For a couple of days I’ve been wanting to write about the Mission Impossible movies (1-4) which I’d watched in preparation for the next installment of the series. The main reason why I wanted to write about it is not the amazingness of Ving Rhames, but the emotional shite that is MI-2.
And then this morning I finished reading The Martian (you can read Nicoll’s review of it here)! And damn it, the emotions of this book!
Now let’s get to the “comparing apples and oranges part”.
In the first 20 minutes of MI2 Ethan meets Nyah in a vomit inducing slo-mo scene where they gaze into each other eyes from across the room and with flamenco dancers between them (an indication of the passion to follow). He then joins her as she attempts to steel some necklace (of course she’s straddling him in a bath tub as she does that) and again there’s some eye gazing. And to top it all off they talk as they are speeding down a winding road in convertible sports cars, and again, yes you’ve guessed it there’s some eye gazing in slo-mo as they spin and she almost dies, and he saves her and they end up in bed and they are in love (?) with each other. Oh and (spoiler) she saves the world by injecting herself with the super-flu thing, and to save everyone she decides to kill herself, but he saves her…… OH MY GOD.
The creators of the movie must have intended for us to care about Nyah, you know – if you’re a d00d watching this movie you’d want to save her so you could bang her again, and if you’re a d00dette you’d want to be as brave and as pretty and as good a thief as she is. But it does not work. If you have an ounce of functioning brain matter in your skull it does not work. I did not sympathize for her or for him at any point in the movie. And what’s more important – this type of movie does not need us to be emotionally involved in the guy’s sex life as the first MI shows us (and the 4th one for that matter).
To see the “eye gazing” and more of the shite that’s in MI2 you could check out this video:
OH, how could I forget!?! There are doves!
So that was the apple part. Now for the orange part.
I started reading the Martian because Nicoll loved it (and I trust her taste). I thought to myself while reading the first 50 or so pages – damn this is good. This is some funny sciency stuff. I also laughed my head off – and I’ll admit there were tears of laughter. Just check this out:
Hell yeah I'm a botanist! Fear my botany powers!
Yes, of course duct tape works in a near-vacuum. Duct tape works anywhere. Duct tape is magic and should be worshiped.
How come Aquaman can control whales? They’re mammals! Makes no sense.
It’s true, you know. In space, no one can hear you scream like a little girl.
Everything went great right up to the explosion.
But what I did not expect were the tears of empathy and proper emotion. (spoiler) Damn it, I felt tears well in my eyes when the HAB lost pressure and Mark’s potato farm and all the poop-improved soil was frozen! And he worked so hard for it! Damn it, Weir, why did you have to kill of the poop-soil! And in the last couple of pages with the efforts of the Ares crew to save Mark, and with everything. Yeah, tears were in my eyes again, perhaps even one or two were on my cheeks.
I know that I’m a chick (and we’re hormonal and stuff, right?) and that might be the reason why I’ve cried when he got rescued, but still.
Now onto the threat part of the post – to the makers of the movie The Martian if you fuck this up I think you should never visit Croatia because there are at least two hormonal chicks who would be ready to give you a piece of their mind (and show you a couple of inventive uses for duct tape even Mark Watney hadn’t thought of during his year-and-a-half long stay on Mars).
I’ll finish off with one of Mark’s first messages to Earth, a very insightful comment on “the internal agony of the loneliness he felt” on Mars:
Look! A pair of boobs! -> (.Y.)