movie review: The Suicide Squad

 Okay, let's get this out of the way right now: "The Suicide Squad" is not--I repeat, NOT--a movie for kids.

Most movies based on comics try to entertain adults while also being watchable by their kids. (If you're one of the snobbish who automatically label these flicks "kid movies", you came to the wrong place.)

Not this one. We're talking about a sex scene, a moment of graphic nudity, and an overwhelming amount of graphic, graphic violence. I knew this going in, and it's nothing worse than I see on the various "Walking Dead" shows, but it still startled me. Maybe it's because I watch "Walking Dead" for the characters, and could happily do without the worst of the onscreen gore.

Okay, so that's out of the way. "The Suicide Squad" is a great movie, and if you can handle the gore I'd highly recommend it. Unless you're a movie snob.

 The idea behind the movie and it's kinda/sorta related previous version is that if you have a suicide mission, why risk beloved superheroes? Instead, the shady Task Force X recruits villains--mostly of the third rate variety. If they survive, they get decades taken off their sentences. If they try to run away, head of Task Force X Amanda Waller (Viola Davis, being suitably nasty), pushes a button and their head blows off.

We open with a team headed to a small island country, where they're dropped near the beach and things go immediately sideways. Then we got back in time, to see another team recruited at the same time, for the same mission: To destroy a top secret science project that's now in the hands of the island's new dictator.

Things go sideways for them, too, as happens on suicide missions. The survivors must face down the island's military to accomplish their job--which turns out to be something more than what they were told.

"The Suicide Squad" has, yes, those great effects and action, but if you're going to like the movie, it's for the characters. Here Idris Elba as reluctant leader Bloodsport, and Margot Robbie as the sanity-averse Harley Quinn, excel. Beyond that the heart of the movie comes from Daniela Melchior as Ratcatcher 2 (guess what her super power is?), and David Dastmalchian as--wait for it--Pokda-Dot Man. Both have their backstories explored enough to be sympathetic characters.

 

The Suicide Squads are made up of real DC Comics characters, but the third rate ones--the ones Robin could take down without Batman's help. As such, almost any of them could be killed off at any moment, and many are, so once we're invested we end up on the edge of our seats. It's to the credit of everyone involved that we're left caring about, and rooting for, our "heroes". (By the way, the Big Bad in this movie was, in the comics, the Justice League's first villain.)

My score:

Entertainment value: 3 1/2 out of 4 stars. I had trouble getting past some of the more graphic violence, of which there was much, but as movies based on comic books go this was one of the better ones. And graphic or not, I can watch Harley Quinn's fighting moves all day long.

Oscar Potential: 2 out of 4 stars. I don't know ... maybe. The Academy does seem to like violent flicks, after all, and shouldn't there be an Oscar for fight choreography? But I doubt it will get a "Joker" level of critical acclaim.

(By the way, this was our first trip back to an indoor theater in two years ... we went at noon, and there were only two other people in the theater. This is one of those movies better appreciated on the big screen.)

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https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Yard Work for the Beat Down

I'm not as active as a volunteer firefighter as I used to be, because over the years my body has been beat down pretty good ... by doing yard work.

Other than a couple of back injuries, I've never really been hurt on that hazardous job. Firefighting, I mean. Yard work, now that's the task that leaves me moaning on the ground, and not in a good way.

 

You ever try to mow with this stuff on?

 

With firefighting, you wear tons of protective gear, which changes the most likely medical problems to heat stroke and heart attacks. With yard work, you wear shorts and a tank top, and in some cases hold a can of beer. In addition, with firefighting you tend to have the topic of safety going on in your mind:

"Say, I'm in zero visibility, crawling over a burned out floor, shoving a metal pike into the ceiling when I don't know if the electricity is still on." It's just an example. I've never pulled a ceiling while crawling on the floor, so don't sweat it.

When I'm doing yard work, I have other topics on my mind:

"I wonder how long I could let this grow before the lawn police arrest me?"

An action shot.

But the biggest reason for this seeming paradox is that fire just doesn't give a darn about me, while Mother Nature hates me.

Oh, yeah. Mother Nature is a vindictive bit ... being. She hears me complain. I complain a lot.

"It's too cold." "I hate bugs." "That's not rain: It's a cloud of pollen!"

Once, as I was mowing in the front yard, one of our trees bent down and beaned me with a limb. It had nothing to do with me not paying attention. It's also the only time in my adult life that I did a full somersault.

But recently I learned a new twist: My furniture is in cahoots with Mother Nature. Much of it is wood, after all, an increasingly expensive resource that doesn't just grow on trees. I'm always shoving furniture around, banging into it, and of course sitting on it. This axes of evil (see what I did, there?) recently tried hard to do me in.

I was mowing in the back yard, near the lilacs I've horribly neglected. If you were a lilac and your caretaker doesn't trim you or keep other trees from growing up in the middle of you, wouldn't you be upset? I don't know, either.

As I pushed the mower around one of the bushes, it reached it's driest, deadest branch out and clobbered me in the arm.

The evidence.

