During what will hopefully be converted into a roundtable discussion about the posters for the upcoming movie What to Expect When You’re Expecting – which quickly devolved into ‘I’d hit that’ speak, much to Kelly Stitzel’s dismay – someone jokingly asked, “How is Katherine Heigl not involved with this?”

It’s a fair question. This would seem to be right up Heigl’s alley. Perhaps she wasn’t interested in playing another pregnant woman after her breakout performance in Judd Apatow’s 2007 hit Knocked Up. Indeed, you could make an argument that she resisted the project for that very reason, that doing the movie would give people the impression that she’s trying to cash in on her former glory. The most likely reason, of course, is that the scheduling didn’t work out.

It’s also quite possible that they simply didn’t want her.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Heigl is on a bit of a skid at the moment. Her last three movies, Killers, Life As We Know It, and New Year’s Eve, were loathed by critics and died mercifully quick deaths at the box office (though Life As We Know It somehow managed to break even). The two movies before them, 27 Dresses and The Ugly Truth, were commercial hits, if not critical ones. (I, for one, like 27 Dresses.) The Heigl backlash even popped up in Friends with Benefits, when Mila Kunis saw a poster for an upcoming romantic comedy and shouted, “Shut up, Katherine Heigl!” (This joke actually works on two levels, since Heigl beat out Kunis for the part of Alison in Knocked Up.) This string of bad luck does not look as though it’s about to be broken, either; Heigl’s latest film One for the Money, in which she plays literary gumshoe Stephanie Plum, was not screened for critics. Groupon is also running a discount ticket deal for the movie, a la The Lincoln Lawyer. That’s some bad juju right there, and the strange thing is that the trailer for One for the Money actually makes it look like a decent flick. If anyone can fill the shoes of the wise-cracking Stephanie Plum, you would think it’s Heigl.

Perception, however, is nine-tenths of the law when it comes to Hollywood stars, and right now, the perception – and therefore, reality – is that Heigl is nearly finished, from rom-com darling to box office poison in a mere four years, a precipitous drop in comparison to movie princesses of the past (Meg Ryan had a good 12 years as America’s Sweetheart™, which included her share of bad films along the way). Now, I know that there are several instances in which Heigl did not help herself (we’ll get to those, I promise), but overall, this seems wildly unfair. Does the backlash stem from the general lack of quality of her movies, her willful personality, or a combination of the two? If it is any one of those three, then there is someone else who by definition should be riding this train alongside her, but to date is not.

Jennifer Aniston.

Let’s review: both are rom-com actresses with spotty box office track records. Both are tabloid fodder. (Heck, Aniston has her own wing in the Tabloid Hall of Fame.) The one key difference is that people love Aniston, while Heigl is viewed as being difficult. And why is that, exactly? That’s the funny part, because if anything, it should be the other way around.

Let’s have a little fun here, shall we? Let’s break down Heigl’s best and worst qualities, and see how they stack up against Aniston’s. Let’s start with the one big pro, and then the cons.

She is very good at what she does

There isn’t a single actress on the planet who plays angry funnier or cuter than Katherine Heigl. There is a scene in The Ugly Truth where she’s directing Gerard Butler to get off the set after shooting one of his chauvinist rants, and she’s positively hilarious. If you don’t value that as a skill, you should; doing the angry/cute thing is not as easy as it seems. Take, for example, Leslie Mann – of whom I’m quite fond, for the record – in Knocked Up. When she flips out on Paul Rudd, it’s not funny – it’s sad, because you walk away from the scene thinking that his character is trapped in a marriage to a nasty human being. But more on that later.

That is not Heigl’s only skill, though. Towards the end of The Ugly Truth, she’s won the man of dreams, only to realize he doesn’t really love her; he loves the woman Butler’s character suggested that she pretend to be. Heigl then describes what she’s really like to the man, in all of her neurotic glory, then says, completely demoralized and broken, “And who would love someone like that?” It’s a heartbreaking scene in an otherwise unwatchable movie. You had to think that even Heigl knew that she was not making a masterpiece when she saw that she had to shoot a scene where it looked like she was giving a guy a blowjob in the bleachers, but she still gave this movie everything she had.

Aniston, meanwhile, is rarely the best thing about any movie she does. In fact, someone should invent a drinking game around Aniston grabbing her rack, a move where she’s essentially saying to the world, “As long as I’ve got these, I’m still going to get work.” (To be fair, that philosophy has worked well thus far.) Instead of making a bad movie better, she is often the source of the problem (ahem, The Bounty Hunter). She knocked it out of the park in Horrible Bosses, but where Heigl will at least try to rise above bad material, Aniston seems content to wallow in the muck.

So there’s the pro. Now Let’s look at the cons.

She has a big mouth

Guilty as charged. It does appear that the comments she made on David Letterman’s show about the long work hours she endured on the Grey’s Anatomy set were out of line (the producers insist those long hours only existed because they accommodated her request to do press for a recent film), but the bit that seemed to seal her reputation as a loudmouth diva was when she dared to suggest that Knocked Up is perhaps just a wee bit sexist. And come on, where the hell does she get off saying bad things about the movie that made her a star?

