Inception (Review/Essay)

Warning: This post contains spoilers for multiple movies.

I've put off writing this review because I think this movie is causing a lot of knee-jerk reactions. Whether from Nolan disciples who have been slavering for it for a year and a half loving every second, or people on the other side of the aisle who either genuinely hate the director or are just being anti-populist. Personally, when the movie was announced, my reaction was "wow, what a cast, but I'm not all that fussed." Then the trailer came out and my reaction was "wow, what a cast, but I'm not all that fussed." Then I saw the movie and my reaction was "wow, what a cast, but I'm not all that fussed." After letting it stew and thinking about it for a few days, that opinion hasn't changed. I'm not rushing out to see it again, nor will I, nor am I picketing the movie theater because I hate it so much. I have good things to say about the movie, and negative things, and I present them here.

Summer Movies (Essay) (Discussion)

On the cusp of endless cycles of boogie-boarding shorts and bonfires, the movie industry's offerings this summer look to provide on the same level as previous years, with 3D and hopefully a new interest in catching quality up with quantity as the exceptions.

Familiar faces represent the season’s offerings for comedy fans. Writer/director Nicholas Stoller must have liked he and Jason Segel’s enormously sub-par 2008 film Forgetting Sarah Marshall so much that it deserved a spin-off. Get Him to the Greek stars Jonah Hill as a hopeful record label intern assigned to make sure rock god Aldous Snow (Russell Brand) arrives on time to a show at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles.

Their debauchery-laden journey must survive a series of hiccups before coming to a successful close, no doubt providing the flavor of comedy popularized by Judd Apatow (who produced the film) and his merry band of offspring. The film is due out June 4.

V-Day Movies (Essay)

Here is a list of the best movies for V-Day. ...So if you missed it last Sunday, this could get you out of a jam.

In no specific order...

1. Love Actually (2003): Although set during Christmas fever, this film provides a handful of love snapshots that pack an emotional punch heavy enough to have you nuzzling closer to your significant other, mustering up the courage to spill your heart out in front of your crush, or both!

2. Lars and the Real Girl (2007): A good V-Day movie with Ryan Gosling that isn't The Notebook? Yes. This film is touching and genuine, and will make you jealous of a mannequin.

Best of the Decade (Jake) (cont.) (Essay)

3. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004): Contrary to what history books might tell you, some of the greatest films are also the most modest. Having only a brilliantly written screenplay by the highly celebrated Charlie Kaufman and the direction of Frenchman Michel Gondry to its name, Eternal Sunshine looked to change our minds about hurt feelings and serendipitous (or defeatist?) lovers and managed to become one of the best films of the decade. Its topsy-turvy, discombobulated approach made the film hard to follow through its first run; like one of those patterned images that relates a 3D object in time, if you tried too hard to see this film, you never could. The story of a man, Joel Barish, portrayed marvelously by the still untapped Jim Carrey, who decides to erase all of his memories of his ex-lover, Eternal Sunshine is a showcase of masterful editing, as the film weaves in and out of Joel's past, memories being unburied and erased with Joel fighting it all the while. Jon Brion's original score was sullen and deep, accenting the film's roller-coaster of emotions perfectly when garnished with tracks from The Polyphonic Spree. Eternal Sunshine was not an epic by all means, nor did it have epic success at the box office, but almost six years later it remains to be an unforgettable example of great film. Why this film was important: Unique in its style and approach, this film is one of the greatest portrayals of love and hurt exhibited in movie history.

Best of the Decade (Jake) (cont.) (Essay)

5. The Departed (2006): Just because it's predictable list material does not mean it should go uncredited. My favorite Scorsese film to date, The Departed was brilliantly written and played, as suspenseful as it was hilarious. This film, in my eyes, an instant classic, deserves to be studied alongside Chinatown and The Godfather as one of thee most layered, even if preposterously so, crime thrillers in cinema. Why this film was important: Won Scorsese the Oscar, finally; gave a nod to Hong Kong cinema (the film was based off of Alan Mak and Wai-keung Lau's 2002 Infernal Affairs) in a huge way.

