most to say. As a dude, I didn't want to watch singing princesses. But lions are badass. And not just any lions but lions that sound like Jeremy Irons and Darth Vader.

And Matthew Broderick, in his only good role other than Ferris Bueller.

Even with two direct-to-video sequels, a television show based on Timon and Pumbaa's adventures, an award-winning Broadway play, a ridiculously hard Sega Genesis game and countless Lion King scented hand soaps, the film still had class. Lion King is untouchable. Even with 3-D being the soulless, shallow cash grab that it is, Lion King 3-D still sounded amazing. So amazing that I am legitimately disappointed in myself I missed seeing it in theaters.

The Circle of Life alone would of been mind blowing in 3-D (and it would make an excellent alarm clock ring).

Everybody else must of thought so too. In the two weeks that Lion King 3-D was in theaters, it made over $100 million dollars (meaning it made twice as much as Conan the Barbarian). Lion King owned the two weeks it was in theaters and denied Moneyball a number one opening spot. While the inflated price of 3-D tickets could be taken in to factor most 3-D movies' success, the numbers don't reflect that in this instance. The box office was such a slaughter that it proves the release wasn't just a marketing ploy but an event.

See the word sex in glorious 3-D.

Disney is a company fueled by timelessness. It's the only reason they have survived for so long on the same intellectual property. Even Tomorrowland, their amusement park view of the future has a certain timelessness. Lion King, even though it was only released in 1994, is imbued with that very same trait. It was an instant classic that spoke to everyone that watched it. And hopefully, with this much needed success of Lion King's re-release, Disney finds that timelessness again.

Timelessness is sometimes confused with racism.

Aside from Princess and the Frog (which seems to of been made more for selling African-American princess dolls), Disney's animation showing has been incredibly weak. Every movie released since the new millennium has been incredibly forgettable and devoid of the Disney charm. They have depended on Pixar for making new classics ever since but with the release of Cars 2, Pixar has lost some of its luster.

Technically a success, but at what cost?

Hopefully Lion King's success spurs Disney to go back to what they do best, repackage previously existing material and making it appealing to kids. I say this with all the love I can but if The Brothers Grimm could sue Disney they would be rich. Disney's success is built off already existing properties. Even Mickey Mouse is based of Oswald the Rabbit. And they still defend their properties with such ruthlessness they they sued a daycare for a mural they painted of some characters.

South Park may have had a point after all.

Even Lion King isn't bulletproof. Story influences for Lion King range from tribal epics, the Bible and even Shakespeare. One influence that you might not hear is Kimba the White Lion, a Japanese anime series from the 60s. Shots from both movies and some names have been compared and, while some points may be nit-picky, the Kimba people definitely have a point. But all the same, I don't let that give Lion King a black eye. Because Lion King is one of my favorite Disney movies.

Still pretty fishy though.

Bad marketing and the Straw Dogs remake

Dustin Hoffman owned the '70s. Before Ishtar and Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium he starred in films like The Graduate, Midnight Cowboy, Little Big Man, Lenny, All the President's Men, Marathon Man and Kramer vs. Kramer. Any actor would be proud to have their name attached to any of these flicks, yet in 12 years Hoffman made some of the best movies during the New Hollywood Era. A huge accomplishment for somebody once voted "least likely to succeed" in acting school. Really makes you rethink those high school superlatives, eh?

His school obviously didn't have a "most likely to play a badass Captain Hook" superlative.

Released in 1971, Straw Dogs was one such classic. A violent, challenging film, Straw Dogs was released during a time where realistic violence was just hitting the screen. Gangsters and cowboys were always getting shot, but it never went past any emotion than "point the gun at the bad-guy-wearing-black." Hoffman, defending himself and his wife against a group of sociopath, British rednecks made the perfect forum for questions about human nature, gender roles and barbaric instinct. Though a cult film, it even managed to remain remembered after being released the same year as Clockwork Orange, The French Connection and Dirty Harry.

Does he have a unibrow in this poster?

The movie remains just as shocking and impacting as it did in 1971. So, since there is no reason to remake such a film, Hollywood has went along and decided to release a Straw Dogs remake set to premiere this Friday. And since I haven't seen it yet (until I go to sleep, today is still technically Thursday) I can't judge how the remake holds up. Going by the trailer however, this remake seems to of lost all the class and esteem of the original.

