Movie-Con III: Day 2

Yesterday left me feeling like I'd spent seven hours being run over by a 3D CGI steamroller driven by Trailer Voiceover Man. As much as I love trailers, it is possible to have too much of a good thing. It's also possible to have too much of an average thing, a category into which much of yesterday's footage neatly falls.

Before I get my grump on though, I should mention the goodie bags. There they were, waiting for us like packed stockings on Christmas morning, and - like packed stockings on Christmas morning - there were only really two great presents:

Not that I was ungrateful for the A-Team box set, the New Moon DVD, all the t-shirts or any of the other stuff. It'll all make great actual Christmas presents (except maybe the London Film Museum lanyard). But you can't beat Jelly Belly, and Bitch Slap, well, I'll enjoy finding out if you can beat that.

Anyway I saw so much footage and saw so many panels that I should only really tell you about the awful stuff and the great stuff. So:

The Awful Stuff

The teaser for Captain America is predictably abominable and abominably predictable. Stock WWII footage, some fancy graphics and a shot of Chris Evans in an embarrassingly bad costume that looks like he sewed it himself while drunk does not an appetite whet.

There was other awful stuff but I'm politely glossing over it in favour of:

The Great Stuff

My Cowboys And Aliensometer has returned to the "enthusiastic" position. Daniel Craig looks ace as a cowboy with his face hewn from Monument Valley rock, and Harrison Ford being old and cantankerous is exactly what the world needs right now. On yesterday's evidence this could be Jon Favreau's redemption for Iron Man 2.

Monsters, which I had lazily dismissed as a District 9 clone, might just be better than District 9. The stuff we saw included bonkers creatures and intimate character moments, but the highlight was a Q&A with writer / director / cinematographer / production designer / God knows what else Gareth Edwards, one of the most genuine, down-to-earth people to grace the Movie-Con stage. He was immediately likeable and I hope to Christ his film is good because he deserves to go far.



And I've already banged on about Buried, but watching the first eight minutes of the movie and then listening to its excitable, hilarious, self-deprecating director Rodrigo Cortés giggle with glee at how much shit he put Ryan Rodney Reynolds through to make this film just made me want to see it more.

Apart from all that, Chloe Moretz is a 30-year-old in a 13-year-old's body, Cary Elwes is a rogueish raconteur and Daniel Radcliffe is tiny and needs a haircut.

Then some guy proposed to his girlfriend on stage, everyone stood up to applaud, and in doing so I lost my pen and therefore failed to write anything else down, which I imagine comes as some relief.

Still more tomorrow!

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Pitchfork-Wielding Troglodytes

The new Harry Potter film, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, is out soon, and in preparation I’ve been enjoying a Harry Potterthon at my local cinema, the Joeyplex. I love the Harry Potter films, despite the fact that they’re all a bit rubbish. This is a problem for me because I don’t like admitting that I like rubbish things. I know I should stand my ground and fart in the faces of those who ridicule me, but that’s just too difficult, both mentally and anatomically.

The series has many faults, but there’s only room for me to whine about the two biggest ones before you wander off somewhere less negative. Firstly, it’s quite clear that nobody in the Harry Potter films can act, least of all Daniel Radcliffe (Harry) and Emma Watson (Hermione) – in fact she’s probably the worst actor I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Spiceworld: The Movie.

Secondly, like Roger Moore’s kisses in a Bond film, they’re waaaaaaay too long (but less capable of inducing a messy breakfast-reappearance). Goblet of Fire, the one with the tri-wizard tournament, is like a two-and-a-half hour edition of The Generation Game; the bits of it that matter could have been condensed into a five-minute pre-title sequence in the next film.

Having said that, the positives outweigh the negatives like Hagrid outweighs Dobby the house-elf. Harry Potter films are all about friendship, standing up for – and by – your mates, sticking two fingers up to the man once in a while, learning to listen to your elders occasionally and negotiating the treacherous terrain of teenage life, all of which resound deep in the lining of The Incredible Suit.

For these reasons I’m prepared to forgive the atrocious acting and long-winded storytelling because the Harry Potter films make me feel all warm and gooey inside, like somebody’s filled me up with cute sleepy puppies and crocheted blankets.

There’s some controversy these days over whether it’s socially acceptable to say that Emma Watson is actually quite fanciable (as long as she doesn’t speak), because if you say that out loud somebody will point out that she’s only eleven years old and before you know it you’re on the front page of the Daily Mail and your house has been burned down by pitchfork-wielding troglodytes. So it seems the answer is no, despite the fact that she is in fact 19 years old. I know because I visit her Wikipedia page quite often.

Anyway that chick who plays Ginny Weasley is much nicer.

See?