The Politics of Frank Miller

300 is the spiritual sequel to The Matrix from all indications. I say spiritual because, really, they have nothing to do with each other, obviously being very different films, with different stories, basic philosophies, and characters.

What is similar is the pop culture impact both appear to have had. Just as Wachowski brothers' first (and so far, only) truly significant opus pretty much stuck to the collective consciousness, so did Zack Snyder's adaptation of Frank Miller's graphic novel based loosely on some historical battle leave a rather lasting impression on moviegoers from all walks of life. What, to me, makes 300 that much more remarkable an achievement is the fact that the characters in The Matrix walked around in black leather and blew away people with impunity, the first of which is something young people love to do and the second of which is something they would love to do, so it already had a leg up with viewers (especially the sickos who went on the Columbine massacres shortly thereafter). While I'm sure a lot of viewers would love to be able to dismember people they hate with a passion, I can't imagine they would embrace the idea of walking around in leather thongs while doing so.

It only just recently struck me how similar they were, though, when I read a scathingly bad review of 300 on someone else's blog, in which the film was described as fascist, racist and homophobic. Oddly, as much as I had enjoyed the film for its gripping visuals (and little else), I could not really argue his points. All I could think was how I liked it because it looked cool, choosing to ignore any of its political overtones, intended or otherwise.

I found myself whisked back to early 1999, when The Matrix was leaving its initial impression on audiences here. I had seen it for either the third or fourth time with my then-girlfriend who, shortly after the screening, posed the question for me: "What was so great about that shoot-out in the building's lobby?" to which I could not pose any real answer, when she hit me with yet another question (or maybe it was the same question, I forget. We've been out of touch for a while now, so I can't exactly ask her): "If those guys weren't agents, then weren't they basically killing actual people?"

She totally had a point; taking away how "kewl" the whole sequence came across with its slow-motion photography, wirework and rave music soundtrack, it was basically an act of mass murder as Neo and Trinity slaughtered a bunch of human guards, all of whom were presumably hooked up to the matrix as they had once been. They hadn't killed the evil agents or computer programs (which was something clarified in the second installment as the Merovingian's goons were more categorically described as computer programs and therefore more expendable) but human beings. Unfortunately, just as I was able to gloss this little fact over ("they had to kill them or be killed" I finally managed to say, rather lamely), so did many other filmgoers, possibly including the perpetrators of the Columbine massacre.

300, I think is similar in that many viewers like myself were willing to overlook a number of its shortcomings (like how it fudged history, and how terrible the dialog was in many instances) in favor of its visuals. In that it is truly remarkable, but now that one realizes that Miller's politics, while he is certainly free to adopt them, really are rather abhorrent, whatever his avowed persuasion, one worries about how other viewers might have been indoctrinated.

Most notably, Miller's statements on the invasion of Iraq has revealed that he is essentially one of George W. Bush's staunchest allies in this endeavor. When interpellated on his stand on the matter he attempted and failed to liken the American invasion of Iraq to its having joined World War II upon being bombed by Pearl Harbor. He also went on to talk about what barbarians people are in the middle east, unwittingly exposing himself for the utter bigot that he is. I didn't know there were people who still embodied the White Man's Burden anymore, but apparently Miller still bears it quite proudly.

300, fortunately, was written before Bush even stole the 2000 U.S. Presidential Elections, so may arguably be free from the taint of an analogy, but clearly Miller's belief system was already in place.

Furthermore, it seems that Miller and DC have plans to release a Batman graphic novel called Batman vs. Al Qaeda. Miller actually compares this effort to the comics of the 40s which had Captain America punching out Hitler. Oh, for God's sake. Note to Paul Levitz: it's one thing to edit a cowardly George W. Bush out of the pages of The Authority, and another to feature U.S. Army recruitment ads in every other issue of DC Comics on the stands today, but by doing this you are practically screaming on behalf of America's oldest purveyor of superhero comics "we're Republicans and proud of it!" Your liberal fanbase may cringe in shame, and considering they've dwindled as of late, and especially considering that America's "War of Terror" is rapidly losing popularity, that may not be a good thing.

Happily for me, I am joined in my disdain for Miller's attempt to superimpose his politics onto his comics by highly respected DC comic book writer Grant Morrison, who basically exhorted Miller to give up his 'graphic novel nonsense' and basically join the army where he could really 'fight' Al Qaeda.

Viewed in the context of how Miller thinks, 300 becomes a lot less enjoyable, so my advice to anyone who watches it is pretty much to leave your brain at the door. 300 is not Braveheart nor anything meant to inspire people to acts of valor, and it certainly shouldn't be superimposed on any political situation prevailing today. It's a slick, visually-supercharged comic-book adaptation and should be appreciated on those terms, not in terms of its or its principal creator's politics, because that will probably just leave a bad taste in the mouth.

Taking Pause

About six weeks ago I wrote that my collection of diecast cars consisted only of about 35 to 36 cars. Since then it's ballooned to almost twice that, not counting the cars I bought then gave to my son, having decided I didn't want them in the collection.

I have committed a lot of the faux pas I was trying to guard against when I set out, the principal one being that I have diversified a bit too much in terms of what I have bought. For example, I have added eight Volkswagens to my collection: five Beetles, two Karmann Ghias and one VW-derived Dune Buggy. It's not that there's anything particularly wrong with VWs, but when I set out on this hobby, truth be told they weren't that high on my priority list. Absolute truth be told they were nowhere on it. I got into it because they seemed to be the hottest car on the forum, and I wanted to know what the fuss was all about, easily the worst reason to pick anything up. Sure, I like having them now, but having spent nearly two thousand pesos on them in a week I wonder if I couldn't have found something else, something cheaper to like.

It hasn't been all wanton acquisition, though; thanks to the forum and some re-shipments, I was able to complete all six Ford GT paint jobs released by Jada Toys, easily one of the high points of my collection. I picked up all of their Shelby Cobras as well. I've also picked up some nice Matchboxes, including some of their new releases. The collection may have grown pretty fast, but at least I haven't bought anything I utterly regretted buying.

I also recently marked another significant milestone in my collection as well, this past week I've finally gotten hold of the car I was looking for when this entire spree began: a 2006 Matchbox Jaguar XK. It only just hit the Philippine market recently, despite being available elsewhere for some months now, which explains why I could never find it.

So now I have something like twenty times as many toy cars as I did three months ago, and there's nothing currently on the market that I'm consciously looking for. Even though there are still quite a few cars out in cyberspace that I'd love to add to my collection which aren't about to show up on shelves here anytime soon, I'm quite happy with the collection I have now. Considering my price bracket (generally speaking), I've acquired some real gems. In fact, out of almost 70 cars, I can almost count on one hand the ones I paid a heavy premium for, even online.

Inevitably, though, I have to ask myself if I've peaked a little too soon. In some ways I feel like I've acquired too many cars too fast, though I was spurred primarily by a fear of scalpers at first. Still, I'd be an utter liar if I didn't admit that in the latter stages I was practically hunting them down out of compulsion. In fact, the thrill of the hunt is slightly blunted by an easy find, even if it's a good one. My trips to Festival Mall became a little less special for their frequency (though thankfully it's been over a month since my last trip) and I find myself a little less attracted to "exotic" cars (i.e., the more expensive stuff as opposed to the garden variety Matchboxes and Hot Wheels).

I have to admit I lost perspective there, so I think it's to time to take a breath for a little bit, especially considering I now have everything I really want that I can buy off the rack, or even online at reasonable prices.

I don't quite want to go the way of eBay yet; that could open a whole new can of worms.

On Self-Help Seminars

Last night my wife and I attended a "sampler" as it were, of an ongoing self-help seminar spearheaded by some Fil-Am who has apparently dazzled a lot of people with his words of wisdom. Our experience at the sampler consisted principally of former participants of the seminar sharing their experiences and attesting to how they had benefited from the seminar. Some ofthe guests shared some of their frustrations, and I even got a crack at the mike to talk about some of the things I'd like to do with my life which I haven't gotten around to doing. It's not that I really wanted the help; I just like to talk, really.

