Quantum of Solace (2008), a.k.a. Daniel Craig's second outing as 007, is a prime object lesson in conspicuous consumption. I say this not because the film is overstuffed with multi-million-dollar action sequences, but because director Marc Forster took some of the best writers, actors, and, particularly, stunt teams in the world today, and then apparently did his darndest to make their work dull, lacklustre, and underwhelming. There's a perverse sort of impressiveness here.
Written by the Casino Royale team and starring the magnificent Daniel Craig, Judy Dench, and Mathieu Amalric (Munich), Quantum of Solace picks up where Casino Royale left off, in this case with Bond's trunk full of the man he kneecapped at the end of that last film. A car chase, interrogation, and attempt on M's life result in the discovery of a rogue intelligence faction that calls themselves Quantum, and if they aren't evil, they're at the very least in conflict with the goals of MI-6. This film also sees Bond in full, soul-dead vengeance mode, and a combination of circumstances and design connect him with a South American intelligence agent named Camille, whose own quest for vengeance neatly overlaps Bond's. Seeing an opportunity to serve Britain and take revenge in one fell swoop, Bond offers to help Camille murder the general who murdered her family, which takes Bond one step closer to Quantum in the guise of French private natural resources magnate Dominic Greene (Amalric).
Sound complicated? If in a negative fashion, that's only because I'm a poor summarizer. In truth, the complexity of this story was a thing of beauty, marred and truncated by a bizarre, unwieldy, and boring action-to-drama ration. The story of Quantum of Solace is a more interesting story than that of Casino Royale, with interesting and mature commentaries on loyalty and vengeance. I hate revenge films as a general rule, not because they're angry but because of all the genre's built-in lies. Quantum of Solace sees Bond admitting/asserting that the idea that he "did it for Vesper" is a load of bull that you'd have to be an idiot to believe - or, as he puts it in the film, "the dead don't care about vengeance." On the topic of loyalty, the film is full of subtle complexities, forging in particular an odd love triangle between Bond, M, and Britain. Casino Royale players Felix and Mathis are also on-screen here, which muddies things further. Long story short, the story and script are fantastic, and I'd love to see the properly developed version.
But, as I implied above, that's unlikely. How Marc Forster (Finding Neverland, Stranger than Fiction) got handed the reigns to this picture is a mystery - the man has no experience with action, and it shows. Case in point, the opening car chase. The Bond stunt team is perhaps the best in the world today, yet instead of showcasing their work and filming, you know, the car chase they staged, the scene consists of alternating shots of the gear shift, the cool dashboard panel, and Daniel Craig's face, and feels for all the world like a car ad. Did I mention it's as dull as it is insulting to the stunt team? All the action is like that, and it kills the film. This is on top of the fact that Forster not only misused these guys, but put in too much action, at least in ratio to dialogue and exposition. And too much action is what? Yes! Boring! Especially when it's so poorly filmed and edited! Managing to make this team's work boring suggests a level of incompetence akin to Joel Schumacher somehow making Kiefer Sutherland - as a the leader of a teenage vampire biker gang, to boot, and fresh off one very badass turn in Stand By Me - completely non-threatening in The Lost Boys.
On the plus side, I've been defending the title of this film ever since it was revealed and the entertainment media and blogosphere became clogged with inane articles to the effect of "I don't get the title, so it's stupid!" Not having seen the film, my response was, "I'm pretty sure this is a brilliant name for a revenge film, and if you don't know what a quantum is, google it, you lazy such-and-such." Having seen the film, I stand by that response, revising "pretty sure" to "100%" sure. The quantum of solace is indeed what one finds in acts of vengeance. It's even highlighted in the opening titles, which stand out from those of every other Bond film by being notably devoid of sex. A girl is formed out of sand about halfway through, and then cloned so that Bond appears to be surrounded by women, but what with there being only one actual woman, and her being a sand sculpture, i.e. passing and easily destroyed, it's a genius way to emphasize what a lonely man 007 is. The only downside to the title is that it appears to be a contractual obligation to work a literal reference into the name of each Bond film (Dr. No! Licence to Kill! Goldeneye!). There doesn't appear to be any necessary reason for the villainous counter-agency to be named Quantum, and this adds a corny element to an otherwise beautiful turn of phrase.
Quantum of Solace had everything it needed to surpass Casino Royale - except, that is, a competent director. Better luck next time, folks.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Maurice Jarre: 1924-2009
Though you may never have heard of him, I sincerely hope you've been exposed to his work. Maurice Jarre was the dictionary definition of a maestro - and, by both anecdotal evidence and his enthusiasm for electronic music (see: The Year of Living Dangerously), not even a snobby artist. Though if any contemporary musician ever earned the right to be snobby, it was him.
Click to watch the maestro conducting the Royal Philharmonic through the overture from Lawrence of Arabia, intercut with clips from the film and culminating with that fascinating, magical panning shot of Lawrence's feet as he strides across the top of a train. The concert VHS this is from is somewhere between fifteen and twenty years old, so the quality isn't amazing but the sound is just fine. The clip posted below features the main titles, and continues on to the opening scene. If that doesn't make you want to go watch the picture - or at least sit back for a minute and ponder Jarre's genius - I don't know what will.
