Movie: Brotherhood of the Wolf (with brutal spoilers)

This weeks' Netflix offering was Brotherhood of the Wolf.  While typing that, two of my cats started fighting, and while I was distracted by them I accidentally typed Brotherhood of the Roof.  That probably would have been a better movie.  Brotherhood of the Wolf seems like a good movie -- if you're not prone to motion sickness and don't put much thought into what's going on.  It's perfectly fine Saturday night eye-candy.  Once you start paying attention, though, it falls apart pretty quickly and pretty badly.

So, where do we want to start with the brutal spoilers?  Oh, let's just jump right into the racism.  You can pretty much sum that up with "Super-Dooper Magical Injun Powers" courtesy of Mani.  Try to figure out why Mani and Fronsac, our hero, are blood brothers.  From what we're told in movie, it seems to boil down to "well, I tried to kill him and didn't do a very good job, and then I felt kinda bad about it, so here we are."

Now of course, you do realize that the Native American will not be allowed to finish the movie alive, right?  I mean, that simply isn't done; happy endings are a white-folks-only club, right?  Unfortunately, killing Mani is kind of hard because his Super-Duper Magical Injun Powers make him hyper-competent.  So, the writers just take that away for no reason.  He just spontaneously loses his competence in the middle of a fight.  What makes this especially bad is that Mani already fought the exact same fight earlier in the movie, down to the same participants.  Yet for some reason in the first fight no one could even touch him, and now he's getting his ass kicked right up until he gets shot.

By the way.  If you're ever part of a super secret conspiracy that kills people several times a month, may I suggest that you not use an extremely distinctive one-of-a-kind bullet to do so?  And that you especially not brag about using them to "sign your shots"?  That little slice of stupid is cause to revoke someone's villain license all on its own.  Also, the ballistics of a silver bullet suck horribly.  Geeky types have tested this several times.  Silver bullets just don't have the weight or dimensional stability during casting to be effective.

The racism's pretty bad, but you can kind of turn your head and pretend you didn't see it or tell yourself that maybe they were at least trying.  Let's be honest.  We've all had to learn to do that somewhat with movies if we ever want to watch any of them, because there's so much of this stuff out there.  The sexism is a similar story, except worse.  We have a monster that attacks only women and children.  They specifically say that it avoids men.  Gee, thanks movie.  And of course that means every once in a while we get to watch a woman be brutally slaughtered by a large CGI animal.  Lovely.  Then there's the feral gypsy woman who I don't think ever actually has a speaking line -- but sure gives a lot of lusty grunts.  Why was she even there?  You could easily take her out of the movie without losing anything at all.  Then, just because apparently we haven't brutalized enough women yet, at 2 hours into a 2 and a half hour movie they suddenly decide to introduce an incest subplot and subsequent rape.  Again, thanks, movie.

Even if it weren't for the serious issues above, the movie would still hurt.  They tried much too hard with the cinematography, the plotting goes goofy halfway through, there are continuity errors galore, and our villain's unbelievable idiocy reduced me to hysterical laughter in the final battle.

You know the fight scenes from 300?  Imagine an entire movie filmed that way.  That is basically Brotherhood of the Wolf.  There are maybe 20 minutes of love story break from that, but even that's filled with lots of blatant, sometimes dizzying, camera moves.  Oh, let me tell you, the director loved his dolly cam.  The movie is often described as "visually stunning".  I can't argue with that, but if you've ever studied art, you've learned that the negative space can be just as important as the meat of the image.  That's just as true in a movie, and this one never gives your eyes a chance to rest from the constant movement and pace changes.

Then there's the CGI.  This monster is supposed to be a lion (snert) in armor.  Maybe they could try designing armor that was physically possible, could work without remote control technology that's still 200 years off, and could conceivably be worn by a lion?  Maybe even build a mock-up and use it for some shots.  You know, seeing as how it was 2001 and the ability to convincingly composite CGI with live footage was still quite horrible.  ("Makeup!  Can we get some mud on our monster, please?  And maybe a little blood?  This thing is supposed to have been running around the French countryside during rainy season slaughtering maidens left and right, and the hose hasn't been invented yet.")

