Not being a big Tim Allen fan, I skipped over Galaxy Quest when it hit theaters in 1999. I didn’t give it a second thought until someone whose taste I generally trust started raving about the film a few weeks ago. With great trepidation I put it on my Netflix queue (currently coming in at 248 DVDs) and bumped it to the top.

Our story: The fictional TV series Galaxy Quest (a Star Trek stand in) has been off the air for 18 years, and the stars (below) long for an end to their degrading public appearances at conventions and store openings. At the same time, a group of aliens has intercepted reruns of the show and think it’s real. The Thermians have reordered their society using Galaxy Quest as a blueprint. (They also think Gilligan’s Island was real.) When another alien species threatens to exterminate them, they turn to the crew of the NSEA Protector for help.

Galaxy Quest surprised me with its seamless blend of sci-fi show clichés, slapstick humor, and even genuine dramatic tension from time to time. Tim Allen played none other than Tim Allen (as usual), but the attitude worked for this character. I loved Sigourney Weaver’s token woman whose job was to show cleavage and repeat what the computer said.

About the only thing missing from the TV show within the movie was a cute little robot. I suppose the ship’s pilot, 10-year-old Tommy Webber will have to do. (Aside: That’s a young Corbin Bleu of High School Musical fame playing young Tommy.)

The aliens were well done. Near clones at first glance, each of the Thermians (above) had a quirk or two to make them individuals. Enrico Colantoni was somehow able to give the Thermian leader a tragic quality even when he was doing the funny voice. (Another aside: That’s a young(er) Rainn Wilson as one of the Thermians. He disappears halfway through the film, which I probably wouldn’t have noticed before The Office (USA) hit the air.)

Special and visual effects were top notch too. Sarris, the main baddie (down there in the green) looks like he was plucked right out of Star Trek, and in a good way. There’s also a scene on a planet with hundreds of CGI alien children. Considering that Galaxy Quest was made in 1999, they were astonishingly lifelike. Kudos to the tech crew.

Galaxy Quest did a good job of skewering Star Trek and Star Trek fandom, but there were way too women at the convention. Otherwise, well done. I had to chuckle at the parts of the ship that made no sense whatsoever. The wall of flame at the end of the hall of smashing things that served no purpose was inspired.

All in all, a surprisingly good film. It had a depth that I didn’t expect. Now somebody do me a favor and watch out for other Tim Allen movies that aren’t terrible. I won’t be holding my breath, but as you can see, I’ve been wrong before.

Spamalot came to town a few weeks ago, so I went with a few friends. We had a lot of fun, and I returned with the following thoughts:

1. $85 is way too much for a ticket in the BACK ROW. I was directly in front of the sound guy, and he got paid to be there.
2. The Victoria Theater in Dayton is a nice facility in a bad neighborhood.
3. Spamalot was a bit derivative for my tastes. The best parts were ones that didn’t come from a Monty Python movie.
4. Esther Stilwell got pipes, son. I’d see it again just for her performance as the Lady of the Lake.
5. Jabs at Broadway musicals can only take a story so far.
6. That said, the song Whatever Happened to My Part (sung by Ms. Stilwell) is well written.
7. Someone named Lancelot turning out to be gay is genuinely funny.
8. The guy playing Lancelot (Patrick Heusinger) is easy on the eyes in a Nordic kind of way, so that helped too.
9. Audience participation shouldn’t be permitted in a professional show.
10. People are too eager to give standing ovations. It was good, but it wasn’t that good.

Dear That One Cashier Who Always Calls Me Honey,

Please stop it. Same goes for Sweetie, Darlin’, and Baby. I’m not asking you to call me Sir or anything, but you’re being a bit familiar, don’t you think?

Let me be blunt: This isn’t [cref 142 Al's Diner], and you ain’t Flo. It wouldn’t bother me as much (not at all, really) if you didn’t do it so poorly. See, those kind of cutesy nicknames work only when you use them sparingly. Here’s a sample of your standard patter:

You: Did you have gas, Honey?
Me: No.
You: Is that all, Darlin’?
Me: Yes, that’s it.
You: Thanks, Babe.
Me: . . .

