Film Review: Tron Legacy

I was 12 years old when the original Tron hit theaters in the summer of 1982. Like most my age at the time, I was pretty captivated by the tale of programmer-turned-hacker Kevin Flynn who gets transported inside a computer and must compete in gladiator-type video games to survive. What wasn't there to like - the cool neon-infused suits, the jazzy Wendy Carlos electronic score, the then-cutting-edge CGI effects, the action figures that resembled four-inch-tall Jell-O molds and that ubiquitous arcade game that robbed me of so many quarters the next two years of my life.

The film made more money than it cost and ushered in the age of computer-generated effects, but it never really achieved a status beyond cult film of the excess-heavy '80s, usually mentioned in the same breath as other less-than-appreciated spectacles of the decade like Flash Gordon, Krull and Buckaroo Banzai. (Don't remember those flicks? Thanks for making my point.) If people remembered Tron, it would usually elicit the same response as the punchline of a joke.

For me, however, it will always hold a special place in my heart, a reminder of the waning days of childhood, when movies weren't followed online but in the pages of magazines like Starlog and Cinefantastique. I own the soundtrack and the out-of-print DVD, which I still take out for a spin every couple of years. So, needless to say, I was pretty jacked to hear Disney was releasing a sequel to this influential but misunderstood gem of celluloid 28 years after its initial release.

Tron Legacy picks up nine years after the first film left off. Kevin Flynn (a younger,CGI-enchanced Jeff Bridges), is tucking in his young son Sam and regaling him with tales of The Grid, the virtual world he was transported to so many years ago. It seems those stories have turned into big business for ENCOM, the multi-national computer company Flynn now runs. From action figures to video games, Tron, the security program that assisted Flynn on the inside, is now a brand to rival Coke and Pepsi.

As the lights are turned off and the door to Sam's room is slowly closed, neither father nor son are aware this will be the last time they will see each other, as Flynn will mysteriously disappear that night for the next 20 years.

Flash forward to present day and an adult Sam (Garrett Hedlund) is a brilliant-yet-unambitious loner who's about to play his annual prank on his father's former company. This year it's making ENCOM's new operating system available free to the masses online. Shortly thereafter, Sam is visited by Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner), Flynn's former partner and Tron alter ego, who claims to have received a page from his father's long-since-abandoned arcade. Investigating, Sam comes across Flynn's hidden office and the device that makes traversing The Grid possible. A quick boot-up of the system and we're off and running as Sam is transported to the world that obsessed his father a lifetime ago.

Upon arriving, Sam is brought before C.L.U. (again, a younger, CGI-enhanced Jeff Bridges), a nefarious lead program who eerily resembles his father. C.L.U isn't interested in chit chat and places Sam on the gaming grid where the younger Flynn proves to be a natural until C.L.U. joins the competition. As the proceedings turn dire for Sam, he is whisked away to safety by a mysterious program called Quorra (Olivia Wilde). She transports Sam to the Outlands where a mutual friend awaits.

Now it should come as no surprise that the mutual friend is the elder Flynn (Jeff Bridges, this time looking his age in a flowing white robe and graying beard). Once the father-son reunion is complete, Flynn tells Sam he's been living off-Grid, stuck on the inside since the night they last saw each other. Apparently C.L.U., who Flynn engineered in his likeness to assist in further developing the digital utopia, was the one that sent the page so the gateway would be reopened, thus luring Flynn back on The Grid so C.L.U could steal Flynn's knowledge and cross over to the user world. Well, Sam's all for getting back to the gateway and taking his father with him. When Flynn refuses to leave, Sam goes anyway, forcing his father to go after him and face C.L.U. one last time.

Tron Legacy is neither a letdown nor a revelation. Once Sam crosses over, the storyline basically mirrors the original film. Bridges and Hedlund have a nice rapport as father and son and Michael Sheen provides amusing support as The Grid's resident horse trader Castor. And even in his limited role, it's great to see Bruce Boxleitner doing anything.

The visuals are the real draw of course and they don't disappoint, expanding on the original's concepts with all the muscle and verve today's technology can provide. I caught the film in 3D and the effects were completely immersive, never distracting.

After 28 years of waiting, it's nice to see Tron make a worthy comeback and dazzle a whole new generation of movie-goers. Now, where's that Buckaroo Banzai sequel?

