Reel Politique: Links of Interest, I Am Legend
The print media are invested in the fact that ultimately their works are better written and more dependably accurate than weblogs. Yet continually I am seeing blogs and talkbacks that are more insightful and sharp-edged than the web edition of mainstream publishing. As an example I can point the reader to today’s New York Times, in which A. O. “Tony” Scott reviewed I Am Legend. Scott’s review is almost convincing, as he cites it as a film “not without its enchantments” and one that rides on the charm of its lead actor, Will Smith, a specialist in science fiction films. Mr. Scott paints a bucolic vision of the film’s post-apocalyptic Manhattan in which Smith’s sole survivor frolics: “From his home base in the elegant Washington Square town house he was lucky enough to own (on a government employee’s salary) before the big die-off, he makes daylight forays that are like an adventure-tourist fantasy. He does a little deer hunting on Park Avenue and some indoor fishing at the Temple of Dendur, picks fresh corn in Central Park and smacks golf balls across the Hudson from the deck of the aircraft carrier Intrepid.”
It all sounds so cozy. But then, just after the review, is a reader comment by someone with the user name kevindrooney. He basically annihilates Mr. Scott’s review — without having even seen the film. “Chasing deer in a Mustang? What is that supposed to mean? Driving golf balls off an aircraft carrier? Why? I can see why smug men in predictable, comfortable lives play golf, but once the world disappears in a flash and you are hunted by cannibals at night, who has the equanimity or plain simple-mindedness to want to knock golf balls into a looming void? It sounds from the review like Will’s character should be working at hunting, not golf, anyway. And why kill animals at all when you live in the middle of many square miles of canned food?” I strongly recommend that readers take in Mr. Scott’s review and the talk back retorts, and I salute Mr. kevindrooney and all other sharp-eyed posters who keep the big boys in the dallies on their toes.