And you do that with EVERY CUSTOMER! Seriously, after awhile, we all figured out that this wasn’t some friendly appellation Just For Me.

In closing, I renew my request. Stop it. You demean us both by continuing.

Not your Ragtime Gal,
Matt

It’s Children’s Book Week! To celebrate, I’m reviewing American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang. It’s more correctly in the age group of “Young People” literature, but it’s my blog and I make the rules. So there. Note: Click on the images for (slightly) larger versions. For bigger versions still, go buy the book.

American Born Chinese is recognized as not just a great graphic book (“comic book” doesn’t quite fit it), but in the literary world as well. It was a finalist for the 2006 National Book Award in the category of Young People’s Literature, and the recipient of the prestigious Michael L. Printz Award in 2007. For some reason, book awards are more meaningful than other media awards and this is no exception.

American Born Chinese tells three stories that are thematically unified but distinct from and compliment each other. Alternating chapters so you don’t get to the end of one story before you start another, the book is tightly woven together with a common thread that makes it all work. It’s hard to describe but easy to follow, and Yang pulls off well. There’s a massive twist at the end of one of the stories that I’m going to ATTEMPT not to give away. Let’s start with the first story. (These two pages are not in sequence.)

We begin with Jin Wang, a young boy with Chinese parents (the titular American Born Chinese) who learns how to deal with racism, both subtle and stark, after he moves to a predominately white area from San Fransisco’s Chinatown. As his teacher mispronounces his name and other kids make fun of him, Jin distances himself from the one Asian girl in his class and later, the Taiwanese boy (Wei-Chen Sun, above right) who moves to town. As Jin tries to integrate into the class, he makes changes that deny his heritage.

The rejection that Jin feels is present from page one of American Born Chinese and his decisions are childish. Interesting, though, that adults make the same mistakes. If I look and act like everybody else, we think, maybe they’ll accept me. In Jin’s case, he goes so far as to perm his hair like a popular white student’s. It looks silly on him, but his hope is that people will forget, or maybe not even notice, that he’s different.

The second story is a charming re-telling of an old Chinese story first told in Journey To the West by Wu Chen-en in the 1500s. Gene Luen Yang’s version focuses on the Monkey King, who is dissatisfied with being “just” the King of Flower Fruit Mountain. He masters twelve forms of kung-fu and learns the four major heavenly disciplines, thus achieving status of deity. Things get complicated when the Monkey King is kicked out of a dinner party in heaven. Eventually, he is visited by Tze-Yo-Tzuh (above) and things do not go well.

The Monkey King’s rejection is similar to Jin’s, but he has the power to force people (and other gods) to accept him. Yang leads the young readers (and us old guys) of American Born Chinese to explore the universal power fantasy, the “I’ll Make Them PAY” daydreams that Ralphie has in A Christmas Story. He shows us that even if you could beat others into submission, the ultimate good that must be achieved is for you to accept yourself as you are. Others’ acceptance is secondary.

Finally, we come to the Danny’s story. It’s offensive on purpose, running through the list of bad Asian stereotypes and a few good ones to boot. He comes to visit his cousin Danny, a blond-haired, blue-eyed High School student who, though he is an All-American type of guy, has to deal with the funny looks and mean-spirited jabs when his cousin Chin-Kee comes to town. Danny is just getting settled in his new school when Chin-Kee visits and ruins everything.

About the offensiveness of Chin-Kee’s story: Yang put it in there for a reason. One of the saving graces of Chin-Kee’s story is the running gag of the studio audience reaction at the bottom of the panels. It effectively pulls the offensiveness from being taken seriously and pushes it over into farce.

Danny’s afraid of people not accepting him, but not because of something in himself, but from an outside source. The lesson remains the same, though; hide from people, whether it’s your ethnicity, your family, or whatever else, and you’re in for trouble. Accept who you are and let the chips fall where they may, even if it means you might face negative consequences. It’s an important lesson that everyone need to hear.