 

The above photo is my arm, just so you know. Now that I think of it, maybe this is what the far side of my forearm always looks like--I usually can't see it. But no, my wife takes great joy in pouring peroxide on my fresh wounds, and when they're old I don't scream like that.

The very next day, I noticed the TV remote was missing. (Just hang on, it's connected.) No big deal: It can always be found by sweeping a hand between the cushion and the inside of the couch's side. We put it on the arm, it slides down, and Bob's your uncle.

(That's just an expression: I don't mean to offend anyone who actually has an Uncle Bob.)

Now, the couch is only a few years old, and we really like it. It has two recliners, something that's always seemed like rich luxury to me, but boy, am I glad for them--especially on bad back days. But when you recline and unrecline and plop down on something all the time, there's bound to be some wear and tear.

As near as I can tell, a nail popped loose and just hung there, between the side and the cushion. Waiting. For me.

I swept my hand down there, just like I always do. What happens when something suddenly stabs into your hand? You withdraw your hand, don't you? Which I did, but the nail had already embedded itself into my finger. I'm pretty sure it bounced off the inside of a fingernail.

I'll spare you the photos.

Have you ever bled so much that you couldn't stop it even with pressure, elevation, and cold? It was just a finger, for crying out loud, which is exactly how I cried. Out loud. Luckily no one was home, but that meant I had to do the peroxide thing myself, and it's not nearly as much fun that way.

Two injuries in two days, on the same arm. And what swung that nail out to grab me? That's right: the couch's wooden frame. I got even by bleeding on it, but still. Also, I hurt my back again jumping halfway across the living room while waving my hand wildly, and later I had to clean up that blood.

Luckily I'm used to cleaning up my own blood.

Don't doubt the connection: The truth is out there ... and in there. Mother Nature is out to get me, and there's nowhere to hide. Today the couch--tomorrow the bed.

There's a thought to sleep on.

When I'm going to give blood, I prefer advanced notice.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

movie reviews: Free Guy and Jungle Cruise

 Since I'm reviewing two movies at once (we went to the drive-in), I'm going to keep this short.

Stop laughing, I am.

Yep, we're back where I wrote Coming Attractions.

 

After watching "Free Guy" and "Jungle Cruise" back to back, it became obvious to me why Ryan Reynolds and Dwayne Johnson have been on such a winning streak of late: They both decided to embrace the silly. Armed with comic timing and a wink at the audience, both men are well aware they've been dropped into universes that shouldn't be taken too seriously.

What that means, of course, is that you either love them or hate them. I love the fun.

In "Free Guy" Reynolds is Guy, which is as much a name as he gets because he's just an NPC--a Non Playable Character--in a popular video game. Every morning he gets up, grabs a coffee, and dodges explosions on the way to his job at the bank, which gets robbed several times a day. He thinks nothing of it, until one day he's entranced by a woman who's one of the sunglasses-wearing elite, the cool people who have no routine and simply do what they please.

Soon Guy's world is shaken when he discovers the elite are video game players, and he's merely one of those background characters whose only role is to be victim, supply items, or simply fill up space. He finds himself falling for the player (Jodie Comer), who's trying to correct an injustice in real life, and they both end up racing to save the fictional world before it's destroyed by its owner--who's ready to go with an entirely new version.

It's been done before, sort of--the first example that comes to mind is "The Lego Movie". Here it's done with new twists, style, great effects, humor--and heart, something Reynolds excels at. It doesn't hurt that there are some awesome cameos, including one by Reynolds' real-life wife. (And another by Dwayne Johnson.)

"Jungle Cruise" is based on Disney's Jungle Cruise, thus the name. The plot? Well, it's the same plot as that wonderful Brendan Fraser movie, "The Mummy". An uncouth adventurer in the early 20th Century is hired to take a female British researcher and her unadventurous brother into a dangerous wilderness, where they encounter supernatural threats.

Which just goes to show you, the exact same idea can lead to completely different stories.

Johnson demonstrates a deft comic timing here, with a talented fellow cast including the real star of the movie, Emily Blunt. His character has been going up and down the Amazon in a small river boat for years and pretty much has everything figured out, until he's nonplussed by Blunt's ... well, bluntness, not to mention smarts. This being Disney, the movie has both the humor and action parts down, and the stakes are high as our heroes search for a plant that might save thousands of lives in the trenches of World War I.

All is, of course, not what it seems. If the action gets a bit improbable ... well, it's a summer Disney flick, so there you go. As Johnson's character says, "Who brings a submarine up the Amazon?" Actually, that quote pretty much sums up the tone of the whole movie.

 

My score on both films:

Entertainment value: 4 out of 4 M&Ms. They're summer popcorn movies--if you want your popcorn with lots of laughs, over the top action, and dazzling effects, these are two great examples. (Actually, "Free Guy" has the advantage of being mostly in a video game, where over the top action is all too likely.)

Oscar Potential: 2 out of 4 M&Ms. They don't give out Oscars for "Most Fun Movie". Maybe they should.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Getting My Dander Up

Look, I'm allergic to cat dander--highly allergic.

Granted, it might be a Pokemon cat Emily found in the car, but I've been sneezing every time I go for a drive. Coincidence?