Even the poster loses a bit of subtlety.

I have no problem with them moving the setting to the South. I have no problem with Cyclops starring in Hoffman's role (I've always kind of liked James Marsden). It's the general tone that the trailers seem to convey that throws me off. The original is a psychological thriller that explodes in violence towards the end. The remake, though I have not seen it yet, seems to take its tone from more contemporary horror films. Instead of a slow, simmering boil we instead have The Strangers without masks.

The masks being the best part of The Strangers.

Maybe the marketing team are hoping to capitalize on the first fall thriller, but even though the original was violent it was far from today's torture porn. The original had something to say. The remake just seems hollow and if it does try and attempt to say anything it will most likely be obvious and heavy-handed. A message placed on a silver platter instead of one that challenges us. Plus, while Alexander Skarsgard will most likely put in a wonderful performance, the trailer obviously uses him to entice True Blood fans into living out their fantasies of Eric Northman and his impetuousness.

Even when successful, stunt-casting is still stunt casting.

The remake will most likely prove to be nothing but what the title suggests, a form without substance.If it does suprise anyone with its depth, it's only because the marketing failed so completely. Instead of the controversial, raw and engaging original, it will most likely be another movie lost in the fall shuffle. Another bland thriller that, despite its attempt, has nothing new to say or show. That is, of course, the nature of remakes.

The 9/11 Post

I originally wanted to avoid writing this post. While yes, I was as affected by 9/11 just as much as everyone else, I didn't feel worthy enough to really comment on it. Being in South Jersey, I'm just insulated enough from New York to be spared a lot of the heartache. I am lucky enough to not really know anyone that died in the attack and my horizon line was not inundated with smoke and ash. But being a member of the generation that grew up watching the towers fall down, I can't help but still feel like a member of the grieving nation.

None of us have to be reminded.

I already told my 9/11 story in my Osama post. I was only 11 years old when it happened but I remember being at soccer practice that evening and we couldn't even bring our 6th grade selves to do warm up sprints. With the 24/7 news machine working, we as a population were reminded of the tragedy repeatedly. From that blood lust came war that we are still in today. I'm not here to debate the war, I'm only commenting on the fact that lives are still being affected by one morning ten years ago.

One respectable reflection on 9/11 has been Rescue Me. Although the show lost some focus during its seven seasons, Denis Leary showed real respect and admiration to the fire fighters and other people affected by 9/11. It's not like Remember Me, a 2010 Robert Pattinson vehicle that aspired to be like every other Nicolas Sparks story made for teenage girls. Instead, using the World Trade Center attacks as a plot device, it ended up reeking of explotation just to remind 16-year-old girls to fall in love with Pattinson.

Pattinson should stick with the Twilight movies.

For the most part, Hollywood has yet to touch on 9/11. The only two theatrical films dealing with attack are World Trade Center and Flight 93. This is for good reason. None of us need to be reminded. It's too early for dramatizations because the effects are still being felt by a whole population. We don't need Oliver Stone telling us how to feel because it is still fresh in our minds. No reminders needed, television documentaries and memories are enough. To make a movie about it now only screams of propaganda or excessive patriotism.

Sadly, an unnecessary film.

It's ironic that Stone was the one to make an unnecessary World Trade Center movie, because he was the one to really kick off movies made about Vietnam. One of the first real Vietnam movies was The Green Berets starring John Wayne. Released in 1968, the same year that both the Tet offensive happened and Walter Cronkite himself bemoaned Vietnam, The Green Berets tried its best to rally support for the already exhausting war. But even The Duke couldn't help rally a nation and, aside from Apocalypse Now in 1979 (a very noteworthy film), Vietnam wouldn't be touched again until 1986 with Platoon. Eleven years after the fall of Saigon, Stone told the story of his own experience during the conflict. Unflinching and dramatic, Platoon won four Academy Awards, including Best Picture. The following year saw the release of Full Metal Jacket and Hamburger Hill and in 1989, Stone returned to Vietnam with Born on the Fourth of July.

I'd mention 1989's Casualties of War but I hate Sean Penn too much to go in depth.

