THE WORLD'S END

Few cult classics of the last decade managed to be as popular as Shaun of the Dead, and I'd say no zombie film has been as entertaining. When Hot Fuzz came along from the same crazy team it managed to upend the action cop genre just as well as Shaun had upended zombie horror. Both films walk a very thin line between satirizing the genre and being a part of it, and both succeed brilliantly. Now comes sci-fi/alien/apocalypse comedy The World's End.

The film’s aliens are actually robots that have replaced most of the town in a mix of Invasion of the Body Snatchers and The Stepford Wives. Party guy Gary (Simon Pegg) convinces his four high school friends (Nick Frost, Martin Freeman, Eddie Marsan, and Paddy Considine) to go back to their home town to finish the twelve-pub crawl that they never completed 23 years before. Soon the robot alien secret is revealed, and the guys have to fight for their lives and try to save the world.

Unlike most recent comedies, The World's End manages to include real character development, conflict, and drama without sacrificing laughs. Anyone who has had a few close drinking buddies in their life, and perhaps have gone too far some nights, will relate to these five old friends. They have their ups and downs, and still carry some old scars, but they are there for each other when the blue alien robot blood hits the fan.

Revered Polish director Krzysztof Kieślowski made the famous "Three Colours Trilogy" with Blue, White, and Red. Film geeks Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright have now completed their "Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy”. Strawberry red was in the gory rom-zom-com Shaun of the Dead, original blue is in the police-centered Hot Fuzz, and alien mint green is in The World's End. Along with a recurring set of actors and a few recurring jokes, the trilogy is mostly held together by Pegg and Wright's quintessentially British humour and Wright’s love of fast editing, which is on full display in The World's End.

I hesitate to mention, but if I had one complaint with the film it would be, ironically, the end. Although the story wrapped up and climaxed in a wonderfully entertaining way, the last few minutes saw a sudden tone shift that I felt halted the momentum. In a way it was the perfect way to end the film, and it marked a clear difference from the other two Cornetto films, but it still didn't feel right.

Despite the minor issues I had with the ending, or with the somewhat underused appearance of Pierce Brosnan (with Timothy Dalton in Hot Fuzz, I’m sad that Connery or Moore weren’t in Shaun of the Dead for a James Bond hat trick), The World’s End was a wonderfully entertaining film.

Apparently Cornetto is releasing new flavours in the UK, so if the stars align and find themselves with some free time, perhaps the trilogy will expand. For now you can expect to see Simon Pegg expanding into drama with Hector and the Search for Happiness as well as more Star Trek, Nick Frost will be acting without Pegg for the first time in salsa dancing comedy Cuban Fury, and director Edgar Wright is finally working on Ant-Man for Marvel’s Phase Two films leading to The Avengers 2.

The New Pixar Theory

I hadn't planned on writing this as a post because it seemed like the sort of strange thought experiment better left in my own head. But then Jon Negroni's Pixar Theory exploded over the internet. It kept popping up everywhere, and by the time the mainstream news sites had grabbed it the theory was being moulded in response to the thousands who read it in order to iron out all the plot holes. It was a lot of fun seeing that there are other people who think like me out there because the fact is that I've been thinking Pixar's films belong in the same universe for a while.

But since I never wrote it down, Jon Negroni got there first. Also, since I saw Toy Story when I was 6, there is a good chance that he thought of it first. I'm not writing this to lay claim to his success. But I am writing this in response to his theory because I think it is a very clever, very convoluted theory.

My Pixar theory is much closer to the Unified Tarantino Theory, which suggests that all of Tarantino's films are connected. Unlike Pixar, Tarantino has confirmed parts of this theory, which posits that all of the films are in the same violence and pop-culture-obsessed universe except for Kill Bill, which is a movie within that universe. That is what Negroni's theory is missing.

Let's start with Toy Story, as Pixar did. The Toy Story trilogy can be the baseline. They are essentially set in the real world, but the real world seen from the magical side that is hidden to the rest of us. I find it is successful in the same way as Harry Potter because of this "it could be real" factor that makes it easier to believe in the unbelievable.

Most of the films can be related directly to this "real" world. There is nothing that suggests A Bug's Life is set anywhere but reality, and could be contemporaneous with Toy Story's modern North America. The same can be said of Finding Nemo (only it happens in the south Pacific), Ratatouille (in Paris), Up (possibly very close to Toy Story), and Pixar's upcoming films Inside Out (which is partially set inside the head of a child), and Finding Dory.

Still set in the "real" world established by Toy Story are WALL-E (just set in the distant future), and Brave (set in the medieval past).

WALL-E's BnL corporate logo seen in Toy Story 3

Monsters, Inc. and Monsters University were a problem for Negroni's theory because it required a full cycle of evolution on Earth to establish a new world of Monsters who travel back in time via closet doors to collect screams of children in the present. But the movie establishes the connection from the very beginning, which is that the monster world is just that: another world.

Randall ended up near to the events of A Bug's Life,
and at the home of the terrible driver of the Pizza Planet truck

The Incredibles was a major style shift for Pixar. It presented a retro future, and a whole world and alternate history touched by the existence of superheroes. But, in Finding Nemo, the little boy in the waiting room is reading an Incredibles comic book. With Warner Brothers announcing a Batman/Superman film, and Marvel planning two pictures a year til the end of time, this is hardly the time to be surprised by the existence of a film adaptation of a comic book.

And this leads to the final connection, the one that made Negroni twist his theory into knots to explain, which is the presence of Cars. Partially because they are more for kids than any other Pixar films, Cars and Cars 2 are generally not counted amongst people's favorites. It might sound like a copout, but I would argue that the feature-length toy advertisements that are Cars and Cars 2 might just be feature-length toy advertisements in the Pixar world as well. If The Incredibles is a film, why not Cars?

There is also an interesting pattern in the logo designs. The Incredibles and both Cars films are the only Pixar features (so far) that have red backgrounds in their theatrical releases. All of the "real world" films have blue, green, brown, or black. It will be interesting to see what happens when we learn more about The Good Dinosaur.

The one thing that will poke a hole in my theory is the blooper reel from Cars. If it is a movie within the universe of the other movies, how is Mac watching Cars versions of Toy Story, A Bug's Life, and Monsters, Inc.? The only excuse I have for this is to say, "Don't count the bloopers." Toy Story had bloopers, which would suggest that they are just real characters in a movie that has been secretly made in our world. Same with all the early films and their blooper reels. But if this collapses my theory, it collapses any unification theory, and then we're just film geeks talking about meaningless easter eggs. And what's the fun in that?

