The good news is that the movie was a lot better than I thought it was going to be. In fact, there were parts that I enjoyed quite a bit. If you haven’t seen it, Rise of Cobra tells exactly the story that the title implies; it’s an origin story for Cobra, especially Cobra Commander, and for the old cartoon series’ perpetual male lead, Duke. There’s some other crap in there about high-tech weapons and something that someone in another, dumber universe might possibly conceive as a critique of the military-industrial complex and the ongoing privatization of the Pentagon weapons procurement process, but mostly the movie’s plot is a vehicle for far-fetched car chases and other often extremely wacky action set pieces. And perhaps not surprisingly, those are the parts of the movie that I liked the most. For example, there’s a car chase set in Paris that I thought was absolutely brilliant. The chase itself is cleverly constructed with action shots that built through a series of hits and near-misses to a crescendo of wackiness that’s at once exhilarating, wildly implausible, and fully committed to delivering on the implied threat that the sequence’s antagonists represent. On top of that comes the fact that the sequence itself is nearly all CGI, but the CGI is so well done that it actually looks real. That’s a help with both suspension of disbelief and the sense of danger surrounding the characters. Which is to say that you’re not worried about Scarlett when it’s obvious that “Scarlett” is really just a CGI construct drawn onto a blue-screened cartoon backdrop, but when you can’t tell which shots are real—when a real, live actress might actually get crushed by a truck—and which are CGI, it’s a lot easier to just let go and just believe.
All of that is not to say that there aren’t a host of valid critiques of the movie. Even for a dumbass summer action flick, this movie had moments that were either so idiotic or so poorly constructed that they yanked me completely out of the story. For example, GI Joe is supposed to be this team of international super-commandos comprised of the very best soldiers that NATO and the Western powers have to offer. And yet, when Scarlett gets on a treadmill, the actress that plays her, Rachel Nichols, runs so badly that it looks like she’s never actually been on a treadmill in her life. I don’t get that at all. And then, too, GI Joe is supposed to be “A Real American Hero”—and not an international super-team—but for whatever reason, the script has these guys based in the middle of the Sahara, and half the characters seem to be recruits out of the French Foreign Legion. Which is annoying on a couple of levels, not the least of which is that no one in NATO actually wants to fight anymore, even when the fight itself is their idea. I mean, come on. The French Foreign Legion? When was the last time those guys did anything? Everyone on Earth knows that if NATO were to put together a team of super-commandoes, it would be fitted out entirely with American soldiers and American gear along with a tiny smattering of British SAS troopers and a single, rock hard Canadian with adamatium claws.
So, bottom line, I liked GI Joe okay, both because of and in spite of its ridiculousness, and against all odds I find myself hoping that they make a sequel. I particularly liked the action sequences through the movie’s second act as well as the way that they made Rachel Nichols’s boobs into almost their own separate character. Inch thick Kevlar vest? No problem—as long as it’s covered with skintight rubber that shows off Rachel’s rather substantial rack. Additionally, I thought they did a nice job on the Baroness and Stormshadow and a couple of the other major supporting characters despite the nigh-unforgivable absence of Leatherneck. In summary, GI Joe is a fine way to spend your TV watching evenings until Burn Notice and Royal Pains start back up.
***
By the way, while we’re discussing Rachel Nichols’s rack, let me go ahead and point out that Ms. Nichols is playing the female lead in this summer’s Conan re-boot, which is yet another reason to be excited about the new Conan movie. God willing, they’ll be true to the original Robert E. Howard short stories, and she’ll be naked for at least three-quarters of the movie’s total running time.
***
Last note: I’ve been sitting at this fucking computer screen for so long today that I feel like my head is about to explode. After my long run on Sunday, I took Monday off, and then it rained Tuesday, and then last night the Life Insurance Salesman came by, so that instead of swimming, biking, or running, I got to talk about death and saving for my kids’ college funds (yippee!). Never mind that Sally and I both put ourselves through both our undergrad and graduate degrees, apparently folks actually pay tuition for their kids, and we’re probably gonna have to do it, too. Ugh. I personally do not believe in paying tuition—at all—but against the possibility that I cannot convince our daughters to fly helicopters for the Coast Guard for a few years, we’ve started talking about how we might pay in the hopefully unlikely event that we actually do wind up having to foot at least some part of some bill for some education. In any event, all that talking was a lot less fun than it probably sounds, and I’m getting antsy anyway since all I’ve done workout-wise this week is my regular commute riding. So. I’m very much looking forward to my short run tonight, but even with that, if tomorrow weren’t Friday, I’m not sure I’d be able to face it.
No comments:
Post a Comment