Top 10 Albums of 2015

Here they are, ladies and gentlemen: the ten best albums of 2015, as I hear them. I run the gambit on this list, from pop to jazz to classical. Read, listen, and enjoy!

(*5 Honorable Mentions: California Nights by Best Coast, No One Ever Tells You by Seth MacFarlane, Water Walker by Folk Family Revival, You Were Never Alone by Emery, 2.0 by Big Data)

10.) Good Girl by Julian Moon: Equal parts pop and sarcasm, Good Girl is a dreamy yet biting record. It's honest, funny, and incredibly catchy (and "A Cup of Coffee" is one of the year's best songs...seriously).

9.) The Epic by Kamasi Washington: Although this record is far longer than it needs to be (a whopping 2 hours 53 minutes!), this is nonetheless a fine work of jazz. It lives and breathes, swelling with soul and alive with unusual composition.

8.) My Favorite Things by Joey Alexander: Somehow, one of the decade's best jazz albums burst forth from the imagination and ability of a 12-year-old. Joey Alexander is a musical prodigy, and on My Favorite Things he shows off his impressive, eclectic, and incredible skills.

7.) What A Terrible World, What A Beautiful World by The Decemberists: This is familiar territory, but it's never seemed fresher. Here, The Decemberists craft a bubbly album, one with introspective lyrics and tight arrangements.

6.) Higher Truth by Chris Cornell: An album of unbelievable warmth, creative melodies, and astonishing musicianship. Cornell's voice is timeless, and so is this record.

5.) Star Wars: The Force Awakens (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by John Williams: Orchestral music is certainly out of the pop culture these days, but with this soundtrack, Williams again proves how wrong we all are. Apart from the standard Star Wars fare (beautiful in its own right), there are some stunning new compositions, notably the heartbreaking "The Scavenger" and the haunting "Snoke."

4.) Invisible Stars: The Choral Works of Ireland & Scotland by the UCD Choral Scholars & Desmond Earley: Again, classical songwriting can be some of the most expressive, most engaging music available. Here, we have a collection of choral pieces from Ireland and Scotland, and they are utterly captivating.

3.) 1989 by Ryan Adams: In all honesty, I listened to this album thinking I was going to hate it. I'm not infatuated with Adams or Taylor Swift, and thought this record was going to be a hokey, pretentious musical experiment. And while there are a few moments of faux avant-garde nonsense, this is nonetheless a fabulous recording. Adams' quaint vocals pair beautifully with arrangements ranging from downbeat folk to bouncy pseudo-funk. This is an undeniably cool, interesting album.

2.) The Weather Below by Sister Sparrow and the Dirty Birds: Holy crap, this album is up my ally. This is a mammoth throwback to the hits of yesteryear - phenomenal funk, sensual soul, unending awesomeness. Sister Sparrow herself is a bit like Joss Stone, but without all the pretentious political posturing. The overall sound quality is textured and organic, like what you might hear on an Avett Brothers or Mumford album (which makes sense. Producer Ryan Hadlock is known for working with The Lumineers). I love the way it shuffles past your ears; bounces in your brain. Highlights include the searing "Borderlines" and the bubbly "Sugar." 

1.) Besides by Pomplamoose: If there's such a thing as post-postmodern music (maybe altermodern?), then Besides by Pomplamoose is the quintessential example. This album is a hybrid of original material, covers, mash-ups, and everything in between. It simultaneously explores music of the past with that of the present, blending familiar hooks and melodies with quirky, borderline surreal chord structures and arrangements. Miraculously, this is a record free of pretension, thanks in part to its modest production and small scale. But there's nothing small about the musical innovation and freshness of Besides.

STAR WARS (Episode VI): Return of the Jedi - Review

Wow...what a nostalgic journey this has been, eh? Pouring over these 6 Star Wars films has been immense fun, and really taken me back to the old days. The digitized nonsense of the prequel trilogy - Phantom with its stupid story, Clones with its atrocious acting, and the relative resplendence of Sith - was a huge part of my childhood. (So too was discovering that they're all sub-par.) But the original trilogy? My cinematic compass. A New Hope taught me the importance of imagination, showing me fantastic creatures and outrageous settings. The Empire Strikes Back proved that pulpy sci-fi didn't have to appeal to everyone, that it could be dark and introspective. And the final entry in the series, Return of the Jedi? What did that teach me?

Let's save that until the end. For now, I'd like to simply give you my impressions, and tell you my personal experience with Episode VI. Let's dig in...

Our heroes embark on a final mission...

My sharpest memories of the original trilogy all revolve around Jedi. As a 7-year-old, I recall sitting in the theater seeing it for the first time, squirming and squealing at all the right moments (I hated Jabba the Hutt, cried when Yoda faded away in the dark, and cheered when Vader decided to save his dying son). The following weekend, I attended a friend's birthday party, and we all went to see it again. The novelty retained its freshness. I played the Super Nintendo game (Super RETURN OF THE JEDI) until my fingers were numb and my eyesight blurred. I talked for hours with my neighbor down the street: Why did Jabba want to keep Han so badly? How come the Emperor's face is all screwed up? After the Death Star is destroyed and the galaxy finally set free, what happens next?

