And I saw it.

Honestly, I have no problem with Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. It is exactly what it's supposed to be: a movie based on a line of plastic dolls, in which trucks turn into robots and vice versa and shit blows up for 150 minutes and sometimes Megan Fox's boobs do things in slow motion. Mission fucking accomplished. This might be the only film franchise for which Michael Bay is absolutely, preternaturally suited. I am not even mad.

You can read the whole review—and maybe answer some of my questions—HERE.

Because you can't go to SIFF every single night of the festival, I'd like to recommend you watch the 1968 film Danger: Diabolik on DVD tonight. Adapted from Italian comic books, Diabolik is the story of the anti-James Bond: a master criminal who continually pulls off daring and dangerous heists to keep funding his lifestyle, and he'll murder anyone who gets in his way. Unlike Bond, this thief seems to be in a sexy monogamous relationship: Over the course of the film, it seems that Diabolik is stealing gems, gold, and cash to keep his leggy blond girlfriend happy.

Besides the Ennio Morricone score (which often sounds like a classic Bollywood riff), director Mario Bava the other compelling reason to watch Danger: Diabolik. Bava is best known for his gory Italian horror films, but here he makes a comic book movie with a whole lot of propulsive style. The special effects are almost entirely great, and the cinematography is both wildly experimental and beautiful. It's one of the best comic book movies I've ever seen. The fact that it wound up as the last movie to be mocked by Mystery Science Theater 3000 doesn't make it something cheap and cheesy, just very much a product of its time.

And I think it's one of the few good movies I've ever seen that made me really hungry for a remake. I don't know why Diabolik isn't a recurring film character, just like James Bond. A new Diabolik series starring Clive Owen—Ocean's Eleven meets 007, with just a little Batman thrown in—would be one of those blockbuster films that manages to charm everyone.

Here's the trailer, but I have to warn you that the last minute or so of the trailer completely shows you the ending of the film—as in, you get a condensed version of the last fifteen minutes of the movie in the trailer—so if you think you're ever going to watch Danger: Diabolik, I'd recommend only watching the first half.

Now that's a movie.

(In less welcome movie news, they're apparently making a prequel to Alien.)

Topless Robot just posted this French Batman fan film that has sex and violence and swears:

This thing leaves me scratching my head. I know there's a pretty potent fan culture in France (like those people who made the Green Hornet fan film, which I've posted after the jump for those who haven't seen it before), but why would you make a fan film if you're going to completely fuck up the source material? Isn't the basic, secret idea behind any fan film the hope that maybe the film will be so good that you'll get hired to make a real movie? I can't imagine DC Comics doing anything but slapping a giant cease-and-desist order on these guys.

Speaking of weird fannish impulses, this week's most NSFW use of giant novelty Mickey Mouse gloves has to be over at Way to Suck That Dick.

Drew McWeeny points out that Jar-Jar Binks has just turned ten years old. (That awful, awful Star Wars prequel is now one decade old!) He uses this dark anniversary to make a case that is, in his graduate-of-Ain't-It-Cool-News kind of way, very succinctly put:

...prequels are a narrative dead end. Period.

Please. Please. Please.

Stop giving geeks what they ask for.

"I want the Clone Wars!"

No. No, you don't.

You think you do. But you don't.

"I want the Terminator Future War!"

Again... no. You really, really don't.

It's Pavlovian. You're watching some good science-fiction movie you love and they mention "attack ships on fire off the belt of Orion" or some such thing... like "You're older than the Zarkon Battlefields," and you end up liking the movie a lot, so you end up watching the movie a lot because that's what geeks do. And by the 43rd time watching it, and half-watching it, and watching it with friends while talking, and wallpaper-watching it, you hear that line again... "You're older than the Zarkon Battlefields"... and you think in passing, "Man, I'd like to see the Zarkon Battlefields." And then it becomes a thing, an itch you feel like you need to scratch.

No. No, you don't.

I haven't been reading McWeeny's new website up until now, but I'm going to start paying attention. It's a really smart essay (again, especially for someone who used to post on Ain't It Cool News all the time) and you should read it all.

I promise this is the nerdiest thing I will post all day. Somebody has J.J. Abrams-ized classic Star Trek:

And someone else has written copious notes about how well the new Trek movie fits into the old continuity.

(Via.)

To: Erica
From: Alex
Subject: I don't suppose you'd want to see Star Trek with me?

Tonight at 7?

A couple nights ago, at the urging of a friend I hadn't hung out with in a while, I watched X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Taking Jonah Spangenthal-Lee's advice, I had three beers beforehand. Unfortunately, it was still very, very bad. Jen Graves' review is spot-on. The movie doesn't make sense, especially if you don't read the comics. (One thing I'm surprised no critic has written an entire review about: Why is everyone in the world not talking about how bad of an actor Will.i.am is? Because he's maybe one of the worst actors I've ever seen in a Hollywood movie.) There was no point to almost any of the characters in this film—for instance, why did Gambit need to be in this movie? To add a ten minute, poorly produced fight sequence? Why bother to make that strong guy character into The Blob from the comic books? He's nothing like The Blob, except for he's fat (Which is hilarious, right? Ha!)

There's a comment by NervousNell on Jen's review that reads (emphasis mine):

So many characters were portrayed nicely enough that it made me happy. I mean... it's awesome enough that they had Deadpool in there.

And this is what makes me sad. Dear fellow nerds: We really live in a golden age for nerd movies. (Trust me: Star Trek. Yes.) We don't have to accept this shit anymore. Just because Ryan Reynolds' character was referred to as "Deadpool" doesn't make him the Deadpool from the comic books. He didn't have the right powers, history, or characterization. Is naming a character after a completely different comic book character really all it takes to make you happy?

True, Hugh Jackman was fine as Wolverine. But everything else about the movie is just a complete mess. And, worst of all for a summer comic book movie, it looks cheap. Wolverine's claws were half-assed, for one thing. Some of the SFX looked unfinished. And worse than all that, the plot didn't make any sense. We've got to be able to do better than this. Movies can be smart and sexy and funny and action packed (Again, Star Trek.) It's not our job to tolerate this crap just because we're nerds. We should be as discerning with our movies as we are with all of our other entertainment.

All of which is basically just preamble to the following statement: If I am ever for some reason in your house, in the far-flung future, and I see that you bought the DVD version of X-Men Origins: Wolverine, I will vomit on your brand-new rug.

Jen Graves is one of my favorite writers, because her writing always surprises me. I'm currently in love with her review of Wolverine: Origins:

Several points must be made right up front for the record, and they are that being good with a gun, sword, or baton is not a mutation, and that being able to do kung-fu moves all through the air is not a mutation, and that putting a finger to your temple, squeezing your eyes shut, and making whatever's bothering you stop bothering you is not a mutation unless just getting your way is a mutation. Some skills? Just human skills. A human is amazing with a baton!

It's a great paragraph, and the sentence that ends this paragraph—"Humans are the best species out there at kung fu!"—is currently my favorite sentence in the English language. I can picture scientists trying to quantitatively prove this fact. (Those poor kung fu-trained gerbils never stood a chance.) So when Topless Robot runs this video of a Wolverine-loving nerd with way too much time on his hands:

Instead of making me worry about this guy going out in public with his claws and injuring someone, this video makes me think of Jen Graves' review of Wolverine and I giggle instead. Thank you, Jen Graves.