There’s a line from near the end of American Born Chinese that I really want to quote here, but I can’t because it would give everything away. I’m betting that people who’ve read the book know which one I’m talking about, and when you read it, you’ll be able to pick it out too. It’s one sentence that has literally changed my life. I hope it has the same effect on you.

I sat down to watch Anchors Aweigh last Saturday, forgetting that I have to be in just the right frame of mind to watch a musical. There’s a really specific kind of suspension of disbelief that goes along with a musical and if I have trouble with that, the whole experience falls apart.

Anchors Aweigh is what I’d call a Kitchen Sink movie. It’s 2:20 long, and it has a little of everything in it. You want sexual innuendo? You got it. Cute little kids? Sure. Romantic love story? In spades. Guy dancing with a cartoon mouse in a castle where the cartoon animals aren’t allowed to have fun? That’s a bit specific, but what the heck.

It took me a bit to get into it but once I did, it was an enjoyable film. Short version of the plot: Two sailors deal with complications while trying to find romance (wink wink) on shore leave in sunny Hollywood.

Longer version: Our two sailors are Joe Brady (Gene Kelly) and Clarence Doolittle (Frank Sinatra), pictured above. After what must be recognized as just about the gayest scene in cinema ever, in which Kelly lounges on a table while sailors in their undershirts lean in and Sinatra’s face rests alarmingly close to Kelly’s bits and pieces, Doolittle asks Alpha-Male Joe to teach him how to be a ‘wolf’ with the ladies. (Sure, Clarence. The ladies. Now quit resting your head on his shoulder.) Hilarity ensues.

Kelly plays the role he seems to love; that of the jackass playboy whose hard exterior is melted by a woman’s love. He’s very good at the jackass part, I’ll give him that. It was a bit much in this film, though, what with him telling a girl’s perspective suitor that she’s a whore (in the song If You Knew Suzie) so the guy will leave and then being angry when she doesn’t swoon in gratitude.

Sinatra’s voice is impeccable in Anchors Aweigh. He performs several songs, including the mournful I Fall In Love Too Easily. Sinatra also attempts choreography with Gene Kelly, for which he should be commended, but nobody can keep up with Gene Kelly.

Kathryn Grayson (above) costars as Susan Abbott, the virginal romantic foil for the boys. She has a lovely voice, and gets to show it off several times. Assuming she was the one doing the singing voice, Grayson’s range is phenomenal, nearly Julie Andrews-esque, and showcased tremendously in her final number From The Heart Of A Lonely Poet.

I’m not totally sure, but I think Susan is supposed to be of Mexican heritage. Everything except her name and the color of her skin leads me to that conclusion, right down to the fantasy Zorro scene she has with Gene Kelly. It wouldn’t be the first time a studio tried to straddle the fence between inclusiveness and audience expectations, so I think I’m right.

José Iturbi heads up several musical numbers, and though I’m not sure why I’m supposed to know who he is, he’s very talented. The piano orchestra is a rare treat, and it uses the architecture of the Hollywood Bowl very well. The ending of Anchors Aweigh is telegraphed way in advance, to the point where I was almost surprised that there wasn’t a twist of some sort.

If this blog could have sound effects, this right here would be the place to have the record scratch. Look at that angelic boy up there. Isn’t he adorable? Now somebody tell me how in the name of Jumping Jehoshaphat that little boy grew up to be Dean Stockwell?!? That’s just … I wouldn’t have believed it.

Anyway, Stockwell is good in the role of Susan’s orphaned nephew Donald. Cute as a button and quick with a punchline, Donald heads up the Awwww department, kind of like Kelly heads up the jerkface department and Grayson heads up the woman department. (I’m not sure what department Sinatra is in, but man he has the world’s biggest ears!)

There’s a lot going on in Anchors Aweigh, and while some of it falls flat for me, other parts make up the difference. The music is varied and captivating, and the film ends with a good old fashioned happy ending for everybody. Who could hate that?