Yeah, as maybe you can tell, Return of the Jedi was my favorite Star Wars film, my gold standard for years. Why wouldn't it be? It somehow managed to exceed Hope in terms of action and spectacle, yet still explored character motivations and themes like Empire. As a kid, I was in awe of this movie. I laughed at Han, cheered for Lando, was nervous for Luke, and fell in love with Leia. It was everything I wanted and more.

Gotta love the Emperor. Gotta.

But as the years zipped by, I grew tired of it. In my high school days, when it seemed like every blockbuster was suddenly serious and somber (from Batman Begins to Casino Royale), I became less interested in Jedi. Jabba and his desert palace seemed so silly; the Ewoks and their cuddly last stand so stupid. Even the great Han Solo, with his unending quips and cartoonish faces, annoyed me. Why wasn't this film as brooding as its predecessor? Although I always loved the scenes on the Death Star, in which Luke squares off against ultimate evil, I grew to hate the rest. Even in college, when a resurgence of Star Wars love settled into my bones, I never again warmed to Jedi. It was the flagship of my childhood, the royal sail barge of my former obsession, and could never again be anything else. It was the Back to the Future Part III, even the Godfather Part III of the original trilogy. I tolerated it. That was all.

And then a funny thing happened. Somehow the smoke cleared, and I was able to rewatch Return of the Jedi with an ounce of objectivity. And you know what? It's terrific. Really, truly terrific. As a twenty-six year-old adult, I have somehow come full circle. While it's not my favorite entry in the series (that honor still rests comfortably with A New Hope), I can nonetheless say that Jedi is far from disappointing. It is excellent.

On the surface of everything, it has incredible special effects, production design, and sound. Even with all its craziness, you buy into Jabba's palace because of its detail and authenticity: the way dust settles across the ground, how the various aliens move and bustle and breathe. The scream and squelch of lightsaber combat has never been more dramatic - the blades cackle, sizzle, slide. And the space battle? Great. While it lacks intimacy, it excels at pure pop fun.

Hands down, my favorite duel in the entire saga.

Beneath all that, the film has its best quality: the final curve of each character's story arc. Han is now a loving, albeit rough-around-the-edges general of the rebel alliance. Leia is the definition of confidence, free from sardonic quips, finally ready for love. Luke becomes a Jedi, overcoming his fear and anger and doubt, to become a guardian of peace and justice that Ben Kenobi once spoke of. And Vader? He ceases to exist, instead becoming what Luke hoped for all along - a good man, one who sees through the cloudy dark side and crawls back to the light. Luke doesn't just herald the return of the Jedi, but Anakin returns to being a Jedi. For these reasons alone, the argument can be made that this is the best episode overall. The characters no longer seem like characters at all. They're real. Jedi taught me this: when it comes to storytelling, characters should always come first.

And what about those Ewoks? They seem to be everyone's major complaint. It's George Lucas giving in to his greed, right? Thrusting those adorable little teddy bears center stage so he can sell toys and market to the kiddies? Well, I don't see things that cynically. For me, Ewoks represent the ultimate rebellion against the Empire - a seemingly harmless, oafish band of ragtag warriors who stand together and fight. They throw rocks, roll logs, and hurl spears at the technologically superior stormtroopers, and somehow do enough damage for the trained rebels to get things done. From an autobiographical standpoint, I can't help but think they're symbolic of George Lucas's artistic struggle against big studios. He wanted freedom from oppressive cinematic standards, and armed with only a slingshot and unending bravery, persevered against an empire of big money. I like that.

Return of the Jedi is yet another terrific Star Wars film. Its grand operatic razzle-dazzle pairs perfectly with climactic characterization. At times campy, at times silly, it nonetheless ends the trilogy on a very, very high note. While this movie perfectly completes the series, rounding out our characters and tying up every loose end, it still leaves us aching for more. I simply can't wait. Final Grade: B+

STAR WARS (Episode V): The Empire Strikes Back - Review

Like its predecessor, The Empire Strikes Back is one of the greatest movies of all time. It's a sci-fi epic, one that ventures past the shallow waters of typical blockbuster filmmaking and into deeper, murkier territory. Although it initially garnered lukewarm reviews, many fans and critics now cite this episode as the best in the entire saga. Understandably so. It's a dark film, daring to plumb the depths of its characters' minds and souls. Action sequences share time with intensive characterization, and the pace is slower, almost meditative. It's eerily hypnotic. As an adult, I adore Empire. It's a grim, but fitting, middle chapter.

As a kid, though? Not so much. In elementary school (before the prequel trilogy, mind you), everybody either loved Hope or Jedi. I felt the same way. Those movies were action-packed roller coasters, with lots of cheeky humor and optimistic moments. But Empire? The black sheep. I remember seeing it in theaters and experiencing all kinds of emotions I wasn't used to feeling as a child. Mostly fear. To me, this movie was truly scary. The wampa snow monster, with its jagged teeth and white fur matted with blood, was an absolute nightmare. So too were the flying parasites inside the asteroid, which squeaked and squealed in hideous tones. Worst of all, though? I hated the pivotal lightsaber battle between Luke and Vader. Strangling tension, punctuated by a particularly brutal jump-scare? No thanks. I couldn't handle any of it.

...the Empire literally standing between their friendship. Love it.