Best of the Decade (Jake) (cont.) (Essay)

NOTE: Screw the two at a time.

8. Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance (2002): The first film in Chan-wook Park's “revenge trilogy” (best known for its second film, Old Boy), Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance was a powerful representation of vengeance in its most cruel and unfortunate state. The satisfying and invigorating vengeance of Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill series was no where to be found, as Park blended right and wrong into one and pitted his characters against one another despite the good intentions each of them lived by. When his dying sister needs a kidney transplant, deaf Ryu resorts to kidnapping his former boss's daughter and holding her for ransom; a series of misfortunes and heinous retributions ensue. The quiet of the film played key to the intensity of Mr. Vengeance, whose tragic story was alone enough to make it one of the best of the decade. Park's trilogy turned the world's gaze toward Korean film, and Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance was a leading example of the amazing talent going little noticed in the region. Why this film was important: For me, Park's film solidified my yearning for foreign film, setting in motion a desire to experience further unknowns, little-knowns or distant films. For everyone else, it was simply one of the most affecting films of the decade.

Best of the Decade (Nate) (Essay)

Note: Like my sibling’s list, mine is made up of representatives of genre, mainly to avoid one genre taking up the whole list. My eye also tends to center on technical breakthroughs and life-changing event films. I’ve also tried to stay away from films that everyone has on their lists, and I’ve succeeded for the most part.

10. Wet Hot American Summer (David Wain, 2001)


David Wain’s first feature, is, at first glance, a normal comedy. But on second (and third, fourth, and fifth), it’s actually the best comedy of the decade and up there on the all-time list. Wall-to-wall wackyness is all there is to be found, with new jokes and gags to be discovered on every viewing. Unlike many many other comedies, there’s no relationship B-story drama or anything else getting in the way of the funny. There’s also not much motivation behind the jokes other than they’re funny. What this movie did for me on a personal level was negate everything I learned in film school (everything in movies has meaning), and inspire me to make movies in the same vain. This concept, only-there-for-funny, unfortunately went over the heads of my film professors.

Best of the Decade (Jake) (Essay)

NOTE: The following list is an effort to quantify and order the films of the recent decade. Most of the films I have chosen are figure-heads of their respective "type," but I did not disregard a film merely because another of its "kind" already made the list (at least not on more than one occasion). Half of this list is predictable and, yes, down-right boring: at this point we know what was good and what deserves recognition at least if its just that, a nod of the head. However, I've chosen the few that stand out and emphasized them in an attempt to keep things at least somewhat interesting. I will be posting my top 10 two at a time for the next few days, followed by some notable mentions and other random awards of the decade. Enjoy.

10. Children of Men (2006): Alfonso Cuarón's modern sci-fi masterpiece was a shock to the system, a social justice film as subversive in its technique as it was open about its message. Why this film was important: Re-educated us on how to make a sci-fi film: one without monsters or aliens or futuristic weaponry or psychological gimmicks; showcased for folks like Spielberg that technique and story are at the heart of making quality, AND entertaining, cinema.

Reitman Interview (cont.) (Essay)

On casting for Up in the Air:

I asked Reitman if he casted people like Jason Bateman (again) and Zach Galifianakis in order to draw the college-humor crowd, in order to expand his viewership beyond white-haired women in shalls. To this Reitman reacted strongly, saying he had casted Galifianakis long before The Hangover debuted, long before college-America knew of the actor/comedian. He said he likes writing for/casting people he genuinely likes and genuinely wants to work for, and expressed his frustration with the archetype that was created for Galifianakis, one that he does not fit in Up in the Air. It seemed he was saying Galifianakis' assumed character type was a detriment to his part in Up in the Air, rather than something positive he purposely set out to accomplish (as I had thought). Where audiences may expect Galifianakis to “say something stupid,” he said, they are instead met with a more or less sympathetic and straightforward character [who is only a part of the film for 60 seconds or so—JB].

The Star Trek Movies: An Undertaking, Part 1 (Essay)

Star Trek: the final nerd frontier. These are the-okay enough of that, you can see where this is going.