And of course, fight scene after fight scene after almost identical fight scene.  By the time we got to Mani's great loss of competence, my reaction was a sarcastic "oh, this is good, because it's completely not like every other shot in the movie."  Honestly, I think they have 30 minutes of main plot, 20 minutes of sub plot, and the rest of the 2 hours 30 minutes is near-identical fight scenes and women being brutally slaughtered by a lion in a stegosaurus suit.

Then there's the plotting.  It starts out OK, except that they don't get around to introducing any significant hint of a conspiracy until halfway through.  They should have introduced that "the beast is proof the King is an idiot" book at the beginning as a reason for our hero to be here.  It would work much better than "well, this thing's been running around for going on 3 years without us even coming close to catching it, but we're sure this is our year so the hero should be here to preserve it when we do."  Nope, no conspiracy until halfway through.  Then half an hour later the writers decide a simple conspiracy just isn't enough and start twisting it into bizarre knots.  And of course they feel a need to suddenly introduce an incest subplot for the first time at the 120 minutes out of 150.  BTW, what the hell was up with Jean-Francois's arm?  There isn't really any plot-driven reason for him to pretend to have lost his arm.  He must have some serious Munchausen Syndrome.  "Pity me, I lost my arm to a lion, wah!"  And like it wouldn't be atrophied after being tied up in his corset 23 hours a day.

That's a perfect lead-in to the continuity errors.  I think my favorite is the magic species changing lamb-goat with a side of self-cleaning peasant dress.


How does an error like that even happen?  "OK, we're done adjusting the lighting and and I'd like to redo that reaction take, so cue the goat. ...  Oh crap, the goat got a little too close to the trained wolves.  Um...  Oh, we have this nice lamb we can use.  I'm sure no one will notice."

Speaking of "no one will notice", when this shep-goatherd lady shows up, don't be surprised if your reaction is "Hey, you died an hour ago!"  Because she was dead about 10 minutes in.  This is the dead-woman-turned-bait from Fronsac's introduction.  That's how bad the monster is: if you're miraculously restored from the dead, it'll kill you again.  (Actually the scenes were rearranged after shooting, and the editors figured that there were so many brutally slaughtered women that surely we wouldn't be able to keep track of them all.)

That's my favorite, but there's some other good ones.  How do you feel about impossible metaknowledge?  When the beast attacks Fronsac and Marianne at her nanny's place, Fronsac tells Marianne to leave slowly and not run, and in the meantime he jumps around like a flea on crack to keep the animals' attention focused on him.  That is indeed a good course of action with a lion if you're trying to keep it from eating your girlfriend; at close distance, felines detect prey by movement.  However, there's no way for him to know this thing is feline.  This is the first time he's ever seen it, and it's completely covered by armor.  Naturalist or not, I find it hard to believe he could identify it that confidently from seeing one leap and 2 steps as it prepared to kill him.

Then there's the flip side of that, the utterly unbelievable lack of knowledge.  This lion in armor has been running around slaughtering women for three years in all seasons, including snowy winters.  Am I seriously to believe it's never left a damn pawprint?  Because that would have made it very obvious very fast that it wasn't a wolf.

Now, maybe all of this could still have been rolled into a good movie if only we had a powerful, competent villain.  Unfortunately, we have Jean-Francois.  Yeah, the guy who hides his arm under a man-corset, develops uncontrollable incestuous lust at the last minute, and uses the incredibly distinctive bullets he bragged about to off people for a super-secret conspiracy.  You know, his brain just sort of falls out of his head 3/4 of the way through the movie.  He's perfectly fine, even kind of cool, throughout most of the movie and then suddenly he's off in skoodily-woodily land.