I found myself struck by the seminar, which is a lot like the seminar Greg Kinnear's character in the film Little Miss Sunshine was trying so hard to push. I was struck by how shrewd its organizers were, basically catering to people with specific insecurities, the most conspicuous of whom seemed to be the ones with relationship problems. I was, during the break (during which Theia and I sneaked out) even approached by a strikingly beautiful facilitator who asked me if I planned to register to which I politely said no. I marvelled at how clever they were; what better way to attract a young man into their seminar than by having a very attractive young woman make the spiel?

I'm not really going to dump on the seminar (thought at P19,000 for four freaking days it is definitely pricey; my Mandatory Continuing Legal Education didn't cost nearly as much) because from what I saw in that room there was definitely a market for it.

What strikes me is how, even in a country such as the Philippines which puts a high premium on family values, there are apparently quite a few people who have managed to alienate themselves from their respective communities and families.

I've never been a particularly outgoing guy, but when I form friendships and other relationships I value I make an effort to nurture them. It's not something I always knew how to do, but I learned it over time and am still learning it. And I certainly didn't need someone else to teach me how to do it. How far gone, then are some people, that they would need someone to tell them how to talk to their family, or something like that?

Is this a signal of the inevitably decay in society? Is this "me" culture which has so many people present at that seminar feeling lost a product of too much Westernization? I really don't know, and it sounds like something that should be viewed a little more scientifically. Whatever it is, I honestly think it's sad that, rather than seek the aid from one's own community, be it from the parish priest or one's extended family or network of friends, there are people willing to shell out large amounts of money just to learn how to relate to others.

The Passion of Will Smith

The Pursuit of Happyness marks Will Smith's best performance as an actor since his first leading role on the big screen in Six Degrees of Separation. He may have landed an Oscar nomination once before for doing an eerily accurate impression of Muhammad Ali, but this was the first time in his career he's truly played against type, and it works beautifully.

Happyness (the misspelling is part of the story) is the story of Chris Gardner, a bone density scanner (don't ask) salesman whose fortuntes, at the beginning of the movie, are pretty much in a downward spiral. It is when he learns that he can improve his station in life (i.e. make more money) by being a stockbroker, his path for the next six months is set. He joins an internship at the Dean Witter brokerage where for six months, he will compete with several other candidates for the chance to be declared their new broker.

There's just one problem: as an intern he is not paid any salary, and unfortunately selling his machines gets progressively harder, especially when the IRS hits him for just about everything he's managed to make. As a result, he and his son Christopher (played by Jaden Smith, Will's real-life son, who is a revelation all his own) end up homeless, sleeping in shelters and train station bathrooms.

Of course, this is a feel-good movie, so one doesn't have to be a brain surgeon to know who will eventually beat out all of the other interns for that coveted job with the brokerage.

Still, the journey there is so excruciating, so full of cruel twists of fate that although the audience is aware (having in fact, informed at the very beginning) that this movie was inspired by true events, one cannot help but feel the hand of contrivance pop up time and again in the screenplay. There's a little silliness in the script that is called for, while other times it seems rather unintentional. It doesn't really matter whether or not it really happened, because as far as I'm concerned it's all in the telling.

This movie is billed up as a feel-good movie, but to my mind it plays very much like Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. I don't know how many other people will draw this parallel, but in each stroke of misfortune that Gardner had to endure I saw the inordinate cruelty with which Gibson depicted Jesus Christ's suffering, the difference being that while, word for word, the Bible describes what happened to Christ, screenwriter Will Conrad presumably had a bit more leeway. That notwithstanding, he and director Gabriele Muccino pile on the pain and suffering for nearly two hours straight until both Gardner and the audience can barely stand it, at which point they finally offer up Gardner's moment of redemption.

The thing is, as with Jesus Christ's footnote of a resurrection in Passion, Gardner's success does pretty much nothing to change how terrible I felt after having been put through such an emotional wringer for something like ninety-nine percent of the movie. At some point I was practically groaning at how excessive all the things that were happening to him felt.

Fortunately for this film, Smith elevates it past its script and direction by suffusing Gardner with dignity even in the face of all of his travails. Although Gardner isn't a fountain of wisecracks throughout the movie, Smith still brings to him the charm that he has trademarked (and he does get a few good one-liners in besides). Not only that, but Smith and son Jaden play wonderfully off each other. I don't usually much care for child actors but this kid really knocks it out of the park for me.

At the end of the day, this is every inch Smith's movie, and his ninth or tenth career $100+ grosser. Forget Tom Cruise; THIS is Hollywood's biggest movie star. And he's a better actor to boot.

300

300 is some good, solid entertainment, and easily the best action film I've seen all year.

In a nutshell, it's a retelling of the ancient Battle of Thermopylae, in which a small cadre of Spartan warriors led by King Leonidas (Gerard Butler in what is surely the role that will launch him into stardom) took on a much larger force in the form of the Persian army and inflicted severe losses on them before being killed to the last man. Of course, that it was directly adapted from Frank Miller's vision of that battle adds another dimension to the filmmaking altogether.

The end result is an hour-and-a-half-long, magnificently shot and choreographed fight scene, abetted by some highly stylized visual effects which embody the best "real actors against virtual backdrops" film so far since the genre was launched with Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow a few years back. If appreciated on these terms, then the film is pure delight.

Apart from that, it's not what I'd call a brilliant film, and anyone who's seen Gladiator and Sin City is sure to recognize their love child, with a little DNA infusion from the Matrix. In short, one of its maladies is that it suffers from a lack of originality.

Another is a script with some rather halting dialogue. I remember how Peter Jackson (or was it Fran Walsh) when accepting the Academy Award for the Best Adapted Screenplay congratulated the actors for being able to spout out some difficult dialogue. On the off-chance the scriptwriters should be similarly rewarded for their efforts they should be doubly grateful because just as 2005's Sin City carried some of Miller's clunkier dialogue onto the screen, this movie does the same.

Still, apart from the stunning action sequences and set pieces, the film boasts yet another asset, and that is Butler. His acting is unabashedly over-the-top, which is presumably his way of dealing with the larger-than-life persona Miller bestowed upon Leonidas. His charisma is such that even though the screen is filled with men in leather thongs, all with virtually identical bodily proportions he still stands out for the sheer ferocity of his performance. The other actors, with the exception of David Wenham who plays the narrator and Rodrigo Santoro who plays the disturbingly strange God-King Xerxes, kind of just melt into the background.

As spectacular as the fight scenes are, though, one finds oneself desensitized to the violence after the first five minutes of the big battle. And yes, I will concede the point raised by many reviewers that the repeated device of slowing the action down and showing in great detail the dismemberment and/or impalement of the Spartans' enemies does get old pretty quickly, to the point where everything seems more than a bit cartoonish after awhile. Gamers should absolutely love this movie, especially when the decidedly anachronistic rock music starts to play; it feels out of place in a period film but right at home in a stylized video game.

These shortcomings notwithstanding, one cannot take away from director Zack Snyder, who remade Dawn of the Dead some years ago, what he has achieved, and that is a visually-arresting spectacle that faithfully translates its source material to the big screen. I won't even go into the political interpretations of this film because I don't think it was meant to be digested with anything even approaching depth; it's just a rip-roaring good action yarn and not much more than that.

The Politics of Marvel

Well, apparently, Captain America is dead.

It's a story that has featured prominently in all of the comic book sites I read and in some mainstream media sites as well.

Is it permanent? Nah. They would never kill off an icon like that permanently. In both major comic book companies, Marvel and DC, the only icon who remains dead and buried is Barry Allen. As Spider-Man said, once, in one of the earlier JMS issues "that never seems to last very long around here, does it? Just about everyone I know has been dead at one point or another."

