“One does not inhabit a country; one inhabits a language. That is our country, our fatherland – and no other.”
— Emil Cioran, Anathemas and Admirations, 1987
A good friend of mine disclosed publicly yesterday that he had never seen “The Lost Boys” (1987). The poor, benighted soul. And this is one of my Mary Washington College alums too!! (Even his wife was taken aback at the glaring omission in his 80’s pop culture experience.)
I habitually break my reading glasses by either stepping or sitting on them. So I stocked up on a bunch of cheap pairs at the start of the Covid pandemic, because I am totally not down with any of that “Time Enough At Last” horseshit.
I even fell into the habit of tossing the broken pairs into the same drawer, in hoarder-like fashion. (Am I supposed to repair them someday, maybe? Glasses repair is not really a thing with me.)
Anyway, that drawer has reached the point where I look like a serial killer who bludgeons nerdy, frugal, fashion-blind men over the head and then takes their glasses as trophies — like some pathetic riff on the alien “Predator” (1987).
I need to leave a note in that drawer to exonerate myself to the police — in case I die in my sleep or something.
“Batman: Year One – Chapter Four: Friend in Need.” DC Comics.
This is just another strange ad campaign from the 1980’s — Spuds Mackenzie was the mascot for Bud Light. People went nuts for the dog — the campaign spawned a ton of merchandising. (People in the 80’s got worked up over the damnedest things.)
In the interest of full disclosure, I will confess here that I myself owned a Spuds MacKenzie button at the close of the decade. I wore it on my dark gray denim jacket — along with a bunch of other arbitrarily selected buttons that I thought made me look extremely cool. (It was a late-80’s thing.) Hell, I even wore that jacket-and-button ensemble during the first semester at Mary Washington College.
Weird world — Spuds was actually a female dog. She was a rescue dog, and she was named “Honey Tree Evil Eye.” (I feel certain there is an interesting story behind that.) And Mothers Against Drunk Driving lobbied against the ad campaign as it allegedly targeted children.
“Fear the Walking Dead” has devolved. It’s fallen a long way from its early years as an earnest, deadly serious prequel to “The Walking Dead.” (I, for one, really liked the first season’s creative mix of slow-burn horror and family drama, and I loved the ambitious, milieu-exploring apocalypse-in-progress stories of subsequent seasons.) Today, we’ve reached the point where the show has become so slapdash and campy that you have to wonder whether its creators take it seriously at all.
I’m sorry to say this, but the Season 5 premiere felt like pretty amateurish stuff. Its writing, directing and acting (in some places) were really, really spotty. Its early action set-piece involving a plane crash, for example, was choppy, confusing and awkwardly staged. The plotting and dialogue were … poor.
Even the premiere’s marketing was goofy. Its television ads seemed like an intentional self-parody — like maybe a Saturday Night Live skit lampooning zombie shows. (See below.) The poster is a mess too — even if the center image’s suggestion that John Dorie is a gunslinging Christ figure is pretty damned nifty.
With all of this said, it may surprise you that I still liked the episode well enough, and I’ll still watch the show. I’d rate the premiere a 7 out of 10, because “Fear the Walking Dead” still has its merits. I can think of three reasons in particular why I still had fun with the premiere, and why I’ll still tune in next Sunday.
First, some of the characters are terrific. I’ll always love Victor Strand (Colman Domingo). I really like Dorie (Garret Dillahunt) and his mild-mannered girlfriend, June (Jenna Elfman), and Charlie (Alexa Nisenson) is the kind of child character that typically grows on me. (Let’s hope Dorie’s posture in the poster isn’t a hint about his death.) I still like Morgan, because Lennie James is always a pleasure to watch, even if I don’t share the immense zeal of his legions of fans. (The writers need to do more with him beyond his weird, vaguely “Kung Fu,” born-again altruism. I know he’s supposed to be the Eastern philosophy guy, but his dialogue sometimes makes him come off like a stereotypical, nattering Evangelical.)
The second reason I’ll stay with this show is that its stories move along quickly. There are no static, Negan-centered endless epics here, like there are on this show’s plodding progenitor.
The third reason is this — “Fear the Walking Dead” has always hatched the most creative story ideas. Whatever problems the show might have developed over time with character, dialogue or plot details, the basic story concepts have always been really damned inventive. (They consistently offer much more than “The Walking Dead’s” two boiler-plate plot arcs — group-vs.-group or refuge-with-a-hidden-danger.) This season looks like it will be no exception. There are two major reveals in this episode’s closing minutes. One connects Season 5 with past seasons of “Fear the Walking Dead,” while another is a tantalizing hint about greater forces in the “Walking Dead” universe.
Oh! One more thing! There is an important new character here played by the terrific Matt Frewer. If you’re a true zombie horror fan, then you’ll recognize him as none other than Frank, from Zack Snyder’s superb, unfairly reviled 2004 “Dawn of the Dead” remake. And if you’re an 80’s kid like I am, then you might remember him as the original Max Headroom — from both the Coca-Cola ads and excellent but short-lived 1987 sci-fi series. That’s some pretty fun casting — and the guy is a really good actor.
What’s with all the people in music videos looking so damn young these days? Did they change the child labor laws?
There was a time when I was daily viewer of MTV (the sedate stuff on VH-1 was for old people), and I rocked hard, people. It seemed to me that whenever I watched a video, I saw people who were my own age.
Now these videos are inhabited only by people who look young enough to be my kids. And that makes sense, because … they kinda are young enough. (Yes, I realize the video below for The Calling’s “Wherever You Will Go” was made 18 years ago, but that’s beside the point.) If the performers in a video today were in their very early 20’s, then they’d be about the right age, if I’d fathered kids when I was 26.
Furthermore, some astute commentators pointed out online Monday night that 2019 is the year in which the original “Blade Runner” (1982) was set. The opening title card names “November, 2019” as the time when all things Fordesque turn angsty and existential and killer-androidy. Am I … older than Harrison Ford’s character? I am six years older than Ford was when he made the film.
Now I just feel weird. Why do I write these blog posts, anyway?
[Update: Today I am learning that “Akira” (1988) and “The Running Man” (1987) also set their stories in 2019?! That’s ironic, given that the future we’ve come closest to is that of 2006’s “Idiocracy.”
I wonder how people in our parents’ generation felt when 2001 arrived, if they’d happened to see “2001: A Space Odyssey” in theaters in 1968.]