Then there's his death.  His abso-freaking-lutely hilarious point-and-laugh-until-you-hyperventiliate death.  I'm not sure I can adequately express the sheer hilarity of his death, but I'll give it a go.  First, he shows up to the ultimate fight of his life looking like...  well, looking like this.



::blinkblink:: What do you even say to that? 

Oh, and his weapon of choice is this physics-defying bone-sword-chain-whip thingy.  It would actually be kind of cool, except 1) the movie has poured so much effort into its constant "visual stunningness" that this weapon just kind of blends in with the rest of it, and 2) Jean-Francois has little-to-no idea how to actually use it.  There was a point in here where I shouted at the screen "Dude, he has blocked you three times with the exact same move!  It's time for a different tactic."  Then he gets it stuck around Fronsac's arm and dagger.  I assume he's supposed to be purposely tossing the hero around, but it looks more like he's trying to get his weapon free and in the process is accidentally rolling Fronsac out of the way of the falling architectural debris that would have crushed him to death and ended this.  Well, that's not working, so Jean-Francois gives a good yank, and yanks Fronsac towards him right where Fronsac can just slit his throat.  I don't think Fronsac even meant to do it. He just had his second dagger out and Jean-Francois's throat kind of got in the way.  Well crud.  Now Jean-Francois's throat is cut and he still doesn't have control of his weapon back.  So he gives one last good yank and gets his bone-sword-chain-whip back, but in the process yanks Fronsac's first dagger right into his own chest.  And that's where I started laughing so hard I hyperventilated.  I can't even grant Fronsac the assist on this one.  Jean-Francois was killed by the sheer power of his own astounding incompetence.  It's only by the grace of God (pardon the pun) that he didn't accidentally off himself while practicing one day.

On a positive note, the actual story of the Beast of Gevaudan is quite interesting.  Go read it if you're into that.  I especially found the Asian hyena theory interesting.

So, final recommendation for this movie: if you're looking for some DIY riffing fodder and don't mind a strong R rating, this is a perfect candidate.  It's not completely painful to watch, but there is plenty of riffing opportunity.  If you're looking to disengage your brain and just watch some eye-candy, it's also got potential if you can ignore the racism and sexism and don't ask any pesky questions.  If you're asthmatic, however, I suggest you avoid it; the intense laughter could trigger an attack.

This tragedy could have been prevented with sex toys.

This week's movie is The Barefoot Contessa, and I've just spoiled the whole thing for you with that subject line.  Worse than that, I don't even feel that bad about it.  It's really one of those movies where the journey is at least as important as the end, if not moreso.  Besides, the movie starts at her funeral, and it's not long after we meet Vincenzo that they hint very heavily that he can't get it up.

Honestly, though, if your schwinky was blown off in the war, you really need to tell your bride this before the wedding night.  It gives you two a chance to place an order with Babeland for a good strap-on and a bunch of lube.  At the very least, he could get into it with the oral.  Seriously, dude, this is grounds for annulment.  A little upfront honesty would avoid a lot of embarrassment later on.

Of course, on the other side of that, even if you're 110% certain that having a kid would make your husband happy beyond words, you really need to discuss it with him first.  Especially if he can't help you with that.

So that was the last 20 minutes.  The hour and a half leading up to it was actually quite good.  I like the unexpected character development on Oscar, Vincenzo's introduction makes me fall in love with him at first sight, and Bogart is in top form.

That last one isn't really saying much in my opinion.  I know this is blasphemous to say, but personally, Humphrey Bogart couldn't act.  You watch him saying all these now-famous lines in Casablanca, and he's not saying them as a man about to send the love of his life off with another never to see her again; he's saying them like someone reciting famous lines from Casablanca.  Maltese Falcon, his partner is murdered and he's blamed for it, what's his reaction?  Slightly drunken grumpiness.  That's basically his default setting in every movie he's been in: slightly drunken grumpiness.  I'm telling you, his supporting cast carried him in every single flick.