Happy 30th, Empire !

Today marks the 30th anniversary of The Empire Strikes Back.

I saw Empire at the Big Newport in Newport Beach, CA on Saturday, May 24, 1980. I remember getting a copy of the souvenir program at the box office before it started and fighting the urge to flip through it, as I didn't want to reveal too much. I couldn't resist of course and came upon a picture of Han in Carbonite. I knew right then that Empire was going to be very different from Star Wars.

I couldn't wait to get into the theater to find out how this all played out. We were about an hour and a half early, however, nobody in line. We went across to a Coco's for lunch and all through the meal I stared out the window at the theater across the street, hoping we wouldn't get stuck at the back of the line and fighting more urges to flip through the program. We fortunately made it back with only about twenty people in front of us. I could actually hear the Imperial March from the earlier screening seeping out through the side doors as we waited.

Thirty years later Empire remains a very special movie to me. Where Star Wars opened my young eyes to the power of pure cinema, Empire really introduced me to the power of characterization and storytelling. To me, it remains as layered and complex as any Shakespearean tragedy or classic film noir. I usually screen it at least once a year and every time it's like visiting with an old friend; I'm transported back to that Saturday in May when I was nine, when worries and responsibilities were foreign concepts and my imagination swelled with endless possibilities. Happy 30th, Empire.

Historic Lido Theatre to Screen Clash of Titans in 3D!

It appears Warner’s “Clash of the Titans” reboot will screen at the historic Regency Lido Theatre in Newport Beach, CA beginning Thursday, Apr 1 (10 pm). And in 3D, if you can believe it. Kind of an odd film for the 72-year-old Lido which specializes in art fare. But the real kicker is the 3D presentation.

Not even Regal’s flagship 1108-seat Big Newport theater down the road is equipped for 3D. One would have to think with the financial commitment a digital 3D projector requires that a shift is afoot in Lido programming. Regal appears to be taking notice. According to Fandango.com, “Clash of the Titans” isn’t scheduled to screen at the Big Newport, unheard of for a big-budget event film. Should be very interesting to see how this plays out over the summer.

Top 10 Films of the Decade

I can't believe another decade has come and gone. The last 10 years have given us some great films. Here's a list of my favorites.

1. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (Dir: Peter Jackson; 2001 -2003)
2. There Will Be Blood (Dir: Paul Thomas Anderson; 2007)
3. Wonder Boys (Dir: Curtis Hansen; 2000)
4. Sideways (Dir: Alexander Payne; 2004)
5. Gladiator (Dir: Ridley Scott; 2000)
6. Memento (Dir: Christopher Nolan; 2001
7. The Royal Tennenbaums (Dir: Wes Anderson; 2001)
8. The Cooler (Dir: Wayne Kramer; 2003)
9. The Dark Knight (Dir: Christopher Nolan; 2008)
10. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon( Dir: Ang Lee; 2000)

Honarable Mentions:
3:10 To Yuma
About Schmidt
Aviator, The
Cinderella Man
Contender, The
Crazy Heart
Departed, The
High Fidelity
History of Violence
In The Bedroom
Inglorious Basterds
Kill Bill
Lars and the Real Girl
Minority Report
No Country For Old Men
The Squid and the Whale
Walk The Line
You Can Count on Me
Zodiac

El Camino School Closing Its Doors After 35 Years

After 35 years of educating students, the sun has started to set on El Camino Real School in Irvine, CA. Come June 21, one of the city’s oldest and most respected institutions will close its royal blue doors for good and relocate under a new name a few miles up the street to the community of Woodbury.

I was one of El Camino’s earliest students, starting kindergarten there in 1976 and staying right through sixth grade graduation in 1983. Of all the schools I’ve attended over my scholastic career – preschool through college – my seven years at El Camino are the ones I cherish the most.

Maybe it was just childhood or the year-round schedule (three-week vacations every nine weeks) but El Camino never really felt like school. Sure we had spelling tests and math quizzes practically everyday but the environment was such that we really didn’t seem to care. The teachers and staff at El Camino were like good friends – never judging or impatient – whom you couldn’t wait to hang with everyday.

