BITE CLUB: A Rare Case of Seeing the Movie AFTER Reading the Book, or DVD Review: Choke (2009)

My most recent trip to the library brought back three video selections that will get exposure on Public Record: Choke, Angel-A, and the entire 12 episode run of the Ben Stiller Show. I had just dropped off some CDs that I'd held hostage for quite a while (not Iran-Contra long, but long enough to warrant several letters and some very polite phone messages from the lib), so I felt guilty grabbing more precious music and keeping it from the other 10 people that borrow as religiously as I do. I mean, I found the receipt for those CDs in a pair of shorts. As in short pants. Meaning the sun would have been out past 4:15.

So DVDs seemed a better way to assuage any bad blood between me and the keepers of the card catalog (hey, see what I did there?). I had just returned from burning witness testimony onto digital video cassettes, so I had yet to change out of my work attire (read: damn good lookin' suit). I strolled through the DVD section like Roger Sterling, examining my selections with executive discretion and a businessman's patience.

Not really. I had to "drop off a package" like you read about.

I won't give you upchuck-rendering details, but I will tell you that it is hard to answer Nature's call in nice clothes. Mostly because you don't want any...y'know...mementos of the incident on your "dry-clean only" togs. Without venturing further into the scatological, I will also say that there was no good place to put my three selections. So I had to make do. I put them on the corner of the sink, but with Ben Stiller on top. Because it was cardboard casing instead of plastic. There you go.

Suffice to say that I will either plan my trips to both the library and the bank (of porcelain nature) more carefully, or I just won't write about them. Moving along...

When I read Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club, I had already seen the 1999 David Fincher film twice. I had heard about many of his books, and had (unknowingly) already read one of his short stories (the for-strong-stomachs-only "Guts"). Fight Club, though, was the first book of his expanding collection that I had actually read. It led to a very rapid consumption of his other works, including Lullaby, Rant, Haunted (which contains "Guts"), and most recently, Choke. Now, to be fair, I hadn't read the book when the film came out, but I sped up the process so that I could have the privilege of analyzing the film more deeply on my first viewing. While MANY print enthusiasts whine and moan on cue whenever a book adaptation is released (or even announced), I have started to appreciate the print-to-film adaptation process. The advantage comes in already knowing the plot of the story, so that instead of concentrating on that element, you can focus on the execution and interpretation of the source work. Think of it as looking at the "How" instead of the "What".
With Choke, I already knew the basics. Victor Mancini (played nicely but not amazingly by Sam Rockwell) is a med-school drop-out who works at a Colonial Re-enactment park to save his dying mother (Anjelica Houston, who appeared on set by telephone). He goes to sex addict meetings, goes to strip clubs, pretends to choke to death to make money, blibady blabady bloo. What I was looking for with this movie was how writer-director Clark Gregg (his first film as director) handled the material.
In Fight Club, David Fincher nailed the tone and spirit of the book, and even elevated the quality of the story. Some of his tweaks streamlined the film, and his change of ending was a wise choice (admitted by Palahniuk himself). With Choke, Gregg's changes make for an uneven affair.
Right off the bat, the ending bugged me big time. For those who have read it, all I'll say is that it isn't nothing like the book, but it definitely isn't just like it either. Unsatisfying comes to mind; the original ending gave some release to the built-up tension. The movie's ending just sorta pretends it wasn't there. I guess.
Another thing that bothered me is how they attempted to make it more of a comedy with a capital C instead of the truly dark and sardonic work that it is. I mean, the book has some funny parts, but they were trying to market this film for a broader audience than they should have. That's probably why the pulled out the recurring bits of Victor dropping his often grotesque med-school knowledge. Which, come to think of it, really hurt the film. The whole "he's a med-school drop-out" element of his character just seems like an afterthought, since it's really only brought up between he and his mom, and one of the strip club scenes. His medical (or "healing") expertise was essential to fleshing out his character, and led to some of the more stomach-bothering moments that Palahniuk is known for.
On the other side of the coin, Brad William Henke (who played Denny), should have got some sort of recognition for his work in this movie. For a lesser-known actor, he was spot-on with the harder of the two male leads to play (Victor, especially for Rockwell with his style, was not exactly hard to bring to life). Kelly MacDonald was good, but I thought her barely-disguised Scottish accent was distracting.
Anyway, since I don't do a five out of five stars kinda thing, I think I would give this movie must-see status ONLY if you have read the book or want to read it. Otherwise, this might be a good movie to gather some like-minded friends around as a sort of "hanging out while watching a movie" movie.

In the words of LeVar Burton, "I'll see you next time!"

Holy Crap

This post has been a long time coming. My inactivity with regards to my quest to critically disseminate the media content of my local library (and other free media) is rooted in my dual occupations. One of my jobs consists of my gangly self pointing out interesting pieces and vistas of the nearby city, historic and otherwise. The other involves making video recordings of sworn testimony (and I am forced to withhold any further details, under penalties of confidentiality). So now that you know of my double life as tourist wrangler/top-secret videographer, you might understand the sparse nature of this wee little blog. Well, to my one faithful reader (whose own blog maintains a steady pulse despite the writer's 18 million other commitments), the ebb of the tourist season will mark a return of PUBLIC RECORDS (insert the cheering of thousands).

What might help with the frequency of posts will be an attempt to make mini-reviews of albums and movies, rather than more voluminous essays (like my first and only review). I will also include my media crusades that I pick back up from time to time (trying to see/listen to works that I should be familiar with already) and brand new ones that I hope to set out on (Seamus' analytical eye Vs. Tyler Perry's Confounding World Domination).

I hope to bring this back to life mostly for the enjoyment of opening up the floodgates of thought and opinion, so feel free to comment on posts if you happen to have discovered this blog by mistake. Here's to breathing new life into...I don't know where I was going with that sentence. I'm exhausted from all the vocab I was cramming into this post, which could have been a little shorter if I wanted. ANYWAY...

It begins.