Could a new type of movie theatre survive?

There is a fairly well known story about Alfred Hitchcock and the release of Psycho. With little studio support and his personal finances at stake, Hitchcock made a spectacle of the release by ordering theatre owners to close the doors when the film started and not allow late arrivals admittance. All for the buzz created around the film's shocking ending. People had, up until that point, been used to walking into films half way through. The film and the new structure was embraced and theatres have never looked back.

When cinema's dominance for people's attention was threatened by television in the 50s, the industry responded by pushing for widescreen technicolor cinemascope extravaganzas. It was an attempt to woo audiences back with the one major asset that television couldn't offer: big screens. Also colour, but television had that within a decade. The current trend of 3D has been seen as a similar move. Better television options with HBO and Netflix, bigger televisions, surround sound systems, and blu-ray interactive features have pushed the industry to go bigger and broader to keep the box office running.

I've read several articles in the last few months predicting the end of the current age of Hollywood. Some are predicting the collapse of the Superhero bubble while others predict the implosion of the entire system, or at least a chaotic paradigm shift. It would be foolish to say that the status quo will remain, but I'm not as confident in my predictions of the future as Spielberg and Lucas are, so I've been refraining from too much prognosticating.

Something that I would like to see is a new theatrical experience. Industry giants like Spielberg and Lucas predict the movie theatre will go the way of the classical theatre; higher ticket costs for a more elite form of entertainment. No longer for the masses, the movie theatre will be a blockbuster evening out on special occasions. That, to me, would be tragic.

But I have an idea. And I have hope for that idea. Currently the Cineplex theatres are offering semi-regular screenings of classic films. For two nights they play Some Like It Hot, The Shining, Lawrence of Arabia, or Alien on a big screen for $6. I've gone a few times now and there are never more than ten people in the audience, but the films have all been surprisingly improved by the theatrical experience. I jumped when Jack slammed his axe into the bathroom door. I cringed when John Hurt's chest burst open. And I recoiled from the screen when Norma Desmond reached out to me at the end of Sunset Boulevard.

What if a theatre were designed to operate like in the days before Psycho? It would have a lounge/cafe atmosphere in the lobby, quiet doors hidden around the corner so people in the theatre aren't disturbed by late arrivals, and an all-day stream of films, cartoons, news headlines, shorts, and even television series on a big screen. And the whole schedule would be available through an app on your phone, which could even remind you when something interesting is coming up.

You could pay a single admission, something comparable to a cheap ticket to any movie today, but you could stay in the theatre as long as you'd like. Come and go as you please. And if the experience was agreeable, perhaps you'd like to buy a one-month pass for $20? A full year for $60? Depending on the economics of licensing old films and operating a cafe, the subscriber prices could end up being a cheaper option than most cable packages.

Several revival theatres exist in NYC. But these places still operate on the one-ticket-one-movie format. I'd like to see a theatre that takes advantage of the new go-to entertainment option of binge-watching seasons of Mad Men or Breaking Bad. Give film students a place to have their shorts seen by real audiences on the big screen. Make a theatre that is free of the car commercials, cell phone commercials, and commercial blockbusters that have desecrated the sublime experience of sitting in a darkened theatre with strangers to watch a silver screen.

This is unlikely to happen, of course. It is the sort of thing that would only come about because of an eccentric millionaire deciding to take a risk. And it would only survive in a metropolitan location with lots of independent hipster-like film buffs to support it. But it doesn't seem unreasonable to consider alternative, retro businesses being able to survive in the modern world. As soon as CDs supplanted tapes and records, a new niche market of "purists" who prefer LPs popped up. As long as popular culture goes one way there will be stubborn people going the other. Should I one day find myself as an eccentric millionaire, I hope to join those stubborn people in my theatre.

WORLD WAR Z

Max Brooks' book "World War Z" is a masterwork thriller. It drips information about the zombie apocalypse to the reader through short stories, so that as you read the survivors' accounts you piece together a much bigger story. It would make a brilliant anthology series on HBO. They could hand chapters off to individual filmmakers to adapt into hour-long episodes.

But that is not what happened. Rumour is that there was an earlier script that would have made this film 3+ hours and hewn much closer to the book's structure. The rumour also says that it would have been the first Oscar-worthy zombie film.

But that is not what happened. Instead, the filmmakers behind World War Z, including producer Brad Pitt, have looked at the macro-political story that Max Brooks wrote and wrote a Hollywood hero into it. Brad Pitt plays Gerry Lane, a former UN agent who is drafted to find a cure. Forced away from his family to globe-trot the apocalypse, he deals with a variety of situations borrowed equally from zombie films and apocalypse disaster movies.

Plenty of fans of the novel will be disappointed by this. But the fact that the movie follows a new character while (roughly) following the bigger story of the book means that the characters of the novel are out there. They are facing their own apocalypses. They just didn't cross paths with Brad Pitt. Sequels or (hopefully) an HBO series could give them their time on screen, but for now we have this film starring Brad Pitt.

As far as films starring Brad Pitt go, this one is quite good. It didn't try to be funny, which most zombie films do, and the resulting tone was closer to Contagion than Dawn of the Dead. Brad Pitt is a solid leading man as usual. Mireille Enos (The Killing) is his wife, and in her short time on screen she manages to be a competent survivor.

Something that often sinks apocalypse films is a transparently manipulative character. The screaming blond in Jaws 2 should have been the first one eaten, but she stubbornly survives to annoy the audience to the end. Fred Astaire's part in The Towering Inferno was specifically designed to break your heart. 2012 was hemorrhaging selfish and annoying characters to hate. These cheap emotional manipulations reveal bad scripts more often than bad actors, so it was nice to see World War Z did not burden its good cast with cheap tricks.

Perhaps we will see a WWZ adaptation some day, but for now there is a solid zombie thriller starring Brad Pitt that happens to use the same title.

MAN OF STEEL

The undeniably great Christopher Reeve ushered in the first generation of superhero blockbusters with 1979's Superman: The Movie. That generation brought us the Tim Burton Batman and little else of any success. The second generation kicked off with Bryan Singer's X-Men and Sam Raimi's Spider-Man. With the reboot of The Amazing Spiderman, the re-invention of the epic blockbuster in The Avengers, the critical and commercial success of The Dark Knight trilogy, and a new team in X-Men: First Class, we have entered a third generation of superhero films.

Man of Steel is Superman's return to relevance, and his first truly great screen appearance since 1979.