One such teacher was Walt Turner. You couldn’t have asked for a better guide through 4th grade than Mr. Turner. It was like going to school with your dad or favorite uncle. He was funny (we each got a nickname), attentive and caring. You never felt intimidated when asking him a question or approaching his desk. He was so committed to his students that when my mom couldn’t afford the extra expense of leasing a violin for after-school lessons, he financed one out of his own pocket. I think I only played a few weeks before doing humanity a favor and hanging up my bow but his gesture has always stayed with me. We even made an in-class movie (Robot Restaurant) and screened it for our parents. I remember on vacation wishing I could go back to 4th grade.

And then there was the principal. Gene Bedley ruled El Camino with funny money and a stuffed bear. With a million-dollar smile and looks to rival Burt Reynolds, Mr. Bedley roamed the halls handing out his eponymous Bedley Bucks to students spied excelling in the classroom. Earn enough BBs and you could redeem them for parking lot rides in the back of his stake-bed pick-up truck or more importantly for hugs from the school’s stuffed mascot – HUGGY BEAR – who had his own chair in Mr. Bedley’s office. Even when sent to the office for disciplinary measures, you knew nothing bad could ever happen in the presence of HUGGY.

Upon hearing of the closure a few months ago, my wife and I took a weekend stroll around the school grounds. Memories came pouring back. There were the once-towering handball courts and tetherball poles my friends and I religiously challenged each other to every day after school; there was the lunch bench where I got into an epic chocolate pudding fight with a buddy of mine and had to spend the afternoon in the back of class “thinking about” my behavior; there was the boys’ bathroom where two brothers charged admission to admire their new Mohawk-style haircuts; there was the entrance to the multi-purpose room where I had my first arms-length slow dance with a girl (there’s nothing like your first arms-length slow dance, let me tell you); suffice to say, it was like I had never left. While it’s sad to know that one day there will no longer be a school to stroll, it’s comforting that its memories will never fade.

El Camino Real will hold a closing ceremony on school grounds June 8 at 2:30 pm. Staff from past and present will be on hand to commemorate the event. To those staff members and teachers who have shaped the lives of students like me for the past 35 years, know your commitment, patience and generosity will never be forgotten. Thank you, El Camino, and continued success at your new location in Woodbury.







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Wedded Bliss

My days as a vibrant, single man with fleeting hair but personality to burn have come to an end. It was a good run - a near three-decade-long stretch of hopeless crushes, first kisses and lost phone numbers. I have ceased being a person of independent thought and free will and have instead metamorphosed into, I’m reading from a manual, “half of a collective unit, one where thought and action is now a shared responsibility to better preserve the harmonious union we have selected to live the rest of our lives as part of.” In short, I got married.

The aforementioned “union” capped a whirlwind year of endless planning, negotiating and consoling. (“Of course I still want to marry you, sweetie; of course I’ll wear a tux.”) The first eight hours of our engagement were a time of overwhelming emotions and endless possibilities. From there we sharpened our pencils, opened Excel, punched a clock and began the time-honored process of building the firm of Husband and Wife.

Nothing can happen for the first three months of an engagement for this is when the ring goes on tour. A gaggle of personnel show up at your doorstep - roadies, logistical experts, cackling girlfriends, etc. They place the ring in a crate, haul it down the stairs and secure it to the back of a flatbed truck. Then it and your fiance set out across the country visiting every person she and her parents have ever met in their lifetimes. You get pictures every couple of weeks, a progress report charting their current location in relation to the official itinerary and occasionally you’ll read a blurb in the paper or spot a glimpse of them on the nightly news. When your fiance finally returns home she looks nothing like you remember and the diamond now resembles a shard of rock candy.

Now that you’re a happy unit again the planning of the actual ceremony can begin. First you choose a date - usually one at least a year or so off. (You gotta have time to really be sold on the idea, right?) From there it’s the location – something close so your inebriated guests can make it home safely.