Is it a stunt? Well, Marvel haters would happily dismiss it as such, but I honestly think there's more at work here than the commercialism that drove the death of Superman or even (let's be fair here) the cloning and replacement of Spider-Man.

For one thing, one has to consider that Marvel is currently riding on the wave of the publishing phenomenon called Civil War, the best-selling American comic book of the new millenium (the half-a-million-selling issues of Tokyopop stuff aren't American), the seven issues of which have sold over two million copies on the whole. Captain America was one of the two principal characters of that book, the other being Iron Man. It was all about them, really, and it sold like hotcakes.

For another thing, most of Marvel's line (including the Captain America title) has benefited massively from that mini, and it has launched a number of books out of it, besides, including a revamped New Avengers book and an all-new Avengers book.

Oh, and they already have two gimmick event books linedup for the year, one involving the Hulk and the other involving the X-Men (neither of which I am buying, happily for me).

So no, I don't think the flagging popularity of any character came into play here.

I honestly believe that this is Marvel flipping the bird yet again at the Bush administration.

Tony Stark's pro-registration forces may have won the Civil War, and it's a way of acknowledging the current status quo in America with the Patriot Act in place. Now, however, it feels like Marvel is saying that when certain freedoms are curtailed, America might as well be dead. I mean, one of their most important characters is wearing the American flag and lying bloodied on courthouse steps, for God's sake. You don't get much more political than that. It may be a little prosaic, but at least it isn't so much about sales as it is ideology.

And Marvel has brought forth some of the best talent in its roster to tell this story. The current Captain America writer Ed Brubaker is probably one of the most well-loved by fandom since Mark Waid, if not more, and I have yet to hear anyone saying anything bad about Steve Epting's moody, stylish art. Marvel's even lined up a miniseries about the reactions of different heroes to Cap's death called Fallen Son, written by Heroes producer/writer Jeph Loeb and drawn by John Cassaday, David Finch, Ed McGuinness, John Romita Jr. and Lienil Yu. It's not as if they're getting by with gimmick covers or pre-sealed bags. Whatever one may feel about this story, at least Marvel's telling it in style.
Right now I love how Marvel is basically wearing its anti-Bush sentiments out on its sleeve. Its staff was actually anti-Bush even when it wasn't fashionable, the only blip being the time some right-wing journalist wrote a propaganda piece for the war in Iraq which they couldn't bring themselves to publish for the longest time and finally ended up printing as a one-shot rather than the originally planned miniseries.

So what's my guess as to how and when they'll bring Cap back? None, really, but maybe they'll bring him back in time for the 2008 elections, or after the mostly-Democrat Congress has impeached Bush, or after America has elected its first woman or black president.

Will I buy this story? I'm not really sure, but I certainly applaud Marvel's decision to print it.

Getting the Big Boys to Pay.

Oddly enough, my new hobby, collecting diecast cars, has even helped enlighten me on how incredibly stupid car companies, particularly American car companies, are.

As a collector, I have found myself gravitating towards the Ford Mustang. Old and new, they comprise a big chunk of my collection, to the extent that I have more Mustangs than any other single type of car. It's the icon I'm drawn to, really, more than anything else.

In my excitement over this particular make of car, I read a bit about them on the internet and watched some youtube videos of my favorite show, Top Gear in which the new Mustang was reviewed. Predictably, the Mustang was lambasted by the show's hosts in view of its poor handling. The same went for the Shelby GT500, the 2007 version of the legendary 1967 Shelby GT500; its poor handling caused a couple of reviewers to give it the thumbs down.

What bothered, me, however, was not the bad review, but a certain technical detail about the car, namely that it employed a live axle, which means that instead of rear-wheel independent suspension, which is what most current performance cars (and most passenger cars for that matter) employ, both its rear wheels turn on a solid metal rod.

Ford and legendary Mustang Tuner Carroll Shelby have defended the decision to deprive what is currently their flagship muscle car of the best technology available, stating that to put in this system would have made the car more expensive by about 5000 dollars and that the handling would not have significantly improved anyway (the latter of which I severely doubt).

It's not like I would ever buy this car anyway, but I was intrigued, so I dug a little deeper and learned what the ultimate cause for the cost-cutting was: Ford is basically in deep shit, having posted its biggest financial loss in years.

Like the other big two car manufacturers, Dodge and General Motors, Ford's primary lines of vehicles are its big, stupid, gas-guzzling SUVs and its pickup trucks, which basically panders to big, stupid Republicans. As is the case with so much else, Americans just have to do everything in ridiculous excess. What do you expect out of a nation where "food fights" are a staple in many of its slapstick comedies?

Well, apparently gas prices have severely curtailed the Americans' propensity to guzzle gas, and so all of the big three have suffered severely for it, with Toyota overtaking GM as the world's number one seller of automobiles, which says a lot considering GM has divisions all over the world churning out all kinds of different cars.

Because Ford, however, has ventured most of its eggs in the SUV basket, it's lost money hand over fist and now can't even afford to put independent rear-wheel suspension in arguably one of its most important products. The proof that things have gotten progressively worse for them is the fact that the previous generation Mustang did, in fact, have IRS.

So it is of some consolation that at least some of the conspirators behind the death of the electric vehicle are finally paying their dues. People are finally using their most powerful weapon against the capitalist; the dollar, or more appropriately, their refusal to spend it, and have brought one of the world's biggest capitalists to its knees.

However, the new Mustang, medieval suspension notwithstanding, is apparently quite the seller, with its iconic appeal and good looks. The other big two car companies have taken their cue and are reintroducing their own sixties icons, namely the Chevrolet Camaro and the Dodge Challenger. Thinking that the SUV is on its way out, the big three may come to believe that the solution is to go retro and bring back the muscle car. The only problem is, these muscle cars still use five-liter V8 engines. It's kind of amazing how myopic these people can be. One would think car executives are smarter than the morons who buy their products.

Of course, if the market is flooded with gas guzzling muscle cars, with gas prices continuing to escalate, it'll only be a matter of time before people stop buying these cars for the same reason they did their SUVs and pickup trucks, and start going back to their gas-sipping Toyotas, Hondas and other non-American cars.

It'd be nice, actually, if some Japanese or European company actually bought Ford out, the way Ford bought British companies Jaguar and Aston Martin. It would be nice to have business managers with long-term vision, and not just a desire to make a quick buck, running the company, and maybe the electric-car technology Ford (and its co-conspirators in the big three) sat on may see the light of day at last. Or, at the very least, a change in company philosophy would come about, with much less reliance on motor vehicles with a displacement any bigger than two-and-a-half liters.

This is Ford's chance to effect a huge paradigm shift; having been screwed by the oil companies who really couldn't give a damn about anybody's bottom line but their own, it is in a position to start hitting those companies back by making cars less dependent on their products. It can join other eco-warrior car companies like Honda and Toyota and make a clean break from the rest of the Detroit conspiracy with cheaper, and more importantly more fuel-economical cars.

Maybe using a revamped business policy that steers away (pardon the pun) from SUVs and excess, they can actually start making money again, and afford to put some real suspension in their Mustangs. Maybe (gasp) they can start making the Shelby GR-1 concept car a reality.

It's poetic justice to see the big three floundering as a result of all their indulgence. The trick now is how to do the same to the oil companies.

A Movie That Richly Deserved the Best Picture Oscar...

...is the one that won it this year. Fuck. What a year to miss the theatrical runs of each and every candidate for the Best Picture Oscar.

I've seen two of the candidates on video, both of which sport some nice awards including the grand freaking prize, and they're both utter gems of cinema.

Not since 1988 have I failed to see any of the Oscar-nominated films in the theaters. That's nearly a twenty-year fucking streak, and the one year I broke it was the year some seriously kickass movies made it up there.

I would have gladly traded in the year I swallowed crap like The English Patient or American Beauty if it meant seeing both Little Miss Sunshine and this latest gem I've seen, The Departed, up on the big screen where they belong.