Click to watch the maestro conducting the Royal Philharmonic through the overture from Lawrence of Arabia, intercut with clips from the film and culminating with that fascinating, magical panning shot of Lawrence's feet as he strides across the top of a train. The concert VHS this is from is somewhere between fifteen and twenty years old, so the quality isn't amazing but the sound is just fine. The clip posted below features the main titles, and continues on to the opening scene. If that doesn't make you want to go watch the picture - or at least sit back for a minute and ponder Jarre's genius - I don't know what will.
Monday, March 30, 2009
No Need to Be Hasty: Fable II (Full Review)
I will, perhaps, in the future be revising my conceit of posting "first impressions" of video games. In the case of Fable II, what started out as an occasionally distasteful but largely entertaining experience (see related post below) turned out to just be, well, distasteful. So distasteful that I have no desire for a second play.
The discovery of how brainlessly cynical the completed main quest is did me in. It's obvious from the beginning of the "The Hero of Strength" quest that Theresa has transformed over the centuries into someone corrupt and more than a little unhinged - her anger at the discovery that the Hero of Strength is a monk (and therefore cannot possibly be motivated to do what Heroes need to do?), and determination to corrupt Hammer into a creature of violence and vengeance in order to get the job done, is pretty disturbing and scary. Who wants to guess that Theresa's the one who orchestrated the sudden murder of Hammer's dad? Either way, Theresa is in full Kreia-from-Knights of the Old Republic II mode here; that is to say, perverted evil hag mode. The key difference, however, in KotoR II, is that you are not ultimately beholden to Kreia's will for things if you don't choose to be. Fable II talks a lot about choices, but when it comes down to the ones that really matter, you are for the most part denied the power to choose.
And then there's the cynicism taken to an extend that's just plain stupid. The game talks about how the original Hero's Guild was destroyed because of self-absorbed, corrupt Heroes who took no action and were subesquently lynched by the people. The final Hero you must recover before endgame is Reaver, a pirate king legendary for his near-supernatural pistol skills. Lionhead Studios at least gets points here for pirates not being cool: Reaver is a thoroughly corrupt, perverse, narcissistic, childish, evil individual. Amongst other things, if you wait around during his dialogue you will see him murder three innocents for the most petty reasons imaginable. He rules the port town of Bloodstone, where Oakvale used to be, on a foundation of despotism and terror. And you must take him with you to defeat the Main Evil, and after that's done you cannot even challenge him to a duel - in other words, you can't actually pursue evil with the intent of eliminating it, only the evil the game insists is untenable (the main villain, Lucien). With Reaver, the game developers are running with a cynicism that defies all logic: the idea that a "hero" who's evil but talented is better than no "hero" at all. They're also badly misusing the Neiztchean concept of the rules not applying to the special people. Has no one at Lionhead ever seen Rope? To muddle the waters further, the end of the game sees the Heros saying, "well, glad I don't have to help people any more, time to piss off!" as Theresa happily disbands them instead of rebuilding the guild...so that she can take over Lucien's old residence in the Tattered Spire. Well, now we know what Fable III will be about!
And Fable II's version of you not having a boss fight? A nonsensical, boring, failed shadow of Oblivion's, and a very poor and lazy argument for why the world needs someone like Reaver.
There's no replay value here; the game offers me nothing to work towards as a goal (or enjoy working towards), and I can't stomach it anyway. I'm sorry I gave it an initial thumbs-up, and may very well delete that post soon.
The discovery of how brainlessly cynical the completed main quest is did me in. It's obvious from the beginning of the "The Hero of Strength" quest that Theresa has transformed over the centuries into someone corrupt and more than a little unhinged - her anger at the discovery that the Hero of Strength is a monk (and therefore cannot possibly be motivated to do what Heroes need to do?), and determination to corrupt Hammer into a creature of violence and vengeance in order to get the job done, is pretty disturbing and scary. Who wants to guess that Theresa's the one who orchestrated the sudden murder of Hammer's dad? Either way, Theresa is in full Kreia-from-Knights of the Old Republic II mode here; that is to say, perverted evil hag mode. The key difference, however, in KotoR II, is that you are not ultimately beholden to Kreia's will for things if you don't choose to be. Fable II talks a lot about choices, but when it comes down to the ones that really matter, you are for the most part denied the power to choose.
And then there's the cynicism taken to an extend that's just plain stupid. The game talks about how the original Hero's Guild was destroyed because of self-absorbed, corrupt Heroes who took no action and were subesquently lynched by the people. The final Hero you must recover before endgame is Reaver, a pirate king legendary for his near-supernatural pistol skills. Lionhead Studios at least gets points here for pirates not being cool: Reaver is a thoroughly corrupt, perverse, narcissistic, childish, evil individual. Amongst other things, if you wait around during his dialogue you will see him murder three innocents for the most petty reasons imaginable. He rules the port town of Bloodstone, where Oakvale used to be, on a foundation of despotism and terror. And you must take him with you to defeat the Main Evil, and after that's done you cannot even challenge him to a duel - in other words, you can't actually pursue evil with the intent of eliminating it, only the evil the game insists is untenable (the main villain, Lucien). With Reaver, the game developers are running with a cynicism that defies all logic: the idea that a "hero" who's evil but talented is better than no "hero" at all. They're also badly misusing the Neiztchean concept of the rules not applying to the special people. Has no one at Lionhead ever seen Rope? To muddle the waters further, the end of the game sees the Heros saying, "well, glad I don't have to help people any more, time to piss off!" as Theresa happily disbands them instead of rebuilding the guild...so that she can take over Lucien's old residence in the Tattered Spire. Well, now we know what Fable III will be about!