There’s just one small thing: she’s absolutely right.

The female characters in Knocked Up (I’m referring to Heigl and Mann, who’s married to Apatow) are shrill, humorless succubi. In fact, I’d argue that most of Apatow’s female characters are underwritten and oversexed, but that’s another column for another day. What Heigl said about the movie wasn’t untrue, but she came across as ungrateful, and no one likes an ungrateful movie star…unless he’s a dude. Guys talk trash about their old movies all the time, and no one bats an eye at it. If Heigl’s Ugly Truth costar Gerard Butler came out and said that 300 was crap, would anyone make a big deal out of it? No, they wouldn’t. Seems a little…sexist, don’t you think? Yes, well, now you know how Heigl feels.

Aniston, meanwhile, has never taken heat for saying anything out of turn in the press. She has always been very careful to maintain her image as an American Sweetheart™, and she has been rewarded for this by an adoring public. This is hilarious, because in reality Aniston is a ruthless, cunning, stone-cold killer when it comes to promoting her “brand.” If Heigl wears her heart on her sleeve, Aniston’s is secured behind six inches of steel in a vault surrounded by a moat filled with crocodiles. She doesn’t make a single move without first analyzing it from 17 different angles for its potential impact on her Q factor. Look up each time the tabloids went nuts over Jen’s new boy toy, and you’ll see that each one of them lines up with the opening of one of her films. Aniston hasn’t had an unguarded moment, or made an uncalculated move, in over a decade. This makes her arguably the fakest celebrity of all time, which is saying something considering the asshats that we call celebs today.

Her characters are high-maintenance pains in the ass

So were Reese Witherspoon’s, for the most part, and no one’s held that against her. Also, women are complicated. It’s actually nice to see one refuse to play the bimbo or the fool. As for her role in Killers, well, that was just bad casting. She had no business playing a naive shut-in with no self-esteem.

She’s hell to work with

I wouldn’t know anything about that firsthand, and even if she were, using that as a measuring stick to determine which actors to like or dislike is a hypocritical copout. (Psssst: Russell Crowe, Tom Cruise, Edward Norton, Jack Nicholson, Sean Penn, Daniel Day-Lewis, and Christian Bale thank you for not holding this quality against them.)

Her movies are bad

This is mostly true. However, Aniston’s made five times as many bad movies as Heigl has, and she continues to be forgiven. And it’s not as if there are great romantic comedies being made all around Heigl; the genre is suffering a drought, and a girl’s gotta work.

I am not saying that Jennifer Aniston deserves to suffer what Katherine Heigl is going through at the moment. Ideally, both actresses would be treated equally; they are paid to entertain us, and that is all that should matter. But let’s get some proper perspective on them: what Heigl has said and done, in the grand scheme of things, is pretty innocuous, while far greater Hollywood crimes have, for the most part, gone unpunished. Not to mention, the Heigl backlash sends a dangerous message to little girls everywhere that if they want to succeed in life, they should keep their mouths shut. Aniston, meanwhile, is being rewarded for her steely grasp of the media machine, and how she worked the power of her image into a sustainable brand, long past her career peak. She’s not even known for being an actress anymore – she’s known for being a celebrity, and with an entire generation of kids who crave fame more than love, achievement, or happiness about to overtake the entertainment business, that sends an even worse message than the one about keeping quiet.

When it comes down to it, I think the reason people dislike Katherine Heigl is because they’d be scared to death to be friends with her, because if they were doing something she disapproved of, she’d make sure they knew it. Most people don’t want to be friends with that person, but the fact is everyone needs at least one person like that in their lives, because it works both ways. If you were being a bully, she’d tell you to step off. If you were being too passive, she’d tell you to stick up for yourself. She could use some work in the diplomacy department, yes, but who do you want on your back in a bar fight, the person who says the right things in order to please everyone, or the one who will fight to the death to defend your honor? (See: Heigl’s public shaming of Isaiah Washington after he called Grey’s co-star T.R. Knight a faggot.) Heigl may be neither of those people in real life, but based on her comments to the press, she’s far closer to the latter than she is to the former, and I find that admirable. Aniston, meanwhile, is still an enigma, 17 years after most of us met her for the first time. Oddly enough, this earns her a few bonus points for keeping her private life private – at least until such time as it’s convenient for her to sell this or that scoop to a tabloid in order to advance her career – but that raises the question: why do people like her so much, when after nearly two decades in the spotlight, we still know next to nothing about her?

Fight the good fight, Katherine. In an industry that is referred to as high school with money, it’s nice to see someone on the fringe of the popular clique look at the other popular kids from time to time and say, “Wow, you guys are douchebags.” If you ever find yourself in a bar fight, I will totally have your back.

I was cautious going into Avatar. My expectations were very measured; having listened to both the over-the-top praise and the silly criticisms in has received. That morning, I overheard a man complaining that it was “absolutely the stupidest thing” he’d ever seen. Others had told me that the effects were the most amazing movie experience they’d ever made. Well friends, special effects do not a movie make.

