Filmboy Turns Three . . . And Celebrates By Actually Writing a Column!

Filmboy Returns and Rehashes the Summer of 2002

I’m back!

Yes, it’s been several months since I last penned a review for this column, but I have finally returned to “The Adventures of Filmboy” on this, its third birthday. Why did I leave? Where did I go? Allow me to explain.

First off, let me tell you what didn’t happen. The trauma of enduring Kevin Costner in “Dragonfly” did not send me on a downward spiral. I wasn’t inspired to undertake a journey of self-discovery by the DVD release of “Better Off Dead.” You’re not going to find any dark tales of misery and woe or encouraging stories of strength and renewal. I didn’t lose or find myself. I just had one crazy summer.

Things got really busy around May. My day job was getting increasingly demanding. Yes, I work for a living. Hard to believe, but true. Plus, there were all kinds of stuff in my personal life that demanded my attention. Again, I do have a life beyond this website. Honest. Basically, I had a lot of balls in the air and started dropping a few.

Thanks to the support of my fellow Stomp Tokyoans, I was able to take a few months off, get some stuff done and recharge my batteries. A big round of applause goes to Dangerous Dave Kozik, who filled this page in my absence. Otherwise, you’d all still be staring at a review of “40 Days and 40 Nights.” Oh, the horror!

But seriously . . . Dave, thanks for keeping the home fires burning. You were a big help in supplying fresh reviews during this summer, the peak season for us cinephiles. I’m hoping you’ll come back again when my schedule gets tight and I find myself sucking my thumb while curled in a fetal position under my desk. WHAT? We all handle stress differently. STOP LOOKING AT ME!

Excuse me, I lost it for a second there. Where was I? Oh yes, so now I’m back to doing what I do best . . . what’s that? Okay, second best. Third? Oh, who asked YOU? I’ve returned to this column no wonder what you think. Before you start emailing that you knew what I did last summer . . . and it wasn’t writing reviews, let me share with you my thoughts on the Summer of 2002.

Okay, the Summer of 2002? Well, it didn’t suck, but man, it could have been a lot better. Compare it with the Summer of 1999, the year that I started writing this column. There are some amazing similarities. We had a Star Wars movie, an Austin Powers sequel, and a thriller from M. Knight Shyamalan. Plus, it was hot, people played baseball, went on vacation and roasted weenies. Geez, they’re practically identical!

I had high hopes for this summer because frankly every one since 1999 has been pretty disappointing. There have been some good movies, but few genuine classics. But unlike the others, this summer had true potential. Some really heavy hitters were on deck and sporting heat. Lucas. Spielberg. Cruise. Hanks. Ford. Scooby Doo. Unfortunately, a lot of them failed to live up to expectations. There were some awesome movies, but more often than not, I left the theater wanting more. Even flicks I enjoyed still made me think, “Is that it?”

Few movies generated that pure unadulterated film geek orgasm you’re supposed to experience during this special time of year. However, I assembled a few words about the flicks that I felt came close. Some even delivered major movie mojo. Read on and judge for yourself.

Spider-Man

Filmboy's rating: 5 popcorns

While I loved “Spider-Man,” its success was probably key to the demise of this incredibly smart and efficient film. Too many people were watching a CGI superhero cling to walls instead of catching a desperate Al Pacino pursue creepy Robin Williams across a bleak Alaskan landscape. It’s rare to find a film where actors, director, script and setting compliment each other so beautifully. Director Christopher Nolan follows up the delightful head-scratcher “Memento” with a satisfying tale of a sleepless big city detective chasing a killer and his own troubled conscience. Nolan uses the eternal daylight of the Alaskan summer to greatly illuminate this story of murder, paranoia and redemption.

Superstar Director Steven Spielberg and his megawatt leading man Tom Cruise deliver a riveting sci-fi thriller that’s more Dashiell Hammett than Isaac Asimov . . . or Phillip K. Dick, to be exact. Cruise plays a cop in near future Washington DC where psychic predictions have murderers put away before they commit any crimes. When the “pre-cogs” nail Cruise as a potential shooter, he goes on the run to prove his innocence (or prevent his guilt). Spielberg and writer Scott Frank wisely keep most of the futuristic flash in the background and focus instead on the cat and mouse game between Cruise and his nemesis, natty Fed Colin Farrell. Chases, double-crosses, revelations, and cool spider robot thingies highlight this flick Ð the most gritty and sublime depiction of the future since Ridley Scott’s “Blade Runner.”

Sitcom Princess Jennifer Aniston breaks through the glass ceiling with a subtle and noteworthy performance in this oddball little film. She plays Justine Last Ð a Texas rose wilting in a dead-end marriage and a dismal retail job. Aniston is both sad and passionate as a young woman being true to herself after compromising for far too long. She is more than ably supported by a scruffy gang of scene-stealers, including Jake Gyllenhaal, John C. Reilly, Tim Blake Nelson, Zooey Deschannel, and Mike White (who also wrote the screenplay). An experienced ensemble player, Aniston gives each of her co-stars a moment to shine, and becomes a movie star in the process.

When it comes to summer viewing, low expectations can reap big rewards. When I took my nine year-old niece to see this flick, I hoped for nothing more than 90 minutes of cute chicks in skimpy bathing suits. I hunkered down with my popcorn prepared for bad dialogue, cheesy acting, and an onslaught of MTV style camera tricks. Nothing beats the rush of being surprised by a movie. Newcomer Kate Bosworth has true star potential as the lead surf chick in this breezy, enjoyable blast of summer fun. The three female leads (including badass Michelle Rodriguez) have an easy chemistry and the film’s “girl power” message stays consistent throughout. While there is more than a fair share of eye candy, the surfing footage is phenomenal. A good time was had by all.

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I’m sure you have your own list of the “Best of Summer 2002,” but these were the flicks that pushed my buttons during the dog days. I do have one addition, however, if my list is truly an accurate line-up of the best things I saw this summer. This particular image didn’t flicker by on a movie screen, but it’s certainly the most memorable of my last few months . . . and my entire life.

The best thing I saw this summer was the look on my girlfriend’s face when I asked her to marry me. Even better was her answer. She agreed to be my movie date for the rest of our lives. We’re getting married this January on the fourth anniversary of our first date. We went to a movie. I’m a lucky guy.

The coming months will probably be just as busy as the previous ones, what with getting married and all, but I promise to be back soon with new reviews. And special thanks to those curious few that emailed me during my absence. It’s nice to be missed.

Until next time, I’ll see you at the movies . . . and I will, sitting about two rows back, throwing Junior Mints at your head and making wounded cat noises.