An extended look at a much more realistic Krypton opens Man of Steel, and successfully sets the tone in a much darker way. Despite being Zack Snyder's film, the impact of Christopher Nolan is felt throughout; and although this sacrifices some of the light charm that Reeve's films were known for, it is a firm statement of independence that works in the film's favor.

Unlike previous incarnations, the backstory of Krypton is key to the entire film, and true motivation is developed for Superman's Kryptonian parents and the film's big bad, General Zod (Michael Shannon). Slight alterations to the technology, physics, and explanations of Superman's Kryptonian DNA are brilliant manipulations of the classic story that bring it up to date for a modern superhero blockbuster. Batman Begins started the reset where audiences would not accept a superhero without logic and reason. Man of Steel's creative team, including David S. Goyer and Christopher Nolan, have brought the same respect for the character that rebuilt Batman so effectively.

Henry Cavill, the man who was almost cast as Aragorn then Batman and then James Bond, has finally found his blockbuster franchise. He fits the suit that few mere mortals are physically qualified for, and he manages to pull off the reluctant hero without appearing mopey or frigid. A downside to the origin story that this film tells is that we don't get much of his human alter ego. Part of what made Christopher Reeve's Superman so likeable was his bumbling Clark Kent, but we'll have to wait until the next film to see if Cavill's awkward journalist is as good as his bulletproof hero.

Even though the film revolves around Krypton's destruction, Clark Kent's childhood development in Kansas, and General Zod's escape from the phantom zone for revenge, Man of Steel carves a very original path from the first two Christopher Reeve films. By the credits it has established a new Superman in the same way that JJ Abrams established a new Star Trek. All the characters and elements are present, but they have not been dropped in front of us for no reason. By the end of the film we believe in them, and we see the connections that make them cohesive.

If rumours are true and Man of Steel is the first step towards a larger DC Universe, then it is my hope that the end of the sequel to Man of Steel will tease a new Batman. Then, in The Dark Knight Rises of this franchise, a dual Superman/Batman story can be told. If Warner Brothers is intent to copy Marvel's success, they would be smart to not front-load their franchise. There will be time to introduce Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern (again), and even Aquaman, but the world they have built here is delicate. Realism and logic were put front and center in The Dark Knight trilogy, and now the same has been done for Superman, which many people (including me) did not expect. Hopefully good writing and forward thinking will win out over immediate greed.

Hollywood Meltdown?

Predicting the future is like sex; everyone wants to do it, lots of people think they are good at it, but nothing is certain until you can examine it in the past at which point it turns out Nostradamus was weak in the sack. I may have stretched that simile too far, but my point is that predicting the future is a tricky business. It always helps to be well-researched and in a position of expertise talking about what you are predicting.

That is why the recent E3 Q&A with Steven Spielberg and George Lucas was a bit concerning. Here are some of the highlights:

Spielberg: "The big danger is that there's eventually going to be a big meltdown where three or four, maybe even a half a dozen of these mega-budgeted movies are going to go crashing into the ground. That's going to change the paradigm again."

The "again" that Spielberg mentions is likely the late-80s blockbuster crash where films like Waterworld and Michael Camino's Heaven's Gate (which is returning to theatres curiously enough) sent some of the big production houses into bankruptcy and sent Hollywood scrambling for the next new thing. This resulted in careers for people like Quentin Tarantino, Christopher Nolan, and John Lasseter, and made the 90s an art house response to the 80s blockbuster mania.

Spielberg: "You're at the point right now where a studio would rather invest $250 million in one film for a real shot at the brass ring than make a whole bunch of really interesting, deeply personal projects that may get lost in the shuffle."

Sad but true, the budgets of some of the upcoming films are staggeringly huge. $180 million for Pacific Rim or $225 for Man of Steel. Compare that to the $8 million it cost to make Pulp Fiction or even $63 million for SFX-heavy film The Matrix. And Life of Pi was proof that if you are willing to screw over the SFX artists who make the movie so good, you can cut costs even more, but that is a rant for a different article.

The point Spielberg and Lucas are trying to make is that the bubble will soon burst, just like it did before, but they also cite VOD streaming services like Netflix and specialty programming channels like HBO as being a new factor in the paradigm shift.

When the blockbuster bubble broke in the 80s there were small film studios, emerging artists, and opening foreign markets to build the Hollywood system back up. They were starting to see the beginning of digital filmmaking, but the technology to replace celluloid wouldn't arrive until the next decade. This meant that for film-like entertainment the public still had only one option. This is no longer the case with thousands of specialty channels, multiple streaming services, and endemic piracy. If Hollywood were to stop operating tomorrow there would still be the last season of Breaking Bad, the next HBO biopic movie, and whatever Netflix decides to release next as exclusive content. I'd also point out there are films made in countries all around the world, but getting North American audiences to watch something with subtitles is something only Quentin Tarantino can manage.

These giants of Hollywood, the men who literally invented the summer blockbuster, are predicting doom for the industry where movie theatres will be reduced to expensive special occasions and the dominant cinema screen will be the TV in your living room. It's a sad thought, but they seem to be underestimating the next generation of artists and rebels. A common problem for men their age.

The reason Spielberg and Lucas got to be the titans of industry they are today is because they were both extremely motivated and inventive artists. Spielberg overcame the adversity of shooting with a robotic shark on the ocean to make the first real summer blockbuster. And Lucas overcame decades of stigma towards science fiction to make a Best Picture-nominated classic. There are still people like them around. Young artists who have a vision and stick to it are able to overcome miraculous odds. And as long as some of them still love the 2-hour, 3-act Hollywood-style film, they will continue to make them.

Lucas: "The Lincolns are going to be on television."

What Lucas is referring to are the "passion projects" like Spielberg's Lincoln or his own Red Tails. These are the films that don't necessarily fit the pattern of A-list actors, big effects, and happy endings. Personally, I think they are underestimating what could qualify as a passion project, but both films were mired by distribution difficulties. Lincoln was nearly an HBO miniseries, but Spielberg, the man behind Band of Brothers, shouldn't be so negative about what a miniseries can be. I would argue that Band of Brothers qualifies as one of the greatest WWII movies ever made. It just happens to be 10 hours long. But that doesn't reduce the artistic value and storytelling power; it only redirects it.

Anyone who is a fan of Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, or The Wire will understand that being on a smaller screen does not reduce the potential impact. It changes it, of course. A powerful theatrical experience like The Lord of the Rings is not the same as a powerful television experience like The Wire. But there are markets for both, and people like me who will seek out equal amounts.