I donned my 3D glasses, trying to keep an open mind but expecting to dislike it. And, for the first hour or so, my eyes mostly rolled behind my Spaceman Spiff goggles. Sigourney Weaver, usually so good at the tough gal roles, was astonishingly bad. Much has been made of her character’s constant cigarette smoking and the negative influence it could have on children, because every teenager wants to be just like the lady on the AARP Magazine cover. I scoff at the notion that movie characters should be castrated because of societal concerns, but nonetheless the cigarettes seemed both completely out of place and a forced prop to insist that her character was stressed.

James Cameron is mystifying as a screenwriter. At times, he is capable of fairly poetic dialogue, and he uses Sam Worthington’s video log to mostly good effect. Despite this, he has also written some of the most annoying secondary character dialogue this side of George Lucas. Avatar is rife with this. It’s not necessary such a terrible script as it is uneven. Even Worthington’s dialogue is spotty. Someone needs to tell Cameron that it’s not necessary for his characters to exclaim “shit!” every time they stumble. Nor is it necessary for the word “bitch” to be used in such a juvenile manner. Cameron has always liked the hard-ass Marine characters, but ever since Aliens, he has written them in such a stereotypical manner that they seem to be overflowing not with testosterone, but rather Human Growth Hormone.

The script does get a little better as the movie progresses, and somehow I looked past the very predictable and derivative plot and really did get sucked in. Much of this is due to the extraordinary experience the 3D provides. The technology is very well utilized, and the goggles keep outside distractions away. If you allow your eyes to follow the falling ash, the speck will linger below the screen for a split second. It is truly a beautiful trick of the eye. And while the visual experience is very immersive and beautiful, the actual planet and creature designs are not exactly original or even logical.

This brings me to my point. Many have proclaimed Avatar to be the “game-changer” for Hollywood, often drawing comparisons with Star Wars. Cameron’s budget has been reported as $237 million dollars. Star Wars was made with a remarkably small budget, and many of the special effects it employed were ingenious but ancient tricks finally perfected by a very young ILM. If Avatar truly is a game-changer, then what has it really done for the average filmmaker?

There will almost certainly be a flood of poor knockoffs within the next several years. This happened with Star Wars as well. Most will be conceptually weak, and won’t use the technology correctly. As flawed as Cameron is as a writer, he has the fortune of having a great mind for visual storytelling and can make you feel for his characters with affecting visuals, such as Sam Worthington’s immobilized stick-figure legs.

So where does that leave those of us at the very bottom of the industry, trying to break in? None of us will have the opportunity to utilize said technology for quite some time. As much as Star Wars did for effects, it can also be credited for encouraging independent filmmaking. What Avatar does is give Hollywood the chance to keep their grip on your cash for just a little longer, keeping their old business format for at least a few years.

Imagine if every Hollywood movie were shot in 3D. What chance would that give the independent filmmaker, still working with HD camcorders? It would severely limit the prospect of that occasional breakthrough Indie picture that we have all become accustomed to once or twice a year. I try not to fear this future, as my strength as a storyteller begins with the script. In a world in which anyone can make a decent looking movie now, I am determined that my leg up will come from strength of story.

I left Avatar thinking that it was neither as great nor as bad as anyone had ascribed it to be. But with my filmmaker’s mind, I often think about the things I would change or the things I appreciate. Film is so often about distraction, and Avatar owes much of its success to this notion. It dangles shiny things in front of your eyes, that you might overlook the severity of its flaws. For your sake, I hope you can overlook the use of “unobtanium.”

I make my living as a Photoshop retoucher. Much of the work I do is celebrity related, and often involves those showy magazine spreads where a B-list celebrity shows off his or her home. It’s MTV Cribs for older generations (in other words, those who still read). What I often find in the photos are startling similarities in artistic taste.

Seemingly every one of these celebrities has the same coffee-table book collection, including books on Picasso, jazz, and Man Ray. It’s as if the photographer carries a satchel of the same books to each celebrity’s house simply for the automatic class boost they provide.

It seems impossible to me that so many people actually have those books because they enjoy the artists’ work. A friend of mine brought up the cynical idea that this is what you get when you allow the masses access to art — great works often become, in effect, filler. The coffee-table book industry is, in many ways, a seller of white noise, used by individuals who hope to give their home an aesthetic boost.

While this isn’t far from the truth, I can’t help but be reminded that my own home contains some of these elements. I’ve collected numerous statues of the Buddha, mostly as gifts I’ll admit I’m guilty of encouraging, even though I don’t consider myself a Buddhist. While I try to adhere to the tenets of Buddhism, I do much the same with the teachings of Christ. Why then do I happen to have no pictures of Jesus in my home? The Buddha and the Christ both preached similar ideas, and each one’s life path followed the other one’s fairly closely. The only reason I encourage Buddhist trinkets is because I prefer the aesthetic the Buddha’s image creates.