Just like with Vietnam, it will take a while to properly reflect on 9/11. It's too soon to really see what the effect is because we are still seeing the effect everyday. There is no proper epilogue yet to the story. While Bin Laden's death did help closure, it's not enough. Ten years from now we'll see real movies about a post-9/11 world that's not just about paranoia or patriotism. Because by then the dust from the towers will finally settle and the ones that grew up with the disaster will finally get their say on the matter. I am of course talking about my generation.

Just don't call us Millenials, I hate that phrase.

People my age may seem jaded by the 2001 attacks, but we've all reacted to it in different ways. Some have become conspiracy theorists or socialists. Others have followed Fox News and Sarah Palin. There is one factor I've noticed with everyone though. We've all acquired this kind of post-modern patriotism. It's not simply about humming Yankee Doodle Dandy anymore. For people my age, America Fuck Yeah (excuse the profanity) has become the rally call. From the creators of South Park, America Fuck Yeah was written for the puppet comedy Team America: World Police. And even if that movie falls into obscurity, the song will live on as a new anthem for current college-aged kids. Although a satire of jingoistic tunes, it is earnest enough to speak to us. And it has a sense of humor that cannot be found in Tobey Keith songs.

Profane but effective.

So, even though it is the tenth year anniversary of 9/11, it is still just one more day in a constant state of mourning that many feel. But we continue on and, floor by floor, we defiantly build in ground zero. One day we will all finally be able to look back at this period instead of feeling trapped within it.

Kismet and on demand

Defining the divine. I do not consider myself a religious man. When asked, I define my faith as lapsed Catholic at best. My opinion on faith and destiny relies purely on how much sleep I've had that day or if I'm having any luck with women (currently the answer to both of those questions is no). But sometimes the universe surprises me. Sometimes little hints pop through my day that relieves my existential burden. Being a movie fan, it's only characteristic of my existence that these hints mostly involve movies.

The words universe, fate and God are all interchangeable in this post.

It doesn't always happen, but sometimes the universe provides me with exactly what I want and need. It's never any unimportant things like world peace or a bag full of non-sequential hundred dollar bills, but the smaller things that have so much for resonance than the bigger things. Much like, for me, the miracle of what's on television. We've all noticed it before in some respect. When we have just the exact amount of change for our food order or when we get a text message just when we need one. The world is full of coincidence, and no coincidence is ever too small to go unnoticed.

Serendipity: not just a John Cusack flick.

A month ago I was struck with the desire to watch About a Boy. Technically in chick-flick territory, About a Boy is a guilty pleasure propelled by Hugh Grant's rakish charm and a soundtrack by Badly Drawn Boy. Yes, I do own the DVD but I was too lazy to dig it out of my movie pile. Flipping through channels on my only day off that week, there it was, inexplicably on Showtime. It was just what I wanted, hand delivered to me. Even though it's just a romantic comedy, About a Boy makes you happy despite all the saccharine and cliches. A few days later I found another movie I not just wanted to see but also needed to see.

I like this movie, don't judge me.

I've always wanted to see the movie Marty. Written by the irreplaceable Paddy Chayefsky, Marty is about a butcher played by Ernest Borgnine that's unlucky in love and who has lost control of his life. Over the course of 94 minutes and a date with a mousey girl, Marty decides to take initiative and make himself happy. It's a simple yet very effective film that I've been wanted to watch for awhile and just when I needed it the most, I found it on demand under Turner Classic Movies.

TCM has always been there for me.

Marty is the kind of movie that motivates you to get out of your rut, and that's just the kind of sentiment I needed to hear at the time. More cynical people would call my outlook superstitious or immature. It takes somebody very self centered to think the stars align for them. While I can be described as self-centered a bit (one needs to be to write a blog), I can't help but smile whenever something small goes my way. Because sometimes those small things mean more than the big ones. And even something as simple as what's on television can mean a lot to somebody. That or, it saves me from having to look for the DVD.

Linkin Park: The official band of Transformers

I previously stated how my friends and I all grew up loving Taking Back Sunday. Well, before TBS there was another band we all enjoyed. While many may deny their love of the band, everyone I know liked Linkin Park at some point. Anyone that says they didn't like them is lying. It was impossible not to when they came out in 2000. While their relevancy may have diminished in the years since Hybrid Theory, their debut album, the band has reinvented themselves. They have since become the official/unofficial band of the Transformers film series. I'll let you decide whether that's selling out or not.