Even worse? There was a lot I didn't comprehend. My 7-year-old brain just couldn't handle it. Luke's trippy encounter in the cave, ripe with symbolism and surreal visuals, was an absolute mystery. What was going on? I was equally confused by the character of Lando. Why would somebody do that? I wondered. Isn't he their friend? My mind whirred, and all the while I hated the character more and more.

Sure, there were things I liked. Yoda, for one - I became obsessed with that little guy. I also loved Cloud City, the look and feel of it. I even enjoyed the deepening mystery of Darth Vader, with that quick glimpse beneath the helmet and the implications of his once-glorious past. But like Vader himself, the bad outweighed the good. Internally, I bounced between surprising fear and irritating confusion. Not exactly the recipe for a kid-friendly adventure flick.

Luke's training scenes are some of the saga's finest.

But I warmed to Empire. As I grew older and experienced more, it became essential. I remember sitting in my 9th grade health class, talking to my friend Bill about Star Wars. He said his favorite installment was Empire because "it's got balls and brains." In that moment, I decided he was right. When he asked what mine was, I too said Empire. And just like that, Return of the Jedi was dethroned (permanently) and I had a new number one. It remained my favorite for years. The more I rewatched it, the deeper I fell under its spell. I became infatuated with certain moments and characters: The opening Hoth scenes are beautifully staged and photographed, from the frigid exteriors to the gloomy interiors. Lando, with his sleazy swagger yet assertive leadership, is a fantastic foil. Han and Leia's love story is funny and deeply moving. Best of all? Luke's training on Dagobah, and his subsequent lightsaber duel with Vader. All these varied pieces fit together with mechanistic precision. Everything works beautifully.

Fantastic love story.

Even the gloomy mood works. The buoyancy of A New Hope is wiped away, and we're treated to the darker side of a galaxy far, far away. There's in-fighting, betrayal, jealousy, and a whole lot of insecurity. The production design mirrors this emotional shift - everything is dingy, foggy, on the verge of collapse. Even Cloud City, with its pearly facade, seems dangerous. What's going on below the surface? What threats lurk just out of sight? John Williams' score is equally menacing. The infamous "Imperial March" establishes the film's first act, with "The Clash of Lightsabers," a truly haunting piece, near the end. The only real musical stability provided, the placid "Yoda's Theme," nonetheless aches with sadness.

Heartache? Confusion? Anger? The Empire Strikes Back is a dusky tapestry of negative emotion. It's also a cinematic contradiction: thrilling yet thoughtful, expansive yet intimate, frustrating yet fun. As a kid I couldn't handle everything it threw at me, but now I understand. Empire is an incredible film, heavy on atmosphere and thematically versatile. It is perfect. Final Grade: A+

STAR WARS (Episode IV): A New Hope - Review

Woah, this is going to be tough. What's left to be said about the original Star Wars? It's one of the best films of all time and arguably the best science-fiction flick ever made. It's action-packed, filled with engaging characters and fascinating concepts, and is one of the highest grossing blockbusters worldwide. Simply put: it's classic.

So...what can I say about it? Nothing terribly new. I won't go into detail about the plot (which is perfectly simplistic), or describe its many characters (some of the best ever put to film). But I will tell you about my experience with A New Hope. This is my personal journey to a galaxy far, far away. I sincerely hope you read and enjoy....

I first saw Star Wars (Episode IV): A New Hope in 1997. I was seven years old, and my parents took me to see the twentieth anniversary "Special Edition" in theaters. I don't have any specific memory of this (not the squeak of theater seats or the flavor of popcorn, not even the hum of a lightsaber in all its surround-sound glory), but I do remember leaving the theater, walking out into the lobby as the end credits scrolled. There was a feeling in my chest, something electric and slippery. It was the way I felt going to the county fair, like being at the top of the Ferris wheel. Although I couldn't express this feeling at the time, I can now.

Guinness as Kenobi - one of cinema's best performances.

It was excitement. Total, absolute, unwavering, Christmas-morning excitement. A movie had never made me feel that way before. As we walked to the parking lot, my brain buzzed. Wasn't it awesome when Obi-Wan cut that alien's arm off? Wouldn't you want to have a droid like R2? Wasn't it great the way Han came back at the end? Aren't lightsabers amazing? I hopped from one foot to the other, words hurrying from my mouth in a frantic slur. For my family, I'm sure the car ride home was nauseating. "Uh-huh," they might have said. "Yup, it really was something."

And to me, it really was something. Seeing A New Hope opened my eyes to what movies could be. It was a portal to another universe, one I'd never dreamed of, or even thought of dreaming. Like most kids who see it at that perfect age, Star Wars became my obsession. I owned the toys, played the video games, filled notebooks with drawings of my favorite scenes, ran around the playground as an X-Wing pilot who dared to follow Luke into battle against the Empire. My closest friends quickly became other kids who shared my obsession. We'd talk for hours about moments, characters, scenes. As a seven-year-old, it was life. My parents soon took me to see the other two chapters of the original trilogy, and although I immediately identified Return of the Jedi as my favorite (I was seven, after all), A New Hope is what started it all, the catalyst of my childhood fervor. It's the reason I'm here, as a twenty-six year-old, writing about it.

