'I, Robot'

Mostly, it's about artificial intelligence.

Artificial intelligence and the parameters that organic intelligence attempt to place on it. And how this could possibly even succeed. Artificial intelligence is only as capable, as intelligent as organic intelligence strives to make it.

Yet, organic intelligence feels the need to place rules on something organic intelligence has every opportunity to temper.

Isn't that weird?

'2001: A Space Odyssey'

This is an interesting book only because it was based on Arthur C. Clarke’s short story from 1948, “The Sentinel.”

In 1964, director Stanley Kubrick approached Clarke with the idea of a movie adaptation and the author volunteered to write the screenplay. Kubrick instead recommended turning “The Sentinel” into a novel and thus basing the film on the full work. The novel was published several months after the release of the film.

So it’s a novel first written as a short story and basically commissioned for the sake of turning it into a movie. The cart didn’t come before the horse; the horse was riding in the cart.

Clarke was a very technical writer, more so than other science fiction authors. He had worked in communications and technical advances with the Royal Air Force and he even penned the paper purporting geostationary communications satellites. A futurist, Clarke’s interviews and articles (and stories) tended to mark lifestyle shifts in the future even predicting things like online banking and commerce.

Clarke spent most of his life in Sri Lanka after moving there to pursue his interest in scuba diving. Some believe Sri Lanka’s lax attitude toward homosexuality as opposed to England. He never expressly “came out” although his sexual preference is well-documented.

'The Quiet Earth'

What would you do if you were the last person left on Earth?

For one, I would first need to clarify whether there were any pets left on Earth. Did The Effect make every living thing disappear or just the humans.

This is a very important circumstance because the only real pitfall of being the last person left on the face of the planet is the loneliness. After a while, it would be debilitating. You wouldn't want to live because there'd be no one to have any intimacy or communication with. Even a hermit such as myself realizes this reality that is actually a non-reality.

If I could be like Will Smith on I Am Legend with the German shepherd, I'd be relatively set. Because, let's face facts, being the last person on Earth would be awesome.

You wouldn't need money so you wouldn't need a job. You have an unlimited amount of food, clothes and shelter. There would be almost zero manual labor outside of starting fires and killing off the escaped zoo animals foraging around your neighborhood.

Most importantly, you'd have the most valued of resources: Time. Watch movies (generator-powered, of course) and read books all the time. Take long walks (rifle in hand) and get in shape. Or don't get in shape. There's no one left to keep up appearances and what does it really matter if you live until you're 90 or 60? There's no expectations and unlimited time. How awesome does that sound?

'The Man Who Fell To Earth'

I was talking about this film with a friend and the conversation turned to that of filmmaking in the 1970s. Primarily, how directors could do whatever they want and the films, generally, are better.

Certainly standards were lax back then, but I think there was also a very influential cadre of directors willing to make the film they wanted to make and as long as they stood firm they would continue to make the films they wanted.

I also think the filmmakers weren't as focused about making money as studios are today and films done by renowned directors tend to make money nonetheless.

Also, I'd be naive to think that everything done in the 1970s was fantastic and everything done now is pathetic. Truth is, I wasn't even born in the 1970s and I've failed to largely see any of the bad films because I'm sure there were plenty.

The amount of sex and nudity in The Man Who Fell To Earth is ridiculous. Ridiculously awesome. It's also something today's filmmaker wouldn't be able to do without giving it an R rating and not making any money because 14 year olds can't get into the theater.

This film completed a pretty nice run for director Nicolas Roeg, who did Walkabout, Don't Look Now and this film in succession.

'A.I. Artificial Intelligence'

This film, upon its release, created a little hubbub because, as the story goes, Stanley Kubrick directed half the film and died without finishing it.

Steven Spielberg came in and finished the film. Critics or so-called critics stated that the break between Kubrick's part and Spielberg's part were pronounced.

I watched it under this assumption and didn't care too much for the film, Kubrick (who I love) or not. Also, it should be noted, I was really ignorant as to what really made Spielberg who he was and what made Kubrick who he was.