Film is a genre that’s often pulled between the two sides of this argument. Recently, I had the pleasure of watching the Soviet World War II film Come and See (1985). It’s not a particularly abstract film, as set by the standards of most Russian movies. It contains some of the best cinematography I’ve ever seen, and also some of the most haunting imagery I’ve ever witnessed in a war film. Yet if you were to recommend it to a group of average American filmgoers, e.g. those who think Saving Private Ryan is the greatest war movie ever made, many of them probably wouldn’t watch it. Why is that?

To start with, Come and See is a subtitled movie. People don’t particularly like to read during a movie, and I don’t disagree with that sentiment. It can be difficult to follow the action on-screen while reading dialogue. It can also detract from the immersive experience intended by the filmmaker. That’s one major strike against Come and See.

It’s very rare for a foreign film to have much impact here in the States. The most recent one I can think of is 1998′s Life Is Beautiful, which came out a few months after Saving Private Ryan and features a clownish Roberto Benigni doing his best “Italian Robin Williams” impression. (He quickly wore out his American welcome at the Oscars with an over-the-top acceptance speech for Best Actor.)

Recently it was announced that this summer’s Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs now has the third-highest worldwide box-office gross of all time, behind Titanic (1997) and The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003). So you see, America doesn’t have the only audiences who would rather watch talking animals than something of greater artistic merit.

So why doesn’t this frustrate me as a filmmaker as well as a fan of great filmmaking?

The simple answer is that not everyone can be expected to understand great art. That’s often precisely what makes it great. The Picassos of the world have always been misunderstood in their time, long before they ended up as coffee-table coasters. In fact, my source of frustration with the same 15 coffee-table books stems from the fact that many of those artists have never spoken particularly loudly to me. I know, as an artistic individual, that I hear music differently than others, I judge art based on how it stimulates my own mind, and I watch movies based on my very own set of standards. To wish upon the world that everyone would understand my favorite movies would be to strip away what’s special about those particular films.

So the next time you find yourself in an argument with someone over a film, try to remember that the very reason you appreciate it is because it cast aside the white noise of your daily life. Expecting another human being to respond to it in the same manner is like expecting everyone to have the same favorite food or to fall in love with the same woman. That would lead to a very boring society, and would remove exactly what it is that’s special to you about that work.

One of the nicest things about writing for Popdose is that I’m surrounded by people that do stuff. Among our ranks are actual musicians, actors, dancers, screenwriters, and filmmakers, as well as accomplished writers. It’s not like some sites (that taste precludes me from mentioning) where the staff is filled by people whose dreams and talents crashed and burned, so they spend their digital days ragging on those who have succeeded.

Shortly after our very own Arend Anton previewed a trailer he made for a project he was working on, Red Gold, I sent him some audio files. I started in earnest on a new instrumental recording, going a little more ambient and a lot more ‘filmic’ and thought, just maybe, Arend could create a video for these two tracks. I wasn’t going to hold my breath, though. After all, creative types are known for a perpetual lack of fundage, he might be needing a few bucks for his efforts and, not coincidentally, I had none to offer.

He was only too willing to take a new project on and, with my complete blessing to go nuts and do whatever he felt like with my music, the wheels were set in motion. By the time he was done, he had presented a visual tone-poem touching on everything from the dread of the day-to-day, the complete freedom of innocence and, framed as a home-movie/memory, a bittersweet vignette. He named the film (Outlive).

Dw. Dunphy – The Darkness

Dw. Dunphy – The Dawn

The characters in question are two transforming Chevys named Skids and Mudflap. These robots speak with stereotypical “urban” voices, have oversized ears, and are apparently illiterate. I must preface this article by saying that I haven’t seen the movie. I have debated whether to see a movie I already know I’ll hate simply to be able to explain to people why, but I don’t really want to be a part of its guaranteed box office intake (it made over $200 million in its first five days).

There are people who have defended Skids and Mudflap by claiming they could be mocking white kids. After all, suburban white kids have long been among hip-hop’s largest audience. Others claim that it’s just the media looking for a controversy where one doesn’t really exist and pushing their politically correct agenda on audiences.

Perhaps the problem isn’t whether the characters are racist or not, but rather that they’re pointless and stupid. Director Michael Bay has claimed that he made those characters for the kids. Michael Bay has worked in caricature his entire career. That it’s just now receiving such mass negative attention is what really surprises me.

One merely needs to watch the trailer for Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen to see what I’m talking about. Megan Fox’s character is introduced in the most absurdly sexual position, hovering over a motorcycle. It’s attractive, for sure, but it probably sets back the feminist movement by at least 20 years. Sitting through that trailer made my head want to explode.

People might say, “You can’t really judge a movie by its trailer.” That may be technically true, but the point of the trailer is so you can make an early judgment. The trailer should have chosen some of the best shots and the best dialogue to make you want to see the movie. If they did, then I might have to nominate the script for worst of all time.

