Mars Attacks Magic

 

If you can forget Tim Burton's awful Mars Attacks movie, you'll be able to embrace this utterly fantastic book that puts all the released and unreleased Mars Attacks trading cards into one volume

 

Like their recent book covering the first five sets of Garbage Pail Kids trading cards, Topps' Mars Attacks book gives full respect to what can only be described as glorious pop art, art so subversive, so dark, it redefined the form. It's a tribute to the brilliant artists who pumped bloody life into the concept.

 

I love the marriage of sci-fi horror and sexuality here. There is no more intoxicating marriage.

 In addition to the card sets, the book features slabs of art from Mars Attacks comic books, artists who took a shot at it, and wrappers from both the US and the UK.

 

As Mars is currently being explored by an unmanned rover, one can only hope something as exotic and terrifying as these beings is discovered. 

 

Inside the book, director Burton is quoted: "The original [Mars Attacks] cards were so beautiful. They were really pure, not campy. They had a lurid quality that I like."

Really, Tim? A lurid quality that you like? 

Then why didn't we see any of that lurid quality in your campy pile of shit that decimated the spirit of the original cards?

 

 The good news is: The cards still exist in their original form. Mars Attacks still lives. Camp-face Burton can't touch them.

If you love the Mars Attacks concept as much as I do, add this treasure to your shelf.

And add this, too:

Apeshit Over Apes

In the mid-70's, my brother Colin and I collected Planet of the Apes trading cards. We both bought the View-master version of the movie, and we exchanged punches over who was going to get the last 'General Ursus' doll at Frank's Toy's, our local toy emporium. We got up every Saturday morning and watched Return to the Planet of the Apes (the cartoon) while leafing through Apes comics, we recorded the show's theme music and played it loud and often (true rebellion!), and when Battle for the Planet of the Apes got released and quickly paired with Ralph Bakshi's Wizards, I skipped school twice to see it. It wasn't even good!

Bottom line: We did everything to fill the fill the house with Apes back then. Apes were better than parents, better than teachers, and much better than stupid sisters. 

I saw the original Conquest of the Planet of the Apes with my dad. My mum wouldn't go near the fuckin thing because it was too "far-fetched". Star Wars was too "far-fetched" for her, too. While I was sitting down one evening with a pile of homework, she entered my bedroom, paused, then told me that Star Wars couldn't happen." Hang on, she hadn't even seen the film. Where was her credibility? Despite that minor quibble, it seemed important to her that this fact was understood. Perhaps she'd already perceived my slide towards the Dark Side of the Force.

 Apparently, this will never happen! Spread the word.

 Before you say, it, I'll agree, science fiction was not, is not, my mother's bag. Never will be.

I enjoyed the original Conquest. Wait a minute -- enjoyed? You thought about nothing else for days, cunt, after you'd seen it, and you pissed everybody off with your Apes obsession! OK, OK, I went apeshit over the film. Loved the red ape suits and the contemporary setting, loved the violent gorillas (their violent ignorance was inspirational!), and tapped my oversized toes to Jerry Goldsmith's rich, percussive score. Beyond that, I just wanted it all to be real. I lived in Mt. Waverley, Melbourne, Australia, for Chrissakes, we never got anything like ape action there.

As much as it now pains me to say it, I loved Roddy McDowell as 'Ceasar'.  Little did I know that Roddy would one day be very rude to me at a Fangoria convention. I forgive him for that now (today!) because there's no benefit holding a grudge for over twenty-two years, is there? But, yes, you were a cunt to a young fan, Roddy, but that's OK because I loved you as a giant chimp.

 Roddy prepares to give me an earful of bile at a Fangoria convention.

Pal, you were great in Class of 1984, too, and you were decent in The Fantastic Journey TV show, and very good in It, that Golem rip-off. For what it's worth to you in the ground wherever that may be, my mum liked you in the original Lassie. If you'd been rude to her, she wouldn't have been as forgiving as me. Clearly Lassie's brutal journey home to Elizabeth Taylor wasn't too far-fetched for the woman I called  "mum" (and variations of when she wasn't listening).

 

  
If only my little hometown of Mt. Waverley had hosted "awesome spectacles" like simian rampages.

The best we got was a puppet show in the Safeway parking lot.