And Fable II's version of you not having a boss fight? A nonsensical, boring, failed shadow of Oblivion's, and a very poor and lazy argument for why the world needs someone like Reaver.
There's no replay value here; the game offers me nothing to work towards as a goal (or enjoy working towards), and I can't stomach it anyway. I'm sorry I gave it an initial thumbs-up, and may very well delete that post soon.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
First Impressions: BioShock
Okay, I like a good first-person shooter (FPS). And no, I'm not some ultra-violent creep who carries concealed weapons and leaves disturbing anonymous message board posts about how I'm going to kill you all in your sleep. I personally prefer the "human versus things that aren't" shooters; I can't bring myself to play things like Call of Duty or even FarCry, and even though Half-Life 2 featured zombies etc., it was too gross for my liking. I'm a Halo kind of girl. We can debate the ridiculousness of giving FPS games all the credit for violent teenage actions another time; today, I want to talk about BioShock!
I've been looking forward to this game ever since Corey told me about System Shock II, the old PC game BioShock spawns from - or, as I like to call it based on Corey's stories, the Crazy Monkey Game. When the trailers, artwork, and screen shots first became available online, I really started looking forward to it. For one thing, I'm obsessed with the ocean, and BioShock takes place in an underwater dystopia; for another, it was also the most beautiful game I'd ever seen. On top of that, I appreciate the thrill of a high-quality scare, and BioShock sure looked creepy as all else. Been wanting to buy it, been waiting for the price to go down, got loaned it by Tim and Scott, and here we are!
Well, I've played about fourty minutes - the introduction plus - and BioShock is meeting all my expectations and then some. Set in 1960, the game opens in a first-person view (and stays that way) as your commercial passenger flight goes down over the ocean. First Bit of Great: when you get dumped in the ocean, it's no cut scene between water and finding land - start swimming! 'Land' in this case is the underwater city of Rapture, created in the '50s by a man named Andrew Ryan as a place where artists, scientists, and inventors could work unrestricted by such constraints as government regulation, bioethics, morality, all those pesky constructs of The Man. Sounds like a great place, what could possibly go wrong?
Ha...Ha...Ha!
If I ever encounter a better-looking game than BioShock, I'll eat my hat (so long as my hat is made of nachos, with salsa in the middle). The art-deco city and the view out its windows are...well...just Google Image Search "Bioshock Rapture City", you'll see what I mean. It's the kind of game that makes you tempted to splurge on a better TV. Even poorly lit and half-ruined, it's incredible, and the period jazz soundtrack does a world of good. This, unfortunately, can be a downside, as I want time to mosey around soaking in the sights...yeah, there's not a lot of that happening in a horror FPS, unless you want to clear all the areas and then spend a while backtracking to you can sightsee. And I do. :D A small price to pay for beauty. From a playing perspective, the controls are pretty intuitive, the world interaction is swell, and giving your bioengineered capabilities finite usage makes for an interesting strategic touch. Your radio-only (so far) helper, Atlas, is a good actor, too, and if you miss any of his messages due to fighting or other distraction, you can replay them at any time. You may find it tough to find the right difficulty, though - I'm playing on medium, described as for "veteran gamers", and so far it's not quite a challenge, though this will hopefully increase as the game progresses. I should mention here than the equivalent Halo difficulty ("heroic"), though doable, is a challenge for me. Corey tried the highest difficulty, and said it was verging on too hard to be enjoyable - and this is someone who typically doesn't have issues with whatever the hardest setting of a shooter is. But there's the rub - for someone like that, 'medium' is far too easy, and though one could play easier the first time through and then step up after they're familiar with the game, BioShock may turn out to be too disturbing to have replay value. A dilemma, indeed!
And did I mention: this game is creepy as all else? BioShock is a horror on the scale of films like Alien or The Thing. In other words, other emotional and adrenaline-related issues apply, on top of the ones associated with a more relaxing shooter like Halo. The first time I played that game, my body responded to all the adrenaline being released while not engaged in physical activity by creating a week's worth of nightmares, mainly involving being out of ammo, that eventually morphed into happy dreams to cruising around with a Warthog full of Marines, eliminating Covenant troops with ease. Fourty minutes of BioShock tempered by a hasty retreat to Fable II as I realised I needed something I could sleep on didn't spawn any nighttime visits, but I'm not looking forward to whatever will accompany more intensive gameplay. That doesn't mean I won't continue playing. Does that make me a masochist?
In a nutshell: Gorgeous. Scary. Fun. If you have the stomach for a high-quality video game scare, I don't see it getting much better than this. More to come when I actually pass the game.