As long as people have technology to distract them from going outside (and I pray we always do), there will be a market for narrative content. The access routes will change; for every movie theatre that closes there are new channels, new streaming services, and new video hosts like Vimeo. The content will change too. New forms like the webisode emerge and write new rules for length and cinematography and editing, but old forms will continue to be reworked by the artists who love them. Michel Hazanavicius' silent cinema tribute, The Artist may have been seen by very few people, but it is proof that no artform dies as long as someone still cares about it.

STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS

This is the long-awaited sequel to a blockbuster science fiction franchise that has seen highs and lows over the past few decades. It is probably the best indicator of what JJ Abrams will bring to a Star Wars sequel, and I'd say things are looking very good.

After a thrilling James Bond-like opening mission, Kirk and the Enterprise return to Earth. In London, rogue agent John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch) has bombed a Starfleet archive, and Kirk gets permission from Admiral Marcus (Peter Weller) to hunt him down.

From the opening scenario involving primitive aliens, cliff diving, and exploding volcanoes, the film keeps a pace going that would give the original series whiplash. William Shatner's crew may have had time for philosophy and contemplation, but with Chris Pine on the bridge the philosophy must be discussed between phaser blasts. Action fans can rejoice at this. Sometimes the speed and clutter of the frame was overwhelming, but JJ has proved to be a more than capable action director with a clear hold on his audience.

A superficial improvement in the sequel is the reduction of lens flares. It doesn't bother me, but many people complain that the first film includes too many. Happy for you then that JJ is such a nice guy because he has bowed to the people's will and given you what you asked for. Giving the audience what they want, however, is exactly what causes trouble in the film. Not a lot of trouble, but enough to make this sequel not quite as good as its predecessor.

Where the first film had a streamlined plot that spiraled around it's time-travel premise, Into Darkness has an element of chaos that is both good and bad. As the plot unfolds and the villain surprises Kirk, the chaos plays to the danger and suspense that comes with such an unpredictable opponent. But in gaining mystery and suspense the film sacrifices tidy storytelling, which shuffles emotional scenes and action scenes in jarring ways. As far as criticisms go that one is pretty weak, but it's the best description I can give for the slight disappointment I felt.

The writers have picked up the alternate-timeline characters where they were left and have followed them forward with the understanding that even on a new timeline, they could encounter elements of the original series. At times, references to the original series get in the way of good storytelling. This is a problem that only Trek fans will have to deal with, however, since the film as science fiction, as action, as adventure, and as a fun ensemble is solid. Even if references to the original do get in the way, they are such good elements that it would have been a shame to lose them just because Spock Prime (Leonard Nimoy) messed up the timeline.

When sequels like The Dark Knight come along they are met with astonishment because good sequels have been so difficult and rare. Before Nolan returned to Gotham there was only The Godfather Part 2 and The Empire Strikes Back to cited as undeniably great successors. Though I won't place Into Darkness in their league, it is still a fantastic sequel. With JJ doing Star Wars it is unlikely we will see another Star Trek for 3-4 years unless a new director is found, but when the next film comes it will have a lot to live up to in both of its predecessors.

Please avoid spoiling things in your review, thank you very much

WARNING: This review contains complaints about the spoilers (and therefore contains spoilers) that appear in Eli Glasner's review of STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS. At the time of writing I have not seen the film.

I was on the CBC website, and on the sidebar was Eli Glasner's review of JJ Abrams second Star Trek film. I've had my disagreements with what Mr. Glasner has written before, but different opinions are what make talking about movies so much fun. I think he and I could get along well. However, if he is going to be the film critic for the CBC (a job I would do for free, FYI) then he needs to change his style just a little bit.

CBC's only film critic, Eli Glasner

This was written at the top:

*WARNING: Big and small spoilers ahead*

First line and first mistake. Spoiler reviews are for fan sites, places where the people reading it are more likely to be the ones who have already seen it. The CBC is not that place, and you've just turned away part of your audience. If filmmakers can make trailers without spoiling the plot, a critic can write a review with the same restraint.

For example:

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK. Bigger set pieces and higher stakes make this the sequel used to measure all other sequels. With the rebels on the defensive from the icy opening, Episode V relentlessly asserts the terrifying power of Darth Vader and the Emperor. 5/5

And I managed to write that without revealing that Darth Vader is Luke's (WORTHLESS PLACE FOR A SPOILER ALERT) father.

I'm comfortable in my knowledge that I didn't spoil anything in that previous sentence, by the way, since it is right up there with the meaning of "Rosebud" for movie surprises that most everyone knows. If it weren't I would have made sure to warn much earlier than the word before, which brings me to my biggest problem with Mr. Glasner's review:

"Trek fans will know him better by his other (SEMI-OBVIOUS SPOILER) name."

Maybe I am idealistic. Maybe I am foolish. But I managed to keep myself in darkness about the possibilities surrounding the new film's villain. There are so many things wrong with Mr. Glasner's word choice here that I felt I had to comment.

1. Putting (SEMI-OBVIOUS SPOILER) in bold capitals draws attention to it. I understand that is usually the point with spoiler alerts, but it is a problem when you consider...

2. Context is everything. I learned the meaning of the word "obfuscate" because it was used in a sentence regarding the concealment of facts. Context taught me a new word, which is what context always does. It is a major part of how we gain vocabulary. Delete the spoiler parenthesis and you get, "Trek fans will know him better by his other name." Oh dear, what could that be? A villain with a famous name in Star Trek history. James T. Kirk is not Batman; he doesn't have a roll call of dozens of famous villains. This is not how you hide facts.

3. Links are words too. Mr. Glasner made the word "name" into a hyperlink to the relevant clip of William Shatner. I didn't need to click on it to get the name, I only needed to roll over and have the web address pop up reveal it for me.

All of my gripes are itty bitty things that most people won't care about. And I will readily admit that the spoiler of the villain's identity was not something I found very shocking since it has been in the rumour mill since 2009. But if Mr. Glasner is going to be the only film critic for the national broadcaster of Canada, then I want him to do a better job.

Film reviews should elicit the same excitement that a movie advertisement can have, urging people to see something good when they may have otherwise skipped it. Or it should dilute the artificial excitement of a well-marketed bad movie so that bad filmmakers stop getting the wrong idea from big opening weekends. This is what Roger Ebert was so wonderful at. He poked holes in the inflated egos of bad movies, and he threw his mighty love of film behind the underdogs that deserve it. And he did this without writing spoiler warnings in bold capitals.