Love this character, this moment, and this film.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. As I grew older and my tastes changed, my love of a galaxy far, far away remained. And while I quickly realized the prequels sucked, I learned other things too. I realized Return of the Jedi with its hokey ewoks wasn't my favorite. And The Empire Strikes Back with all its brooding atmospherics wasn't my cup of tea either. Don't get me wrong, I went through phases where each installment of the trilogy was my gold standard, but I kept going back and back to A New Hope. I remember being a high school sophomore, sitting in the cafeteria and talking about the recently-released Revenge of the Sith. Inevitably, we ended up debating which episode was best, and I was the only one who chose Hope. "It doesn't have all the campy fun of Jedi," someone said. "It's not serious like Empire," said another. And I couldn't argue with them. I just shrugged and said, "Yeah - I know. But Hope has everything."

And thankfully, it does. This is a movie I've seen dozens of times, and every time it works. As a seven-year-old, I loved the action and visuals. As a preteen, I identified with the characters (I wanted to be Han Solo, but saw more of myself in Luke). As a teen, when I really started getting into cinema, I loved analyzing the interlocking pieces - John Williams' iconic score, Ben Burtt's incredible sound effects, Alec Guinness's nuanced portrayal of Obi-Wan Kenobi. As a college student, I adored its longevity: how Han still made me laugh, or Vader still made me cringe.

Best villain ever?

And now? I still admire it for all those things, but there's still so much more. I love seeing its similarities to other films: The opening scroll is reminiscent of serials from the 1930's (like Flash Gordon); moments and characters are pulled straight from samurai classics (notably Kurosawa's The Hidden Kingdom and Yojimbo); you see John Wayne's sorrow from The Searchers written on Luke's face upon finding his home destroyed and family murdered; and there are countless nods to other sci-fi epics (1927's Metropolis and 1968's 2001: A Space Odyssey). I love its adherence to classical storytelling, following the hero's quest almost as well as Homer's Odyssey. I love that I can show it to a classroom full of seventh graders to study plot, theme, and characterization. I love that I can watch it for the millionth time and it still feels fresh. Regardless of all the "special edition" changes or bizarre alterations, it is nonetheless essential viewing. When all is said and done, it is pure imagination.

But most of all? I love A New Hope because it truly is what its name suggests. It is hope: for film, for fun, and for the future. Final Grade: A+

STAR WARS (Episode III): Revenge of the Sith - Review

...is it time? Really? Have we finally arrived at a Star Wars movie that's decent? Heck, not just decent, but surprisingly good? YES! I think we have! So crack open a carton of blue milk, buy yourself a pack of death sticks, and settle in for a review that's not overwhelmingly negative! Hooray!

But hold up a sec - am I saying Revenge of the Sith is perfect? Unfortunately no. Far from it, actually. In pure prequel fashion, there's still a bantha-load of issues present from the opening scroll to the final shot. But why start there? Let's keep things positive. After all - this one isn't terrible!

The Good: 

I actually like Grievous. Deal with it. 

- Many of the good qualities from Phantom and Clones are ramped up even further. The action is crazier, the villains meaner, heroes more dashing, the sets are bigger, the music more dynamic, and the stakes have never been higher. Things go way over-the-top, but after two movies that refuse to do much of anything, this is a refreshing change of pace.
- The cinematography is pretty decent. For the first time in decades, Lucas seems comfortable behind the camera, and it shows. Shots move gracefully, often propelling the action and controlling the pace. And there's depth, real depth, where images extend forever into the background. Love it.
- Across the board, the acting is much better. Christensen and Portman finally find some chemistry, McGregor is playful and nonchalant, and Ian McDiarmid is magnetic as the evil Darth Sidious.

This scene is one of the best in the entire series.

- The story has improved, teeming with relevant subplots and character development. Thank goodness. Although they ain't perfect, motivations and actions feel fairly realistic. Anakin's downfall, while a little rushed, works pretty well. Which means...
- It's thematically rich. I'm not saying it's Schindler's List or anything, but as far as summer blockbusters go, there are some ideas here worth chewing on.
- It's jammed full of iconic moments... Kenobi exploding out of a crash-landed star ship. Anakin's face when he hears about the pregnancy. Reptilian eyes leer out from droid armor. Two lovers, separated by an opaque cityscape, look to each other without seeing. A power-hungry hero succumbs to evil, dropping to his knees. An army of Jedi are murdered. Two brothers fight to the death, lightsabers clashing as lava sprays all around. Vader's helmet goes on, and his first electronic breath wheezes out. It's awesome.
- Unbelievably, Revenge of the Sith actually feels like a Star Wars movie! This one's hard to explain, but it's true. Something about the pace, the characters, the swashbuckling swagger of everything, makes it feel like a logical extension of the original trilogy. Wow.

But it isn't perfect. For example...

The Bad: 
- There are still way too many CG effects. But honestly, I can't really complain about this. Unlike the other entries in the prequel trilogy, Sith's effects are almost perfectly rendered. So...yeah. I guess this isn't really a negative. Oh well.
- Some of the dialogue is hilariously overwritten. Watch it - you'll understand.

Quit talking and DO SOMETHING!