I've been looking forward to this game ever since Corey told me about System Shock II, the old PC game BioShock spawns from - or, as I like to call it based on Corey's stories, the Crazy Monkey Game. When the trailers, artwork, and screen shots first became available online, I really started looking forward to it. For one thing, I'm obsessed with the ocean, and BioShock takes place in an underwater dystopia; for another, it was also the most beautiful game I'd ever seen. On top of that, I appreciate the thrill of a high-quality scare, and BioShock sure looked creepy as all else. Been wanting to buy it, been waiting for the price to go down, got loaned it by Tim and Scott, and here we are!
Well, I've played about fourty minutes - the introduction plus - and BioShock is meeting all my expectations and then some. Set in 1960, the game opens in a first-person view (and stays that way) as your commercial passenger flight goes down over the ocean. First Bit of Great: when you get dumped in the ocean, it's no cut scene between water and finding land - start swimming! 'Land' in this case is the underwater city of Rapture, created in the '50s by a man named Andrew Ryan as a place where artists, scientists, and inventors could work unrestricted by such constraints as government regulation, bioethics, morality, all those pesky constructs of The Man. Sounds like a great place, what could possibly go wrong?
Ha...Ha...Ha!
If I ever encounter a better-looking game than BioShock, I'll eat my hat (so long as my hat is made of nachos, with salsa in the middle). The art-deco city and the view out its windows are...well...just Google Image Search "Bioshock Rapture City", you'll see what I mean. It's the kind of game that makes you tempted to splurge on a better TV. Even poorly lit and half-ruined, it's incredible, and the period jazz soundtrack does a world of good. This, unfortunately, can be a downside, as I want time to mosey around soaking in the sights...yeah, there's not a lot of that happening in a horror FPS, unless you want to clear all the areas and then spend a while backtracking to you can sightsee. And I do. :D A small price to pay for beauty. From a playing perspective, the controls are pretty intuitive, the world interaction is swell, and giving your bioengineered capabilities finite usage makes for an interesting strategic touch. Your radio-only (so far) helper, Atlas, is a good actor, too, and if you miss any of his messages due to fighting or other distraction, you can replay them at any time. You may find it tough to find the right difficulty, though - I'm playing on medium, described as for "veteran gamers", and so far it's not quite a challenge, though this will hopefully increase as the game progresses. I should mention here than the equivalent Halo difficulty ("heroic"), though doable, is a challenge for me. Corey tried the highest difficulty, and said it was verging on too hard to be enjoyable - and this is someone who typically doesn't have issues with whatever the hardest setting of a shooter is. But there's the rub - for someone like that, 'medium' is far too easy, and though one could play easier the first time through and then step up after they're familiar with the game, BioShock may turn out to be too disturbing to have replay value. A dilemma, indeed!
And did I mention: this game is creepy as all else? BioShock is a horror on the scale of films like Alien or The Thing. In other words, other emotional and adrenaline-related issues apply, on top of the ones associated with a more relaxing shooter like Halo. The first time I played that game, my body responded to all the adrenaline being released while not engaged in physical activity by creating a week's worth of nightmares, mainly involving being out of ammo, that eventually morphed into happy dreams to cruising around with a Warthog full of Marines, eliminating Covenant troops with ease. Fourty minutes of BioShock tempered by a hasty retreat to Fable II as I realised I needed something I could sleep on didn't spawn any nighttime visits, but I'm not looking forward to whatever will accompany more intensive gameplay. That doesn't mean I won't continue playing. Does that make me a masochist?
In a nutshell: Gorgeous. Scary. Fun. If you have the stomach for a high-quality video game scare, I don't see it getting much better than this. More to come when I actually pass the game.
My Other Boat Is A Car: Small Favor
Out of all the things to enjoy about it, the single most enjoyable aspect of Jim Butcher's supernatural P.I. noir series The Dresden Files has to be the author's consistency. I don't just mean consistency of character, or tone, or things like that; what I mean is, I've just concluded the ninth and most recent book, and it was excellent. So was the eighth, and the seventh, and... His writing in and of itself hasn't necessarily improved, but my point is that every book in this series is good. No mediocre missteps, no "what the **** were you thinking, Butcher?", no "the last book was waaaaay better!". You pick up a Dresden Files book, and you know you're going to get something just as quality and well-written and entertaining and thoughtful as the last time you picked up such a tome. After nine volumes, that's impressive.
In other words, Small Favor is a worthy addition to the story of Harry Dresden, this one featuring Queen Mab of the Winter Fae calling in the second of three favors Harry has been bound to grant her. Throw our lovable resident legitimate businessman Gentleman Johnnie Marcone into the mix, along with the funniest freaky fairy-tale villains yet - yes, even better than the flaming-poop flying monkeys - and you've got one good tale. In other news, Harry finally finds someone to give the Holy Sword whose care he's been charged with since Death Masks - let's just say, he didn't offer it to who you thought he would. Small Favor also features the return of Sanya, as well as Kincaid and Ivy seen together again, and a fantastic appearance by Toot-Toot. Thomas is fighting at Harry's side once more, Molly's apprenticeship is continuing nicely, and Harry's respective friendships with Michael and Charity continue to evolve. The author's comedic skills haven't flagged either - Harry's sit-down with Bob the Skull early in the book had me making a scene of myself on the bus in ways I haven't since I used to listen to tapes of the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio play whilst in transit. Yep, nothing to dislike here. As well, the fights which could be more accurately called battles ...did I mention the Denariians are back, and travelling in even larger packs than they did in Death Masks? The fights are quality, hair-raising, and the standoff at the Shadd Aquarium is particularly notable.
