menageriemadness

[menageriemadness]

Pancho’s Restless Randoms

Dear Readers, your humble narrator apologizes for his brief absence from his duties here at the Menagerie. This poor familiar found himself trapped and mired like Artax deep within the bowels of the underworld surrounded by no less than a hundred drooling goblins that were entrusted to my care. Can you believe it? All this while searching for the Dune tin bucket worm dental dam with the other familiars for our Masters at the Menagerie. Suffice to say, the goblins will not be a permanent addition - have no fear, Dear Readers.

Consider them merely a speed bump.

I will return shortly. Once these loathsome goblins are dealt with - I will return with many more lurid insights into my favorite films and things.

While things have been hard for your narrator, I ask you to be kind to yourselves and to one another. I’ve seen so much bitterness as of late, it would be nice to share a little happiness, if you’ve some to spare, to yourselves and to those around you.

I’d just like to come back from the underworld to a much merrier world, but sad or merry, I must leave you… for now.

[menageriemadness]

Pancho’s Myopic Movie Review - II : Dungeons and Dragons - Honor Among Thieves

Part I: I Roll to Seduce the Dragon

Ah! At last, a true fantasy flick that would make Roger Corman eat the script out of sheer jealousy knowing that he himself, the king of schlock, would not be able to replicate it even with a trillion monkeys plunking away at hypothetically hyperbolic typewriters.

Yes, dear readers, it is once again time for a Myopic Movie Review from your humble narrator, JP Pancho, fresh from overseeing a new batch of films delivered to the Menagerie via semi intelligent rocks rolled downhill toward a small Tibetan village.

2023 gave us many thrilling and unexpected outcomes, Zelinsky, hallowed be his name, kicking Putin in the teeth, an indictment of a former president, and Paramount producing what is likely the be the best fantasy flick of the decade - D&D: Honor Among Thieves.

Our story takes place in the D&D campaign setting of Faerun ie the Forgotten Realms. Actor turned director Frankie “the Destroyer of Box Offices (and orifaces)” Daley teams up with small time director Jonnny “Boi” Goldstein and deliver a pithy, action packed, and simple adventure that harkens back to the golden era of 1980s schlock with a modern flair for comedy, on screen table humor, and a real multi million dollar studio budget.

What we are left with is a stunning masterpiece of epic and small scale proportions. Even the stakes, which continually raise throughout the script never turn into saving the planet or the Realms themselves, just saving a single, albeit famous, city from the sinister mechanizations of an evil Thayan scheme. Overall - it’s low stakes, and for that, dear readers, your humble narrator is enterally grateful.

I saw this movie alone after a really rough day of feeling hopeless about the future and frustrated with the creeping walls closing in around me. I decided to go see it, bought the tin bucket hat and bladder buster cup, and tromped inside the theatre to find myself the only familiar in the whole town who wanted to see this movie opening weekend. It was empty.

What I saw blew my mind from the first 10 mins.

I laughed. I laughed so hard I cried. I even teared up a few times at some of the genuinely simple and heartfelt monologues and troubles the characters faced. When we came to the pivotal “all is lost moment” I was completely subverted when they all simply sat on a stump and had themselves a group hug. SIMPLE.

That’s all I have to say about this movie. There’s nothing insanely clever or deep about this plot, dialogue, or characters. It’s simple. Simple. Simple. Simple. And I love it. Theres a Druid who doesn’t like people, a barbarian with a penchant for halflings, a Harper bard who’s given up on life, an uptight Thayan paladin who doesn’t understand turn of phrase, a wizard who sucks at wizardry, and a conman who cons his way right into my heart. Nothing wild, nothing new, but the actors really did a great job making me feel like it’s a motley band of nobodies thrust into plans way above their level range. There’s a giant bridge that they need to cross, but it’s rigged with deadly traps. As the truly bearably unbearable lawful good paladin explains the intricate manner in which they need to cross, someone sets off the trap and the bridge collapses. That’s it, nothing more. No huge danger, only a new obstacle they have to work together to solve - just like the tabletop rpg.

When they see the city in peril and they have a literal ship filled with gold and all Chris Pine can say is “ah, shit,” and turn the boat around (because they all need the xp to level), definitely says it all. I remember my own experiences in rpgs where me and the party did the exact same thing. We turned our asses right back around and we defended the town, because that’s what heroes do.