Get back in your ball, Glameow.

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https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

book review: Sod's Law, by Roger Lawrence

  Arnold Pratt is ... well ... lazy. By night he's a security guard, keeping watch while building owners are gone. His big nightly decision is usually whether to fit in a short nap before, or after, coffee. His clients are ... peculiar. But that's okay with Arnold, a homebody by day who's basically sleeping his way through  life.

Ah, but Arnold lives in the U.K., where they have something called Sod's Law. Here in America we call it Murphy's Law: If something can go wrong, it will. Despite his best efforts to be invisible, Arnold soon finds himself on the run from different police agencies, not to mention the national government, and accused of committing a double murder he didn't even know happened. Soon everyone around him is either dying or trying to kill him, and poor Arnold gets more and more battered as he tries to figure out who he can trust.

https://www.amazon.com/Sods-Law-Roger-Lawrence-ebook/dp/B07BMGLTB5

 Arnold is oddly passive as he pinballs through life, and it isn't until late in the novel that we find out there's a reason for it. At first he seems like a lazy bum with no redeeming qualities, but he does love his family, and tries his best to protect the properties he's charged with guarding. Nothing that happens to him is really his fault, but it's fun watching him try to muddle through the minor and major disasters until, deciding he's over being a punching bag, Arnold starts taking matters into his own hands.

It was a fun read, although I got confused a few times when new scenes started without a break. There didn't seem to be much about Arnold to cheer for, and I wish we'd found out earlier that his lack of emotional response had a cause. Just the same, I enjoyed puzzling out the mysteries, not to mention the sometimes bizarre people we encounter along the way. Many of these people end up being way more than they appear, and those reveals are a large part of the fun.

I should warn that there might be some head-scratching moments for people who don't live in England, but they're not hard to figure through. Although the story starts off a bit slowly, in the end Sod's Law is a fun ride.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Do You Title Your Chapters?

Titling chapters, instead of numbering them, has mostly gone away in fiction, but it's still a thing in non-fiction. The only novel I put chapter titles in was The No-Campfire Girls, and I had great fun doing it. But that was self-published; I'm not sure I'd try it with an agent/publisher hunt.

(We don't literally hunt agents and publishers, by the way. Yes, I know what my last name is, but that's just a title I inherited. It's like an actor being knighted--they're not really expected to go out and defend the Queen's honor. Are they?)

More Slightly Off the Mark: Why I Hate Cats, and Other Lies, has a duel layer of titles. Each chapter is full of reconstituted humor columns, which is when you take an old newspaper and add water to the humor section. Too bad newspapers don't really have a humor section, unless you count the politics page. The humor columns came with their own title, and even when I made major changes in the old columns, I mostly stuck with the original title.

Then I divided the book into chapters, because I love organization. (Pay no attention to the condition of my office.) Hopefully the chapter titles will give a sense of the book, which starts with a prologue entitled:

Prologue, or: Prelude to a Forward Preamble, or: The Part People Skip

It's just to keep you on your toes. Some of the chapter titles include:

History ... Or Death

In Sickness and in Health, But Mostly In Sickness.

Dear Marky, or: Advice From the Clueless

That Cartoon Has Got the Boom

The Joy of Travel, or: Yes, There Was Sarcasm in "Joy"

People ... People Hating People

Government, Red Tape, Bureaucracy ... but I Repeat Myself, Just Like the Government

It's a Beautiful Day for Sportsball!

The Three Stooges Got Nothin' On Me

Weather ... Or Not

And then comes the finale, properly called:

Where Epilogues Go To Die

Tell the Pulitzer committee I'm standing by.

Brace yourselves, you luddites ... you could actually read the opening for free, here:

https://www.amazon.com/More-Slightly-off-Mark-Other/dp/1709741287

If you just can't wait and/or want a signed copy, contact Emily or me, or hit up the website, and we'll limber up our writing hands.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

 

Cold air funnel forms a You shaped Tube

 https://youtu.be/UWU8aLgO71E

 I posted this video of a cold air funnel on my little-used YouTube page (and previously on Instagram, which is a bit more used.) Now that I think of it, it was quite a day for us: We were on our way to the drive-in, our first trip to the movies in something like two years (Black Widow and The Boss Baby: Family Business, both good). On the way, being half-starved, we stopped at McDonalds, also for the first time in about two years. (chicken nuggets and cheeseburger, both okay). I noticed what looked to me a lot like a wall cloud to the south, and as we waited at the stop light nearby, sure enough, a rotating funnel came down out of it.

Luckily I'd already heard cold air funnels might be developing, or I'd have squealed like a toddler and wanted to chase it. By the time we got to the drive-in it had vanished, but as we waited another one came down (or the same one again), so I zoomed my iPhone all the way in and managed to get a serviceable video.

Cold air funnels are kind of baby tornadoes, or maybe supersized dust devils. I've seen a few before, and even on those few occasions when they do touch ground, they rarely cause any damage. Just the same, I'd imagine they gave some people between Auburn and Fort Wayne a bit of a scare, if they happened to be looking up at the time.