Yes, Star Trek. That quintessential nerd franchise. When most people imagine a stereotypical nerd, I’m betting a short, stout, bespectacled figure dressed in a puke green uniform standing in line with others much like him waiting for an autograph from the guy who stood third from the right in that one shot from that one episode he wasn’t even alive to see in its original run. I am not one of these people. Yes, when I was younger I enjoyed “The Next Generation” a great deal, and it probably had something to do with Generations being released when I was ten. But I’m not a Trekkie by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve only ever seen one episode of the original series. Which is why I’m not talking about the series, I’ll be talking about the movies. Specifically the movies based on the original series. That is, the first through the sixth and the eleventh, which was released in May this year. This will be an outsider’s perspective. I don’t pretend to know everything about them. After all, I’ve never seen the series upon which they were based. Nor have I read the books about the lore or studied the blueprints of the ships. I’ve seen the movies. Things were revealed to me I didn’t previously know and I’d like to discuss it. So let’s boldly go where many many many have gone before shall we?

Up in the Air and Jason Reitman (Essay)

NOTE: This is an article I wrote for my college newspaper after talking with Jason Reitman at the Grand Hotel in Minneapolis a few weeks back. Further, less formal/cohesive posts will soon follow detailing other things that came up in the interview I found interesting. My review of Up in the Air is also forthcoming.

For someone who makes films for a living, it might sound disconcerting that Jason Reitman finds no answers in the language of the big screen—only questions.

“I don't think there are answers,” Reitman said, his knack for philosophical discussion as apparent as it is in his films. “The only thing I'm fairly confident in is that life is infinitely complicated.”

Coming off of the success of cult comedy Thank You For Smoking and international film sweetheart Juno, Reitman's new picture, Up in the Air, which he both wrote and directed, aims to pose equally challenging questions about love, home, belonging and self in a similarly entertaining, non-aggressive, comical manner.

A story about a man who travels two-thirds of the year for his career, played by George Clooney, Up in the Air is as personal a film to Reitman as it could get.

“I really cherish my time in the air,” he said after rattling off more than two-dozen cities he's traveled to in promotion of the film.

Starting as a commercial director and transitioning into feature productions, he said he's always been accustomed to traveling, and that the detached, stringless lifestyle represented by the main character is something he can very much relate to.

Based off of a novel of the same name by Walter Kirn, Up in the Air is an adaptation that Reitman tried to keep as close to the original as the new medium would allow, taking into account the differences between the two.

John Ford's Unspoken Law (Essay)

WARNING: Very formal, Read at your own risk.

In John Ford's My Darling Clementine (1946), two forms of law exist: expressed law and implied law. Expressed law is governmental law, written law that formally dictates how society in the grandest sense should operate. Implied law, a less clear but more heavily respected and represented form of governance throughout Clementine, is treated differently by different people, but in general reflects an unspoken code of honor, one that may be upheld by vengeful and sometimes seemingly underhanded tactics.

The newly appointed marshal of Tombstone, Wyatt Earp, uses his form of implied law, which includes strong-arming and an eye-for-an-eye ideal, to exert Ford's sentimental view of justice over a city out of control. Earp's ironclad reverse-bullying technique employed in a scene opposite the Clanton brothers (00:31-00:36) and his treatment of Chihuahua, the sympathetic tramp, in an earlier scene (00:17-00:21) define the marshal's sense justice as inevitable and brutal, but personal and forgiving—the kind of justice that Ford maintains is the only answer to a world in conflict.

The Clanton family, a father and four sons, is depicted as a sinister group from an early point in the film. In the very first scene, father Clanton offers to buy Earp's cattle herd for what is expressed as a cheap offer, illustrating both his greed and willingness to swindle others. The tension between the Clantons and the marshal reaches a boiling point later in the film, when Earp goes on the hunt for a visiting actor, Granville Thorndyke, who has gone missing, and finds him shortly thereafter amongst the Clantons at a bar. The scene illustrates Earp's sense of implied law when it comes to violence. Violence, to him, is an instinctive means to solving disputes, and an especially necessary reaction to violence from another source. The only way in which to deal with thugs (i.e. the Clanton brothers) is to teach them with violence. As Earp moves to return the actor, one Clanton grabs Thorndyke and makes a move for his gun. Earp quickly smashes the man in the face with his pistol and shoots at a second Clanton who also reaches for his weapon. This decisive act of violence is committed with the utmost confidence and sense of righteousness, as if Earp already knew he was going to have to exert violent rule over this family.

