What will you build next with Stud.io? Available for Mac and WindowsA year ago, the Sci Fi Channel relaunched itself as Syfy. And, in honor of the occasion, premiered the series "Warehouse 13." In the 12 months since then, Syfy has set a number of ratings records. Its audience has grown, and shows like "Warehouse 13" have been pretty successful for the network. As a matter of fact, the network is thrilled to tell us that "Warehouse 13" is its "most successful series ever" in terms of audience, averaging 4.1 million viewers per episode. And viewers who actually like quality science fiction have been consistently disappointed. "Warehouse 13" returns for its second season on Tuesday (7 and 9 p.m, Syfy). And, after watching the first couple of episodes, there's nothing to indicate that my original review of the show no longer holds: There's no sense of wonder, nothing to spark the imagination — not even anything that's entertaining — in the premiere of "Warehouse 13." ...
At best, "Warehouse 13" is silly. At worst, it's stupid. If anything, the second season of this series is worse than the first. In the first five minutes of Tuesday's episodes, the manipulative script tries to make us believe that not one, not two, but three of the main characters are dead. It's not much of a spoiler alert to tell you that none of them dies. If you missed the first 12 episodes, "Warehouse 13" follows the adventures of two Secret Service agents — the dopey Pete Lattimer (Eddie McClintock) and the driven Myka Bering (Joanne Kelly) — who have an unusual assignment. They're assigned to Warehouse 13, a South Dakota facility stuffed with weird, otherworldly/supernatural/really weird artifacts. It's a lot like that warehouse where the Ark of the Covenant is stored at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark." With the advice and assistance of warehouser caretaker Artie Nielsen (Saul Rubinek), Pete and Myka go on various assignments to retrieve artifacts and battle bad guys.
(The cast also includes Allison Scagliotti as Claudia Donovan, a techno whiz who works for Artie; CCH Pounder as Mrs. Frederic, the boss; and Genelle Williams as Leena, the proprietor of the bed and breakfast where the agents live and possessor of psychic powers.) The premise of "Warehouse 13" is not necessarily a bad idea, but it's very poorly executed. Frankly, it's not so much exciting as just plain dumb. The scripts are weak. It's easy when all you have to do is haul out some sort of artifact to plug any plot holes. But the greatest flaw of "Warehouse 13" is the badly drawn characters. They're more like cartoon than real people, and their relationships are just plain awful. Pete and Myka have a love/hate relationship that's supposed to create sparks. Mostly it creates groans with lots of dialogue like this as the pair ride a zipline together: "Hey, if you're going to grab me like that, I need some sweet talk." says Pete. "Just shut up and fly!" says Myka.
It's not fair to blame all of Syfy's creative failings on one show. And "Warehouse 13" isn't the worst show on TV. Heck, it's not even the worst show on Syfy. But for anyone who loves science fiction, it's tremendously disappointing that a channel that's supposed to be devoted to the genre can't do any better than this lame show.At least it's not "Ghosthunters," "Destination Truth" or "Scare Tactics." WAREHOUSE BALONEY: It's not surprising that a "documentary" titled "Inside Secret Government Warehouses: Shocking Revelations" (Sunday, July 11, 7 and 9 p.m., Syfy) is a commercial for "Warehouse 13." "Award-winning journalist" Lester Holt (what journalist hasn't won an award?) damages his reputation by hosting this special, which purports to tell us about "alien body parts, powerful religious artifacts (and) UFO wreckage." It's pretty much what you'd expect, with the possible exception of a segment that debunks a video of an alleged alien. But there's a consistent logical fallacy that's simply insulting to the intelligence of viewers: "A" is true so unrelated "B" is true, too.
For example: The government hid the truth about medical experiments so it's hiding the evidence of aliens. This is two hours of completely wasted time. LEGO Minifigures The LEGO Batman Movie 71017 Zuru Bunch O Balloons (Colours Vary) LEGO Technic Bucket Wheel Excavator 42055 LEGO Creator Big Ben 10253 Building Sets & Blocks Vehicles Hobbies & Radio Controlled Sport, Outdoor & FurnitureDetectives are hoping surveillance video will help them crack a case where at least three thieves stole, well, crackers. A lot of them — $60,000 worth.On Thursday, the Broward Sheriff's Office released video of the cookie and cracker caper that happened at a Weston warehouse, 1700 N. Commerce Pkwy., at about 2 a.m. Nov. 24.Detectives say the thieves drove up in a dark-colored four-door car and two tractor trucks. They then attached two 48-foot trailers filled with Nabisco products to the trucks.The video captures a picture of one of the men before he covers the camera in trailer with a cloth.