The simplicity of the plot along with the heartfelt, funny, endearing characters and their clear motivations drives the plot and keeps the action quick. I love that everyone has a moment of defined growth as well, either letting go of something or learning to overcome their own insecurities. It’s never anything truly massively deep, but it’s real problems we all face - imposter syndrome, loss of loved ones, trusting new people, and learning to let go of the past and embrace the now, looking toward a brighter future. There’s plenty of wonderful moments where I can just see a party of adventurers on their own little D&D adventure getting told what epic things are happening in game, but this time we get to see it live action and in person - the obese dragon (great lore reference from Forgotten Realms for all you nerds), the exquisite Druid chase scene, beating up a hobgoblin in prison, Jarnathan’s escape, the old west street battle with the red wizard (and a tumbling basket - lol), a reference to the D&D cartoon during the Games, and seeing Hugh Grant’s face on the Goodyear blimp - chef kiss 😚 it’s a treat.

Speaking of live action and in person, the special effects are absolutely incredible. I haven’t seen such a good mix of CGI and practical puppetry since probably The Sorcerer’s Stone, and Jarnathan and the dragonkin and the furries are all charming and made me almost spit out my popcorn because I wasnt expecting such good puppets and animatronics.

There’s a scene where our heroes get sucked into the ground. I was shocked to discover it was all practical - they literally dug a pit and had them sink in it. Praise Helm!

What more can I say about this incredible film? Much, much more, but unfortunately, dear readers, all good things must come to an end, and your humble narrator needs to be off on a special task for the Menagerie - mucking out the vile Mephits who’ve taken over the water closet.

I give this movie an arbitrary score of one childhood and a late night college D&D session out of 7. If you haven’t seen it, please go watch it. Mind you, it’s not the best movie ever written, it’s not the best acted movie either, but it’s full of whimsy and charm, and I’m pretty sure Roger Corman is hastily writing a script to combat it, if only to cash in on the zeitgeist.

Alas, our time in the Menagerie has come to a close. Until next time, dear readers. I hope all is well in your world, for if it is so, then it is as well in mine.

Your Humble Narrator,

J. P. Pancho

[menageriemadness]

Pancho’s Myopic Movie Review - I : AMERICAN PSYCHO

Part I: The Best Comedy - Funnier than the Exorcist!

So, I wanted to start this blog with a bang. Picture, if you will, a young man freshly relieved of his husbandly duties due to a sudden and rather untimely change in emotions on the part of his now ex-wife who thought it no better than to disappear in the middle of the night with a doctor who drives sports cars and eats lobster on a private jet. And who would you guess was left on the side of the road waiting to be picked up from work by the same now ex-wife who absconded with the family jewels and flown off to god knows where to ease her troubled soul? That would be me, your dear humble narrator JP Pancho who walked home in the the dead of night because he couldn’t afford an Uber. Such was my dismay that I found myself in a deep, dark bottomless hole of hate, self reflection, and bitter loathing. However, I was not to stay there too long, no my brothers, for I had bills to pay, you see. The landlord isn’t too kind to those who can’t pay his rent, and my time of mourning was at an end a mere week later.

It just so happened that I managed to land myself back on my feet as a car salesman three states away, as many divorcees often find themselves. At that dealership I noticed many things. I made it a mission to be as honest of a salesman I could be, even taking risks to ensure that cars were properly maintained and checked before selling them to the customer. There was a singular instance when the manager made me sell a car with a broken axle, a large metal gash on the driver and rear passenger side door, and an inside that looked like a small child had exploded into molecular chunks all over the cloth upholstery. I took steps to ensure that the car was adequately repaired and safe to drive, even taking a major cut in pay to ensure the customer was taken care of, despite the protestations of my manager, because I thought, the world could use a few more honest salesmen, and I, your dear humble narrator, wanted to be one of the good guys.

All the while, I saw around me the excess of capitalism - drugs, sex, and unscrupulous manipulation of lesser minds who couldn’t grasp the concept of someone shaking your hand with a soulless grin in one while snatching your pocketbook with another. I’d hear stories of how people would come to them, on hands and knees thanking them for their “honest” dealings and getting them such a good deal only to hear the minute they walked out the doors and drove away, “I ripped the bastard off fourteen grand” on a car that will just be repossessed to the dealership and sold again three months later - their credit, to kindly put it, was “shit.”

This is the horror of middle class America - the American horror story of our common man taking advantage of the one thing all Americans need in order to function on a daily basis in our great experimental American democracy… the singular need for a car.

