Posted on August 10th, 2006
I can’t get the hang of the blogging business. Is it better to leave comments on their blog or write a counter-blog of your own? Maybe you should blog then comment on theirs with a link back to yours? But what if they have trackback turned on? It’s all so confusing. In the end, I decided to comment on Aaron’s blog and reproduce it here.
Kevin said…
I watched the Star Wars movies in order. I thought Episode I was pretty good but went downhill after that.By Episode IV it was like he ran out of ideas or his budget for cool graphics was all gone or something.
Aaron didn’t enjoy it as much as I did…
Last night I watched Star Wars Episode 1. The movie really isn’t half bad except for three things.
… but at least we agreed that the first one was best.
Posted on July 20th, 2006
If they ever plan to make a movie from a book/cartoon/comic/video game that you love you need to think carefully before going to see it. If that, let’s say, cartoon was made 40 years ago and you have ever so fond memories from your childhood about it, you need to think very, very carefully. If the original was made in stop-frame animation by french people then dubbed into English with all-new, surrealist plots and dry, witty dialogue and the remake was going to use the latest computer-generated, 3D animation with a hollywood screenplay and american voice actors … well, you shouldn’t even risk finding out that the cynical, world-weary, middle aged, main character was to be played by one of those cheery, hopeful, annoying child actors that only grow in California. But Dylan wanted to see it so we got it on pay-per-view.
It wasn’t bad. Once I got used to the fact that Dougal had shed his nihilistic pessimism and become Doogal the ever-smiling puppy, I was able to enjoy the show even though Zebedee never once said “Boing!” and Jon Stewart made a very sorry villian.
It was a shame that Florence had only a cameo role - I spent the first 7 years of school being called Florence and Florence was Best Supporting Actress in the original, the perfect optimistic foil to Dougal’s misery - and disappointing that Dylan was a pale imitation of a hippy - being called “a bit of Dylan” was the worst insult that you could hurl at a fellow seven-year-old and was the reason that no boy children in England were named Dylan between 1970 and 1995. Was Nigel Planer not available?
Still, I enjoyed it heartily. The children laughed and laughed (I did too) and we appreciated the Monty Python references having just watched The Holy Grail. Chevy Chase as the train was great and Ian McLellan was the perfect Zebedee. But…
…by what logic did they think it OK to end a remake of The Magic Roundabout and not have Zebedee say “Time for bed” ??? It’s criminal too that they could find a way to squeeze in the original theme music.
TRIVIA
I told Dylan it was called ‘The Magic Roundabout’ in England and he asked why they kept calling it a ‘carousel’. I told him it was because ‘carousel’ is what americans call it. “No, it’s not”, he corrected me. “We call it a merry-go-round”. You learn something every day.
STOP PRESS
I just noticed from Wikipedia that the movie was made in England and then dubbed into American for over-here. Now I am very sad 
Andrew Sullivan just watched A Man for all Seasons which tells the tale of Thomas More’s struggles with Henry VIII over the relationship between religion, the law and executive power.
Roper: So now you’d give the Devil benefit of law!
More: Yes. What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?
Roper: I’d cut down every law in England to do that!
More: Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned round on you - where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country’s planted thick with laws from coast to coast - man’s laws, not God’s - and if you cut them down - and you’re just the man to do it - d’you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I’d give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety’s sake.
I have the DVD at home. Need to watch it again.