Nonetheless, the others in Barefoot Contessa do not let him drag it down.  Personally, I think you could cut Bogie out without hurting the movie much at all. 

I'd have to say the biggest problem with Barefoot Contessa is near-fatal metastory.  "If this were a movie, I would have..."  Guys, come off it.  You don't even get the "it was original when we did it" excuse because Arsenic and Old Lace kicked your ass at it 10 years earlier.  (Arsenic and Old Lace's metastory is also near fatal, but in a way that means you'll die laughing.)

On the other hand, you get to watch two insanely rich guys cat fighting, and it's awesome.  I think one of my favorite lines was the retort to the "self-made" rich guy who just accused the hereditary rich guy of never working a day in his life: "You've never worked a day in your life, either.  To make a hundred dollars into a hundred and ten dollars - this is work. To make a hundred million into a hundred and ten million, this is inevitable."

So watch it, enjoy it, debate with friends about whether things would have turned out with a dildo, a butt plug, and a case of KY.

Movie: The Fountainhead (Brutal spoilers)

Alternate title: "Gary Cooper, noooo!"

I know, I know.  Those of you who know me saw the title, spit out your beverage and said "you watched what?!"  Here's the deal.  I know just enough of Ayn Rand's work that I wanted a little more information in order to be able to better criticize it, but at the same time I'm not willing to spend any significant part of my life reading it.  So I figured I'd watch the movie (she even wrote the screen play) and only waste 2 hours instead of 20 or more.  And I was even able to knit while doing so.

Let me tell you, this is a MST3K-worthy movie.  It's basically stretches of diatribe with the occasional break in which absolutely no one talks and characters make completely uncommunicative expressions at each other.  (Grant, are you in love?  Angry?  Sick?  A turtle? I'm not gettin' it.) 

Before I get into that, though, I will say that my opinion of Ayn Rand did increase a little bit after watching this.  That doesn't say much, because my opinion was extremely low before.  Nonetheless, instead of thinking "So, Ayn Rand: narcissist or sociopath?", I came out thinking "Let me guess; preacher's daughter?"  Then I wiki'd her.  Oh.  Russian Jew, daughter of a business owner, revolution in her teens; that explains a LOT.  Actually, I'd say that basically explains it all.

In any event, the Fountainhead doesn't come across as utterly sociopathic, so much as that it grabbed some good ideas and took them to the point where they became twisted and evil.  I'm all for individualism, and critical thought, and creating for the sake of creating without worrying about whether others will like your work.  (Actually trying to cultivate that last one myself.)  But I do not at all want to live in a world where the pinnacle of human existence is a rapist who blows up a building because he doesn't like the changes made to his design and then walks out of the room when he knows his best friend is about to kill himself.  That's one fucked up fantasy world Rand's built there.

(Ayn actually wrote this movie on the condition that her script not be edited in any way, much like her character designed the apartment complex he blew up on the condition that the plans not be changed in anyway.  She had a hissy when the makers wanted to trim the longest speech in a movie to date.  I'm trying to decide if the makers were brave, or stupid.  They did back down and show it in its rambling entirety.  Probably afraid she was going to blow up the lot if they didn't.)

(I doubt SHE would have gotten an acquittal for it.)

So, the movie.  It's not a good sign when the first line makes you snert.  "There's no room for originality in architecture."  SNERT.
"There's no room for mathematics in engineering!"
"There's no room for woodwork in carpentry!"
>Snort<   Yeah, that Frank Lloyd Wright guy, he's never going to amount to anything.  I mean, who's ever heard of him?

You know what they call an architect with no originality?  Unemployed.  But then again, the first five minutes of the movie are people spouting things that no one in professional architecture has ever actually said without being fired on the spot.  The next 20 minutes are solid diatribe, followed by some mooney eyes that end in about as blatant a rape scene as I can imagine someone making in 1949.  When a woman attempts to flee out two different exits, is crying, and scratches the hell out of the guy, that is a rape.  Pretty hard to deny, actually. 