The theft was not discovered until the following day.The trailers were found but the goods were gone.Anyone with information is asked to contact Detective Michael Kravecz at 954-389-2010 or Broward Crime Stoppers at 954-493-TIPS (8477).Sunrise, sunset: light into darkness, darkness into light. This perpetual cycling through archetypal phases of yin and yang, light slapstick and dour melodrama, is what lends Batman his unique mutability. His fellow heroes are a more stolid lot. They tend to pick a lane and stick with it.A veritable will o’ the wisp, that guy. For 78 years we nerds, devout students of his endless adventures, have witnessed him phasing through this dark/light cycle on the comics page. But when it comes to shaping the idea of Batman — how he exists in the public consciousness — it’s TV and movies that matter. And it’s possible to see that same cycle at work there, too, if you know where and how to look for it. Every turn of the cycle occurs for a reason, as a reaction to the phase that came before.
The ’60s Batman television series starring Adam West brought the Caped Crusader before the eyes of the wider world in a huge way. A huge, goofy way. The network and studio executives behind the series didn’t create the show out of any particular love for the character. In fact, they considered Batman — and superheroes, and comics themselves — to be disposable junk culture. They approached the creation of the series from the outside: producer Bill Dozier read a few Batman comics, and decided to reproduce them exactly — but with a tone that treated them like serious drama, like Ibsen’s A Doll’s House in tights. They made him a square, a cop in a cape, a bat-eared representation of the Establishment. He drank milk, lectured Robin about pedestrian safety, and would never think of double-parking the Batmobile. That tone, and the campy silliness it engendered, made the show a sensation, albeit a short-lived one. Everything about the show’s approach angered Batman’s hardcore fans, however, and their resentment would live on long after the series went off the air.
It was so strong, in fact, that it threw a long shadow from which Batman is only now beginning to emerge. Throughout the ’70s and ’80s the Batman of the comics existed as a spirited refutation of everything the ’60 TV series had stood for. This new Batman was a brooding loner (Robin had shipped off to college) who haunted the urban night. It was this Batman that director Tim Burton picked up on, in creating the 1989 Batman film starring Michael Keaton. His Dark Knight was truly dark, and somber, and goth — and also, with respect to to Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman — kinda kinky. When director Joel Schumacher took over the series, he attempted to pull Batman back into the light, although the light in question was neon pink. In homage to the 1960s series, he upped the campy archness, restored Robin to the mix and — in a move that has enshrined him in nerd infamy — slapped some nipples on the sculpted musculature of the Bat-suit. The reaction of the hardcore Bat-nerds was swift and savage.
They took to the nascent internet to demand that future films treat the character as seriously (read: as grimly and grittily) as the comics had been doing for years. After a brief fallow period, they got their wish. Director Christopher Nolan’s Bat-trilogy, beginning with Batman Begins, seemed like a mission statement for the complete refutation of Schumacher’s Batman — and by extension, of the ’60s series as well. By leaning into a rugged, gunmetal-gray vision that prized somber practicality over anything that smacked of stylization or — God forbid — flair, Nolan gave the hardcore fans the Batman they loved in the grim-and-gritty comics. This was a Batman who would be taken seriously (read: who was very, very serious). The fans proved fiercely protective: Several critics who dared to suggest that the somberness of Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises, in particular, smacked of bloated pretension were greeted with death threats. And so we come to The LEGO Batman Movie, which is just the latest attempt to bring the broody Batman out of his cave, into the light and sun of the upper world.
But this attempt is fundamentally different. The creators of the 1966 TV series brought condescension to Batman. Tim Burton brought a determination to remake the character in his own, emo- outsider image. Schumacher brought camp and areolae. Nolan brought a grayscale dourness. Every one of them came at the character from the outside, and imposed their vision on top of him. The screenwriters and director of The LEGO Batman Movie, on the other hand, come at him with 1. a very specific comedic sensibility and 2. a deep, deep, deep knowledge of the character’s history that, it turns out, is indistinguishable from love. Their Batman is something else, as well — something important: a complete tool. He’s a jerk who takes himself far too seriously, a brooding loner who insists, at every opportunity, upon his own consummate awesomeness. This is not merely a characterization — a “way in” to the character they’d teach in screenwriting classes. It is a pointed critique of the dour, sulky, militantly humorless Batman that has existed in the public consciousness for nearly 40 years.
It is also, more to the point, a slap in the face of the hardcore fanboy culture around him, a culture that insists only one “true” version of the character exists, and stubbornly clings to the conviction that they “own” Batman. Which is to say: It’s a reminder — a not particularly gentle one — that this stuff was always supposed to be fun. Consider this, as well: The plot of this movie involves Batman learning that being a dark, disaffected, brooding loner isn’t enough. He needs to make human connections, needs to let other people in. In a very real sense, it’s about Batman transitioning from an arrested adolescence as a sulky goth, brooding alone in his room, into an adulthood that requires him to join society. Which is probably why, despite the movie’s deep, abiding and aggressive silliness, The LEGO Batman Movie stands as the most emotionally mature Batman film yet made. It’s also one that might — that just might — manage to end the eternal cycle of light/dark Batman, once and for all.