- Characters act like characters, and not real people. Case in point? Anakin discovering the true identity of the Sith. When he realizes the terrible plot that's unfolded, when the secret antagonist reveals himself, what does Anakin do? Try to solve the problem himself? No. Maybe he runs quickly to his Jedi masters for help? Nope. Instead he leisurely walks from points A to B, and in business-like tonalities, states the problem to Mace Windu. And then? Mace frowns, calmly asks more questions, and then finally after endless deliberation, decides to act. Why does all this happen so slowly? Why isn't anyone the least bit concerned about this horrifying revelation? This isn't how real people would've acted. Not even remotely.
- An ending that's supposed to be tragic is kinda funny. Yeah, we're all aware the infamous Vader, "NO!!!!!" is hilarious, but I'm talking about the rationale we were given for a certain protagonist's death in the last few minutes of the film. I don't want to spoil it, but for those who don't know, a main character dies because s/he "...has lost the will to live." Yup - a character dies of a broken heart. Even worse? The scene is set in a futuristic hospital, with all kinds of high-tech gadgets bleeping and blooping all around. None of those machines could save the character? Not one? This is utter nonsense.

While it's not perfect, Revenge of the Sith is tremendous entertainment. It's the best space opera of the 00s, loaded with sensational visuals and over-the-top action. Many people consider this film to be the "darkest" of the series, and while I agree with this judgement, "darkness" doesn't mean greatness. Sith finds its greatness by fitting into the big picture. Unlike Phantom and Clones, it feels necessary. It's the prequel I always wanted, and the one I find myself going back to time and again. Final Grade: B

STAR WARS: The Clone Wars - Review

If I'm going to do this right, I have to review all of the Star Wars films, including this animated action flick from 2008. The Clone Wars was released after all of the prequel films, yet takes place between episodes 2 and 3. Weirdly, it was never intended to be a film. These were the first four episodes of an impending television series for The Cartoon Network, and after George Lucas saw some footage, he decided to release them collectively as a theatrical movie. And you can tell. Big time.

But, as always, let's start with what The Clone Wars film does well...

The Good:
- As usual, the art direction is lovely. There are plenty of settings, and all of them ooze with visual appeal. Light filters through dusty war-zones, playing nicely off craggy mountains and deserted cityscapes. It's surprisingly artistic.

Anakin and Ahsoka chattin' it up, yo.

- The voice acting is nicely done. A few actual cast members lend their talents (Anthony Daniels as C-3PO, Sam Jackson as Mace Windu, and the infinitely cool Christopher Lee as Count Dooku), but the others are newcomers. Ashley Eckstein is great as padawan Ahsoka Tano, and James Arnold Taylor is a dead-ringer for Ewan McGregor. Everyone emotes with ease, and although the animation is sub-par, performances still ring with authenticity.
- The idea of doing a film focused on the Clone Wars makes sense. I mean, why not, right? As a kid watching A New Hope for the first time, I remember zoning in on Luke talking to Ben Kenobi about "the clone wars." What were they? Why did they happen? Those few lines of toss-off dialogue intrigued me to no end. But when the prequels were released, I was irritated that we barely saw any Clone War action. So this movie felt like an easy slam dunk. Plus, it's animated. Freshness and originality abound.

The Bad:

The plot is truly terrible. 

- Plot? What plot? It barely exists. Among other things of zero consequence, our fearless heroes have to rescue Jabba the Hutt's son from kidnappers bent on turning the tide of the Clone Wars. Wow. You'd think with the potential of a future Star Wars TV series on the line, the writers would step up their game. But then again, they didn't know this was going to be a movie. It was supposed to just be four episodes of a new show, remember? The narrative is chunky and awkward. You can feel where one episode ends and another begins. It sucks.
- Characterization is thin as cardboard. This film depends on two things in order to succeed: That you've seen other Star Wars films, and that you're going to watch the television series to follow. What nonsense. A movie needs to stand on it's own feet. Always. But here, because everything depends on your prior knowledge and future commitment, the character development is reduced to cliche. What a bummer.

Plastic animation at its "finest."

- The animation blows. Again, this is probably because the animators didn't have a clue that this thing was gonna end up in theaters. For TV, it would've been fine. But on the silver screen, it's laughably outdated. Stack this up next to Finding Nemo or The Incredibles and you'll see. These characters look little better than plastic action figures, with impeccably molded hair and all the subtlety of concrete. Everyone moves like robots, ones with their batteries slowly dying.
- Giving Anakin a padawan really bothers me. I know that lots of people love Ashoka Tano (hell, after watching the entire series, I'm one of them), but I hate what her existence means to the overall Star Wars universe. She's written as a pretty important character, one who impacts our protagonists in lots of different ways. But is she ever mentioned in another film? Is her presence felt beyond the pixelated dimensions of The Clone Wars? Barely. She feels shoehorned in. Regardless of how fleshed out and vital she becomes by the series' end, Ahsoka is a tacked-on heroine. Even worse? Constrained to this movie alone, she comes across as static and unengaging. I'd say this was a wasted opportunity, but it shouldn't have been used in the first place. Even done well, this character doesn't work. Not as part of the big picture. Not one bit.

So, at the end of the day, The Clone Wars is pretty lame. It might not be terrible, but it's bland to the point of invisibility. Truth be told, I'd rather laugh at The Phantom Menace or scream at Attack of the Clones. At least they evoke some emotion. Final Grade: D

(If you want some grand advice, just commit and watch the entire six-season television series, which is pretty good. Even better, though? Watch the hand-drawn microseries Star Wars: Clone Wars from '03-'05. It's spectacular.)

STAR WARS (Episode II): Attack of the Clones - Review

I hate to say it, but it's true: I've got a bad feeling about this...