Knowing more, I can't see any difference as to style or plot from Kubrick or Spielberg. It's a pretty good movie upon second viewing. I thought the story was neat, a bit of a sci-fi Pinocchio and a statement on human's arrogance and our dependence on technology.

Reading more about, the Kubrick-Spielberg split is non-existent. Kubrick began working on an adaptation of "Super-Toys Last All Summer Long" in the early-1970s getting the story's writer, Brian Aldiss, to work up a film treatment.

Spielberg entered the picture (so to speak) in the mid-1980s as a producer. By 1989, almost 20 years since Kubrick had him start on the screenplay, Aldiss was fired and in the early-1990s a treatment was presented to Kubrick, who set the project aside as he finished other films. In the ensuing years, the film would enter pre-production.

However, in 1995 the film was handed over totally to Spielberg and Kubrick died in 1999. Shooting began in 2000.

So, Kubrick's role in the film is limited. Spielberg co-wrote the screenplay. He directed the entire film. All Kubrick did was hand it off to Spielberg in the first place.

Does this make it a better film? The general consensus is that Kubrick is an awesome director and that Spielberg is emotional, nostalgic and hokey. He is the man responsible for the little girl in the red coat in Schindler's List, the children of Jurassic Park and E.T.

Spielberg's mark is all over this film because its his movie. Frankly, there's a ton more Spielberg than there is even an ounce of Kubrick. There are very Spiebergian scenes. The gladiator-like scene where the robots are cruelly destroyed as celebrities cameo and robot Kid Rock and band play their own brand of hard rock. Meanwhile, somehow Jude Law and the kid escape.

Also, the aliens. I don't see Kubrick doing that. But I do see him including the Teddy. A character I did not remember the first time, but enjoyed greatly this go 'round. He was funny and sort of a touchstone for everyone in the film. As if robots need touchstones.

I did like the ending. Where the gigolo and the boy find William Hurt's headquarters in the drowned Manhattan, where the boy and Teddy travel to talk to the blue fairy. I liked that the boy wanted his "mother" cloned for that one day. It was very Wizard of Oz with the understated idea that what they were seeking they always had. We measure "real" based on our anatomy instead of how we treat others. That's a very valuable point I think.

'Things To Come'

Did people in the 1930s really have this messed up vision of the future or is H.G. Wells just a maniac?

Would someone in 1936 be completely shocked with 1995, 2001 or 2011?

This film is set in "Everytown" which is totally not unlike, say, London or another city in England. War breaks out and chaos ensues. This, clearly, mirrors World War II and the bombings in England.

The war, however, continues for decades and humanity is thwarted back centuries and are forced into a series of city-states where martial law rules and civilizations are thrust back into the Dark Ages.

Eventually, society comes back to a modern age and the film culiminates when the people begin to reject the race toward modern living and two youngsters take a haphazard trip into space before the public can destroy the ship.

It's a relatively ridiculous film, if not borderline humorous. The visions of the initial war is a bit despairing and that's a good thing.

I would bet people of the 1930s got a supreme kick out of this film. I'm sure it was a real hoot. I'm sure they would be floored by the modern age. The Internet alone would cause their brains to absolutely ooze out of their ears. It would be the singular hardest thing to explain to a citizen of the age.

However, isn't it more interesting to think about all the things that people of the 1930s thought would be phased out with technology, but are still here. Like pencils. Toilet paper. Coats. Trains. Cigarettes. Glasses.

I guarantee you that if you transplanted a 50-year-old man in 1936 to today, it would shock him more to see how life is very much the same aside from a cacophony of conveniences that he'd just find annoying.

'The Incredible Shrinking Man'

This is an interesting film. What would you do if you shrunk to the size of a few inches.

I would honestly make the most out of it. I think I'd want to be alone. I couldn't stand being around my wife and family -- all scary giants -- as they looked down (literally) on me and felt sorry for me. I'm already two inches tall. There are worse things. I don't need to feel bad.

Generally, there are accomodations are inch-tall people. A crust from a slice of bread will last you six months. A drop of water is your supply for the day. Indoor plumbing would be a problem, but general access to food water and the basics is there because of the lack of need on a daily basis.