You can't sell out with holes in your ears, it's a proven fact.

Linkin Park erupted onto the scene with Hybrid Theory. While critics met the album lukewarmly, pre-teens bought it up. Linkin Park took the nu metal sound that saturated the modern rock stations and made it whiny enough to be identifiable. Instead of Fred Durst rapping about nookie or Korn, well, just being Korn, Linkin Park packaged the sound into an easily digestible morsel. Korn was for people that wore JNCO jeans and you didn't talk to in the hallway. Linkin Park was for everyone.

And everyone bought it.

Anyone that claims to like some form of rock listened to and probably owned Hybrid Theory. It was too ubiquitous to escape from. They owned the radio. And their music videos were interesting and numerous enough to guarantee MTV airplay. They even partied with Jay-Z. In the two albums they were relevant with, Hybrid Theory and Meteora, they had 10 singles between them. That's a whole album's worth of songs for 13-year-old me to rock out too. And rock out I did.

Sometimes the CD player would skip, I rocked out so much.

Linkin Park was there for my middle school angst. I had my first girlfriend in 7th grade. The only time we ever spoke was when I asked her to date me. A week and a few instant message conversations later and we were through. She dumped me. In my first experience with heartbreak, I turned to Linkin Park. They understood my pain and frustration. They sang the feelings that I was too young to properly express. In the End was especially comforting. They really felt my Mickey-Mouse pain.

One of my favorite descriptions for childish things is referring to it as Mickey Mouse.

I don't mean to show Linkin Park any disrespect, because I really did like them a lot when I was in middle school. I even did a class project on them once. I'm still sore about never getting my copy of Meteora back from my friend from down the street. But, after Hybrid Theory and Meteora, Linkin Park faded out. The rap/rock combination was no longer cool. While defining them as rap/rock didn't quite do them justice, they were still pigeon-holed in that genre. And when the genre lost relevancy, so did Linkin Park. I almost forgot about them until Transformers came out in 2007. All three movies have been major blockbusters, and Linkin Park supplied the big single for each iteration.

Must be a pretty sweet gig.

Linkin Park's future is now linked with Transformers, which isn't too bad for them. The first two Transformers, while not loved critically, made more than a billion worldwide. Transformers: Dark of the Moon, released June 29, is poised to be another megahit. And though it is horrible to say, I don't believe Linkin Park have sold out by being linked with Michael Bay's extravaganza. Because, before 2007, Linkin Park were completely forgotten. Bay's trilogy resurrected the band and allowed them to be heard by a new generation of whiny preteens. And that isn't so bad.

Arguably their best song and, in my opinion, the one that has had the most staying power.

The first Transformers was a remake of Small Soldiers

A boy, lost in suburbia, gets mixed up in a rivalry between two groups of inanimate objects. The boy helps the good-guys win and in the end wins the affection of the girl of his dreams. While yes, this plot could describe most movies directed towards the male 13-18 demographic, there are two movies in particular I want to talk about. To me, 2007's Transformers and 1998's Small Soldiers are the same basic movie.

Bear with me, dear reader.

Comparing basic plot points, both movies are basically identical. Both involve two lines of toys battling it out. While yes, a car is a much bigger toy than an action figure, a car is basically and adult's toy. Grown men and children are both passionate and protective over their toys. And the fact that Transformers is based off of a toy line helps my argument further. While Transformers has Autobots and Decepticons, Small Soldiers has Commando Elite and Gorgonites. Basically, Transformers is just Small Soldiers on a much larger scale.

The Autobot logo has a five-head.

It is true that the Transformers franchise has been around since the 80s, but remember that I'm not talking about the franchise itself but just the first movie. Both movies involve awkward teenagers thrust into action by inanimate objects. And getting the girl in the end helps a lot too. And while I've always had a crush on Kirsten Dunst since her Spider-Man days, it's hard not to leer at Megan Fox's, now iconic, engine checking.

[Insert dip-stick joke here]

Probably the most interesting reason for the comparison, to me, is Kevin Dunn. Dunn plays the bumbling father in both movies. And the roles are pretty much interchangeable. Now yes, there are only so many ways to play a frazzled father, but to me this is the main link to both movies. Transformers may very well be a hidden remake to the modest 1998 hit. Or maybe even a quasi-sequel. Maybe Dunn's character secretly had two families.