1999 was a terrible year for most Star Wars fans. After decades of restlessness, during which infinite speculation and delirious hype dominated their fandom, the people were finally given The Phantom Menace. Although it raked in tons of cash and satisfied the younglings, it was an unparalleled disaster. It was as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced. There was confusion. Bemused anger. And there was shame...a deep, embarrassing burn that would linger for years. Everyone was excited for that? How pathetic. So public declarations were made - vows proclaimed in basements and bars and websites: Never would they be burned again. Star Wars was a thing of the past. Used to be great, now it isn't. Sad, but true. Time to move on.

But secretly, fans hoped for things to change. Phantom was bad, but everyone knew that, right? Not just the critics, but studio execs, too. Maybe even George Lucas. After all, he was in charge. He could set things right again. For fans, Episode I was not their last hope. There was another...

And for this reason, I personally believe that Episode II: Attack of the Clones is the worst entry in the Star Wars saga. I'm not the first to say this (and I surely won't be the last), but Clones should've known better. Phantom's fall from grace should have ensured its sequel's perfection. It was time to study past mistakes and move forward. How could Lucas screw things up twice?

But he did. They all did.

So I'm going to take a flying leap into the garbage chute and review this thing. Again, before discussing the negatives, I'll analyze the positives. They are few, but mighty...

The Good:
- Many of the good aspects from The Phantom Menace carry over. Most of the action is terrific (particularly Obi-Wan's brawl with Jango Fett and the lightsaber-choked finale on Geonosis), the art direction is spectacular, Ewan's great, the creature design is fascinating, and that John Williams score is absolutely breathtaking (the main theme, "Across the Stars," is a sweeping, melancholic anthem). 
- Christopher Lee is always amazing. Anything graced by his presence is automatically cool. Thankfully, Lee takes the shallow role and manages to do something interesting with it. Every word he says is laced with condescension, with a deep-rooted irritation that speaks volumes about the character. Even his lightsaber, with that esoteric curve, is cool.

Obi-Wan and his informant in a space-opera diner.

- Obi-Wan's storyline kinda plays like an homage to old mystery movies. Attempted murder, intrigue, traitors, and even a crappy old diner where an informant operates in secrecy...cool, right? It doesn't come across too well, but I think the attempt was admirable.
- The pieces almost come together, and it could've been awesome. It's hard to explain, but the vibe of this movie was only off by inches. I think I can see what Lucas was going for, and if he would've succeeded, Clones might have worked. This is probably best illustrated by two of the movie's pivotal settings: the planets Kamino and Geonosis. One is the rain-soaked cloner capital, while the other is home to droid factories. Both locations are gearing up for war, but as viewers, we don't know why. This isn't quite dramatic irony, but it's nonetheless intriguing. In the end, the products of both planets (clones vs. droids) do battle, and we're given a dollop of narrative finality. We saw the build-up, and now we're seeing the payoff. It's not done gracefully (sometimes not even interestingly), but there's a refreshing sense of purpose. Unlike its predecessor, Clones actually does something. It goes places. It shows us things. It almost works.

With all that out of the way, let's dig our paws into the muck of Attack of the Clones. There are all sorts of problems with this one, so I hope you have your reading glasses...

The Bad:
- Many of the bad aspects from The Phantom Menace carry over. It's overwritten, poorly edited, stale, emotionally flat, badly acted (the kid who plays Boba Fett is magnificently awful), and is host to a never-ending supply of stupidity...Why does the galaxy's best assassin hire another assassin to kill someone? Instead of shooting her, why does the second assassin try to kill Padme with worms? Why do the Jedi think Padme's home planet of Naboo would keep her safe? Why would they send the emotionally unstable, reckless Anakin to protect her? Upon reaching Naboo, why didn't they hide? Why don't Yoda and Mace Windu ever do anything? Worst of all: Why didn't Anakin save his mother YEARS ago? Seriously - slavery is illegal, Anakin's a badass Jedi who can legally set her free, and yet in the ten years since Phantom Menace, he hasn't gone back to save her? Hasn't even checked on her? It's hard for me to wrap my brain around a character so clearly obsessed with his mother deciding to let her toil in the hot Tatooine sun for a decade when he could've put a stop to it. The idiocy is stunning.
- GOOD GOD, THE DIALOGUE IS TERRIBLE. I'm not going to say anything else about this. Just watch it and you'll understand. Trust me.

I don't have an opinion about this fight. But the effects suck.

- For the first time in a Star Wars film, the special effects suck. To be honest, even as a twelve-year-old sitting in the theater, I thought they looked bad. Apart from a few well-done sequences (the asteroid-field chase, the attempted execution on Geonosis), everything looks pixely and shallow. Even worse? These effects have not aged well. The whole thing looks like a cut scene from a PS3 game. This is mainly because...
- It's drowning in CGI. It's just awful. I'm not sure a single scene - nay, a single shot - goes by without some kind of hokey digital effect. Everything looks glossy on top, with that pixely grit underneath. Even most of the sets were done on computer. Actors walk through hallways that appear barely there, talk to cartoon characters without an ounce of weight or gravity or depth. And why are ALL the clone troopers CG? Yes, not a single suited clone trooper was portrayed by a human being. And there are hundreds of them. This lack of authenticity makes it practically impossible to suspend your disbelief. Which means you can't engage with the story. It's atrocious.