Like most people, I'd like to forget Tim Burton's attempt to do an Apes film. Let's pretend it never happened. I'm sure Mark Wahlberg is fine with that.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes made this Apes fan very happy. It is a remake of Conquest, but it's very much its own movie, and it takes the themes presented in Conquest and develops them in imaginative ways. The best thing is its script. It's encouraging when a studio (Fox) allows a Summer film to have intelligence. Although the trailer makes it look like The Bourne Identity with hairy paws, it's far from that.

Almost three-quarters of the movie is focused on one ape, 'Ceasar' (Andy Serkis), and his development as a thinking, distrustful, intelligent being with the capacity to rule. His growth and maturity process is extremely well handled, and never does the film become a display of dazzling special effects (like a certain Michael Bay franchise). The effects work, by Weta Digital,  is beyond dazzling for its realism, but the story and characters always come first, and much emotion is derived from Ceasar's inevitable separation from his human supporter

Just as Ceasar embraces his destiny at the conclusion of Rise of the Planet of the Apes, I heartily embrace this movie. Now to find the View-master version. That will be ace!

Gold!

***

In the original Planet of the Apes, the intelligent orangutan, 'Dr. Zaius', was played by actor Maurice 

Evans. In Rise, the intelligent oranguatan is named Maurice. I like that.

Is Burton's "Genius" In The Rabbit Hole?

Is it Hayao Miyazaki's Alice in Wonderland or Tim Burton's? I'm confused. I just watched the Alice teaser trailer and I could have sworn that Cheshire cat is the same one piloting the cat bus in My Neighbor Totoro.

Spirited Away pops up, too. Burton's interior stylings of a large palace (or perhaps it's a mansion) are pure Miyazaki, as is the way in which the location is shot and cut.

I have only ever loved one Burton movie and that is Ed Wood. Ed Wood is a fantastic film to me, a perfect film about a fascinating individual. The script got it to the finishing line, not Burton's flat direction.

The rest of his movies are overrated bores. Rudderless shit marketed as rolled gold to easily satisfied morons. He ruined Willy Wonka. He fucked Planet of the Apes. Sleepy Hollow was a snoozefest. I despised Beetlejuice, was rocked to sleep by Big Fish, and enjoyed Big Top Pee Wee once because I was off my collective face. My second viewing ended in -- that's right -- more sleep. Edward Scissorhands? Great idea for a half hour short subject. As a full length feature, it sucked giant elephant dicks.

Lucky for Burton, he has great production designers, cinematographers, and musicians propping up his miserably limited talent. Most of the world has bought into his "genius", a "genius" that managed to destroy Willy Wonka and Planet of the Apes. How could anybody let that happen? Didn't he see the train rushing towards the giant anvil on the tracks of those unmitigated disasters?

So what's his problem? Easy. He's a visual guy. He gets a boner creating pretty, expensive, sumptuous visuals. And that's where it ends.

Give him ten thousand bucks and he couldn't put on a finger puppet play.

The guy, who looks terribly eccentric (so he must brilliant!) has no sense of pace (see Batman, which he also turned into a bore), no ability to improve upon a story (how could he possibly let the writers of Planet of the Apes and Willy destroy proven premises?), and zero knowledge of dramatic structure (again, see Batman, Willy, and Mars Attacks).

I'm man enough to concede that Sweeney Todd - The Demon Barber of Fleet Street was good (not great) because the source material was strong, as was Ed Wood's. Personally, I just loathe musicals and all that gratuitous, gaytard singing.

So, two good films in thirteen years from a bloke who has been given lots of opportunities and money and resources to get it right? That's impressive?

A strike rate like that is no indicator of genius. Thank Christ the prick isn't building space shuttles.

The better movies he is often credited with directing (Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline) weren't directed by him at all.

Will I see Alice in Wonderland?

Sure. Because I'm sick. And I'm a psychotic optimist. There is a slim chance that he'll pull a rabbit out of his hat (no pun intended) before the next thirteen year block expires. I won't hold my breath, though.

I'll see it mostly because I love the book, and I love little people. There will be little people in it, right? Just as there were in The Sinful Dwarf, Terror of Tiny Town, All Dwarves Started Small, The Tin Drum, and Freaks.

The film will be advertised like it's God and millions of idiots will confuse advertising saturation with universal canonization of its director, star, and content.

I'm much more excited about seeing Miyazaki's Ponyo when it opens in August. His batting average smashes Burton right out of the ball park. That's because he really is a "genius".