Like Ford's angel of America, Earp was crafted with the perfect sense of the strict implied law—how to react when someone threatens you—which serves as a cure-all to what plagues society. As the tension settles, father Clanton offers a short apology, which Earp answers with, “Sure, I figured they were just having themselves some fun” (00:35). He then leaves, making no arrest or collecting no one's weapon, accepting in how justice has been served in his brutal display of violence. In Earp's actions, the film advocates for a sense of personality within the law, the idea that each crime is personal and must be dealt with between the involved parties, but mediated by someone with the perfect ideology of right and wrong. In this case, Earp decides best how to solve the problem as both marshal and as a personally effected party, resulting in the best way to cleanse the society of thugs: violence.

In how he deals with the trouble-making Chihuahua, Earp continues to define and enforce implied law, which, in its practice, is represented by the film as the best way (or at least the most effective way) to deliver the city from evil. Earp's willingness to act outside of expressed law to meet a justified end is, the film argues, what makes him fit to “save” society. When Chihuahua helps another man cheat in poker against Earp, the marshal drags her outside. Chihuahua refuses to listen to his threats and slaps him in the face, to which Earp responds by dunking her in a trough (00:20). Once again, Earp does not arrest her or even see that she returns home for the night, instead he reacts brashly and childishly, but he effectively shows her what kind of law he abides by and what he intends on doing to those who land on the other side of it. The personal vendetta he holds with those who break the law, especially when the case involves him personally, is most evident in this scene. It is this subjectivity in practicing the law—specifically in Earp's case alone—that the film advocates.

Without one who understands not only right from wrong, but more importantly, how to deal with those who do not know right from wrong, society is doomed. Earp's form of tough-love governance is the answer to cleansing the entire city, just as he soaks Chihuahua with no hesitation. What motivates Earp to treat Chihuahua in such a way is developed earlier in the scene, when she tries the marshal's character, first with flirtation and sex, then with a hidden threat, a suggestion through song that she knows about his missing cattle and slain brother (00:17). Earp, in his ability to resist both temptations and to recognize where justice needs to be righteously exacted (it is suggested that previous marshals have gone through the same test and failed), is the clear candidate for the city's savior and the model of civilization's (inside and outside the film) path to decency and goodness.

My Darling Clementine depicts Wyatt Earp as a man not above the law, but a man among “certain gifted persons in a society...who carry the law with them” (Mast and Kawin 302). His subjective view of how society should run, the film argues, is the only way in which evil can be detached from good, and disposed of accordingly. Whether it's by violence or mere unexpected recognition and coequal punishment, the film charges that the way Earp does away with wrongdoing is indeed our own solution—as citizens of today—to a happier, healthier, more united civilization.

Works Cited

Mast, Gerald, and Bruce Kawin. A Short History of the Movies. New York: Pearson Education, Inc., 2008.

My Darling Clementine. Dir. John Ford. Perf. Henry Fonda, Victor Mature, Cathy Downs and Linda Darnell. 1946. DVD. 20^th Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2007.

Taro the Dragon Boy (Essay)

(Tatsu no ko Tarô)

Released 1979 (Japan); January 31, 2006 (US DVD)

Studio: Toei Animation Company

Directed by: Kiriro Urayama, Peter Fernandez (English cut)

Sticking to the theme of lifelong favorites from my childhood, especially those that feature dragons, I thought Taro would be a most fitting, if not completely unknown, addition. Easily as hard to find as Flight of Dragons, Taro doesn’t even have a Wiki page, so I will have to use my limited knowledge of Japanese folklore if I want to go in depth explaining the stories behind the story.