I look forward to having a hundred bucks or so to drop on the whole series one day, I do!
In other words, Small Favor is a worthy addition to the story of Harry Dresden, this one featuring Queen Mab of the Winter Fae calling in the second of three favors Harry has been bound to grant her. Throw our lovable resident legitimate businessman Gentleman Johnnie Marcone into the mix, along with the funniest freaky fairy-tale villains yet - yes, even better than the flaming-poop flying monkeys - and you've got one good tale. In other news, Harry finally finds someone to give the Holy Sword whose care he's been charged with since Death Masks - let's just say, he didn't offer it to who you thought he would. Small Favor also features the return of Sanya, as well as Kincaid and Ivy seen together again, and a fantastic appearance by Toot-Toot. Thomas is fighting at Harry's side once more, Molly's apprenticeship is continuing nicely, and Harry's respective friendships with Michael and Charity continue to evolve. The author's comedic skills haven't flagged either - Harry's sit-down with Bob the Skull early in the book had me making a scene of myself on the bus in ways I haven't since I used to listen to tapes of the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio play whilst in transit. Yep, nothing to dislike here. As well, the fights which could be more accurately called battles ...did I mention the Denariians are back, and travelling in even larger packs than they did in Death Masks? The fights are quality, hair-raising, and the standoff at the Shadd Aquarium is particularly notable.
I look forward to having a hundred bucks or so to drop on the whole series one day, I do!
If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, The Alien Will Get Jealous
There's nothing wrong with an unnecessary sequel. Think of Back to the Future Part III, Die Hard 3, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull - For a Few Dollars More may even fall into this category. All good films, all highly entertaining.
Ah, there's the rub: all those unnecessary sequels are also good films. Sequels are held to higher standards than other films - if the predecessor was good, the sequel had better be superior! And, when that sequel has nothing pressing to add to the series narrative, well...you'd really best put on a good show.
Alien 3 is an early directorial effort from David Fincher (Se7en, Zodiac) that picks up immediately where James Cameron's Aliens left off (which itself picks up immediately where Ridley Scott's Alien left off...it's a good pattern here). Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) wakes up on a barren, nasty, all-male penal colony to discover that Newt and Coropal Hicks have died or been killed in hypsersleep, and that their ship has, obviously, crashed. Suspecting that their deaths were not accidental, she insists on an autopsy that seems to deny her fears, but refuses to share the cause of her paranoia until an alien shows itself. Trapped on-planet with no means of defending themselves - no weapons in a prison, after all - Ripley and the inmates must survive until the Company ship sent to pick her up arrives.
There are certainly strong points to Alien 3, for example, Sigourney Weaver. A fantastic actress, and so gorgeous she's still gorgeous with a shaved head, Ripley was the last female action hero to simply be both a female, and an action hero. She was so special she could kick ass and take names without the whore-tacular clothing, smug bitchiness, and cheap sassy dialogue that current female "action heros" draw their power from. She was a woman in a bad situation who made do, and made do really, really well, and nothing about her shaved head and shapeless prison clothes in Alien 3 made her less womanly while doing it. It's truly sad what an anomaly Ripley and the original Sarah Connor were - seems not enough filmmakers were interested in that kind of thing.
Hey, what a tangent! In other strong points, the concept of no weapons is nicely terrifying, there is acting support from a small army of familiar British faces (and Irishman Pete Posthlewaite), and director Fincher does a nice job of making blatantly obvious lead-ins to certain doom scary, relying on skillful set-up rather than sudden shock to do the trick. There's also some interesting theological and Christological elements akin to Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Actually, there are a lot of elements akin to Terminator 2, and most of them only hurt this film by raising comparisons to that superior one.
Overall, though...well, I'd never watch it again the way I've happily watched and re-watched the first two contributions to the Alien franchise. Between unimpressive dialogue, uneven pacing, too much hit-and-miss in its theological commentary, and far too many similarities to another sequel that was released the year before and happened to be fantastic (T2), Alien 3 just doesn't have the quality required to justify its unnecessary addition to the series. Killing off the only engaging secondary character twenty minutes in probably wasn't the best idea. I understand the idea of leaving Ripley alone for the film, but leaving Hicks alive or re-building Bishop would have been nice, for interest's sake. The film drags quite a bit, seems too long most of the time, and feels like it wants to have both unrelenting and tension tension-and-release, and so succeeds at neither. The climax doesn't help things any by featuring a main character's self-sacrifice in a metal foundry...hey, wasn't that the ending of Judgment Day? And didn't that film do it way better? Wasn't Judgment Day directed by Aliens man James Cameron? Is this a coincidence? Should only James Cameron be permitted to direct sci-fi sequels, having proven his track record so nicely? Discuss.
Really, all Alien 3 made me want to do was sit down with something salty and the director's cut of Aliens. Hey, I'm going to the library tomorrow! I have just reserved a copy on-line. I am winner.