The problem isn’t just that Skids and Mudflap are offensive stereotypes; it’s that everything about Bay’s work is offensive. Whether he’s committing crimes against cinema, against language, gender, or ethnicity, Michael Bay constantly pushes the stupidity envelope.

The fact that people flock to his movies says more about marketing than anything else. Prior to the first Transformers movie (2007), Michael Bay was a filmmaker in danger of losing his backing. His previous movie, The Island (2005) was a flop. Transformers was considered a make-or-break movie for him, and it’s a real marketing dream: the toys and cartoons, which debuted in the mid-’80s, have a following over several generations, so the audience was there from the beginning. Any filmmaker could succeed with an already established base like that.

Of course, Bay’s solution is always to ram as much stupidity down the audience’s throat as possible. Above all, the fault should be placed on the studio executives who spoon-feed it to the public. The fact is that most moviegoers do want a great story and good dialogue, even if they don’t know it. If an action movie is truly memorable, it’s always because of the storyline. We remember the snow battle in The Empire Strikes Back (1980) because it has a dramatic impact on the story. Likewise, the truck flip in The Dark Knight (2008) is all the more impressive because it’s not happening every two minutes. The impact is more pronounced.

That people are angry over Skids and Mudflap might be a good sign, since it shows that people are waking up to realize the idiocy of these movies. Sure, Revenge of the Fallen made incredible money in its first week, but the lasting impact of these movies probably isn’t so strong. It will probably win an MTV Movie Award when all is said and done, maybe even a visual-effects Oscar (ten Best Picture nominees still isn’t enough room to fit this movie). There will surely be better action movies to come out this  year, ones with actual intelligence and story, that will cause viewers to leave Revenge of the Fallen in the cinematic dustbin.

At least until the next Transformers movie comes out.

Some of you will remember that I recently lost my job, which has forced me to start thinking outside of the box. The other day, I responded to a Craigslist ad for a stand-in on a movie set. I’m roughly the same build as one of the listed actors, and attracted by the allure of a $250 day rate, I made the drive into Hollywood on Saturday morning.

I can’t stand Hollywood. It’s filthy; nothing like the shiny image the world seems to have of it. Every inch seems to have a layer of black soot. It’s nearly impossible to drive two blocks under five minutes, and parking costs the price of a matinee movie ticket.

Stepping past a homeless man, I entered the office building and filed into the elevator with four other men. These didn’t look like the actors from my earlier description. These were tired-looking men with weathered faces, the type you’d find in a John Steinbeck novel. Some possessed the same build as me: tall and lanky. My competition.

Once the elevator door opened, we all shuffled into Suite 420; the office of the agency that had posted the advertisement. We were instructed to sign in and then grab a flier.

“You will be reading from the paper,” said a potbellied man, who appeared to be the one in charge.

Alarm bells went off in my head. Nobody said anything about reading. I had thought my job would be as the invisible man, standing on a tape marked “X” while grips adjusted the lighting. What this situation suddenly appeared to be was a large cull for all kinds of talent.

I grew up wanting to be an actor. All the way up until my senior year of high school, it’s what I wanted to do. But I think what I really wanted was the accolades and the glory, and not the anxiety and hard work that goes into it. Now that I was in this office with a dozen sweaty, nervous actors, I remembered why I stopped acting.

Luckily, I was the third person called in. In and out. I walked into the room and shook the girl’s hand. Her name was Dynasty. She explained the services they offered, most of which I didn’t follow on account of my nerves.

“I’m not an actor,” I forewarned. “I’m just looking for work and responded to this on a lark.”

She explained that it wasn’t a problem, and told me to read the monologue. I think I did okay, but it was probably a bit too fast. Dynasty asked me to send some photos in, along with my sizing measurements, and to call at 9:10 on Monday morning.

The entire experience was rather painless, but it reminded me how much I admire what actors do. They put their bodies and spirits on the line every day for their craft. Some of the stereotypes are true. There was one younger guy with gelled hair and a six-day goatee, obviously to give him a more rugged look. He exhaled loudly on the couch, possibly working on his breathing exercises. Everyone in the room appeared to have a story. How far did they come to make this dream real? How much failure had they experienced? I might not be an actor, but I can certainly understand what they endure.

9:10, Monday morning. I dial the number and wait on hold. A fast-talking New Yorker picks up and tells me I was flagged, that I read well, and that they want me to work as a speaking extra. He says I need to get headshots, and then we can start to work.

Anyway, I’m not really an actor.

Hollywood has panicked a bit in the last few years. For a time, box office numbers took a dive, and they began to blame their troubles on piracy. First, let’s discuss that logic. The entertainment industry always labels pirated works as “lost sales.” That’s not quite true. It’s difficult to predict whether the people who watch pirated movies would have actually paid for that work in the first place. People who use cracked software generally do so out of necessity, and how can the software industry really justify the prices they charge?

None of what I say is the equivocal truth, but then again, neither is the industry’s complaint of “lost sales.” I don’t even know where to look for ripped movies. The people who do it, thought prevalent, still make up an incredibly small number. Would it be justified for the retail industry to blame poor sales on shoplifting, and to call those incidents “lost sales?”