Top 10 "old" movies I saw for the first time this year

THE LIMEY (1999)

Terence Stamp plays a dangerous Englishman, his signature role, and Peter Fonda is the man who may be responsible for the death of Stamp’s daughter. Director Steven Soderbergh’s most-brilliant choice in the film is to use footage from Poor Cow, a 1967 film Stamp made with Ken Loach, as flashback footage for The Limey. It’s remarkable how seeing a significantly younger version of the lead actor, instead of a look-a-like, can impact the reality of the new performance.

DECONSTRUCTING HARRY (1997)

Woody Allen has made at least one film every year since 1976. I’ve been slowly making my way through them (out of order). Most critics agree that there was a “dark period” from the early 90s until Match Point in 2005 where Allen’s films were not very good. Right in the middle of all that, however, is this ensemble comedy about a writer and his creations and all of the lies that come with them. A standout section involves Robin Williams as an actor who has “lost his focus” and is literally blurry and out of focus to everyone around him.

THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS (1992)

The 2-CD soundtrack to this film was always loaded into the household’s 6-CD changer when I was a kid. I learned to love the music even though I was too young to see the film. Somehow I only got around to watching it this year, and I’m not sure if I’m glad or not. I can appreciate its technique more because I’m older, but the film has such grandeur that I can imagine my younger self would have been even more swept up in the its romantic power.

THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH (1976)

Some films are good because you see how everything works and it’s all a well-oiled narrative machine. Others are good because they force you to ask questions and wonder about the “meaning” of the story. Nicolas Roeg’s science-fiction drama is firmly in the second category alongside 2001: A Space Odyssey and Barton Fink. But one thing that is clear is David Bowie has been a capable actor from the very beginning.

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)

When I watched Frankenstein I was disappointed with how dated it was, so I didn’t look up the sequel until I saw the film Gods and Monsters about the films’ director. I was shocked. This film restores the monster’s voice, pulling inspiration from the original novel even more than the first film. The character of the Bride is legitimately disturbing, and there are special effects shots that still stand up to scrutiny.

KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN (1985)

A major influence on the independent cinema of the 80s and 90s, this is the story of two men (Raul Julia and William Hurt) held for political reasons in a South American prison. The anonymity of the country and its politics pushes this in the direction of Kafka and Orwell. And despite being from 1985, William Hurt’s Oscar-winning performance as the effeminate gay Luis is very genuine and free of dated stereotypes.

THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE (1962)

There is a scene in the original Manchurian Candidate where the POWs are being brainwashed, and the cartoonish, evil doctor is walking around. The scene is almost laughable until one man is ordered to shoot another and the wall is splattered with blood. It’s the sort of thing you expect from modern films, but to see it in 1960s black and white is truly shocking. Also, Angela Lansbury, that nice lady from Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Murder She Wrote, is one evil mother.

THE HILL (1965)

A military detention camp in the Libyan Desert has a lone hill of sand at its center. As the men are forced to repeatedly charge up and over with heavy packs, the camera follows them in long tracking shots, meaning their pain and exhaustion is completely authentic. This is another great anti-war film in the vein of Paths of Glory. Sean Connery stars. Sydney Lumet directs. And it’s in black and white, and not the pre-50s “everything is in black and white,” but the post-1960 “moral ambiguity looks best in monochrome” black and white.

THE THIRD MAN (1949)

Pulp Western writer Holly Martins arrives in post-war Vienna looking for an old friend who promised him a job, but on arrival he discovers that his friend was killed by a car while crossing the street. This turns out to be just the start of a twisting noir thriller with Orson Welles’ most dashing performance, and an unforgettable zither soundtrack.

THE LION IN WINTER (1968)

Modern film actors play medieval royalty. The theatrical dialogue abandons authenticity to be an unrelenting battle of wits. King Henry II (Peter O’Toole) lets Queen Eleanor (Katharine Hepburn) out of prison for Christmas. Their sons, including Anthony Hopkins as Richard the Lionhearted, round out the happy family as the King negotiates with young King Philip II of France (Timothy Dalton). Every scene crackles with so much energy that it is shocking the film is not yet available on blu-ray.

OLYMPUS HAS FALLEN

So here’s the thing about action movies: ever since Die Hard, Hollywood has been trying to make another Die Hard. They’ve done every variation of hostage situation including several more office buildings, they’ve done every type of non-American villain except Canadian, and they’ve given every macho leading man from Harrison Ford to Alec Baldwin (in 1990) a shot at the title. But even Bruce Willis as John McClane fighting Russian terrorists in A Good Day to Die Hard couldn’t recapture the magic. Now it’s Antoine Fuqua’s chance to direct, and Gerard Butler’s chance to play the hero. Are the elements that make up the bones of Die Hard present? Yes. Do they work? No.

Secret Service agent Mike Banning (Butler) is kicked off the President’s detail when he fails to save the First Lady from a car crash. Eighteen months later and he is working at the Treasury Department on the day that the South Korean delegation is visiting President Asher (Aaron Eckhart). Then a gunship bomber flies over DC and starts shooting at anything and anyone, tourist groups turn out to be heavily armed infantry, and part of the South Korean delegation turn out to be the bad guys. The fact that one of them is played by the diamond-faced villain from Die Another Day could have been a clue.

With the President and VP taken hostage and the White House occupied, the government is handed over to Speaker of the House Morgan Freeman. He has a character name, but all you need to know is he’s Morgan Freeman, which is good because that’s all the filmmakers give you. Party affiliations and character development have no place in action movies.

Something I hadn’t considered in my excitement to see Die Hard at the White House was that the whole “lone hero” scenario requires removing the other heroes. Washington DC has a lot of possible heroes to remove, and this means that the debut siege is a bloodbath. This sequence is one of the most original in the film, and it feels like the part that got the script the green light, but it resembles Saving Private Ryan more than anything from the Nakatomi Building.

It may be unfair for me to constantly compare this film to Die Hard, but I can easily see Gerard Butler’s character going home to watch the Bruce Willis classic and saying, “Why doesn’t he just shoot them in the head? He should just shoot them in the head. Do you think he considered just shooting them in the head?” I didn’t even try to count how many Full Metal Jacket brain splatters were the result of Butler firing a perfectly-aimed shot.

An essential part of the lone hero action film is the hero’s motivation. It’s not good enough that he wants to be a good guy and save everyone. John McClane would have left the building if his wife weren’t in the hostages. The same goes for Harrison Ford in Air Force One. Gerard Butler’s only motivation seems to be doing his job, which is fairly weak as far as action movies go.

