Back from not-quite-summer staycation

The last eleven days haven't been nearly as relaxing as I would have liked -- it's hard to keep the blood pressure down when your team is facing off against the Detroit Red Wings in the Western Conference Finals. My staycation ended Sunday in the United Center, where the Blackhawks just plain stunk up the joint in Game 4. (Brian Campbell? You and me, we are freakin' done professionally, man.)

It's also hard to breathe when you stand 5'9'' and weigh 216 pounds, and decide to try out your first new pair of Rollerblades in five years. I thought my maiden voyage on the Poplar Creek bike trail last Tuesday was going to end with me on a stretcher; I made it about a mile-and-a-half before the nausea set in.

But those epic failures don't come close to what happened at my favorite watering hole Friday night. I was holding court with two very nice, very funny, very pretty young women for a couple hours, and, as they hugged me good-night, I forgot the most crucial part of such a situation -- asking for a phone number. This omission was still the topic of discussion among the bartenders two nights later. (An interjection from Napoleon Dynamite would be appropriate here: "IDIOT!")

In past years, it would have been considered a social failure of epic proportions to have paid to see the new "Star Trek" movie three times in six days, but apparently J.J. Abrams has made it cool to drool over Kirk and Co. again. When I saw it with my sisters a few nights ago, one of them turned to me and said, "I think I'm in love with Spock." Me too -- albeit for totally different reasons. (Or are they?)

One of those trips into the Final Frontier was at the AMC South Barrington's new IMAX screen, which is not a 70-foot-tall behemoth like you get at Navy Pier, Regal Lincolnshire 20, or Great America's Pictorium. A new breed of IMAX screens -- called "The IMAX Experience" -- has ruffled other bloggers' feathers because it would appear to be a rip-off. If the screen isn't 70 feet tall, then what am I paying $14 for?

Well, in the case of South Barrington's IMAX screen, you're paying those four extra bucks for a screen that reaches from the floor to the ceiling (I'm guessing about 30 feet), the brightest, clearest digital projection I've ever seen, and sound that will absolutely blow you away. I went in expecting to feel ripped off, but ended up having a great experience -- that opening sequence was even more stirring and spectacular.

If the giant screen is what attracts you to IMAX presentations, then make sure you're going to a true IMAX theater. Those would be the Randall 15, the Lincolnshire 20, and the Navy Pier IMAX.

If teeth-rattling sound impresses you more, then don't hesitate to shell out the extra cash at the Cinemark at Seven Bridges or the aforementioned AMC South Barrington.

(But if you live near Rosemont, you can see just about every movie in wide release digitally projected at the Muvico 18, still my choice as the best movie theater in the suburbs.)

Why did I see "Star Trek" three times last week? Because I certainly wasn't gonna see "Angels & Demons" or "Terminator Salvation" a second time. The former is admittedly less ludicrous than its source material, but still chock full of laughable dialogue and plot twists that beg credulity. I do admit that it's a film that will be far better on the big screen than at home, so you can drink in the gorgeous shots of Rome and Vatican City, digitally created or otherwise. There's also a dizzying shot right at the top of the film that dives into the center of the hadron collider at CERN, and a sequence involving a parachute that really has to be seen to be believed. (I'm not sure if I mean that in a good way or not.)

But the new "Terminator" film ... ugh. What a mess. It's no wonder Christian Bale had that on-set meltdown; his entire role consists of him screaming at people. He reportedly brought in "Dark Knight" co-writer Jonathan Nolan to punch up his part, but he still takes a backseat to Aussie actor Sam Worthington, whose mysteriously resurrected death row inmate Marcus Wright is the main character. In a franchise that gave us Sarah Connor: Total Bad-Ass, "Terminator Salvation" has nary a strong female character. Bryce Dallas Howard might not even get ten lines of dialogue, and Moon Bloodgood (apparently, her real name) falls in love with Marcus five seconds after meeting him because he saves her from being gang-raped. Sarah Connor certainly didn't need anyone to save her. I could also go on and on about how Skynet, the most advanced piece of artificial intelligence imaginable, is actually dumber than a pile of rocks, but I'll spare you the rant.

(Or not: How come every inch of Skynet City or whatever the hell it is isn't monitored by some kind of security system? And why would a humanoid Terminator be more effective than the cool flying hunter-killers and motorcycle dudes we see early in the film?)

But fear not, movie fans, because this Friday brings two films that are almost guaranteed to delight. I haven't seen "Up," Pixar's latest argument for giving the best picture Oscar to animated films, but I have seen Sam Raimi's "Drag Me To Hell." I can't tell you too much about it just yet -- just that horror fans won't be disappointed.

I'll also say that, in its own twisted way, "Drag Me To Hell" is a great date movie. Too bad I didn't get that phone number.

Oh man, is this movie awesome.