Now that the economy is in the tank, box office numbers have gone back up. Ticket prices haven’t gone down, nor are they even throughout the nation. In Los Angeles, most matinee prices are nearly $10. Los Angeles and New York are incredibly large markets. So much for the rules of supply and demand.

People are online more than ever now. Many are at home because they’ve lost their jobs. Others are struggling with the price of gas and groceries. Yet, amidst all this, people are still crowding movie theaters. Is it because people will pay any price for a distraction from the difficulties of their daily life?

Online networking sites have become ridiculously big. I resisted during the heyday of Myspace (heyday is now two years ago). Eventually I surrendered to Facebook, and have become a very willing participant. I still don’t understand Twitter, though. What these websites have done is help remove some of the anonymity of the Internet. People are more likely to act responsibly on these sites, because normal societal rules often come into play.

The film industry should also be thankful for the rise of these sites. They aren’t just a great marketing resource. They also provide the best advertising someone can get: word of mouth. I often see and participate in long discussions between Facebook friends about movies, and have received numerous recommendations this way. The excitement generated among friends is far more persuasive than any TV commercial could ever be.

Star Trek has become a huge phenomenon, and networking sites certainly played a large part. I didn’t really care for the movie, and made such a comment on my Facebook page. It didn’t take too long for responses to pile up, mostly in disagreement. In a couple hours’ time, the thread had become longer than any previous discussion I had initiated. People have strong opinions about that movie, and despite my insistence that it won’t have a very lasting impact I am resigned to the fact that people seem to respond to it well.

People are online so often now that it’s hard to believe people are willing to drive to a theater to watch a movie. Perhaps the Internet has become such a major part of our regular lives that a movie is a welcome break from it. After all, a dark movie theater is one of the only places where electronic devices are actively discouraged.

I think most people still want to pay for entertainment. High school kids don’t impress their dates by downloading Transformers 2. Making and spending money is something people take pride in, and I don’t think that’s likely to change anytime soon. How’s that for a free market argument?

Now pass this column around on your Tweets.

This isn’t exactly a new thought. Franklin Delano Roosevelt famously said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Yet we continue to be afraid for little reason other than we have been told to.

In fact, it seems as if every generation of parents has had a pop-culture influence to be frightened of. Elvis’ hips seem silly now, but at the time they caused a near panic from parents.  For every generation of children that grows up under these evil influences, a new fear rises when they raise their own kids.

Movies exploit this concept extraordinarily well. What reason do you really have to fear a horror film? When I was young, I remember being frightened by seeing Freddy Krueger even on a TV commercial. In fact, I’ve never even seen any of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies, probably because I was so terrified of the killer as a child.

If we were to think logically about it, these movies wouldn’t frighten us at all. The only reason horror movies frighten is because people have been told that they’re scary. It is this manipulation of the audience that demonstrates how much movies rely on distortion. If you were to watch a horror film on mute, or dubbed with polka music, you would probably laugh at it instead. In fact, I often laugh at scary movies because I haven’t allowed my mind to be put in that frightful state.

Often, scary movies don’t stand the test of time. I watched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre a few years ago for the first time. I had been told that it was one of the scariest movies ever made. I recall being somewhat frightened for a time, until the scene in which a teenage girl is chased through the woods. My heart was pumping, for a time, but the chase carried on for such a long time that my brain suddenly switched on, and I started laughing uncontrollably. It was as if the Benny Hill theme was being played while the nubile young girl ran from Leatherface.

In our world, there are so many things we are told to fear. Terrorism is perhaps the most ridiculous of all our modern fears. The very construction of the word commands you to be afraid. It’s illogical to fear terrorism, because fearing it accomplishes the goals of the perpetrator. George W. Bush and Dick Cheney like to trumpet the fact that no terrorist attack was launched on US soil after the September 11th attacks in 2001, but we spent the following seven years in constant fear of another. Doesn’t that mean that they failed to protect us from terror?

With all the fearful reporting our media is responsible for, I’m surprised nobody has created a show called Nothing to Fear. The whole concept would be to debunk the ideas that are created by the media and the government. They would be the only show on TV to do it, and could use the exact same exciting footage used by 20/20. In fact, the only thing that frightens me about 20/20 is the idea that Barbara Walters is thought of as an actual journalist. But I digress.

True fear comes from the unexpected. Perhaps this is why I generally don’t find horror films all that frightening. This concept works in many different genres of film. When you are told that a comedy is hilarious, it often fails to live up to expectations. Hype often works against the smaller, more earnest movies that seem to garner Oscar attention every year.

In fact, I’m not sure most people watch horror movies so that they may be frightened. Most horror movies these days are mere schlocky bloodbaths that are enjoyed mainly for their “so bad it’s good” elements. I love watching the ’80s horror movie Sleepaway Camp, because I enjoy “exposing” new people to the hilarious stupidity of it. Many horror films employ what I call the “thud moment,” in which a hand grabs someone’s shoulder out of the darkness whilst a single note is played by flinging cats at a string-section (I assume). But would this really be scary taken out of context, or even upon the second viewing?