The Departed is a film I wanted to see when it came out last September (or was it October? I don't even remember anymore) well before any Oscar buzz even started (though I understand that quite a bit of it was already stirring about in pre-production).

When I finally saw a barely passable copy of it on a bootleg DVD that my sister-in-law brought home, I had mixed feelings; I was ecstatic to finally get to watch this fantastic film, but at the same time I really, really felt bad about not having seen it in its cinematic glory.

Oscar-winning director Martin Scorsese and Oscar-winning screenwriter William Monahan have crafted a masterpiece of narrative. Granted, he borrowed the plot from Infernal Affairs, a Hong Kong movie, but considering the guys who made that movie (or movie trilogy) have openly expressed Scorsese's influence on their series of films, I guess it's a bit of tit-for-tat.

As all the materials have stated, the film is about a cop, played by Leonardo DiCaprio in easily the best performance of his career, who infiltrates Boston's Irish mob, headed by a devastatingly sinister Jack Nicholson, and about a mob mole, played by Matt Damon in yet another astonishing display of versatility, who has infiltrated the Boston police force. The story is so full of twists and turns that to discuss it at length would give away some meaty surprises, but suffice it to say that the characters find themselves in a race against time, each trying to uncover the other.


As though he felt his esteemed leads were not enough to carry this brilliantly-woven narrative, Scorsese tapped the services of an all-star supporting cast that includes Mark Wahlberg, Martin Sheen and Alec Baldwin, all of whom deliver richly textured (and in Wahlberg's case, career-defining) performances that, together with those of the principals, make this movie that much greater as a whole than the sum of its parts, which says a lot. Even without the Oscar nod, Mark Wahlberg has officially graduated from the name Marky Mark, and has transcended his starring roles in such turkeys as The Big Hit and The Perfect Storm. Alec Baldwin may now be forgiven for his long streak of bad movies and his supporting role in the godawful Pearl Harbor. Martin Sheen may now be remembered for having playing an important role in a momentous film, rather than his stint as the President of the United States on television.

The success of this film all comes down to the writing and the acting. The action, or more appropriately, the violence is so rampant it's almost cartoony, and you can bet this movie isn't about fight choreography or car chases, but it's just as riveting as any of those things because once the script starts on its roller coaster ride it basically grabs the viewer by the throat and doesn't let go until the end credits roll.

Here's the thing of it: in my frustration at missing it in the theaters I read all about it on the internet, spoilers included, and while I admit it would have bit a lot more hard-hitting had I been caught by surprise by a lot of its surprise twists, especially towards the end, I still found myself a little startled by how everything turned out.

The last film I saw with a similar script and narrative structure this good was Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs. It even operated on the same principle; a mole has infiltrated a gang and the movie is about smoking him out. This script had just as much panache and followed its own path. The absence of any Tarantino humor notwithstanding, though, this movie benefitted from some truly incredible writing.

When this movie first came out late last year I asked a friend of mine what he thought of it, to which he could only respond: Bleak.

Well, to be honest, bleak it was, but to my mind it was so much more than that. Scorsese has truly shown himself to be a director for the ages. I mean, he already has more than one masterpiece in each and every decade since the 70s. Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas, Gangs of New York, and now this.

Oscar or no, this should easily be one of the best-remembered films of his career, and with good reason, too.

I feel terrible about seeing this movie on a bootleg DVD because as far as I'm concerned, to do so is a big fat "fuck you" to the makers of the movie, who in this case really did deserve my money, a lot more so than those fuckers at Columbia and Marvel pictures for making Ghost Rider, or Tom Cruise did for any of his vanity movies, especially the Mission Impossible trilogy. It makes me feel bad because I realize now that if I called myself a movie lover while just watching this stuff on pirated DVDs and not in the theaters would be the same thing as calling myself a comic-book lover if all I did was to read them at the store and never buy any. In both cases I'm doing a severe disservice to the art form.

Well, to make it up to these guys, I am hereby committing to buy the real DVD of this someday. They may not need my money, but for giving me a movie this good they damn well deserve it.

A Cute Little Film About Life's Little Disappointments

I feel guilty about having seen Little Miss Sunshine on a bootleg DVD (which I didn't buy, incidentally). It was a movie that richly deserved my money, although given that its run was exclusively limited to Ayala Cinemas, it wasn't exactly easy for me to find time to watch it.

Still, after having watched something as wretched as Ghost Rider it is truly refreshing to watch a a light-hearted, well-written film that embodies the art form as well as Sideways did two years ago. While I certainly applaud the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences' decision to award The Departed (a movie I wanted and still want to see) with the best picture statue (and its director, Martin Scorsese with his first, looooong overdue Oscar), this movie richly deserved to be part of that derby.

It's essentially the odyssey of a family that travels cross-country so that their little girl (the irrepressibly plucky Abigail Breslin) can compete in the titular Little Miss Sunshine pageant. A stranger bunch of characters you will not find: a gay, suicidal uncle (Steve Carrell), a drug-snorting, foul-mouthed grandfather (for which Alan Arkin just won an Oscar), a teenaged big brother who's under a vow of silence (Paul Dano), and the "normal" ones, a husband (Greg Kinnear) and a wife (Toni Colette) who are basically betting their bottom dollar on the husband's ability to sell a self-help seminar. Oh, and of course there's the daughter (Breslin). I would be remiss if I didn't mention one of the film's most memorable characters: an old, beat up, yellow VW Bus.

This is simply a superb movie from start to finish. The actors are pitch-perfect, the script is on a par with Sideways and has the distinction of being an original work as opposed to the Alexander Payne's adaptation of a novel. It has all the quirkiness of a Charlie Kaufman film without the metafictional or surreal qualities to it.

And God, it is funny. From start to finish. It is just perfect in its mixture of humor and heartbreak. Films like that truly hit home with me.

And heartbreak is what this film is all about; that, and family. But the element of disappointment, of life's many letdowns, is what I suspect rings true with just about everyone who really enjoyed this film.

It's lovely how Steve Carell's character Frank captures this theme towards the last third of his movie by sharing the experience of French writer Proust; his suffering and disappointments were what truly helped form his character, much more than the moments of happiness in life.

The movie tells us how we should run towards what we want even though potential disappointment awaits us, because it is our efforts, even the ones--maybe even especially the ones--that end in failure, that define us in the end.

I haven't said this in a long time, but it's a good time now: watch this movie. However you get your hands on it, watch it, and be moved by it.

The End of Hostilities: Civil War #7

Well, a full four months after it was originally scheduled to end, Marvel's Civil War has finally drawn to a close.

As anyone could have guessed, it all came down to a big throw-down between the two opposing factions: pro and anti-superhero registration. This issue is essentially a protracted fight scene, which in this case is not a bad thing at all.

Finally, the resolution of the conflict hinges not on the leader of one faction punching out the other, but on an epiphany. It's quite well-conceived in that sense, and although the ending may seem inconclusive to many, it actually remains quite true to the original spirit of the series which was to reflect the state of America and its civil liberties.

This series has been a bit of a mixed bag, but at least there have been some constants: every issue has boasted some of the best comic book art ever to see print in the new millenium. It has been consistently engaging, whether because of interesting plot developments or character flaws. The question that arises now is whether Marvel will be able to top themselves in the near future, and the way I see it, they won't be able to do it this year, which is pretty much why I've taken a sabbatical from collecting for awhile, and possibly have given up collecting monthlies altogether.


Civil War has served as an incredibly clever marketing tool for Marvel in that, just after getting everyone's attention, it has basically shattered the existing status quo and set the stage for just about its entire line for the next few years.

The thing is, I like self-contained stories, event or otherwise. I come back for more because of the creative teams and not necessarily because any particular hype machine.

I'm not really interested in buying titles just because they spring "from the pages of Civil War."

Fortunately, as a storyline, Civil War has worked on a number of levels, though only time will tell how memorable this series will truly be.