Then there’s the music. I always envision for-hire disc jockeys as starving college kids trying to muster a few dollars together in between stipends from Mom and Dad. Boy, was I off. Spinning music is not only a venerable career it’s about as lucrative as being a doctor or investment banker. The one we visited lived in a sprawling split-level Spanish-style compound in south county complete with a cabin cruiser in the driveway and soundproof studio nestled neatly inside the garage. We sat next to the washing machine, our DJ behind his custom spin table, microphone in hand, and were dazzled for the next half hour with dancing strobe lights and dead-on impressions of Sinatra, Mathis and Tony Bennett. From there he thanked us for coming, pressed a button on his console and within seconds someone appeared to escort us from the premises. I bet he orders dinner the same way when working late: “Turkey pot pie.” Too cool.

Once the ceremony’s set you can focus on the registry. Now my wife and I got married in our mid-thirties and pretty much had already amassed all the household necessities a couple requires when first starting out. I’m thinking - sweet, we can get a plasma TV, new golf clubs, maybe even TiVo. Again, way off. I was not aware of the rule that states “When getting married never settle for one when you can have quadruple.” Wine glasses, bed sheets, cutlery, towels, vases, oh the vases. And picture frames – oh the humanity. We’ve got so many picture frames we’re going to have to adopt just to fill them all.

Before you know it the special day has arrived. The sun is out, the birds are chirping and all the people your parents ever met are waiting to introduce themselves to you. My wife and I were told early on we could each invite five friends (Best Man and Maid of Honor included). The rest of the seats were reserved for people who had missed the 2003 Engagement Ring Tour. But on your wedding day everyone is family and as the champagne flows and the hours seem to hurry by you begin to look back fondly on all the little things that got you to this point and ahead to all the bigger things awaiting your lives together. That and the hopes you’ll never have to duplicate the last 15 months again in your lifetime. (Of course I’m glad we got married, honey.)

A Little Piece of Heaven Closes Its Doors, Moves Inland

When a favorite restaurant closes its doors it often has the same effect as losing a best friend. No one knew your needs better. No one was as comforting to be around. Change is a part of life, but this one never seems to leave you, no matter how hard you try.

A favorite such Orange County haunt recently closed its doors after 14 years of service on the Balboa Peninsula and needless to say I'm having a little trouble getting over it.

Britta's Cafe, a small, neatly nestled little piece of heaven a stone's throw off Balboa Avenue, was my lone reason for getting out of bed on a Saturday or Sunday morning. I'd snatch up the paper, toss on whatever garment was most readily available and dash out the door praying the line hadn't yet reached the Balboa Pier.

I ordered the same breakfast for 10 years - scrambled eggs, two succulent sausage links, thick rye toast and the most extraordinary fried potatoes ever created. If I was ever granted a last meal, those potatoes would be my only request.

Everyone always had a smile at Britta's. You walked in and knew instantly the day was going to be a good one. Service never lagged. And if the rare wait for a table was required, you always got a big mug of piping-hot coffee to nurse outside in the fresh sea air.

The story of Britta's Cafe is almost as good as its food. Raised in Orange County, Britta Pullium was a mere 16 years old when she started socking away pennies in hopes of one day owning her own restaurant. By 21 she was general manager of a neighborhood cafe and by 25 she had purchased an ice cream/pizza parlor on Balboa's popular Main Street enclave. No partners. No managing director. There was one name on the sign and one name pulling the strings.

In the 14 years since, Britta's Cafe had become a cherished part of the surrounding communities. Britta became almost a pseudo-Oprah - her own book club, newsletter and special weekly dinners featuring three generations of family recipes that attracted as much attention as if they were staples on the Food Network.

So why the closure? Well it isn't so much a closure as a relocation. As Britta puts it, " Balboa was a proving ground. I'm older, wiser and ready for a new challenge."

In September a brand new Britta's Cafe, same menu, same Britta, will re-open its doors in Irvine at the University Center across from UCI. It's all part of a new investment by the Irvine Company to revitalize the sluggish but optimally located 17-year-old shopping center. First Trader Joe's and now Britta.

The new venue will include a full bar, wood-burning oven and much to Britta's fancy, a larger kitchen.

And what about the old location on Balboa? Well it's now owned by a local couple and goes by the name Bibbi Anna's. Britta thinks they'll make a tremendous addition to the neighborhood.

Britta's immediate plans call for an enjoyable summer with 10-year-old daughter Raquel. As for me, I'm rolled up in the fetal position anxiously awaiting those fried potatoes.

Look for Britta's Cafe this September at 4237 Campus Drive in Irvine.