Perhaps it is merely human nature to think this way. As children, we fear monsters under the bed and bogeymen in the closet. Perhaps, as adults, we still haven’t developed the logical minds we think we have. The only difference is what is widely chosen as the acceptable fear. Movies exploit this, but in the end it’s just entertainment. The movie Jaws helped to grow an already illogical fear of shark attacks, so much so that its writer, Peter Benchley, even spent the last years of his life defending sharks from man’s cruelty. Perhaps, instead of fearing the impact of popular culture on our children, we should first consider how it has frightened us.

In our everyday lives, we commonly adhere to societal rules and standards. People mostly treat each other with politeness and courtesy. We hold the door for strangers and wave after another driver lets us change lanes. Do we do this out of our own inner kindness or because we fear retribution for doing the wrong thing?

The Internet is an entirely different world. For many, it has become a separate reality. Often the rules of politeness disintegrate in this world and our truly animalistic side overcomes us. It is the ability to retain anonymity that gives people the strength to ignore the fear of reprisal.

My neighbor Mary has a young dog, named Ash. He’s a mix between a Yellow Labrador and a German Shepherd, and one of the most handsome dogs you’ll ever meet. When Mary leaves town, I often take care of Ash, mostly because I like dogs and enjoy being a helpful guy.

The other day, Mary left me in charge of Ash for a few days. During our first walk, Ash summoned his inner wolf. His nose to the ground, Ash pulled to the end of his leash. An eight inch-long dead rodent lay on the sidewalk, its guts spilling out on the pavement. In the split-second after I spotted it, Ash had completely consumed it. Never in my life, even while watching countless David Attenborough documentaries, have I seen an animal so completely devour a carcass. I tried to pry Ash’s iron jaws open, but the corpse was already in his throat, with only a shredded tail sticking out of his mouth.

It was a reminder of the savagery of nature. No matter how many centuries of domestication, the dog will always resort to his baser instincts when confronted with the appropriate situation.

The documentary film Darkon (2006) is about individuals who participate in real life role-playing. Think World of Warcraft with actual costumes. The film follows these people, generally sweet kids who faced the adversity of being outcasts in school or work. We all know the type; some of us even are those individuals. These inhibited people found a way to release their inner selves through the game of Darkon.

Within the game, everyone has a different personality. Some of them become great leaders, one of them reminded me of the archetypal “fool” of Shakespeare. The storyline mostly follows two leaders. One of these men essentially becomes a power-mad general, and the other decides to lead a resistance against him. These men are playing characters, but you can’t help but hate one and root for the other.

The film gives us a fascinating look into our own inner character. Forget for a moment that Darkon is as dorky a game as is possible, and try to imagine what kind of character you would form. This would be an opportunity to act differently from your everyday personality and the people you interact with. Whom would you side with? Would you exist to bring harmony to the game or to create chaos?

It’s a fascinating psychological question; one that is answered often within the anonymity of the Internet. People treat each other terribly on many sites. Have you ever read the comments after a Youtube video? I can actually feel myself getting dumber every time I glance at them. Other sites have more respectable commentators, though every single one is hit with the occasional “troll.” Social networking sites like Facebook have mostly done a good job of bucking this trend, mainly because people aren’t assuming anonymous aliases.

Darkon might be just a game, but it does a good job of visually demonstrating what we all become when the rules of society are removed. Some of us become bullies and some of us awaken the hero within.

In many ways, the Internet is a virtual Wild West. It’s full of strong personalities, bandits, poker tournaments, and more sex than anyone will ever need. In Darkon, real life friendships are strained by events that happen within the game. That probably wouldn’t happen in your average Halo tournament (not that I’ve been to one).

Films like Darkon force us to examine our own lives just as closely as the lives of its characters. I can’t ever see myself engaging in something like Darkon, but I can certainly see the motivation behind it. In many ways, we have been domesticated just like Ash has. Society has a chain around our neck and when we fight the rules, the chain only tightens. The members of Darkon have, at the very least, found a way to take the chain off on weekends.

Popdose currently has two fine critics in Robert Cashill and Lance Berry. These are two gentlemen whose opinions I respect and enjoy. Many times, however, I find myself in serious disagreements with them.

I don’t consider myself a critic, though I have agreed to do the occasional DVD review here. Though I argue with my friends incessantly about film, to the point where they are often surprised when I actually like a movie, I don’t want people to think of me as a critic. Often my opinions stem more from feeling than actual critical thought, which may or may not be a good thing.

Say the name “McG” out loud. Sounds pretty stupid, doesn’t it? Now allow your natural reactions be displayed when I tell you he brought us Charlie’s Angels and Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle. Are you vomiting yet? Now that you know all that, check out this little movie he just made based on the cult, critical, and fan favorite Terminator movies.