[Supposedly Rand said "if it was rape, it was rape by engraved invitation."  Further proof that Ayn Rand was really messed up in the head.  Personally, just because I wanted to boink a guy a few days ago when I invited him over once doesn't mean I still want to boink him when he breaks into my house later in the week after I've slapped him and stormed off when he called me a slut.  The invitation was pretty clearly rescinded.)

Then back to more diatribe.  The rest of the movie is basically diatribe and disturbing fantasy world.  It just kind of beats you about the ears.  Really, it couldn't be more heavy handed if it were wearing lead gloves.

So, actors/characters:

Gary Cooper: I'm trying to decide if he was really off, or if this was an example of his acting range.  See, I'm pretty sure that the character of Howard Roark was supposed to be played as an ambulatory block of wood, and that's exactly what Gary does.
(I look at Cooper in his role, I remember that he's the man who turned down the role of Rhett Butler because he was sure Gone with the Wind would be career poison, and I just shake my head.)

Patricia Neal: I think she's trying really hard to be Katharine Hepburn, and I can't fault her taste there, but it's kind of a Katharine Hepburn with brain damage.  Not the kind that makes you stupid, the kind that makes you crazy and irrational.  There was a scene where I thought for sure she was going to stab Roark -- and I was rooting for it.  Loudly.  Seriously, killing the main character could only have helped.  I wanted to shut off the player and go write the fan fiction where she stabbed him right then and there.

And our villain.  He's evil for the sake of being evil.  You've all heard the advice for writers that (outside of parody and certain comedic styles) a villain never sees himself as a villain, that somewhere in there he's the hero of his own story?  Rand hadn't.  Nah, Ellsworth just woke up one morning and decided "you know, I think I'll go be evil.  That sounds like fun.  I'll just go out and start destroying people.  I mean, gotta fill your day somehow, right?"  Oh, and never name your kid Ellsworth.  You name your son Ellsworth, he's basically guaranteed to grow up as a petty evil bastard with a funny accent.

So, final conclusion: Fountainhead, worth your time? 
If you are a hardcore MSTy -- and I mean hard core -- go for it.  Great fodder if you can stand the beating. 
As an alternative to reading the novel, watch the first 20 minutes and then stop when the mooney eyes start, because it basically just goes on like that with a break for a rape scene. 
As a movie in its own right, well...  Let's put it this way.  The Fountainhead is often used as an example of what a screenplay should NOT be.

Oh, BTW, if you need a name for a sci fi character, may I suggest "King Vidor"?  God, the MST jokes you can pull from the director's name alone.

Blog: Movie/TV: Shogun

I have no idea how to label the entry when I review one of the old epic miniseries like Shogun or Roots.  Anyway, Shogun.

Um...  Well, let me put it this way.  It's an American movie, about Japanese history, with a white guy thrown in, made in 1980. 
Oy vey...
Given that, it's not nearly as bad as it could be.  Nonetheless, there is much unintentional amusement.

Language: Even the most rudimentary knowledge of the Japanese language will provide you with giggling opportunities.  Now, I'm always fond of a movie using "Ikura desu ka" for "How are you?", which I think I heard somewhere in the first chapter -- although perhaps that character was asking the hero how much he costs.  ("ikura desu ka" = "how much is it".  To the best of my extremely meager knowledge, there is no direct open-ended equivalent to the English "how are you" and the closest is "Ogenki desu ka" = "Are you well?") 

However, it is hard to beat in the first chapter when the hero is still in captivity and the not-nice local second-in-command and the evil Jesuit (which is largely a redundant statement in this movie) interpreter come in where the hero is sleeping, and the Jesuit insists that "you must get up right now and greet Omi-san with 'Konnichiwa'."  Konnichiwa?!  Good afternoon?  Apparently the reason it's so urgent he get up is because he's slept until 3 pm.