What I truly appreciated about this story was how very grounded it was. Sure, it was fantastical at some crucial points, but the creative team never lost sight of their real-world parallels. I love the resolution precisely because it isn't some neat, cut-and-dried good triumphs over evil, right beats wrong solution to everything.

And, contrary to the expectations of a lot of fanboys, never once did any deus ex machina rear its head.


Yes, this series has provided a hell of a roller-coaster, and anything that comes afterwards is likely to feel rather bland, so for the moment, I'm getting off.

To Mark Millar, Steve McNiven, Tom Brevoort, and everyone else involved, though, I say thanks for the ride.

Ghost Rider

Let me state something for the record. I am a Marvel zombie. I was one of the few people who bothered to list the high points of Fantastic Four. I preferred X-Men 3 over Superman. When it comes to comic books and comic-based movies, even though I no longer buy comic books, I still have an inordinate preference towards Marvel (though I still didn't bother with Elektra, The Punisher or the Man-Thing TV movie).

That said, I found Ghost Rider to be a terrible movie. I actually enjoyed myself laughing at how awful it was (more than at their numerous jokes) so fortunately I didn't waste my money, in a strange sense.

I was one of the few people happy to see Marvel Comics' hero Daredevil on the big screen, though I wasn't at all happy with Ben Affleck's performance, or the fact that the story didn't seem to make any sense beyond explaining how he got blinded and got his superpowers at the same time.

The fact that the writer/director of Daredevil, Mark Steven Johnson, was taking on another b-list Marvel hero, Ghost Rider, made me extremely leery of the film. I was assuaged a little by the early trailers featuring some stunning visual effects (particularly his flaming head), but when Sony made the decision to not screen the movie for critics that was a pretty big red alert for me.

Still, I went to see it, even after it had been almost universally panned by critics. After all, it now boasts Nicolas Cage's career-best opening, so I figured maybe the reviewers were just being the uptight, pretentious gits they often are.

Having seen it, I can now say that most of them were right on the money.

Holy cow, this movie was a stinker. Obviously, screenwriter (and director) Johnson wasn't taking the material seriously at all, and while there's nothing wrong with that, per se, it could have been done so much better. It was written as an action-comedy/western with a very slight touch of horror, but that didn't mean it had to be written so badly. The producers may have done well to drop David S. Goyer's script (as his last Blade movie was not only terrible, but a box-office failure as well), but if they had wanted decently-penned action comedy they should have picked up action-adventure go-to-guys Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio, the writers of The Mask of Zorro and more significantly The Pirates of the Caribbean. Johnson's script was horrendous, with some of the most bloodcurdling lines I've heard since the "romantic" dialogue in the Star Wars prequels.

My wife didn't hate it, excusing its nightmarish narrative (and I don't mean that in a horror/gothic sense) by saying "well it's a comic book movie" thereby showing her disdain for the genre in general. See, this movie was okay to people who don't like comic books, which is a sad statement indeed.

I won't even bother summarizing it or going into plot points or anything beyond saying that it's about some stunt cyclist who made a deal with the devil (Peter Fonda), because the story was just so poorly structured even my barest description of it may expose all the holes, and I don't want to go through that again.

To be fair to Sony (though Sony should have been fair to us by giving us a real script), there are a couple of gems in this movie. I found myself feeling bad at how spectacular the effect of Nicolas Cage's head being digitally replaced with a flaming skull was; it was such a gripping visual for such a bad movie. All of the special effects related to the Rider himself were absolutely topnotch, which couldn't have been easy considering how unwieldy fire effects can be. At least they got this right; too bad they didn't focus on the story first. Also, Peter Fonda as Mephistopheles was, in a word, cool. I loved the way he played the devil; it's kind of like the way Morgan Freeman played God in Bruce Almighty, in that I could actually imagine the devil looking and talking just like him. Also, I did laugh at some of their jokes, though it was either do that or cry.

I like my comic-book movies the way I like my comics, tightly-scripted, with the right amount of humor, drama, pathos, and hard-hitting action. Give me the Spider-man films, the first two X-Men films or Batman Begins. Give me V for Vendetta or 300. Hell, give me the first two Blade films! Don't give me idiocy like this!

Memo to Marvel films: please, PLEASE do not inflict Mark Steven Johnson on any more of your characters.

Send In The Clowns

See, THIS is why I'd rather write about movies, or my hobbies, or "fluff."

Because all things considered, next to the "hard-hitting" stuff, the stuff that is supposed to matter, it all seems so much more relevant.

Just this past weekend I've been treated to spectacular displays of stupidity as election season seems to have started a tad early.

Yesterday afternoon I was treated to a shameless display of jump-the-gun campaigning as aspiring senator Richard Gomez used his show, the "S-Files" to broadcast (no pun intended) his intentions to anyone watching. Maybe the guy really is some kind of idealist but I'm pretty sure he crossed a line when he used his TV show as a campaign platform. I can't say for certain but offhand I think he may have violated the statutory period allowed for campaigning. Anyway, let's see if anyone thinks to sue him for it.

Later on I was "treated" to both sides of the political fence announcing their respective lineups for the senatorial race. Seeing people like Pangilinan and Villar batting for the opposition was no big surprise considering how pissed they were when GMA signaled her intention to put the Senate on the chopping block so she could save her ass, but what really blew me away was seeing Tessie Oreta and Tito Sotto on the ADMINISTRATION slate.

Oreta, whose dance of joy incited an angry populace to stage EDSA II. Sotto, who basically was one of the driving forces behind the failed FPJ presidency, who, during his heyday in the Senate, was embroiled in drug charges, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be part of a task force meant to stamp the whole thing out. It's hilarious how desperate the administration are to show off how they've "won over" these buffoons. It's musical chairs at its very worst.

My God, our elections have gone from farce to cartoon. Well, thinking about it, they've been cartoons for ages now but I guess I just persisted in the delusion that they were even halfway serious.


Yep, give me my comics and diecast cars any day of the week. At least they seem more lifelike.

What Is It About That Guy?

It being Oscar season, I've made an observation: Brad Pitt's status as a Hollywood power player has shot into the stratosphere. He may not have starred in a box-office blockbuster this year, but I think 2006 is a banner year for him just the same.

Not only is he starring in one of the frontrunners for best picture, Babel, but he has producer credits on the other, more heavily favored frontrunner, Martin Scorsese's The Departed, though he wasn't nominated for it.

Considering how unforgiving Hollywood be, I find this baffling.

When Pitt burst onto the mainstream in Ridley Scott's Thelma and Louise, people were gushing about his charisma and sex appeal and hailed him as the next Redford, especially when he starred in a Redford movie, A River Runs Through It.

1994 would prove to be his true breakout year, however, as he overshadowed Tom Cruise in Interview with the Vampire and enthralled audiences with his turn as a turn-of-the-century James Dean in Legends of the Fall. He was quick to follow that up with Seven.

And then, for years thereafter, he starred in one misfire after another. From Seven Years in Tibet to Fight Club, he couldn't seem to carry any project to box-office success.

It puzzled me that even though he didn't seem to have any box office muscle to flex, for some reason he never entirely lost his golden-boy status. It seemed that only numbers geeks (like myself) thought he was just a flash in the pan. I never understood how he never lost "it" boy status, even though he had something like four or five bombs or underperformers in a row.

In 2000 he married popular wet dream Jennifer Aniston. He was still pretty much in box office limbo, but he managed to grab headlines just the same.

In 2001 he then rode the Soderberg/Clooney train to success with Ocean's Eleven, his first $100+ million hit in seven years, one he couldn't even really take credit for, unlike, say Matt Damon for his Bourne movies. He then followed this up with the hit Troy and his biggest hit to date, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, establishing himself as a box-office star.

This is where things get mindblowing.