I know you hate it already. How could you not? The guy’s name sounds like a Scottish gang member. He’s responsible for a movie starring not only Cameron Diaz, but also Drew Barrymore; a movie that looked to have a brighter color palette than an 8-year-old Pokémon fan’s brain scan, mid-seizure.

The critics all hate his new film Terminator Salvation as well, leading you to be very afraid when you walk into the theater. All your worries as a fan of Terminator seem to have been validated even before you set foot in the theater. You’ve read the 33% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, a rating that is normally reserved for the latest Wayans Brothers parody film (Dance Flick, debuting the same week, ended up with only a slightly lower score).

I knew all of this going into Terminator Salvation. I noticed a couple plot holes, some occasional poor direction decisions, and bad acting. I said earlier that I tend to judge films more on feeling than critical thought. Surprisingly, this movie gave me a good feeling. The action is intense and shot mostly well. There is a robot character, played by Sam Worthington, who echoes the same sense of conflicted humanity than we felt in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s T-800 from Terminator 2: Judgment Day.

Some of it doesn’t make sense, such as why a terminator fires at Marcus early on if Skynet wants to keep him alive. Lance Berry, who absolutely despises this film, pointed out a plot hole I’d rather not discuss for the sake of spoilers. These are both very good questions, but I still don’t see them as an example of Gene Siskel’s “idiot plot” scenario, in which the plot would be resolved easily were the characters not idiots.

The fact is that the James Cameron movies, which are held in such high esteem, are also laced with problems. There is probably as much hokey dialogue and acting in Terminator 2: Judgment Day than there is in Terminator Salvation. Go back and watch that movie, as I did recently, if you don’t believe me. Terminator Salvation fulfills its purpose quite well; that is to be an enjoyable sequel despite being mostly unnecessary.

Some of the critical anger has been directed at the lack of humor. To start with, this isn’t the same fish-out-of-water story that made Arnold’s performance work in a humorous manner. Tonally, it’s exactly like the apocalyptic dream we saw in the second film. This is a big, sweaty action film without the stupidity and emotional retardation of a Michael Bay movie.

Sometimes I wonder whether there is a conference of film critics where they decide which movies they will like and which they will destroy. How else can the mostly glowing reviews for Will Ferrell’s abominable collaborations with Adam McKay be explained?

Another example of my recent disagreement with the critical community is with Star Trek. The critical reception to this particular summer reboot couldn’t have been more different from that of Terminator Salvation. Star Trek received an incredible 95% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. It’s a fun movie if you ignore a lot of plot holes (the black holes, anyone?) and annoying choices by the director and some obnoxious characters.

I found Star Trek to be a parody, with caricatures rather than characters, and little mockeries spread throughout the film. For example, when Kirk and Sulu parachute onto the Romulan drill, a character is given a red space suit and promptly disposed of. There is also the scene in which Kirk beds a sexy green alien broad. Star Trek reminded me in some ways of the critically reviled, Joel Schumacher-helmed Batman movies, which took a lot of the worst elements of the 1960s version and winked into the camera. Granted, Star Trek is a lot better than those movies.

I should mention that I am no more a Terminator fan than I am a fan of Star Trek. I grew up watching Star Trek with my parents because they controlled the television in our home and that’s what they enjoyed watching. I respect Star Trek for the moralistic and optimistic future it attempted to convey, but don’t really consider myself a real follower. Likewise, I’ve seen Terminator 2: Judgment Day a few times, and only parts of the first movie. As only a casual fan, I didn’t notice many of Salvation’s “wink-wink” references until they were explained to me later.

I find it hard to believe that Terminator Salvation would have been any better had James Cameron directed it. To start with, James Cameron seems to possess the recessive George Lucas gene. He is a very skilled and arrogant technical director who has a lot of trouble handling emotion competently. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if his Avatar, scheduled for release later this year, turns out like Lucas’ ham-fisted return (though I hope it doesn’t). Linda Hamilton’s acting was never a strong point of the classic Judgment Day, and the movie is basically a B-movie with great action and some flimsy time travel plotting. I still love it, though, and so do you.

Terminator Salvation probably isn’t a classic. Neither is Star Trek, despite its incredible critical reception. The last 40 minutes of Terminator Salvation feel like they’ve been chopped to hell in the editing room, and my colleague Lance raises some very valid criticisms. I’m never going to convince him that this movie is better than he thinks, and I hope his opinion of me hasn’t been destroyed by my differing view.

When we watch a movie, it’s often hard to judge it without taking into account certain outside forces. Expectations can often harm our experience. I had supremely high expectations for The Dark Knight, and had to watch the movie several times before I was able to separate my feelings from my expectations and actually enjoy it on its own. The shame is that in defending Terminator Salvation, I’m not really certain whether it’s actually a good movie, or whether my expectations had simply been lowered. What I do know is that this column wouldn’t have to be written had Terminator Salvation and Star Trek received roughly the same 70% score on Rotten Tomatoes. I enjoyed Terminator Salvation for what it was, and didn’t enjoy Star Trek for the same reason.

In the end, it’s all just a feeling.