Ah, there's the rub: all those unnecessary sequels are also good films. Sequels are held to higher standards than other films - if the predecessor was good, the sequel had better be superior! And, when that sequel has nothing pressing to add to the series narrative, well...you'd really best put on a good show.
Alien 3 is an early directorial effort from David Fincher (Se7en, Zodiac) that picks up immediately where James Cameron's Aliens left off (which itself picks up immediately where Ridley Scott's Alien left off...it's a good pattern here). Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) wakes up on a barren, nasty, all-male penal colony to discover that Newt and Coropal Hicks have died or been killed in hypsersleep, and that their ship has, obviously, crashed. Suspecting that their deaths were not accidental, she insists on an autopsy that seems to deny her fears, but refuses to share the cause of her paranoia until an alien shows itself. Trapped on-planet with no means of defending themselves - no weapons in a prison, after all - Ripley and the inmates must survive until the Company ship sent to pick her up arrives.
There are certainly strong points to Alien 3, for example, Sigourney Weaver. A fantastic actress, and so gorgeous she's still gorgeous with a shaved head, Ripley was the last female action hero to simply be both a female, and an action hero. She was so special she could kick ass and take names without the whore-tacular clothing, smug bitchiness, and cheap sassy dialogue that current female "action heros" draw their power from. She was a woman in a bad situation who made do, and made do really, really well, and nothing about her shaved head and shapeless prison clothes in Alien 3 made her less womanly while doing it. It's truly sad what an anomaly Ripley and the original Sarah Connor were - seems not enough filmmakers were interested in that kind of thing.
Hey, what a tangent! In other strong points, the concept of no weapons is nicely terrifying, there is acting support from a small army of familiar British faces (and Irishman Pete Posthlewaite), and director Fincher does a nice job of making blatantly obvious lead-ins to certain doom scary, relying on skillful set-up rather than sudden shock to do the trick. There's also some interesting theological and Christological elements akin to Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Actually, there are a lot of elements akin to Terminator 2, and most of them only hurt this film by raising comparisons to that superior one.
Overall, though...well, I'd never watch it again the way I've happily watched and re-watched the first two contributions to the Alien franchise. Between unimpressive dialogue, uneven pacing, too much hit-and-miss in its theological commentary, and far too many similarities to another sequel that was released the year before and happened to be fantastic (T2), Alien 3 just doesn't have the quality required to justify its unnecessary addition to the series. Killing off the only engaging secondary character twenty minutes in probably wasn't the best idea. I understand the idea of leaving Ripley alone for the film, but leaving Hicks alive or re-building Bishop would have been nice, for interest's sake. The film drags quite a bit, seems too long most of the time, and feels like it wants to have both unrelenting and tension tension-and-release, and so succeeds at neither. The climax doesn't help things any by featuring a main character's self-sacrifice in a metal foundry...hey, wasn't that the ending of Judgment Day? And didn't that film do it way better? Wasn't Judgment Day directed by Aliens man James Cameron? Is this a coincidence? Should only James Cameron be permitted to direct sci-fi sequels, having proven his track record so nicely? Discuss.
Really, all Alien 3 made me want to do was sit down with something salty and the director's cut of Aliens. Hey, I'm going to the library tomorrow! I have just reserved a copy on-line. I am winner.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
First Impressions: Fable II
By the time I played the original Fable, it was old enough that the platinum Lost Chapters edition was in the cheap bin. I make note of this because what it means is that, prior to this event, I'd never heard of Fable, and so had no pre-play taint from the controversy/general disappointment surrounding how it fell very short of what creator/lead designer Peter Molyneux had trumpeted it to be. Granted, it didn't take very long to discover on my own that was an excercise in unfulfilled potential of epic proportions; however, it also didn't take very long to discover that it was lots and lots of fun. Come to think of it, it may have been the first game I played on Xbox, and what set me on the path of the serious gamer. Fluffy, very simple to play, and having a gorgeous soundtrack, we certainly own games better than Fable, but I don't believe we own one that's more entertaining.
So, the big question was, would Fable II deliver on the promises its predecessor welched on? The answer is...not too much. The big deal (both intended and actual) with Fable was the "your choices affect the world" idea taken to heights that surpassed mere main quest save-the-world stuff - ie., villagers would flock to you or run in fear, shop prices would reflect your renown and good/evilness, your appearance would alter depending on your morality, etc. Fable II increases this, with clothing and hairstyles affecting your attractiveness, scariness, and purity, and by allowing you to do things like purchase any home or shop in the game and either jack up or reduce prices. They've also added things like the options for casual in-game sex, which can earn you an STD if you're not careful (I know this from the manual, not personal experience), and you can also produce children. The most entertaining new "slice of life" aspect are the jobs - you can get work as a smith, woodcutter, or bartender, and the minigames get pretty tough as your level of work increases, but it's still a great way to make easy money during the nights, and oddly addictive in a pleasant way.