When I eventually quit that job and moved back home to family and started work in the Menagerie, I happened to reconnect with an old friend who invited me out for a night of tomfoolery and shenanigans. Through the cigarette smoke and clatter of beer bottles over the cacophony of deadbeat local musicians strumming away at the three power chords they could remember, I heard my ol’ chum utter the four words I wanted to hear all evening, “wanna watch American Psycho?”

My heart skipped a beat, I swooned at the thought of leaving that noisy place to hear the soft dulcet intro of Patrick Bateman’s morning routine. So, we paid our tabs, left a considerable tip for our hosts, and careened our wagons over to his humble abode to bask in the humming electronic glow of the 2000 masterpiece starring Christian Bale.

As the soft piano played and the black screen fades into the luxurious dinner scene with yuppies and their ilk feasting away at food too good for their mediocre tastes, I noted one consistency throughout my viewing - the wide mouth grin creeping into an ever present toothy smile on my face. I glanced over to my ol’ chum. He too bore the same simple smirk creeping ever so carefully into the same wide, toothy smile.

Throughout, we laughed, we pointed like Leo at the tv, chuckled and shook our heads when Patrick insults the hobo, and both audibly groaned and physically frowned when he curb stopped the dog in the alleyway. Killing the hobo wasn’t enough, you see, for the audience to know Patrick truly isn’t a very nice person. He had to kill the dog as well, the death of the innocent mammal completely severing him from the emotional ties connecting the audience to their up til then absurd protagonist. From there we hate him. From that point on, we hope he gets caught. That’s the clever and tragic comedic element of American Psycho. Patrick never gets caught.

I love this movie. To quote Michael Keaton, I’ve seen it “167 times and it keeps getting funnier every single time I see it!”

Why though?

For me, it’s the sardonic mix of my personal life experiences dealing with a mentally ill wife, a corrupt self important manager, the excess of capitalism oozing from the pores of sycophantic detached salesmen, and my own dips into psychological restlessness while coping through my own personal episodes of grief and self loathing. Patrick’s confession to his lawyer at the end remains one of my favorite monologues simply because I’ve been on both ends of that infamous phone call as both Patrick and his the lawyer.

I think the true comedy of American Psycho comes from the tragic experiences of my life as well as those I’ve inflicted on others on purpose or inadvertently. In truth, we are all a little bit of Bateman due to our own human flaws and wanton desires. We hurt those we love or think we love. We tend to go with the sure thing, much like Patrick and his many lovers and restless sexual escapades. To deny it is to deny the truth that we are all American Psychos, we just don’t go around hacking up hookers with chainsaws and making obscene doodles in our planner for Chloe Savigny to find - arguably though, neither did Bateman.

Was his life so boring that he had to concoct an entire false reality to keep him from going over the edge? Is it an escapist fantasy where the daily stressors of his meticulous image, the mundanity of those around him, and the maddening aggravation of daily routines led him to conceive an alternate place where his deepest, darkest wants could be fulfilled and explored?

In any case, I and others around me acknowledge the disturbing elements of American Psycho. Patrick is not someone to be admired. He’s a terrible person, and his problems are of his own creation. I don’t write this to minimize the wretchedness of this person, but rather to pontificate on the very real absurdities we as Americans face on a day to day basis. What Patrick experiences, albeit in the upper echelon of American society, still reeks of the daily grind so many of us face - a detached significant other (Bateman and his fiancé), the stress of maintaining class images/the need for acceptance (Bateman and his peers), the need for self importance (Bateman constantly trying and getting refused for a reservation at Dorsia only to hear the taunting laughter of the maitre de on the other line), and the want to express oneself in some meaningful way (Bateman’s long and ultimately pointless diatribes on music to his prostitute companions)… don’t these all relate to us in some way?

Overall, it’s a movie that sticks with me long after I’ve watched it. It’s one of my favorites that I pull out any time I need a good laugh or want to watch something that makes me think about myself, the world, and my place in it. This essay is simply a love letter to the film and all the happy memories I have watching with friends and loved ones, all of us sharing in the laughs, disturbing commentary, and ultimate critique on our American collective experience.

I rate this movie with an arbitrary score of 10 out of a single Willem Dafoe lighthouse monologue on repeat for forty hours.

Alas, our time in the Menagerie has come to a close. Until next time, dear readers. I hope all is well in your world, for if it is so, then it is as well in mine.

Your Humble Narrator,

J. P. Pancho