What kills me is how, after four or five years of marriage to a woman every other heterosexual male would love to shag, he basically dumps her (admittedly for the also eminently shaggable Angelina Jolie), and has a whole lot of people, men and women, nodding in assent and practically saying "it's all your fault for letting him go, Jen." He then sires a baby by the woman he swore he didn't leave his wife for (how many people actually believed that, anyway), and everyone is now cheering them on as a Hollywood power couple. And now here he is starring in one of the Oscar best picture contenders and producing another.

This is why this perplexes me:

Tom Cruise jumped on a sofa and barked at some TV journalist and everyone thinks he's insane, or a closet homosexual, or any of a million other conspiracy theories. People don't like him; the Razzies award people invented a whole new category just for him, Paramount Pictures, the studio he made probably two billion dollars for in the past twenty years cut him loose because of his recent eccentricity, and there are people still convinced that his recent baby and marriage with Katie Holmes is just one big stunt to revitalize his flagging career. Obviously, then, it's not a question of good looks.

Russell Crowe vented his wrath on some little prick of a hotel clerk who flashed him some attitude, and suddenly became a Hollywood pariah. His last two films underperformed at the box office, with his reunion with Gladiator director Ridley Scott doing a spectacular belly flop. I guess it didn't help that he's widely perceived as a bully, but one thing's for sure: it's not a question of bad boy status.

So why, in a culture/community that can end careers just by refusing to buy movie tickets, is Brad Pitt seemingly on top of the world even after being just as big if not a bigger jerk than some A-list stars who have been recently cast down for less? Bad ticket sales didn't kill his career, and neither did bringing a nasty end to what everyone thought was a dream marriage.

At this point I don't think even bashing Jews or screaming "nigger" at black people in a nightclub (or doing both in succession) could kill his career.

Whatever potion it is he's used to enthrall much of the world at large, I sure want some of it.

Leaner

I remember when the only comic book title I ever bought was The Amazing Spider-Man by David Michelinie and Todd McFarlane. I also bought back issues of The Incredible Hulk by Peter David and Todd McFarlane. Yes, say what I will about him, but Todd was the one creator who really and truly got me into collecting comic books nearly 20 years ago.

Those early years were fun; buying up stuff that I liked, waiting every month for the next issue (and in the case of Amazing, once every two weeks, considering that it shipped fortnightly in the summertime).

As time went on, though, I still collected, but the sense of fun that I got out of it was gone, replaced instead by a growing need to just buy comics for all kinds of reasons that weren't necessarily connected to my enjoyment of the stories. It was subtle at first, but by 1998 I was buying comics featuring characters I couldn't really give a damn about because I'd read about it in Wizard or something like that. For a long stretch I bought Spider-Man's monthly because it was the only book featuring him, regardless of how disappointed I was by the content.

My meager collection of Spider-Mans had grown into several titles, mostly from Marvel but from a lot of other companies as well, only a few of which I liked enough to read more than once or twice after buying them. This trend continued into the new millenium at which point I was picking up comic books almost out of compulsion, with the exception of some titles that I truly enjoyed.

Last year, with the advent of Marvel's Civil War, it became clear to me that the landscape of the Marvel Universe would be radically changed for the next couple of years, which rather made me leery of what the future held. The last time Marvel made a promise like that, the Clone Saga of the 90s was born.

Not only that, but the first half of 2007 seems, from all indications, to be devoid of any creators whose work I follow on characters that I love. Mark Millar is apparently taking the year off, as is Steve McNiven. It seemed as good a time as any to just stop collecting for awhile, at least after all the miniseries I started last year have finished, and so I stopped picking up new titles.

I then got into buying diecast collectible cars, and in the process of doing so, came to a realization.

My toy car collection is small; I only have about 35 to 36 of them, as opposed to over 500 comic books that I have accumulated over the years, but there was one crucial aspect I noted about the collection that made me realize something about my comic book hoard.

For the most part, my car collection only consists of about three or four makes of car. They are mostly Shelby Cobras, Ford Mustangs, and other related cars such as the Shelby GR-1 and the Ford GT. There are a few Ferraris and a couple of Mercedes supercars as well, but overall, there is a consistency to it, a focus on collecting very specific types of cars that I hadn't known since my very first days of collecting comic books.

So I ended up asking myself why I had accumulated so many comic books, apart from the fact that quite a bit of time had lapsed since I started. Did I really like all of the stuff that I bought?

After going over most of them in my mind, I had to conclude that the answer was no.

And so I made the decision to sell a chunk of my collection. It's not because they are or aren't particularly collectible; it's not because I'm trying to cash in on speculation I might have made years ago. In fact, most of these things I'm selling pretty much at value, which puts me at a loss considering inflation. Some of them, I think, are actually pretty valuable but I'm not really trying to make any money off them. (Well, with the exception of the stuff I've put on e-Bay, which I'm selling at their value as stated in Wizard and other authorities on comic book prices. I figure: if someone's going to make money off these things' appreciation, it should be me first of all, and let the others recoup it should the issues continue to appreciate; but that's a relatively small segment of my collection.)

The point, really, is to reduce my collection to the stuff I'm really passionate about. I've always considered myself a selective comic book buyer, and I was therefore shocked to see how much stuff made it into my collection that I wasn't all that crazy about.

What am I keeping? Well, a good three-fourths of my collection will remain very much intact even if all my hoped deals push through. I'm not just keeping the well-worn, newsprint 80s comics that started my collection but a whole bunch of other things as well, stuff I really got into, like the first two years of J. Michael Straczynski's Amazing Spider-Man run or Mark Millar's Spider-Man series, or Frank Miller's The Man Without Fear miniseries. Memorable stuff.

I honestly hope to be able to sell everything I've set out to sell, not so much because I could use the space or the cash (although of course both are most welcome) but I'd rather these comic books find a home with someone who can truly embrace them, someone to whose collection they won't feel like unwanted flab.

My toy car collection is a joy to me because just about everything in it is something I really and truly wanted to buy. I want my comic collection to feel that way again, too.

List of Comics For Sale

Well, as of writing, many of the comics I was offering for sale are now spoken for, but there are still a few good ones left over that I'm offering. These are books that are going on ebay (at quoted prices), but which I'm willing to part with before then if someone makes me an offer I can't refuse...

In no particular order, they are:

Aria #s 1-4. Price: P500

(For the uninitiated, Aria is basically the story of Kildare, a thousand-year-old daughter of the Faerie, a race of immortals that traces their history to the beginning of time or something like that, and is based in England. It's basically a fantasy comic set in contemporary times, with a really, really hot (thanks to ultra-detailed Filipino penciler Jay Anacleto) girl as the lead character.Think Sandman but with boobs. Big ones).

Aria/Angela #s 1 and 2. Price: P200

Kildare of Aria teams up with Angela (from the pages of Spawn) to take down a mystical charlatan terrorizing England, or something like that.

Death: The Time of Your Life #s 1 to 3 (with a bonus: the last issue of Death: The High Cost of Living). Price: P450

This is a complete miniseries (except for the bonus issue) and a sequel to High Cost of Living. It features Neil Gaiman's signature gothette in a rather touching story rendered by artists Chris Bachalo and Mark Buckingham.

Batman #s 608, 610, 612-619. (Individual issues priced differently depending on which character guest stars).

Completists may balk at my calling this the Hush storyline since I'm missing two issues, so I'm offering these as individual items (unless someone makes me an offer for all of them I can't refuse). Anyway, complete or not, these issues boast some of Jim Lee's best artwork. EVER. As always, writer Jeph Loeb panders to his artist (and the artist's legion of fans) by having Lee draw most of Batman's rogues gallery. Veeery nice.

Wolverine: Enemy of the State (issues #20-25). Price: P1000.

This is a complete six-issue set. It's Marvel's premier badass at his most brutal! With a story by Marvel wunderkind Mark Millar and mainstay John Romita Jr. Basically Wolverine gets possessed by the Hand and takes on S.H.I.E.L.D. and several high profile Marvel heroes, including his very own team, the X-Men. Blood and guts galore.