I'd live in a dollhouse and just chill out. Problem is, they don't make tiny books or tiny TVs. It might geting boring. If I were educated enough, I'd attempt to build a camera and take photographs and make films from my perspective and somehow have them transferred to a regular-sized format. People can see Earth from the tiniest of perspective.

I'd also fight a bunch of spiders and poison the cat.

'Videodrome' & 'Salvador'

Today, most youth see James Woods as the butt of jokes on The Family Guy, as the kids' high school is named after the actor. By all accounts, he plays along with the joke.

To be honest, I don't know a lot of Woods' work outside of Casino and Once Upon A Time In America. Otherwise, he's just a name. Probably not unlike Joe Pesci. I wonder how many 16 year olds know who he is. But they know Woods' from an animated TV sitcom parody.

These are two very different films.

Videodrome is a 1980s sci-fi, 1984-esque with a less-than-ideal view of the future of media consumption and television taking over our bodies and infecting or consuming us in some diabolical fashion.

Salvador's a bit more harrowing. Woods plays a down-on-his-luck photographer, who seemingly kidnaps his friend (Jim Belushi in a role he wouldn't approach until his stellar role in The Principal) to drive to El Salvador in order to get photography work during the civil war that ravaged the country for almost three years.

Salvador is directed by Oliver Stone, his fourth film and probably his first of note before he'd have a string with Platoon, Talk Radio, Wall Street, Born on the Fourth of July, JFK and The Doors. That's formidable series of films. Although Stone is known for stretching fact for the sake of making a point, I take Salvador at face value. I very much doubt that everything that he shows didn't actually happen (many of the characters were based on real people, some real actions). If not in El Salvador, somewhere. Many times over. Including, most of all, the United States' role in the chaos that erupts all around us, needlessly.

I do wonder if I could ever be a war photographer. I very much doubt it. I'd rather have a gun than a camera if bullets are flying. It's a miracle, actually, that more war journalists haven't been killed than that actually have. Even by accident. The fact that they just wave their arms at people firing the guns to hold up so they can get in a position between the lines is mind blowing.

After watching these twos, I do have a much higher respect for James Woods.

'Strange Days'

It's amazing that Kathryn Bigelow was responsible for before she hit her grand slam.

He biggest claim to fame before The Hurt Locker was Strange Days, which probably didn't do so hot in the box office because it's the worst possible title for a film. It's almost insulting.

Anyway, Strange Days is only significant because it caught a certain amount of cult mojo, which can go a long way these days, with the Internet and all.

But Bigelow had been directing since 1982 and she's already 59 years old. Not a spring chicken. About six bombs until she caught lightning (and Jeremy Renner) in a bottle with The Hurt Locker and scored big.

Strange Days, despite the title, isn't awful. Ralph Fiennes is excellent just about everything he does. Tom Sizemore is great, however, I doubt he was actually acting; seems to have been portraying himself on a certain level.

The story is deep and multi-faceted. It shocks you quickly into this fictional world where law and order has become a thing of the past in the United States. In fact, it's so electrfying, this world, that you start to wonder what happened for it all to get that awful. If nothing else, it almost overshadows the entire film.

A plot twist that I didn't see coming nor did I care about what the apparent romance between Fiennes' Lenny and Angela Bassett's Mace. I didn't really feel there was that attraction. Just kind of a pair of characters that care about each other because they have a conscience. Not because they were in love with each other.

'Jurassic Park'

Jurassic Park was released in 1993, square in my early-teenage years.

I don't know why, but I took a strong philosophical stand against Jurassic Park. At 13. It's inexplicable because I barely have any principles now and I can't imagine having many at 13. I was more interesting in girls and heavy metal bands.

Anyway, I vowed never to see the film after seeing how utterly commercial it was. The studio spent $65 million in promotion. That means before the film was even seen, there were stores full of Jurassic Park apparel, toys, lunch boxes and junk. I was pretty punk rock in my own way.

Seventeen years later and I finally watch it.

And it's quite possibly one of the worst films I've ever seen.