I should point out I have never watched the original Japanese dub of the movie. Apparently the English cut is vastly different. It doesn’t change the story but apparently lots of the dialogue is changed and in the US version there’s a lot more songs (well, one song sung a few times) that I guess they don’t use in the original. The songs were one of the reasons I liked it so much and why it’s so memorable for me (unlike the previous two films, Taro has never left my memory). Someday I probably will watch the Japanese version, but will quickly go back to the American one shortly after. I’m keeping the magic of my childhood alive.


Taro is the story of a young boy who has been orphaned. He lives in a poor village in the mountains with his grandmother. The people of the village spend their days trying to grow millet in their infertile lands. “Grow a thousand grains from one, grown ten thousand grains from two,” is their mantra. Taro is a lazy boy, who, even though he’s young and strong, spends most of his days asleep rather than helping the community or playing with the other boys. This causes the boys to give Taro the nickname “dragon boy”. Why, I do not know. My guess is it was a rumor that grew out of control. A rumor, Taro learns, is true.

One day Taro asks his grandmother about his mother. She tells him that yes, he is the son of a dragon, and that his mother gave her eyes to feed him when he was a baby (to substitute for milk), and blinded, flew to a lake high in the mountains. Taro promptly vows to find his mother and sets out the next day to do just that.

As per usual in adventure films, Taro meets all kinds of amazing characters on his way. Aya is a girl from the neighboring mountain, who plays the flute beautifully. The Wizard Tengu (who appears sometimes in Japanese fairy tales), wrestles Taro and gives him the strength of ten men, something that comes in handy when he meets the Red and Black Demons. Taro also is briefly employed by a farmer woman, who claims a dragon lives in the pond by her house. When this is proven a lie, Taro takes his pay for his work. The woman laughs and offers him all he can carry, which turns out is the entire crop. Taro begins then to redeem himself by doling out portions of the rice crop to other poor villagers throughout the mountains.


Eventually Taro reaches the lake, and finds his mother in one of the most tearful reunions ever in film. He learns the full story of how she became a dragon in the first place (punishment for selfishness), which cements Taro’s good deeds as self-redeeming. But he wasn’t done thinking of the people of the valley. He notices the lake could be drained which would get water to all the people and make their lands more fertile and they wouldn’t be so poor and hungry. The film climaxes with Taro and his dragon mother draining the lake in epic fashion.

Now when it comes to family dynamics in film, the father-son relationship is probably the most often represented. There’s a fair amount of mother-daughter, and even a few father-daughter. But the one least represented is the mother-son relationship. This is probably a reason the movie is so important to me. My mom was stay-at-home until after my brother was born so I’d spend a lot of time with her, reading books, going to the park, and watching movies. Movies like Taro. And invariably I’d end up walking around singing the song and carried the “dragon boy” nickname around for a while. So that’s a reason I hold it so dearly.

Something else I noticed when watching it shortly after I bought the DVD. Taro, along with other animated films I grew up with, allowed me to accept pretty much anything fantastical without questioning it (in stories at least, because I recognize them as stories *cough* creation stories *cough*). For example, when Taro defeats the Black Demon, he frees a horse the demon had captive. Later in the movie, the horse can fly. I never thought twice about this until my dad was like, “oh, yeah, that makes sense, flying horse.” Well, Aya explains the horse has gotten its strength back and now is its normal self and can fly again. This is a perfect explanation in the realm of this story, and it never occurred to me at age 3, 13, or 23 to question it.


Taro was also the first anime I ever saw, so the seeds of that love were planted quite early. You may also have noticed how absolutely beautiful the artwork is in the movie. That I think is something amazing: it’s not an "A" movie quality-wise by pretty much any standards, yet the art is still gorgeous.

I don’t expect anyone will be clamoring to tell me this is one they watched years ago and forgot, so I will say that you should do yourself a favor and seek Taro out.

Chaplin and Keaton: Polarized Cinematic Technique (Essay)

NOTE: Very formal, read at your own risk.

The silent era of film history produced two comedic giants, similar in their use of slapstick and intricate physical gags throughout their films, but different in their cinematic techniques which they employed to convey both comedic and thematic messages. Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times is riddled with social criticisms and deep political messages that are successfully communicated in a way that does not disrupt the cinematic space, thus seamlessly entwining the expression of his viewpoints with the means by which they are expressed: comedic irony.