Astonishing X-Men #s 1 to 12. Price: P3000

In #12 issues writer Joss Whedon revitalizes Marvel's merry mutants (and one in particular) with two six-issue arcs lavishly drawn by John Cassaday (Planetary).

X-Men #s 1 to 7. Price: P1000.

Yes, that X-Men, the one by Chris Claremont and Jim Lee, featuring the first issue that sold 7 million copies. Very nice art.

Uncanny X-Men #s 284, 285 and 286. Price: P300

Three issues by Jim Lee (plot and some art) and Whilce Portacio (most of the art chores), scripted by John Byrne and Scott Lobdell. More or less a complete storyline.

Heroes Reborn: Iron Man #s 1-3 by Whilce Portacio Price: P400.

Pretty good, and with a movie on the horizon, these may even go up in value.

Spawns #8 and #9 Price: P300.

This was the time that Todd McFarlane had different writers take turns scripting the book. Issue #8 is by Alan Moore and issue #9, which features the first appearance of Angela, is by Neil Gaiman.

Wildcats #1s, 3, 4, 8, 9, 12, 13 and 36. (Bonus: Savage Dragon #12 by Jim Lee) Price: P600

Some nice Jim Lee art, and...

Wildcats #1-3 featuring VERY good art by Travis Charest. Price: P480.



I may add some more titles once I've put up my eBay store, and those wanting pictures will have to wait till I do. In case anyone's already interested I can meet up at Robinson's Galleria or SM Megamall or Shangri-La, after office hours of course, and with a whole days' advance notice. Cash on delivery, please; I won't ship to any provinces because I can't guarantee the condition of the comics if I do.

As stated before, my contact information is the following:

e-mail: apelspapa@yahoo.com (or apeltala@gmail.com)

cell: 0922-8036749

Comics For Sale

For anyone interested, I am planning to sell off some of my collection of comics, for which I have offically run out of space.

I'm selling a lot of these things at bargain prices (not all of them, mind you, especially the ones that have exponentially multiplied in value since I bought them, and which I will only sell to those really interested), lest I be accused of trying to scalp/speculate.

Here's a sampling of the stuff I'm putting up for sale:

Jim Lee's Batman: Hush

Other assorted Jim Lee/Image Comics (Wildcats, his two-issue run on Gen13, Divine Right)

the entire run of Todd McFarlane's Spider-Man (except for issues 3 and 4) (Bargain rates)

I'm also offering the X-Force/Spider-Man crossover (Bargain rates)

Todd McFarlane's Spawn issues 8 (written by Alan Moore) and 9 (written by Neil Gaiman, first appearance of Angela)

Generation X.

Several issues of Peter Parker: Spider Man (Bargain rates), a 1999 re-launch (including a rare sunburst variant cover). and some issues from the Amazing Spider-Man 1999 re-launch (pre-J. Michael Straczynski).

There's other stuff I'm not really putting up for sale but which I may be convinced to part with for the right price.

Anyone interested may contact me at 0922-8036749 or 4370024. For a more detailed listing e-mail me at apelspapa@yahoo.com and I'll send you the list and suggested prices.

Why the Tesla Roadster Represents the Future

I am a car fan. I wouldn't call myself a "nut" because that would connote that I know the ins and outs of cars. I know enough to distinguish electrical from fuel related problems, but I don't exactly know what to do about them. And I love collecting diecast cars (though I think that's been covered in just about every other post here for the last three weeks).

I love watching Formula One races. I love the adrenaline, the high-pitched whine of the V8 engines hurtling across the track.

All that said, I look forward to the day when internal combustion engines are phased out, or at the very, very least drastically reduced in production and use (phasing out, I think, is not something I'll see in my lifetime), and I think the Tesla roadster, the world's first electric performance car, is the vehicle to bring us closer to that day.

As anyone who's seen the documentary Who Killed the Electric Car? knows, in 1996 General Motors of America launched an electric car, dubbed the EV-1 (for electric vehicle, prosaically enough) in response to a legal mandate by the California state legislature that a certain percentage of their production line be emission-free. Through arm-twisting and intimidation that went all the way to Washington (if the film is to be believed), the Big Three car manufacturers and the Oil Giants basically put so much pressure on the State legislature that they eventually relented, amending their mandate to say that they would only require electric cars if there was a demand for them. Through manipulative marketing, the big three and particularly GM killed that demand. They sabotaged one of their own products because they thought it would hurt their bottom line.

Enter Tesla Motors (named for Nikolas Tesla, a scientist who made spectacular inroads in the use of electricity,) a company determined to make the world's first electric performance car.

Tesla's approach to making this car was a holistic one; it wasn't about just slapping an electric motor into an existing chassis; it was about engineering a brand new car from the ground up, and getting the best people in the business to do it. They did this absolutely right, hiring the Lotus engineers from Britain to basically design the bodywork and chassis, thereby guaranteeing a well-handling and visually stunning car. In addition, they hired a Formula One engineer (whose name escapes me to the point that I'm not even sure it was mentioned) to design their car's two-speed transmission.

The results speak for themselves: the car generates about 250 bhp and apparently very high torque, a top speed of 130 mph (which is electronically limited), and the clincher a 0-60 mph accelaration of 4 seconds. That's supercar territory, faster than most Lamborghinis.

Oh, yes, there is the bit about it getting something like the equivalent of 135 miles to the gallon, which is something no existing supercar could possibly do in its maker's wildest dreams.

Thus far Tesla has sold the first hundred of these at a hundred grand a pop.

It may seem strange to sing praises of a car that I'll probably never get to drive, much less buy, but I think it's an important step towards adopting a truly cleaner and greener lifestyle (which won't come a moment too soon considering global warming is hitting us hard this year with the projected weather being the hottest in over a decade).

I know that, despite its limited numbers, the Tesla will succeed where the EV-1 failed, for a number of reasons, the most important one being that it is made by a company that wholeheartedly believes in it, not one which made one begrudgingly, out of a sense of obligation, and it is from this that all other reasons are derived.

The second reason (a derivative of the first) is that this car is unbelievably sexy. Any sports car fan knows that Lotus knows its sports cars, from the legendary Esprit to the more conservative Elise, the chassis and bodywork of which shares many elements with those of the Roadster. And SEX appeal is something electric or even hybrid cars have never had, especially the EV-1, which looked like a shitty 1950s Fiat. One can tell that Tesla wants this car to turn heads as much as GM wanted their EV-1 to have people averting their eyes. Selling cars these days, especially to sports car fans, is all about sex appeal, really. An engineer can design the most aerodynamic car imaginable, but if it isn't sexy, the execs at his car company will trash the whole thing, saying that it won't sell. GM knew this, and so does Tesla. The difference is what they do about it.

A third reason is that they're selling the damned things. GM only put its EV-1s up for lease, and even then the demand for it was insane. The way I see it, it doesn't matter whether you sell this car to millionaires or huddled masses. The important thing is that it gets out there, into the hands of a consumer that can own it.

In fact, selling them so exclusively, with the right spin, can have marvelous effects in the long run; the roadster can acquire the status previously only accorded to the most exotic of European sportscars. Rich people can buy them, making Tesla richer and driving the price of the technology down. The basic trickle down effect of all this, though it may take more than a couple of simple steps, will, down the road, really open people's eyes to a whole world of possibility.

I liken this effect to those that can stem from the fact that Audi came up with a diesel-powered car that won the 2006 24-hour Le Mans tournament for the first time in the history of the event. More than anything, this victory will really open up the possibility of mass-producing diesel engines for cars and not just for trucks, which is good considering that diesel engines are more receptive to cleaner biofuel than gas engines.

All that's needed is for magazines like Motor Trend to give this car the thumbs up, or to have auto-journalist icon Jeremy Clarkson declare how spectacular the Roadster is, and it's on its way to superstardom, taking the whole concept of the electric car along for the ride.

Of course, I'd be first in line if they suddenly came up with diecast models of this thing...

Check them out at www.teslamotors.com. Whether or not you're going to buy one, it warms the heart to know that the future looks this good.