But, at the halfway point, the film did not deserve much scorn. It succeeded in delivering what the trailers promised, which was a lot of action in the relatively new setting of the White House. However, in the second half, there is a device introduced that rises to Dr. Strangelove levels of stupidity solely for the purpose of raising the stakes higher than they needed to go. Nothing is easier to mock than a ticking clock, and a couple of plot contrivances leading up to it doesn’t help the believability.

As far as action movies go, there have been plenty worse, and if you don’t mind blood this was a worthy popcorn flick. It’s not challenging or particularly well-crafted, but it does what it set out to do.

By the way, if Olympus Has Fallen sounds interesting, but the theaters drop it before you get a chance to go, don’t worry. Roland Emmerich is remaking it with Channing Tatum and Jamie Foxx. White House Down opens June 28.

OZ: THE GREAT AND POWERFUL

The great debate over 3D rages on, and Oz the Great and Powerful is the latest battleground. The critics are split; some say 3D should be innocuous and intended to build on quality storytelling, but some say that 3D should remember its roots as a 1950s novelty and throw things out of the screen. Oz falls into the second category with spears, flying monkeys, carnivorous trees, and bubbling fog all flying out to the audience. I decided to save a few bucks and went to the 2D, which may have been a mistake. From the animated credits it was clear that Sam Raimi was playing to the 3D crowd next door. Also it was an afternoon show, so my seat was being kicked and a small blonde child was practicing the hundred meter dash in the aisle (I thought I should mention that in case my review sounds bitter).

The movie opens in black and white Kansas with the frame cut off at the old 4:3 ratio. Oz (James Franco) is a magician working in a traveling circus. He is selfish, deceitful, and as much of a womanizer as children’s films allow. Plenty of great films have sleazy leading men who see the error of their ways, but this opening sequence is missing any kind of villain to contrast with the charming hero. When Rick first appears in Casablanca we like him not because he’s a sharp-tongued rogue, but because he’s a sharp-tongued rogue outwitting Nazis. Here, Franco is just the least honest man in a room of nice country people, and the intro sequence suffers as a result.

When Oz’s hot air balloon is tossed around by a tornado the visuals kick in. Broken fence posts stab at Oz through the floor and wagons crash into the screen as the noise rages on. Finally calm air returns and the screen transforms into panoramic colour. One thing that cannot be faulted is the film’s production design. The look of the original 1939 film is recreated and expanded very effectively. Although the movie is claimed to be based on the books, it is clearly inspired most by the original musical.

References to The Wizard of Oz imagery are everywhere. Rainbow arcs appear in clouds and tree branches through the whole film to the point of overkill. In one respect Raimi did hold back, which is referring to the original film’s trio of characters. A lion makes a fun appearance, and we meet a man who makes scarecrows, but other than these little nods the film is mostly concerned with the love triangle (or square?) of Oz and the three witches.

Michelle Williams is the bubble-powered Glinda, Rachel Weisz is the uncomplicated evil witch Evanora, and Mila Kunis is the naive Theodora. The relationships of these three with Oz appear a little one-sided, and are only marginally better than Twilight in terms of inspiring female role models. Also, since this is essentially a prequel, the original film’s ending is given a depressing new twist with Oz abandoning Glinda to return to Kansas with a younger woman. But, all that aside, the three leading women are all great actors and they are performing in the slightly exaggerated style that classic Hollywood and children’s films demand.

When Glinda brings Oz into her protected kingdom there is a sequence where a bunch of townspeople explain exactly what they do; someone sews, someone makes bread, someone builds scarecrows, etc. Unfortunately this is not the only scene where people voluntarily say exactly what they do. The script is filled with exposition where characters simple state their intentions. If this weren’t aimed at children I’d say it was criminally lazy writing, but I have to remind myself again that this is targeted at kids who have recently hit the age where The Wizard of Oz is first experienced. Clarity is expected.

Without the dazzle of 3D I was left to look at the quality of the story, the script, and the acting, none of which are the film’s strength. It’s worth looking at for the visuals of the production design. I wouldn’t say that it is a terrible otherwise, since it easily outdoes other revisitations of children’s classics (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory comes to mind), but it isn’t great, and unless you’re under 10 it isn’t powerful.

Thinking Inside the Box

When film studios introduced the larger Cinemascope screen, artist Jean Cocteau said, “The next time I write a poem I’ll use a big sheet of paper.” Lately it seems filmmakers have forgotten that bigger is not always better, and that Cocteau was being sarcastic.

Clear and concise stories told in a limited space have, it seems, gone out of fashion. At least for the big names. I love the work that Christopher Nolan is doing, but every film he makes is bigger in every way it is possible to be. He uses more characters in more settings, and he even uses IMAX cameras. It is a perfectly acceptable storytelling form (one that Hollywood will continue using as blockbusters become their main income), but it should not be the only one. Storytellers should remember the power of the confined setting.

Die Hard. The Shining. Jaws. These are classic blockbusters, and each one includes drastically confined settings. An office building. A hotel. A three-man boat. To expand beyond these settings would spell doom for the narrative impact. In the Die Hard sequels the filmmakers face diminishing quality as the single building was traded in for an airport, a city, and then a state.

Take for example one of the finest directors in history, Alfred Hitchcock. In Rear Window he confines the main character, a photographer, to a wheel chair and points him out his apartment window. Dial M For Murder also takes place within a single apartment, and so does Rope, which Hitchcock filmed with only 11 shots to create the illusion of a single take. Hitchcock’s masterpiece of confined setting is Lifeboat, which he convinced John Steinbeck to write the story for. After a German U-Boat sinks an Allied ship in WWII, survivors in a lifeboat rescue one of the German crew and must decide his fate. These confined settings build tension and drama in the same way as many stage plays. Hitchcock understood conflict is stronger when characters are unable to avoid it.

Most of my examples have been thrillers, but the power of a confined space to drive people crazy can be funny as well as horrifying. It just depends where the writer takes things. Consider The Odd Couple, Arsenic and Old Lace, Oscar, or Noises Off, which are very funny films based on very funny plays. Film has the same opportunities for comedy as the stage, and sometimes more because of the opportunity to do a second take. Non-play adaptations like The Breakfast Club, The Terminal, Clue, and The Ref use the confined spaces of a school, an airport, a mansion, and a suburban home to take conflict to hilarious new levels.

Filmmakers have not forgotten this entirely, and many young filmmakers (working with limited budgets) have taken advantage of this. Kevin Smith began a very successful career with Clerks, which spends most of its time in and around a convenience store. Duncan Jones made Moon, which focuses almost exclusively on Sam Rockwell and Sam Rockwell in a lunar mining facility. Director Rodrigo Cortés and writer Chris Sparling made an impressive debut when they convinced Ryan Reynolds to spend the 95 minute runtime of Buried inside a coffin.