Conversely, Buster Keaton's Sherlock Jr. calls attention to the ways in which the medium of film effects his comedic goal and, therefore, Keaton's overall message, resulting in audiences laughing at the movie (how trickery is being used) rather than with it (how the characters are behaving). The feeding machine scene (00:09-00:13) in Modern Times and the movie-within-a-movie landscape scene (00:19-00:22) in Sherlock Jr. exhibit the two comedians' separate styles of film making, both woven with commentary on the content of their films.

The comedy of the feeding machine scene in Chaplin's Modern Times is brought about by the contrast in both the camera's and the machine operator's reaction to the machine's malfunction and the factory worker's opposite reaction. When the feeding machine goes haywire, it begins to pummel the factory worker (Chaplin) with corn (00:10), pour hot soup all over him (00:12), and feed him lug nuts (00:12), all to the shock and distress of the worker. Obviously in pain and desperate to get out of the contraption, the factory worker flails about, noticeable even when the camera cuts down to the machine operator who is trying to solve the problem (00:10) (a hint at what the operator should actually be paying attention to). Conversely, the men working to fix the machine are calm and unconcerned about the welfare of the worker. After one round of abuse, one operator says to another through a title card, “We'll start with the soup again,” almost as if he didn't even recognize the suffering of the worker. Chaplin's technique of minimalism is what drives the situational irony home. The straight-on, perfectly still shots trading off between the feeding machine operators and the factory worker add to the calmness of the scene.

The comedy is enhanced by this ironically objective disposition to the torture of our main character. Chaplin's purpose in this is to criticize the carelessness of those in charge, those who are willing to use and abuse others in the pursuit of money. The way in which he makes “our consciousness of the cinematic medium disappear” (Mast and Kawin 116) through a light-hearted soundtrack and a relaxed, uncomplicated composition also lends to the unconsciousness of what we are actually witnessing—one social class completely disregarding the wellbeing of another. By choosing not to incorporate any compositional or spacial criticism of the content of the scene (i.e. odd or disruptive angles, shot lengths, etc.) Chaplin's criticism is even further supported through the ironic comedy produced.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Keaton's purposefully meta film style comments on the nature of film and film viewing in the beginning of the movie-within-a-movie sequence in which the main character (Keaton) performs a series of stunts as the landscape changes with the scenes. In this gag, Keaton manipulates space and time to confuse and physically effect the boy who has stepped into a film, calling attention to the devices of film creation such as editing and set design. This then has its own effect on us, making us laugh because of both the physical stunts being performed and the way in which the scene pokes fun at our own belief in the tangibility, the realism, of film.

By making us face the “facade” of film, Keaton points out that watching film is watching a fabrication, a construction, and as we watch we behave like the boy in the movie-within-a-movie, falling about, completely at the mercy of the filmmaker who strings us along. This technique by which Keaton forces us to more fully realize the content of the comedy (of believing film) calls “attention to the expectations and desires with which we enter into a pact with narrative” (Gladfelder 146). Oddly, the scene's comedic effect is less so produced by Keaton's prat-falls and tumbles, but more so by his manipulative technique and the content-based commentary that coincides.

Chaplin and Keaton, seen almost as arch rivals of the silent era of film, utilized very different means by which they provided social, political, and artistic criticism through comedy, but shared in the same end: a comedic goal not met by the content of the gags alone, but also by the film making techniques that were a crucial supplementary factor in getting the artists' point across.

Works Cited

Mast, Gerald, and Bruce Kawin. A Short History of the Movies. New York: Pearson Education, Inc., 2008.

Gladfelder, Hal. “Sherlock Jr. (1924).” Film Analysis: A Norton Reader. Ed. Jeffrey Geiger and R.L. Rutsky. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 2005.

Modern Times. Dir. Charlie Chaplin. Perf. Charlie Chaplin and Paulette Goddard. 1936. DVD. Warner Home Video, 2006.

Sherlock Jr.. Dir. Buster Keaton. Perf. Buster Keaton, Kathryn McGuire, and Ward Crane. 1924. Online. Google videos, 2007.