A Rude Awakening

Joining a diecast forum, I figured it was all about sharing one's passion for his hobby with others similarly inclined. Of course, there are trades and deals and exchanges made, but I never figured someone would try to scalp me on the forum.

Well, somebody had a go at it, all right.

It was my fault, I suppose, for parading as my "sig" my two favorite diecast finds: my twin Shelby GR-1s, calling them "my greatest finds." Well, I was barely a week on the forum and somebody tried to peddle me a black GR-1, one of the two I don't yet have, saying "if you like, I can sell it to you for P300" which is basically what I paid for the first two cars.

I would have leapt at his offer, were it not for the fact that I almost immediately sensed that he had not paid that amount for the car he was trying to peddle, and was basically trying to make money off me.

I'm clearly not stingy when it comes to diecast; in less than a month I've spent what may be considered an unconscionable amount just acquiring the things, especially in view of the fact that I have two kids to take care of.

But the thought that even on this forum where everyone is clearly passionate about this hobby, someone would try to peddle something to me at what clearly seemed like more than what he paid for it (otherwise I really doubt he would have let me have it) just rattled me. It left me pissed off, more at myself than anyone else for wearing my heart out on my sleeve and being such an ostentatious jerk.

Of course I politely declined, more out of principle than anything else. The funny thing about it is I don't feel the slightest tinge of regret at having done so.

Incidentally, when Theia broached the sinister (and admittedly quite paranoid) possibility that this "seller," whom I didn't know from Adam, was nothing more than a charlatan posing as a collector who would stick me up as soon as we met, I smacked my head and said "I hadn't thought of that!" Well, it is the kind of thing one could expect after showing off his two cars and saying "does anyone have the black and red ones?"

Maybe the guy was the real item; maybe he wasn't. It doesn't really matter. I rather loathed the idea of paying even a peso more for that car than he did, but more than that, I hated the way he made the car sound so...disposable. "I have this but I'm not really interested because I'm into another line of cars, but you can have it for what you paid for the others (even if that's not what I paid for it)."

Most of all, I balked because the whole thing just went against the spirit of the hunt. As someone who trawled literally over thirty stores to find a Shelby Cobra, I didn't really feel like handing my money over to someone who sounded suspiciously like a scalper. I feel bad enough having bought two of those overpriced Hot Wheels Ferrari F430s.

God, I feel like such a fool. At least I changed my sig to something a little less showy (a nice 2005 Ford Mustang GT, with the text "stangs rule!") If anyone tries asking me how much I paid for the cars in the sig I'll just tell them all I had to do was sleep with the proprietress of the store...lest someone say "tell you what, why don't I give you mine for the same price?"

Things I Wish I Were, Part 2: Top Gear Journalists

In commemoration of this blog's 2nd anniversary, I've decided to revisit an old theme I touched upon in one of my earliest posts: what job would I like to have other than the one I have now? Meaning, if I wasn't a lawyer, what would I like to do? Back then the answer was "film reviewer" which was accompanied by a long rant about the people I felt got paid too well and got too much exposure for what I essentially felt was a job anyone with half a brain (or my brain, anyway) could do.

This post will be different in that while I have utmost respect for the people who actually have this job, I STILL WANT IT!!! These three gentlemen would Richard Hammond, James May and Jeremy Clarkson, the hosts of "Top Gear."

Back when I used to know this show's schedule, I followed it religiously. It was, at a time, absolutely my favorite show and one of the very few things I even watched on TV next to the Formula One races and the odd sitcom now and again. I haven't been able to follow it for many years now, but was gratified rather recently to see many, many of the reviews that I'd missed on youtube.com. God, but I love that show and intend to start following it again.

It's not the sight of a bunch of guys driving the wheels off some of the most extraordinary automotive machinery ever built (though in some cases, the cars can be quite ordinary, as this show is something of a consumer-guide) that makes this show such a joy for me. It's the acerbic wit that accompanies their every drive. Each and every tour of duty is accompanied by remarks, whether good or bad, which are quintessentially and uniquely British. Forget Simon Cowell, these Brit critics are in a league of their own. This is a show that simply will not translate in any other culture, and attempts to do so (such as the local 'Top Gear' magazine) are absolutely laughable.

Do I think I could do their job? Could I possibly carry the wit and the verve that they pump into just about each and every test drive, while hurtling along at 150 miles per hour? If I tried hard enough to burst some blood vessels in my brain, I might (and provided I was able to write my stuff beforehand, because I don't really know how they do it), but whether or not I could do their jobs as well as they do I still nonetheless want them, because in many ways driving these cars on Top Gear is even better than owning them. How so?

Well, on the show, these gentlemen get to drive these cars, whether they are performance cars or street cars, to the absolute limit under the best possible conditions. Sometimes they drive them through airfields, sometimes along racetracks, sometimes along winding country roads, but in every instance, they appear to have the roads all to themselves. Any millionaire who's had to plod his Ferrari through rush hour traffic would probably love to be able to do this. They don't have to pay for the gas used up, or the wear-and-tear that their exertions on the car inevitably exact. They do get paid to drive to the limit and just, well, talk about it, sometimes while they're driving. It's all the fun of driving a performance car with none of the headaches! (Though of course I'm sure they're not allowed to crash the car, even some of them have on occasion).

I'm happy driving my weenie little Kia Pride to and from work day in and day out, and to the mall or some other getaway on weekends, but given the chance I would absolutely leap at the opportunity to drive all sorts of cars, and talk about the experience of driving them, for a living.

Happy Anniversary!

This blog turned two years old yesterday. Wow, how time flies! I've covered lots of ground in this blog: politics, movies, comics, life, love and now my latest thing, diecast cars. All things considered, my posts have been pretty hobby-heavy, with comics taking up a good percentage of the posts and now my current hobby doing the same. I guess I should probably diversify, though I've already opened a brand new blog, kidztuff.blogspot (kidstuff was taken) just to share anecdotes about my kids and possibly preserve them online for posterity (at least until blogger goes offline, which I hope is never). And well, heck, this is my blog. I don't have any particular train of thought impelling this post, so I'll just jot down some random thoughts:

I am fighting the urge to head back to my Greenhills nook and buy something again. It hasn't even been a month since Christmas day, when this all began, and yet I've spent a small fortune on diecast cars. I won't go into specifics, but suffice it to say that at the height of my comics collecting, I didn't spend as much on comic books in six months as I have spent in the last four weeks. I've gone from enthusiastic to excessive to prodigal in practically no time at all. While this hobby is certainly engaging, it's simply got to go on hiatus for awhile.My hands are trembling.

There's some buzz in the F1 fan community about the launch of the 2007 cars and driver line-ups. The first race of the calendar, the Australian Grand Prix, is still a good two months away but people are already getting excited. I launched another blog devoted to F1, jimarroyosf1.blogspot, but all things considered maybe I'll just scrub it and post my f1 thoughts here, if only to add variety to the things I talk about. I don't know. Reigning world champion Fernando Alonso made quite a splash with his new look for his new team: white-and-red Mclaren overalls and a new buzz-cut in contrast to his blue -and-yellow Renault jumpsuit and long hair. Ferrari staged a relatively low-key launch for their 2007 car, but most of the other major teams, including world champion Renault, have yet to officially unveil their cars for the year. I won't make any predictions just yet but the first Michael Schumacher-less F1 year in over 16 years looks like it's gonna be a doozy.

The reports that one of Abu Sayyaf's top people is dead may come as a relief to some, but to those of us who know that where there is poverty there will always be brigands of one form or another it's just another dead body. Still, one has to congratulate the normally sensationalist, doom-and-gloom media for actually putting something positive in the headlines for a change.

The weather's a little chilly these days; truly the January and February chill are upon us. These are easily the coldest months in our calendar and it doesn't look like 2007 is going to be any exception.


Okay, enough soundbites. They're giving me a headache. Time to get back to work.