There's not a redeeming quality to this film mainly because they cover up all the bloody parts with a well-placed branch or never opt to show the bloodshed. Jurassic Park is made in 2010 and we see Samuel L. Jackson getting treated like a Lunchable.

The cast is ridiculous. Laura Dern is the best we could get? Sam Neill. Cripes. The writing is awful, but the acting is worst. That little boy should have been taken in the jungle nad shot. He made me throw up in my mouth about a half dozen times.

'Independence Day'

I watched Independence Day twice in the theaters. I had a friend who had left the country for about three weeks that summer. When he returned, he naturally wanted to see the highest grosisng film of the summer. So, I went again after having seen it on opening weekend.

I found it entertaining then, but I hadn't seen it since. Looking back, the writing is awful, the special effects entirely overrated, the acting preposterous and the film is simply ridiculous on every level.

What I loved initially was Will Smith's character's cocky nature. It comes off as trite these days, but at the time it put the former Fresh Prince on the film map. Although he'd been in Bad Boys the year before, Independence Day was his true jumping-off point. Ironically or not, he's done quite a number of science fiction from I, Robot, Hancock, Men in Black and I am Legend.

What kills me about Independence Day are the shoehorned one-liners, the American jingoism and the blatant shilling for "green" living, even way back in 1996.

The one liners are awful. In 1996, they probably sounded cool. Now, they seem like the actors are reading them off a script in these super-attitudinal ways. Everyone from Randy Quaid, Jeff Goldblum, Harry Connick Jr., Judd Hirsch and Brett Spiner was guilty.

The "green" theme, I think, was not noticed at the time I first saw it. In 1996, we had worries of the hole in the ozone layer, but that was about it. Living ecologically responsible wasn't such a lifestyle choice back then outside of using non-aerosol hair spray and recycling.

Jeff Goldblum's character force feeds us his liberal, tree-hugging rhetoric ad nauseum. He throws something away, it's sure to pan to a reciprocal with a "recycling" stick on it.

As for the nationalism, the film is called Independence Day. The attacks happen over Independence Day weekend. It set up for the perfect speech from fake president Bill Pullman, or Lone Star as I like to call him. If you want to sell shitloads of movie tickets, write in a bunch of patriotic mumbo-jumbo and it'll work every time.

'Aliens'

I always thought it interesting that the sequel to Alien is called Aliens. Granted, there is now more than one alien, but, still, couldn't we brainstorm this a little bit more. Just tons of confusion.

James Cameron wrote Aliens before and during the filming of Terminator, which had been delayed thanks to Arnold Schwarzenegger filming Conan the Destoyer.

At the time, nothing was for certain. Cameron wasn't the sure bet he is now as it was Terminator that really put him on the map.

Funding for a sequel to Alien wasn't certain also because it wasn't killer in the box office to begin with. Still, Cameron continued writing. Terminator became a hit, Sigourney Weaver signed on, the film was made and it became a box-office smash.

See, things always work out.

'Planet of the Apes'

If I were an 18-year-old kid in 1968, there is little doubt that I would've seen Planet of the Apes at least four times in the theatre and another 1,000 times until my dying day.

Planet of the Apes is simply a good film. It's story driven, no doubt. The astronauts going on a "six-month" expedition into deep space, landing on a planet not realizing that actually thousands of years have passed. And this foreign planet is actually Earth ... taken over by talking apes.

If I'd read that paragraph to Mozart, Napoleon, Charles Dickens, Frank Roosevelt or Butch Cassidy, they would have all agreed that that was a kickass plot.

Throw in the preach-y sci fi, the make-up and Charlton Heston simply unable to leave a small ape village, and you've got a really good film that holds up quite well in 42 years.

That would make my hypothetical self 60. Man, I'm hypothetically old.

'Return Of The Jedi'

The third -- or sixth, depending on how you look at it -- installment of the Star Wars saga typically takes the most criticism.

However, I'm here to defend it. The biggest point of concern for those with opinions: The Ewoks.

The furry little creatures that assist the rebellion in knocking out the Empire on Endor were the last straw for most fans, who saw the ploy -- cinematically -- as being a way for George Lucas to make it more of a family film.