Buried is an interesting example of how limited space can be taken too far. They should have considered the power of 12 Angry Men, where the limited space builds tension as director Sidney Lumet moves the cameras lower and closer to the characters stuck together in the hot jury room. When the claustrophobia reaches unbearable heights the film hits its climax, and then, in the final shot, the audience is treated to the relief of the wide open streets outside the courthouse. This was where the makers of Buried failed to take advantage of their hard-earned claustrophobia; instead of building to an exhilarating release, they bury the audience along with the main character. Part of the power of a limited space comes from contrasting it with its opposite.

Perhaps the best recent example of limited space is Life of Pi. The film’s most powerful sequences involve the isolation of Pi and Richard Parker in the middle of a mirror-smooth ocean. The contrast of the infinite space with the rigid confines of the boat makes us feel Pi’s isolation, and the tiny set allows for an examination of detail that would be missed in a larger location. We come to know the physical world that Pi is confined to in far more detail than we will ever know Pandora from Avatar, no matter how many sequels James Cameron makes. As a result of our detailed understanding, we are more connected to the characters and their struggle.

In terms of film narratives, bigger is not always better. As long as film is limited to the four corners of the frame, no grand worlds can be shown in full. But, if focus is brought down to the level of small things in small places, it is possible to see something in its entirety, which can have powerful results.

Old Dog, New Tricks: The Case of ELEMENTARY

CBS chose to update Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes to the modern world by placing him in New York City with a female Dr. Watson as his guide. This twist on an old standard allowed gender politics and trans-Atlantic culture shock to take Doyle’s original formula in a new direction, and to play with the fish out of water scenario faced by a Victorian detective who is cryogenically frozen until the 1980s; this was The Return of Sherlock Holmes, a CBS TV movie that aired in 1987. Six years later CBS tried again with Sherlock Holmes Returns, which saw the detective awoken from suspended animation by an earthquake in San Francisco. In both cases, the modern world is presented as the real world, where Sherlock Holmes has been made famous by Doyle’s writing. Neither were successful, and modern-set Sherlock Holmes took a backseat to more traditional adaptations, such as Sherlock Holmes and the Baker Street Irregulars (2007) starring Jonathan Pryce. Sherlock Holmes (2009) starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law brought a new angle on the character by turning him into an action hero at the heart of a Hollywood blockbuster, but the Victorian setting remained. It was Sherlock (2010-), a BBC series starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, that first brought the characters into the modern world in a way audiences wanted to watch. The success of the BBC inspired CBS to give it one more try. Lucy Liu followed Alec Baldwin’s lead to reinvigorate a waning film career by headlining a television series, and CBS chose Cumberbatch’s Frankenstein co-star Jonny Lee Miller to play their take on the modern detective. Dr. Watson is an American surgeon. Holmes is a recovering addict. Cryogenics and meta-fictional Arthur Conan Doyle are nowhere to be seen. In Elementary, series creator Robert Doherty has taken the bare bone structure that has allowed these characters to endure and injected the dark humor, liberal politics, and five-act plots of other CBS procedurals like CSI. The result is the entertaining illusion of new material, or what the tagline for the premier summarized as, “New Holmes. New Watson. New York.” (IMDb)

An American one-hour drama, like Dexter or CSI: New York, adheres to an act structure, as all mainstream drama does. Stage plays favor two acts. Many Hollywood films contain three acts. Elementary is divided into five. Act one (a few minutes shorter than the rest) establishes both the mostly-serious main plot and the sometimes-comical subplot, and it ends with the title sequence. Act two expands on the details of the main plot, ending with a complication. Act three repeats the structure of act two. Act four deals with the fallout of the complications and ends with either a surprise reveal or another murder. Act five wraps up the main plot via Sherlock’s outside-the-box thinking and Watson’s medical knowledge, and the subplot is resolved with a relationship-building moment between Sherlock and Watson, which sometimes reveals details of Sherlock’s mysterious personal history. In this way the predictable act structure reinforces expectations of character development, and establishes a pattern for the writers to develop the characters over the entire series. When questions about Sherlock or Watson remain at the end of the episode the audience does not feel cheated like they would at the end of a film because they know that the pattern will repeat in the next episode. The predictable act structure is central to the dramatic language writers use to communicate stories to audiences, and Elementary follows that tradition in every way.

A second key to dramatic language is in character archetypes. Sherlock Holmes is a character that the audience can instantly recognize; he is intelligent, witty, highly capable at logical thinking, very good at his profession, and has one debilitating personal flaw. Like an act structure, he is a familiar form that the writers can hang new ideas on. He can be written to be a bitter doctor (House), a rule-driven serial killer (Dexter), an obsessive-compulsive former cop (Monk), an empathetic FBI investigator (Hannibal) or a recovering-addict detective. Part of the Sherlock archetype is the relationship to Dr. Watson. Joan Watson is an upstanding professional, she is an expert in her field, but she is often baffled by the thought processes that drive Sherlock Holmes. She is an accomplished surgeon, which is often key to her part in the solution of a mystery. During the series’ lighter moments these two characters operate as a double act, like George Burns and Gracie Allen or Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis. In terms of archetype, Watson is the “straight man.” The comedy element of the series is given more or less weight depending on the seriousness of the main plot. In “Possibility Two” Watson is tested by Sherlock by being sent to a shady laundromat, and her lighter story balances the relative seriousness of the main plot. In many ways the comedy of Elementary is based on the absurdity provided by Sherlock’s personality and methods being reflected against Watson’s “normalcy.”

Absurdity, at least in dramatic narratives, can fall into a gray area for believability. Rabid fans of a series or filmmaker sometimes forgive awkward plotting, contradictions, and deus ex machina endings, but venomous critics pounce on the same moments to dismiss the work as amateurish. In the case of a deus ex machina, where a sudden reversal of fortune comes as if by “an act of God”, the audience will feel cheated unless there is a value in ignoring it. Screenwriting lecturer Robert McKee calls the deus ex machina an “insult to the audience… because it is a lie.” (358) But these contrived plots can be made palatable in a few different ways. Jurassic Park, for example, ends with the T-Rex appearing from no where to save the main characters from a velociraptor; had it not come at the end of a very tense action scene with spectacular CGI, the audience would have cared about the absurdity.