It's always the people you least expect.

Really, in the end, I just want more people to know about Small Soldiers. Because I remember enjoying it as a kid. It's like Transformers enough to be noteworthy. Small Soldiers is even, arguably, better than Transformers. Both are dumb popcorn movies but Small Soldiers has more heart. Transformers is just a big car commercial. And Small Soldiers was Phil Hartman's last film. That's reason enough to check it out.

Father's Day special: The best fathers in film

Fathers have it hard in Hollywood. So many films not only include but hinge upon daddy-issues (like every movie Spielberg has made). Even the coolest dads in film usually start out as dicks. They don't truly redeem themselves until the third act. Just look at Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (my personal favorite of the trilogy). Sean Connery is enjoyable to watch as Henry Sr., Indy's absentee father. Yes, they bonded during their crusade for the Holy Grail, but before that their relationship was defined by thirty years of horrible parenting. Fathers in movies are either absent, neglectful or trying to force you to kill a man with an ax

I can't be the only person that remembers the movie Frailty.

In honor of Father's Day, I have assembled the top five fathers in film. I'm sure I'm forgetting a few in there, but for now this list will do.

5. Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) in Taken

Liam Neeson takes this spot through sheer badassery. Not only does he save his daughter from being trapped in a sex ring, but he also sets her up to meet her favorite pop star. Neeson's character may not be the greatest of fathers, but it's hard not to see a one-man war against France as a dedication of his love. Plus did I mention Neeson is awesome is everything he's in?

4. Daddy Warbucks (Albert Finney and Victor Garber) in Annie

Though he is not Annie's real father, Oliver "Daddy" Warbucks proves that even red-heads need love. And that is a valuable lesson to take home with you. The gruff millionaire plucks the orphan out of the drudgery of New York's worst orphanage and finally gives her what she's dreamed of all her life: family. Family and lots of money during the depression. While everyone else was in line for bread she was kicking it with FDR (figuratively kicking it of course, damn polio).

Why does nobody have eyes?

3. Ted Kramer (Dustin Hoffman) in Kramer vs. Kramer

In the beginning of the movie, Ted Kramer wasn't the best husband or dad in the world. Kramer belonged to the archetype of "workaholic dad" that so many movies abuse for drama. After his wife leaves him, Kramer is forced to finally learn to be a dad. Kramer vs. Kramer could of easily been a pedestrian film about parenthood. But thanks to Dustin Hoffman's vulnerability in the role, the whole film is elevated. And, although I previously decried absentee fathers in my intro, Kramer learned how to be a real dad for his son before it was too late. And though I will forever be angry at this film for beating out Apocalypse Now and Being There at the Oscars, it's still a really good film.

2. Furious Styles (Laurence Fishburne) in Boyz n the Hood

Boyz n the Hood will always be one of my favorites. It's a perfect coming of age film about three teenagers who name South Central home. And, out of any coming of age flick, Boyz n the Hood is the one that stresses the importance of being a father more than any other. In the end, Tre is the only one to escape the neighborhood violence. This is in no small part thanks to his father raising him. Furious Styles not only raises Tre but shows him how to be a man. Laurence Fishburne plays the role exceptionally well, truly proving that any fool can be a father but it takes a man to be a dad. Furious is the Atticus Finch of the hood. Speaking of which...

1. Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck) in To Kill a Mockingbird

Gregory Peck may be seen as the poor man's Cary Grant, but Peck has one thing that Grant never won: an Oscar. Not just an Oscar, but an Oscar for one of the greatest characters in, not just film or literature, but history. Atticus Finch is the man that all men should model their lives after. He's gentle, kind, fair and honorable. A widower, Finch is left to raise his two kids on his own. But even with the loss of his wife and the case of his life, Atticus still finds the time to be a wonderful father to Scout and Jem. He never condescends to his children nor does he miss an opportunity to impress upon them how to be a human being. He's a hero to lawyers everywhere, AFI's greatest hero in American film and my choice for best father in film. While I may have had some trouble thinking of the other four, this choice was just too easy.

Happy Father's Day

And apologies to Henry Jones, Sr.