This is a good film. Maybe not as good as The Empire Strikes Back, but little is. You can't compare them because it's like comparing apples to giraffes. Like comparing Godfather III to Godfather II. Typically, the second in a trilogy is better. It's the apex of the plot. Where the rubber meets the rode. It's the orgasm. Everything else is foreplay and cuddling.

Therefore, Jedi and the Ewoks were already behind the proverbial eight ball. It's the unsatisfying cuddling. It's necessary after getting laid.

So, the Ewoks were necessary. Not only for the cuddling, but because they represent every indigenous people in this world that have never quite gotten the chance to fight back, to defeat the big guy.

What we never think about is that the British, Dutch, French, Spanish, Portugeuse, American and German empires went around the world and took over countries and pumped out the natural resources to make money and pad the pockets of a select few. But it's not like there were a billion armed, equal Indians taking on the British empire. Or a bunch of Vietnamese in the position to take on the French.

They had no chance. And that's why many of these countries are in total disrepair.

In a cute way, the Ewoks represent these people and the battles they've been fighting for centuries and have been losing more often than not. It's thin analogy, but, then again, it is George Lucas. Hell of a storyteller, but a half-assed filmmaker.

'Brazil'

While watching this film, I wondering who was the richest, most successful member of the Monty Python troupe.

Graham Chapman died too early and didn't do much after the break-up. Terry Jones, too, hasn't done much. I would suspect Eric Idle and Michael Palin come next. Then John Cleese.

That leaves the soft-spoken, rarely-seen Terry Gilliam. The guy behind the animation from the Python sketches and films. The only American.

He's directed The Fisher King, 12 Monkeys, Jabberwocky, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Time Bandits and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

Add in the abandonment of the Don Quixote film and Heath Ledger's death during Imaginarium gives him a sort of mythic appeal, as if he's part of the mystic of film.

Furthermore, he turned down opportunities to direct Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Braveheart.

I'd declare Gilliam the most successful, but there's nothing wrong with what the others have done with their careers. Gilliam happens to be a very good filmmaker. Brazil is just a bit of that success.

'E.T. the Extra-Terrestial'

My first exposure to E.T. was as a child, but it had nothing to do with watching the movie.

As far as I can remember, my aunt who lived in Dayton, Ohio had this pretty awesome basement-type gameroom. I call it a basement, but it was positioned, decorated and functioned as just another part of the house. As if the house were built as a three-story, but the second story is the one even with the door to the house.

It had lush, red, shag carpeting. Fancy-looking black furniture. A pool table. A large TV with Atari 2600 hooked up. A bathroom. And an inordinate amount of E.T. paraphernalia.

Stuffed animals, pillows, figurines, lunch boxes, posters -- I first remember seeing all of this at six, four years after the movie was released and another two or three before I actually watched it.

Honestly, E.T. kind of scared the shit out of me as a little kid, before I saw the movie. Aliens made me uneasy as a kid. In fact, I was pretty highly strung having worried about the economy, gangsta rap music and aliens. I don't know why.

Re-watching this film, several things pop out:

1. The amount of times Elliot screams. Christ. Get a grip. He's constantly screaming and yelling over every little thing that happens in his life.

2. The celebration of the bicycle. I assume that in the 1920s, kids took great pride in their bicycles. However, some time in the 1980s, bicycle envy and coolness became a huge thing. Owning a 10-speed was hot shit. BMX was huge. Huffy was OK when you were younger. Performing wheelies and making homemade ramps were what you did as a kid in the 1980s.

I blame E.T. Or it had a huge part in making the bicycle a status symbol instead of a way to get around.

'Star Wars' & 'The Empire Strikes Back'

The Star Wars franchise has made, I'd assume, billions of dollars over the past 30 years off of merchandising, box office, DVD sales, re-releasing the original three films and then creating the three prequel episodes.

There are probably a billion reasons for this success.

I'd contend the major reason is the story.

People (myself included, obviously) watched thousands of hours of film and TV throughout their whole lives. For any number of reasons, they love film and TV for the action, romance, special effects, acting, writing, comedy, our obsession with celebrity, because we're bored or because watching movies is just fun.