Names: Mariko, Fujiko, Kiku, and many more, not even so much as an "O" honorific prefix floating around among the women until we meet Lady Ochiba -- and I suspect hers was a fluke.  These are modern names that came into popularity in the early part of the 20th century.  Using them here is the equivalent of setting an movie in Queen Elizabeth I's court and naming her ladies in waiting Keisha, Madison, and Taylor.

Stereotypes:  The makers just can't keep their stereotypes straight.  My favorite here is that if a married woman is so much as alone with a man other than her husband, she can be executed -- but it's perfectly OK for her to take a bath with one because the Japanese have no body taboos.

The magic burn cream gets high points on my list, too, because I know that knowledge of Western medicine was highly valued later in the 19th century because it was much more effective than Japanese medicine at the time.  And we still don't have that kind of magic burn treatment even today.

Timing:  Either Blackthorne becomes the second foreigner in all of history to be granted the title of samurai within just a few months of arriving in Japan, or even after several years of full immersion in Japanese culture he is only able to speak the most basic of sentences.

I also personally find it flaming hilarious that Blackthorne is made "Hatamoto" before he is made a member of the samurai class.  Hatamoto in that time period was the title for a samurai in the direct service of a lord (rather than further down the hierarchy).  In other words, he's given one of the highest possible ranks for a samurai before he's made a samurai.

Karma:   For those interested in such things, there are a multitude of opportunities to shout "that's not karma!" in the last couple episodes.  What they are describing as "karma" could maybe come under the term "dharma", but mostly they're just talking about good old-fashioned Western destiny.  It is absolutely not karma.

Basic Plot:  We are at the tail-end of the warring states period.  We've got about 10 hours of movie time here.  We can spend it watching a fictionalized Tokugawa Ieyasu fight to gain power over all Japan, or we can spend it watching a frankly rather lackluster romance. Romance it is! :P


So, is it worth watching?  Um...  It's probably not worth 10 hours of your life.  But, there is Toshiro Mifune. ::squees and claps::  If you want the full Mifune filmography, you almost have to.  Or, if you like laughing at anachronisms and can pick them out of a movie set in 16th/17th century Japan, go nuts.  That's largely outside my knowledge, so I've only touched the tip of the iceberg.  (Although, what is the deal with all the hakama having white ties no matter what the main fabric?  I have never seen or heard of such a thing before.  Is it a historical bit I didn't know, or did they have to special-order wrong hakama?)  Or, if you don't know anything at all about Japan and don't give a crap, and like long drawn-out lackluster romances with occasional long stretches of dialog in a language you can't understand, this is the flick for you!

Movie: Hard Candy (no spoilers)

This week's Netflix offering was the independent psychological drama "Hard Candy".

It's hard to figure out what to say without spoiling because the spoilers start about 20 minutes in, and both the back-of-the-box blurb and the trailer are nice enough not to excessively spoil them, so I hate to do it.  But I'll give it a go.

1.  Watch at least the first half hour, because it changes drastically about 20 minutes in.  I almost bailed at the 15 minute mark because it wasn't ringing true for me at all, but I'm glad I stayed until the change.  It still didn't ring true for me afterwords, but in a way that was perfectly OK.  It's 100% fantasy fulfillment, utterly unrealistic, but very good nonetheless.
2.  According to the filmmakers, about 50% of viewers love it, 25% leave the movie still trying to figure it out, and 25% hate it with the fiery heat of a thousand suns.  Consider yourself warned.  (I'm in the first 50%.)  (Also, I'd love to know if there's a gender bias in those statistics.  Actually, I'd be shocked if there weren't.  I'd lay money men are more likely to hate this than women.)
3.  Excellent psychological movie.
4.  Also, the director and/or cinematographer has a wonderful eye for imagery.  Beautiful shots.  When you consider the limited setting, that's even more impressive.