The Flight of Dragons (Essay)

Released 1982 (Direct to video); August 3, 1986 (TV)

Studio(s): Warner Bros, ABC

Directed by: Jules Bass, Arthur Rankin Jr.

Long-time producing and directing partners Arthur Rankin and Jules Bass created some of the most memorable films from my childhood. Although they are most well-known for their Christmas fare (namely Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman), they also produced and directed The Hobbit and The Last Unicorn, both of which were childhood favorites. Another staple of my younger years were mythical creatures, especially dragons. I loved anything and everything with dragons and still do today. In fact, pretty much everything in my life up to this point has been because of my love for and interest in them (loved Hobbit because of them, which lead to Lord of the Rings, which lead eventually to where I am today).

Flight of Dragons is the most dragon-filled movie I can think of. It is absolutely steeped in dragon lore. Loosely based on a fictional natural history book of the same name and Gordon Dickson’s novel “Dragon and the George”, Flight of Dragons follows Peter Dickinson as he tries to protect magic itself from extinction.


The story goes: about a thousand years ago, magic is real but it is dying out in favor of science. People believe less in magical things and more in mathematics, biology, astronomy, and the like, and that is weakening all the fantastical things that very much do exist. This is felt mostly by the wizards, and there are four, each corresponding with an element or part of the world. Carolinus, the Green Wizard of Nature’s Realm calls his three brothers to meet at the Temple of All Antiquity to discuss the matter. His brothers being:
Solarius, Lord of Deapths and Heights, he controlls the waters; Lo Tae Shao, Master of Light and Air; and Ommadon, the Red Wizard, Lord of Black Magic (wonder if he’s the bad guy).

At the gathering, Carolinus asks his brothers to help him create the “Last Realm of Magic” where magic can stay safe from a changing world. Ommadon, shockingly, refuses, because his plan is to dominate man through greed and conquor both worlds. For some reason or another, he says the only way to stop him is to take his red crown, the source off all his power. Genius move if you ask me, “I’m gonna rule the wooooorld. Oh by the way, here’s how to kill me.”


After Ommadon’s threat it’s obvious he needs to be stopped. Lo Tae Shao says than he cannot, for he is a wizard of peace and has no weapons, but he lends a flute of healing. His brother Solarius offers all the help he can give, which at the time is a golden shield, but he also aids later on. Here the brothers’ elements come into play: earth, fire, air, water; good, evil, peace, war. It doesn’t quite match up correctly given earth’s counter-element is air, not fire, but the movie’s about dragons, not elemental balance. Antiquity, however, will not allow the four brothers to war on one another, so Carolinus asks who can help them. The answer is Peter Dickinson, a scientist/inventor from 20th century Boston. Carolinus uses a great deal of his remaining magic to transport Peter back to his time to lead the quest to capture the crown.

Peter is voiced by John Ritter, and isn’t the most dashing or charming hero-type. He spends his time fantasizing about mythical things and making board games from them. He’s also trying to write a definitive book on dragons entitled “Flight of Dragons”, which, oddly enough, a man named Peter Dickinson did. It’s his book the film is loosley based on. A “flight” of dragons, by the way, is a term for a large number of dragons, like herd of elephants or pod of whales.


Shortly before the quest is about to begin, a magical accident occurs and Peter is left in the body of Carolinus’ house dragon Gorbash. It’s hard to get used to being a dragon, and one certainly can’t lead a quest knowing nothing, so Peter-Gorbash gets a crash course in being a dragon from Carloinus’ old dragon friend Smrgol. Here is where Peter learns much of the details for his book and the dragon lore really gets going. We learn all kinds of things about dragons: how they fly, how the breathe fire, why the have gold hordes (they sleep on it because it’s comfortable and it can’t ignite like hay, I’m also fairly certain - and this detail isn’t in the film - that it has something to do with their armoured undersides, makes them stronger, Smaug brags about it in Hobbit).