Over the past 110 years, there's been millions of films released. The reason Star Wars is so phenomenally more popular than the rest is the story.

Say what you will about the writing, acting, editing and direction of George Lucas, but he is one hell of a storyteller and that, above all, makes Star Wars utterly and undeniably compelling.

The six films capture so much we love about life: good, evil, rebellion, the thrill of victory, agony of defeat, friendships, love, family, father/son, brother/sister, heroism, ego, underdogs, favorites.

And most of all, mythology and history. When Lucas released Star Wars in 1977, he already knew (or so we're told) the story 30 years in the past of these characters. When Luke Skywalker is asking about his father and Obi-Wan Kenobi is referencing the Clone Wars, that all meant something. It wasn't just filler to provide the illusion of a past, but it was an actual past not put onto the big screen until the 1990s.

It's a good story. Bratty teenager living among the flatlands of farming country on a God-forsaken planet yearns to leave in order to fight in the rebellion. He by some twisted and crazy destiny meets up with the father-figure he never had (Kenobi), two robots that'd change his life, his sister and a hilarious pilot/swashbuckler/smuggler with borderline ethics, who'd become like a brother.

The reason he knows little about his father is because he's part-robot, part-human known as Darth Vader, the great evil lord of space, who is dead set on conquering any and all free galaxies for this Emperor fellow. Upon learning his father is everything he's not and everything he hates, our hero fully adopts this religion/genetic condition known as the Force because it's A) his destiny and B) he's more like his father than he realizes.

We explore a thousand different planets, meet millions of odd and unusual characters amid a seemingly never-ending barrage of back-and-forth banter and biting remarks between a set of characters with their backs continually against the wall with death always at their door. Throw in cyrogenics, Yoda, walking carpets, Bobba Fett, the Millenium Falcon, Billy Dee, Leia's bikini, Porkins and swamp rats, and you've got a billion things that 99 percent of all filmdom don't have.

In the end, it's about redemption. And that's only the final three installments. In the first three, we battle awful acting and writing to learn how all that aforementioned stuff happened.

'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'

What was it with filmmakers in the 1950s and their inability to craft a reasonably good science fiction movie?

I got bored about 15 minutes into this movie and it's just the same for "The Day the Earth Stood Still." Just boring, boring, boring.

They're not scary in the least, not disturbing or grotesque. In any art form, there's never been a greater difference of quality between 1950s sci-fi and modern sci-fi. It's night and day. Beatles records still hold up. Paintings from the '50s don't get worse with time.

These sci-fi attempts just stink.

Fun fact: Reading up about this film, many people adopt a theme of socialist paranoia and how it was enveloping the nation due to McCarthyism and whatnot. Producer Walter Mirisch later wrote that any communist sub-themes were all incidental and that there was no intention of taking on such a hot-button issue. Rightfully so.

'Frankenstein' & 'Bride of Frankenstein'

A popular point of discussion nowadays deals with vampires. Considering how amazingly popular they are, especially among females, it always comes back to some headier explanation when you consider the origins and myths behind such characters as Dracula, Frankenstein and a werewolf.

Reading Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein," you realize there's a grander theme that she was trying to get over to her audience about creation, human nature, blind hatred, science and much more. This is no different with the vampire or werewolf myth.

There's a rawness and darkness with all these characters. Mixing their abilities with their weaknesses and failures. How they're part human and part monster or animal. How their notion of right and wrong is skewed by some unstoppable force or affliction.

For the most part, at our worst, there's a little bit of Frankenstein's monster in all of us -- the rage, the confusion, the inability to cope with the humanness of it all.

'Alien'

I would argue that Ridley Scott hasn't directed a better film than he did with "Alien" in 1979.

Mind you, it was his third film to direct and he's done a ton of blockbusters since.

In my opinion, "Alien" is his best. Yes, in four decades of making trillions of dollars in the film industry, Scott peaked in 1979 with a sci-fi flick about an Ian Holm robot, a disenfranchised underpaid black guy and Sigourney Weaver's ultra sexy panty scene.

I dare you to think otherwise.