So TheWilhelmScream is back from London, my first visit to the United Kingdom, and I'm definitely impressed with the Brits' little island. Though why the English somehow decided "jacket potatoes" was a better name for baked potatoes is beyond me. 
One highlight was certainly my visit to the Tower of London where in addition to seeing the crown jewels and learning of medieval torture techniques (tour guide: Torture isn't used for punishment. It's used to enrich the conversation.), one can tour the armory in the White Tower where swords, muskets, bayonets and armor worn by several kings of England are all on display.
Unfortunately, King Henry the VIII's codpiece made TheWilhelmScream feel more than a little inadequate about himself, though admittedly that is not very difficult to do. But honestly, that weenie protector is about the size of a pair of Chipotle burritos! With extra guacamole! Was the King getting stiffies on the battlefield? I tend to doubt it; I think the codpiece's only purpose was self-aggrandizement to which I say, "Henry! You were already the King of frackin' England! Did you really need everyone to think you had gigantism of the woody to improve your reputation?"
Royal jewels aside, I also checked out The Lion King on stage at a Covent Garden theater. It was truly a visual spectacle with performers portraying various jungle creatures with elaborate and ornate costumes, puppets and Rube Goldberg-esque contraptions. The creatures reminded me of rainbow-hued and three-dimensional prehistoric cave paintings, brought to life by the graceful dancers and actors.
The stage version of The Lion King was originally directed by the visionary Julie Taymor, who is also the director of Frida and Titus (often called Shakespeare's worst play; though I like to think of it more as his Pulp Fiction). She most recently helmed Across the Universe, a Hair-like musical about social protest in the 60s and 70s suffused with more than 30 Beatles songs.
Make no mistake, folks, Taymor is a visual genius. Every film of hers is chock full of creativity and images I've never seen anywhere else. I compare her favorably to Tim Burton, both being incomparable stylists whose visual ingenuity can sometimes interfere with their storytelling. Across the Universe, for instance, meanders a bit and doesn't really provide much in the way of suspense. Yet there is still incandescence here - especially the provocative dream-like sequence set to "Strawberry Fields." Bloody strawberries replace the bombs in stock footage of Vietnam War air raids, and explode across the black-and-white landscape in oozing profusions of crimson.
I don't think Tim Burton ever really found the right balance between style and story, but Taymor definitely has come closer -- especially with Frida. It's truly only a matter of time before Taymor finds the palette for her real film masterpiece, and I await eagerly for that day.
Lastly, the flights to and from London provided me a chance to catch up with some movies I missed in the theaters. Here are some quick thoughts.
- Into the Wild - Sean Penn proves to be a capable director, but I still can't get over how both he and author Jon Krakauer position Chris McCandless as some kind of folk hero. The guy was a narcissistic and possibly suicidal douchebag, a view best summed up by this Alaskan park ranger's article.
- Knocked Up - Definitely funnier than I expected after it was panned by several friends, but I really couldn't buy that Katherine Heigl's character would consider Seth Rogan a serious marriage partner. It's pretty rare to find a relationship that works when two people have such drastically different life goals (Rogan wants to smoke pot; Heigl wants to be the next Ryan Seacrest).
- Resurrecting the Champ - Wow. This movie reminds you just how often Samuel L. Jackson totally mails it in (cough. . .Jumper!. . . hack. . .SWAT!) because he does really fine work here. His portrayal as a homeless man who claims to be a former champion fighter deserves a better script. Josh Hartnett is pretty but lame as the reporter who eagerly believes the former boxer's tale in hopes of landing a big scoop.
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