Anakin + Padme = Cinematic Poison

- The love story is a complete joke. Again, I don't want to write too much about this one. If you watch the movie, it'll click. But basically, our two central protagonists fall in love for no reason. It's jagged, poorly-executed, and completely lacking in realism. Even worse, actors Hayden Christensen and Natalie Portman have zero chemistry together. Zip. Zilch.
- George Lucas basically ruins the Jedi. This is my biggest complaint of all. In this movie, Lucas transforms the Jedi from noble adventurers to asexual monks. Why can't Jedi love? Who knows. It's never explained. Lucas wanted a tragic love story, but didn't know how to write it. So he devised the simplest way to make it happen - the Jedi are forbidden to love, but Anakin falls in love anyway, badda bing, badda boom, it's done. The result? Now whenever I think of Jedi, I don't think of gallantry. I just picture that yawning Jedi Council chamber, where cartoon aliens and Sam Jackson sit around all day refusing to love or even do anything. Instead of Luke Skywalker saving the damsel and destroying the Empire, we get Obi-Wan chastising Anakin for his feelings. Yuck.

When the credits start scrolling and that glorious theme starts blasting from your speakers, you'll realize the last two and a half hours of your life are gone. Wasted. A headache will crackle between your eyes, a soreness aches in your back. Why did you just sit through that mess? Did you pay for it? God, I hope not. Did you enjoy it? Only so much as a curious onlooker enjoys the tragic metal heap of a car accident. Attack of the Clones is beyond disappointing. It's horrific. Final Grade: D

STAR WARS (Episode I): The Phantom Menace - Review

Holy crap. I'm officially doing this, aren't I? In preparation for The Force Awakens this December, I'm re-watching all 6 Star Wars films and reviewing each. Why? I don't really know. Seems like everything's been said about these movies - the good, the bad, the Jar Jar - so why me, too? What's the point? Again: I'm not sure. I just feel compelled. I was 7 when the much-despised Special Editions hit theaters, and my parents took me to see the entire trilogy. Those experiences are some of the best I've ever had in a cinema. They opened my eyes to what movies could be. To this day, the entries of the original trilogy are some of my all-time favorites.

...but we're not here to talk about those. Instead we're talking, (*gulp*), Episode I. Let's dive in.

Right off the bat, I have to be honest with you; my first complaint about this movie doesn't really have anything to do with it. I just hate that the prequels aren't often referred by their actual titles, with everybody instead just saying Episode I, Episode II, and Episode III. We don't call the originals IV, V, and VI, do we? I think during some early pitch meeting, writer/director George Lucas decided that he wanted to put as much distance between the originals and the prequels as possible, and by God, he was gonna start with their names. This always bugged me. Even as a 9-year-old running around at recess playing Jedi, I never understood why every kid called it Episode I. It's The Phantom Menace, right? But I dunno...maybe giving it a formal title is too much of a compliment.

But before wading waist-deep into the nightmarish hellscape of Phantom's mistakes, we should start with what this movie does well. And yes, contrary to popular belief, there are good qualities this "first" entry brings to the table. I'm going to laundry list them below (don't worry - there aren't many)...

The Good:

McGregor as Obi-Wan: Perfect Casting

- Casting Ewan McGregor as a young Ob-Wan Kenobi was a masterstroke. He embodies the character with naturalism and charm, and is an incredibly likable screen presence. Most of the time, I don't even consciously recognize that two different actors played the part (the other, of course, being the eternal Sir Alec Guinness from the originals). Obi-Wan just exists, thanks in large part to this dynamic performance. Great job, Ewan. 
- Overall, the art direction is stunning. All sorts of different planets, from the Romanesque Naboo to the over-the-top Coruscant, spring to life from the screen. This is mostly because of how interesting, varied, and engaging the production is. Which leads directly to my next point...
- Unlike the other two entries in the prequel trilogy, this one isn't entirely bathed in computer-generated effects. Okay, okay, I know there are still a lot, but this one almost works. There's an organic quality to it, something that feels occasionally real. I can't put my finger on it, but it's true. Re-watch and see for yourself. 
- The action sequences are spectacular. The podrace is fun, and the final lightsaber duel is one of my favorites. Good stuff. 
- Lastly, the musical score by John Williams is perhaps the best in the entire Star Wars saga. It runs the gamut from intense, to soothing, to quirky, to heartbreaking. The theme from the third act, dramatically entitled "Duel of the Fates," is iconic.

Unfortunately, all this decency is bogged down by the bad stuff. And yeah, in case you've been living somewhere in the Outer Rim Territories your whole life, you probably know this. I'm going to try and be succinct here, but I can't make any promises. The Phantom Menace has a lot of problems, so get comfortable. We're going to be here a while...

The Bad: 
- When all is said and done, the premise just doesn't work. So, like many fans of the saga, I find myself asking, Why did the story start HERE? Why does Anakin have to be a child? Why is Jar Jar necessary? Why is the Trade Federation even a thing? A lot of this film simply doesn't work because it's fundamentally unnecessary. I've no idea why a 9-year-old Anakin Skywalker had to be the focal point of this movie. Making him "The Chosen One" overstates his importance, thereby undermining the character. He should've been just a regular dude - maybe a hotshot pilot with some atypical Force abilities - who meets Obi-Wan and they go on an adventure together. Maybe they discover a sith lord, and start to see the vague outline of an impending plot to overthrow the Republic. That would've been at least halfway interesting, right? Instead, Lucas opted to make Anakin a Force Jesus who invented C-3PO (yeah...like, what?) and has mommy issues. Yuck.