As far as the gameplay... Well, I've always seen the Fable series as a bridge between casual and serious gamers. The combat is incredibly easy, as are the puzzles, and of course there's the whole The Sims thing going on, but it's still an RPG, and hey, maybe if you liked Fable, you'll like, I don't know, Knights of the Old Republic, and see that serious games are fun after all? Unfortunately, Fable II seems a bit too tailored to casual gamers, because that's the only rationale I can think of for the unusual, illogical, and downright bizarre button assignments. Things like, you press different buttons to take out and put away your weapons, and - most awful and irritating - 'B' is not your menu. 'B' activates your magic, and if you happen to have an aggressive spell selected and are in the middle of town and don't want a reputation for scaring and killing villagers, well, let's just say there's lots of reloading involved. This is, for Corey and I, the single difficult thing about Fable II: training ourselves that 'B' is Not. The. Menu. Speaking of reloading, another bizarre and irritating decision is that you cannot load a game from the Save Menu - you need to quit the game to the main menu in order to load or reload. It almost seems like the game was developed by, instead of hiring gamers as testers and sounding board, Lionhead Studios went looking for people whose game experience consists of WiiFit and Brain Academy and asked them, which buttons make the most sense to you? And this is what they said. As well, you don't appear to be able to choose your hotkeys - at least, we haven't figured it out yet, and the manual is silent on the matter. Then there are the baffling story-related decisions, like revealing the identity of your mysterious mentor from the very beginning of the game - your first quest objective post-childhood is "Follow Theresa". Okay, if you haven't played Fable, this won't mean very much, but if you have, it's a bit disappointing.
Still, Fable II is even more entertaining than its predecessor. A word of warning, though: although it's quite humorous, it's not always lighthearted. The Fable series is a British production - I know, how often do you play an RPG that isn't American, Canadian, or Japanese? - and as such is infused with a very British sense of humour. This means that the jokes are ridiculous, dry, morbid, rude, cruel, raunchy, depressing, or any combination of the above. That's raunchy in the original sense, not in the weird habit that's popped up in suburbia these last few years of kids saying "raunchy" in place of "gross". If your only British media experience is Monty Python's Flying Circus, this is a pretty good gauge of Fable's style of humour. And if you don't care for that show, this game will probably be little more than childish, nonsensical, and irritating.
All this is also not to say that Fable II isn't worth playing. It's certainly not worth the current new copy rate of $59.99 (Can.), but it's a good borrow or cheap bin purchase. It's great fun having an invincible doggie companion who sniffs out treasure and dig spots (and goes for the throat of any enemies you knock down without killing), the addition of rifles and pistols is highly entertaining, and there's nothing wrong with spending an hour dyeing and trying on your outfits (nothing). I also get a lot of private enjoyment over the fact that your character is raised by gypsies, and any time I go home to visit I hear the Italian Wolfram & Hart lady from Angel Season 5 shouting, "Feelthy gypsies! (Spit) We shall speak of them nomore!!!" Set several centuries after the events of Fable, you also get some interesting tidbits during the load screens, like the fate of Lady Grey. It's fluff, it's fun, it's easy, it's a great way to relax. It's also not for the faint of heart, or game snobs. Me, I'm having a good time, and plan to continue doing so. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go dye my shirt and play fetch with my dog.
So, the big question was, would Fable II deliver on the promises its predecessor welched on? The answer is...not too much. The big deal (both intended and actual) with Fable was the "your choices affect the world" idea taken to heights that surpassed mere main quest save-the-world stuff - ie., villagers would flock to you or run in fear, shop prices would reflect your renown and good/evilness, your appearance would alter depending on your morality, etc. Fable II increases this, with clothing and hairstyles affecting your attractiveness, scariness, and purity, and by allowing you to do things like purchase any home or shop in the game and either jack up or reduce prices. They've also added things like the options for casual in-game sex, which can earn you an STD if you're not careful (I know this from the manual, not personal experience), and you can also produce children. The most entertaining new "slice of life" aspect are the jobs - you can get work as a smith, woodcutter, or bartender, and the minigames get pretty tough as your level of work increases, but it's still a great way to make easy money during the nights, and oddly addictive in a pleasant way.
As far as the gameplay... Well, I've always seen the Fable series as a bridge between casual and serious gamers. The combat is incredibly easy, as are the puzzles, and of course there's the whole The Sims thing going on, but it's still an RPG, and hey, maybe if you liked Fable, you'll like, I don't know, Knights of the Old Republic, and see that serious games are fun after all? Unfortunately, Fable II seems a bit too tailored to casual gamers, because that's the only rationale I can think of for the unusual, illogical, and downright bizarre button assignments. Things like, you press different buttons to take out and put away your weapons, and - most awful and irritating - 'B' is not your menu. 'B' activates your magic, and if you happen to have an aggressive spell selected and are in the middle of town and don't want a reputation for scaring and killing villagers, well, let's just say there's lots of reloading involved. This is, for Corey and I, the single difficult thing about Fable II: training ourselves that 'B' is Not. The. Menu. Speaking of reloading, another bizarre and irritating decision is that you cannot load a game from the Save Menu - you need to quit the game to the main menu in order to load or reload. It almost seems like the game was developed by, instead of hiring gamers as testers and sounding board, Lionhead Studios went looking for people whose game experience consists of WiiFit and Brain Academy and asked them, which buttons make the most sense to you? And this is what they said. As well, you don't appear to be able to choose your hotkeys - at least, we haven't figured it out yet, and the manual is silent on the matter. Then there are the baffling story-related decisions, like revealing the identity of your mysterious mentor from the very beginning of the game - your first quest objective post-childhood is "Follow Theresa". Okay, if you haven't played Fable, this won't mean very much, but if you have, it's a bit disappointing.