Elementary uses the established genius of Sherlock Holmes to hide absurd plotting from the audience. In "The Deductionist," the fifth act confrontation is reached when Sherlock tracks the killer to his hideout by triangulating radio signals he heard in the background of the killer's call to the police. Comparing signal strengths and recognizing a "microbroadcaster" Sherlock is able to deduce the exact location, where he lays in wait for the killer to return. The fact that the killer was scanning radio stations while talking to the police is explainable and ironic; he was trying to cover up background noise that would betray his location. The fact he was near to a "microbroadcaster" was convenient, but not unreasonable in New York City, which has 112 registered broadcasters (radio-locator). However, the fact that Sherlock was able to recognize and triangulate the stations is only an acceptable solution because Sherlock Holmes is an established genius. In “The Red Team” Sherlock allows himself to be taken hostage by a military advisor who is planning to murder his former colleagues who know the details of a dangerous plan. In the climax Sherlock confesses that he has already written down the details of the plan, which makes any attempt to cover it up through murder pointless. It turns out that he was bluffing, and only through his super-human intellect did he manage to figure out the plan himself while being held captive. The absurdity in this episode is that Sherlock is able to calculate in a few minutes the top secret military strategy that took several experts months to invent.

With the plot structure of CSI and the archetype characters of Arthur Conan Doyle, Elementary is a revitalized, “new” take on old material, and it is part of a current trend in television. Bates Motel takes the narrative established in Robert Bloch’s Psycho, made famous by Alfred Hitchcock’s film, and sets the originating events in motion in the modern world. Hannibal takes the novels of Thomas Harris and elaborates on the previously unwritten story of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter’s relationship before Red Dragon. House of Cards is an American adaptation of a British political series. Battlestar Galactica: Blood and Chrome is a prequel series to the remake of Battlestar Galactica. All of these new shows have recycled some or all of the characters, structures, and plots of previous work. This is not surprising, but it is indicative of a larger issue facing the film and television industries.

When television made multiple channels of visual media available to an audience in their living room, the film industry was forced to respond by creating theatrical experiences that television could not match. The technicolor boom of musicals followed by the breakdown of the Hayes Code regulations meant that movie theaters could offer content that was both visually more impressive and thematically more adult. (Cousins 223) New media based on internet streaming has further expanded television’s reach to the audience, and the film industry has responded with expanding on digital technologies like motion capture and pushing for more content in 3D.

Alongside the film industry’s reaction to television stealing its audience, the television industry is faced with a pressure to meet the needs of its larger audience. Living room access demanded constant new content, and the existence of different channels multiplied the demand. Now that internet streaming has made on-demand television content available on every smartphone and tablet, the content requirement has increased. Filling the demand depends on the industry’s creative side, which comes up against the reality that creating a piece of original programming, marketing an unknown actor, and keeping the audience’s attention are difficult obstacles. Removing one or more obstruction by recycling “old” concepts, casting established actors, and falling back on reliable plot devices increases a series’ chance of success. Elementary has succeeded because it does all three.

Few established dynamics are as familiar as Holmes and Watson. Arthur Conan Doyle first introduced Sherlock Holmes in 1888, and he has been adapted and rewritten ever since. (Milos-Plunket) Lucy Liu has 78 titles on her IMDb page going back as far as 1991, and was paid $5.5 million for her role in Kill Bill: Vol. 1. She was an established film star when she took the role of Joan Watson, and she follows other established actors like Ashley Judd (The Missing), William H. Macy (Shameless), Glenn Close (Damages), Jeremy Irons (The Borgias), and Dustin Hoffman (Luck) in moving to television. And the plots of Elementary, although tailored to fit the characters, are standard television mysteries that could have appeared in any of the other series fitting the amateur detective-duo mould.

The idea to take old concepts and give them “new” twists is as old as storytelling; the ancient Greeks retold the same stories in different ways; Shakespeare based several plays on past works; even Alfred Hitchcock remade his 1934 film The Man Who Knew Too Much with Jimmy Stewart in 1956. (IMDb) The BBC reinvented Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson for the modern world in 2010, and CBS has followed their lead, which has resulted in one of the most popular new shows of the 2012 Fall season (Huff Post). In “Snow Angels,” Doyle’s Miss Hudson is re-introduced as a transgendered woman; this is only the most recent example of how the series is combining current trends, such as including LGBT characters, with established forms. Until the television industry is so flush with talent and original content that the audiences don’t have enough hours in the day to take it in, there will be a pattern of rewriting old forms, attaching new performers to the surface, and reciting old plots. And the television industry will never be that flush with talent. The upside, from a critical point of view, is that even working within these “old” forms, creativity can present the entertaining illusion of something “new.”

Works Cited

Cousins, Mark. The Story of Film. London: Pavillion Books, 2006. Print.

Huff Post. Elementary’ Renewed For Season 2 Along With 13 Other CBS Series. Huffington Post. 28 March 2013. Web. 10 April 2013. <http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/03/27/elementary-renewed-season-2-cbs_n_2965937.html>

IMDb. Lucy Liu (I). Internet Movie Database. April 2013. Web. 10 April 2013. <http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005154/bio>

IMDb. Sherlock Holmes (Character). Internet Movie Database. 2013. Web. 10 April 2013. <http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0026631/>

Jurassic Park. Dir. Steven Spielberg. Perf. Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Jeff Goldblum, Richard Attenborough. Universal, 1993. DVD.

McKee, Robert. Story. New York: Harper-Collins, 1997. Print.

Milos-Plunket, Andrea. The Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Literary Estate. Andrea Milos-Plunket. 2000. Web. 10 April 2013. <www.sherlockholmesonline.org>

“Possibility Two.” Elementary. Dir. Seith Mann. Perf. Jonny Lee Miller, Lucy Liu. CBS. Global, Vancouver, 21 Feb. 2013. Television.

Radio-Locator. Radio Stations in New York, New York. Theodric Technologies LLC. 2013. Web. 10 April 2013. <http://www.radio-locator.com/cgi-bin/locate?select=city&city=New%20York&state=NY>

“Snow Angels.” Elementary. Dir. Andrew Bernstein. Perf. Jonny Lee Miller, Lucy Liu. CBS. Global, Vancouver, 4 April 2013. Television.

“The Deductionist.” Elementary. Dir. John Polson. Perf. Jonny Lee Miller, Lucy Liu. CBS. Global, Vancouver, 3 Feb. 2013. Television.

“The Red Team.” Elementary. Dir. Christine Moore. Perf. Jonny Lee Miller, Lucy Liu. CBS. Global, Vancouver, 31 Jan. 2013. Television.