This blockade is nonsense...

- The plot is just...yikes, just all over the place. There's not a single shred of narrative fluency, meaning it's hard for us to engage. Lucas hurtles us from set piece to set piece, without much grace tying it all together. That being said, the actual story is absurd. So many half-concocted ideas and subplots are thrown around (taxation, trade treaties, civil unrest, political squabbling, war, peace, gambling, and don't forget those damn medichlorians), and it never really amounts to anything accessible. Besides, the whole thing is laughably overwritten. One of the best aspects of the original trilogy was its minimalist story. It allowed us to identify with characters, to marvel at the scenery, and get lost in the fun. Unfortunately in The Phantom Menace, there's little fun to be had. It feels about five hours long, and the only payoff you get is when the credits start rolling and you realize it's finally over.
- There's a stunning lack of art. It feels like Lucas just aimed a bunch of cameras at his actors, and when all was said and done, edited together the most static, uninteresting shots to get his story across. Now I'm not saying every director has to be Terrence Malick, and that every shot has to be a stylistic gimmick; I absolutely understand the effectiveness of a bread-and-butter, bare-bones cinematic style. But here? It's tedious: After a quick establishing shot of some alien landscape, the camera will point directly at someone's face while talking. That's it. If it's an action scene, Lucas spreads his wings a little bit, but never in an interesting way. Was he scared of the camera? Afraid to try anything new? Equally irritating is the editing, which is riddled with some shots that last too long and others not nearly long enough. It makes for a choppy, herky-jerky viewing experience.

This is one of the crappiest scenes in movie history.

- There are some truly terrible performances here. The talented Natalie Portman bounces between pouty and wooden with no range in the middle (and what's up with that weird Queen voice of hers?). Samuel L. Jackson, one of the most awesome actors ever, just sits around in robes with the same irritated expression plastered to his face. Yet it's child actor Jake Lloyd's portrayal of Anakin that is Phantom's biggest sin. The kid can't act. At all. His scenes have all the authenticity of an elementary school play, with paper-thin vocal inflections and a lack of nuance about as gaping as a sarlacc pit. Every "Yippee!" or "Oops!" makes me want to jam a fork in my eye. Worst of all is his introductory spiel about angels, which sets my teeth on edge. It's awful.
- Lastly, a whole lot of little problems add up. There are so many gaps in logic, so many bizarre incidents and characters and quirks, that the movie buckles under the weight of its own idiocy. Why does the Trade Federation think that forcing someone to sign a treaty is legal? How could the planet core of Naboo be made of water? How could a ship's shield generator be hit if it was generating a shield? Why would the Naboo people, living on such a lush planet, be dying only a few days into a minor blockade? If Qui-Gon didn't want to attract attention on Tatooine, why let the buffoonish Jar Jar tag along? Speaking of Qui-Gon, why doesn't he just steal the part he needs, instead opting to endanger the life of a child by entering him in a risky podrace? Why doesn't anyone in the Galactic Senate believe that there's an illegal invasion happening on Naboo? And then why do they go back? And why doesn't the blockade stop them when they try? It's just all so...flipping...IRRITATING.

...okay...I'm starting to feel better again. In case you haven't gotten my drift, I think The Phantom Menace is a pretty bad movie. Is it unwatchable? No. Not if you are a forgiving moviegoer, someone who enjoys a bit of razzle-dazzle eye candy with a penchant for hard sci-fi. And I have to say, as a kid, I absolutely adored this movie. But now? Not even childhood nostalgia can save it. It's an overwritten, intermittently boring, poorly bloated summer blockbuster. I wish it could be banished to a galaxy far, far away... FINAL GRADE: D+

31 Days of Horror (Part 4): The Final Chapter

Here we are again, folks. Isn't it nice to be back? Once more (for the last time...?), I submit for your approval a list of some of the best horror movies ever made. There are 31 films here; one for each ghastly, blood-soaked day of October. If you have nerves (and a stomach) of steel, then I dare you to watch this list in order. Moving chronologically up through the dusky ranks of horror is a risky ascent, but a rewarding one. Happy Halloween, everyone. Read and enjoy.

Feel free to check out my other horror lists, too: 31 Days of Horror, 31 Days of Horror (Part 2), and 31 Days of Horror (Part 3).

Haxan [or, Witchcraft Through the Ages] (1922)

 The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

White Zombie (1932)

Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943)

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)

Dracula (1958)

House on Haunted Hill (1959)

Black Sunday (1960)

Black Sabbath (1963)

Persona (1966)

The Last House on the Left (1972)

The Legend of Hell House (1973)

Alice, Sweet Alice (1976)

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

The Brood (1979)

Friday the 13th (1980)

Re-Animator (1985)

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)

Hellraiser (1987)

The Blob (1988)

Army of Darkness (1992)

Candyman (1992)

Wes Craven's New Nightmare (1994)

The Mummy (1999)

The Devil's Rejects (2005)

Land of the Dead (2005)

Inside (2007)

[REC] (2007)

The House of the Devil (2009)

The Babadook (2014)

Willow Creek (2014)