Movie: Rosemary's Baby

I don't have a lot to say about this one.  It's slow, it's dull, it's very much a product of its time,
and it's made by a man who later went on to rape a 13-year-old.  Rosemary has the intelligence and maturity of a typical 6 year old.  The movie also nicely demonstrates the importance of both no-fault divorces and HIPAA.

However, I will give it one cookie.  Spousal rape is the tool of Teh Evilz.  The movie was made 8 years before the first state repealed the spousal exemptions from rape laws, so in this regard, it was ahead of its time.  I am reaching a bit to hand over this cookie, but that's worth it.

It's still a slow dull idiot movie that's painfully 1968, though.  Snigger with me as Guy tells his pregnant wife that she shouldn't be on her feet while simultaneously plying her with booze.


Now, for a nice non sequitor: As I'm usually quite bad with faces, it's always a little odd for me when I can pick out actors I've seen before, especially minor ones.  This time the mental commentary was kind of funny.  "Hmm, the hangdog looking building manager looks awfully familiar.  Who is...  Oh, it's the boozey leprachaun head they throw at us in House on Haunted Hill."

If you've seen the version with Mike Nelson commentary (Legend Films), you know what I'm talking about.  If not, you probably think I'm insane.  Suffice to say, Elisha Cook Jr = hangdog building manager in Rosemary's Baby = boozey "why the hell did you come into this house again" guy from the original 1959 House on Haunted Hill.

Movie: Jacob's Ladder (with brutal spoilers)

Back when I watched Taxi Driver, I remarked that the problem with movies done from a mentally ill POV is that mental illness is actually quite boring most of the time.
Same problem here.

Actually, there are a lot of problems here.  That's just one.  Another is that the movie can't decide what it wants to be.  War flick with vast government conspiracy chaser?  Demonic supernatural horror?  Psychological 'descent into madness' thriller?  Oh, they all look so good, let's just moosh 'em together and see what comes out.

Then there's the anachronisms.  Made in 1990, set in the 1970s.  Maybe.  Except parts of it are really blatantly 1990. Only it can't possibly be set 20 years after the Vietnam War segments and it has to be the 70s or early 80s.  Except for half the women's clothes and the kids' slang, which are really blatantly 1990.  And that's before we get to the ending, which makes all anachronisms completely unforgivable.

That brings us to another problem: the ending.  I have seen some stupid endings in my day, and let me tell you, this is a contender.  I mean, you know it's going to be lame when the dead kid shows up and leads Daddy up the Stairway to Heaven, but no, it has to get even stupider.  Hasn't Hollywood outgrown the "entire movie was a dream sequence" conceit?  I know it was popular in the 1930s and 40s (Wizard of Oz, Cabin in the Sky), it just doesn't work anymore.  

I don't know, maybe WoO and Cabin worked as well as they did (and you can take that as you will) because the moviemakers basically gave you two choices for why this story is happening: weird ass shit is really happening, or it's a dream.  Jacob's Ladder hands you excuse after excuse after excuse.  Maybe it's the experimental army drugs.  Maybe it's brain damage from the 106 fever.  Maybe it's a supernatural entity coming back to collect Jake because it missed the first time.  Oh, how about "it's all a dream".  How about that excuse?

Or maybe the "all a dream" trope only works when there's a tornado involved.  In any event, in Jacob's Ladder, it was as though they didn't think I was groaning "Oh my God, you aren't going to go with this stupid ending, are you?" loud enough, so they decided to make it worse.

Fans of the movie are doubtless going to say I don't understand.  They may be right; I wouldn't know if they were.  But I really don't think they are.  It's the jumbled thought processes of a man coming to terms with his life as he lays dying on a battlefield operating table.  I get that.  I just think it's a really bad rendition of the idea.

Personally, I think the real point of the movie was to tape a lot of bloody body parts and people shaking their heads around real fast. :P