The quest then continues wherein various frightening creatures are battled and heroic characters are introduced. There is a fair amount of deaths in the movie for a kids flick, and only one of the eventual five journeyers is really developed (other than Peter-Gorbash). In the final battle with Ommadon (did I mention James Earl Jones is the voice of the villain?), Peter uses science and logic to defeat the wizard’s magic, proving whcih is more powerful. The three remaining wizards are left to create their realm that will stay magical and safe, and Peter is returned to Boston to write his book and make his games.

Filght of Dragons was probably one of the worst movies I could have chosen to write about if I wanted discussion to happen. Very few people have even heard of it let alone seen it. My own brother, who I watched it with many years ago, took some time to get his memory going and remember it. It is a more memorable film than Once Upon a Forest because there are so few films like it, but it’s so ridiculously rare no one has been able to get their hands on it (a DVD is out but is incredibly hard ot find, I watched a poor-quality version on Google Video). However, continuing the theme of movies I forgot from my childhood and rediscovered, I felt this fitting.

Once Upon a Forest (Essay)

Released June 18, 1993

Studio(s): Hanna-Barbera Productions, HTV Cymru, 20th Century Fox

Directed by: Charles Grosvenor (Land Before Time 5-12)

In the early 1990s, Fox released 3 animated features that got lost in the mix of the Disney Renaissance and other big-name fare (this was Jurassic Park's competition). I saw this as a kid and then, years later, spent probably 2 more years trying to remember if I had dreamed it or not. I know I had a badger pencil-topper from a movie with forest animals and something that flew, and I asked every video store worker I came in contact with if they knew what it was. Finally I found it and eventually got it on DVD; a movie called Once Upon a Forest.


Based on Welsh graphic designer Rae Lambert's characters created specifically for a feature film, Once Upon a Forest follows three "Furlings" as they travel through their forest to find herbs to help their friend. It's an environmental movie, as their friend who needs saving, Michelle (the pencil-topping badger), has been poisoned by gas leaked from a crashed semi. The gas has spread throughout the Furling's home of Dapplewood and has claimed the lives of Michelle's parents. When the gas reaches their homes, the Furlings run to the aid of their teacher, Cornelius, who is Michelle's uncle. He is the one who tells them the only thing that will cure his niece is two herbs: lungwort and eyebright, and they're only found in a neighboring forest far away.

The three lead characters are Abigail the woodmouse, who is brash and tomboyish; Russell the hedgehog, who is fat and slow but not cowardly; and Edgar the mole, who is a mama's boy and scared of everything. They're not particularly deep characters but it's not a particularly deep movie.

On their journey, the Furlings encounter the obligatory evil owl, a staple in all movies involving mice (a staple that never equals The Secret of N.I.M.H's Great Owl). They also meet something I've never seen in any other animated film I can think of: a group of gospel-singing birds. One of their own has been trapped in the mud by "Yellow Dragons" and even though he's still alive just kind of standing there, the community is already mourning him. Loudly. After the birds sing one of the film's three songs, the Furlings encounter the aforementioned dragons before reaching their goal. But they have one last hurdle to overcome, which leads them to build the Flapper Wing-A-Ma-Thing, an apparatus conceived by Cornelius that was one of the things I had remembered from watching it when I was 8. This contraption also allows the characters to get back home in a matter of seconds, where they are greeted by humans cleaning up the mess they created.


Once Upon a Forest didn't have the big name actors the Disney films (or even the other two Fox films) of the time had. The only notable one is Michael Crawford, who played the Phantom in the Broadway Phantom of the Opera. One of the films songs is sung by him, obviously, you don't cast a Broadway singer and not have him sing. The other notable name I suppose would be David Kirschner, whose name allowed the "From the Creator of American Tail" tag on the poster.

Not particularly well-received, the film made back only half its budget ($6 million) and has no postive reviews of the five it has on RottenTomatoes. However, it fared better on home video and DVD. The studio's predecessor, another environmental film, Fern Gully, performed much better and completely overshadowed Forest. It did, however, perform comparatively better than its successor The Pagemaster.

Overall, the film wasn't big and important to the industry or the style, but it wasn't meant to be. It was meant to be fun for kids and maybe teach them something. And then have them forget about it for 10 years until they go "Oh yeah..." and buy it on DVD.