Still, Fable II is even more entertaining than its predecessor. A word of warning, though: although it's quite humorous, it's not always lighthearted. The Fable series is a British production - I know, how often do you play an RPG that isn't American, Canadian, or Japanese? - and as such is infused with a very British sense of humour. This means that the jokes are ridiculous, dry, morbid, rude, cruel, raunchy, depressing, or any combination of the above. That's raunchy in the original sense, not in the weird habit that's popped up in suburbia these last few years of kids saying "raunchy" in place of "gross". If your only British media experience is Monty Python's Flying Circus, this is a pretty good gauge of Fable's style of humour. And if you don't care for that show, this game will probably be little more than childish, nonsensical, and irritating.
All this is also not to say that Fable II isn't worth playing. It's certainly not worth the current new copy rate of $59.99 (Can.), but it's a good borrow or cheap bin purchase. It's great fun having an invincible doggie companion who sniffs out treasure and dig spots (and goes for the throat of any enemies you knock down without killing), the addition of rifles and pistols is highly entertaining, and there's nothing wrong with spending an hour dyeing and trying on your outfits (nothing). I also get a lot of private enjoyment over the fact that your character is raised by gypsies, and any time I go home to visit I hear the Italian Wolfram & Hart lady from Angel Season 5 shouting, "Feelthy gypsies! (Spit) We shall speak of them nomore!!!" Set several centuries after the events of Fable, you also get some interesting tidbits during the load screens, like the fate of Lady Grey. It's fluff, it's fun, it's easy, it's a great way to relax. It's also not for the faint of heart, or game snobs. Me, I'm having a good time, and plan to continue doing so. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go dye my shirt and play fetch with my dog.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Snap Judgment: Looks Like I Was Wrong!
I watched the entire first season of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and concluded that it wasn't quite good enough to invest time in on a regular basis. It wasn't horrible, but it had too many logic inconsistencies to be good. So, I never bothered with the current season - also, in the fall, it was on at the same time as Chuck, and we don't have DVR, so definitely a no-go. Corey's been watching it with his brother, and keeps telling me, "you should come watch this episode of Terminator. This is the best sci-fi ever on TV, and perhaps the best show on TV right now, period." And I said, sure, Corey. Well, Terminator is now in the death slot of Fridays at 9 p.m, and doesn't conflict with anything I like to watch, so, last night, I watched it. It seems Corey wasn't being hyperbolic, and my new TV-related goal is to purchase this season upon its release so that I can watch it from start to finish. With beautifully tight, multi-layered writing, great additions to and elaborations on the Terminator mythos, and incredible acting, this one episode blew me away. I'm not ready to say it's superior to Life, which continues to be all out of bubblegum, but it's certainly equal. The emergence of new AI John Henry, who is definitely not SkyNet, the mystery surrounding the time travellers' conflicting memories on the date of Judgment Day, John's consistent and believable transformation into Future John, and the intriguing parallel of John's uncle's girlfriend being every bit as insane as Sarah became after meeting Kyle are as stories as quality as they are compelling. And did I mention the acting? I'd go so far as to say it's stellar! Especially Summer Glau (Firefly) as Terminator and John's future confidante (and, maybe, lover) Cameron. A formally trained ballerina, Glau uses her perfect control of her body to maximum effect - this lithe little woman somehow manages to move like something extremely heavy (like a robot!) in a way so subtle and natural it could easily go unnoticed. So here you have it, my plug for Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I'm actually hoping the season ends early so it's released ASAP. And, you know, hoping its renewed for a third season.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Bits 'n Bites
I have a thing for soundtracks. A good or great soundtrack helps tell a story, and enhances any viewing or playing experience. I picked up the Halo 2 soundtrack at the library today. I really wanted the original Halo 'track, because it's still my favourite of the three. It was made, obviously, before Halo became a pop-culture phenomenon, and is unrestrained in its gameish-ness. Great stuff. Halo 2 upped the pop quotient considerably in terms of its sound, and I wasn't too nuts about it while playing the game, but that was OK because there was plenty to keep me distracted, like making sure my Marines didn't blow themselves up if I gave them rocket launchers.
Hearing a game soundtrack while not playing the game is a very different experience. Upon listening to Halo 2's twenty-one tracks while cleaning and eating lunch, I have to say, it's a great album. It's composed primarily of styles I've never been big on, those being metalcore (what it sounds like, a combination of heavy metal and hardcore) and electronica, but it's such good metalcore and electronica that I couldn't help but enjoy and appreciate it. A catchy and hilarious electronica track, peppered with one-way sound bites of Cortana alternately talking to the Chief and Guilty Spark, stands out in particular. At least, I'm pretty sure Guilty Spark's the recipient of some of that conversation - it's been about a year since I last played 2.
Yeah, I'll still take the Halo soundtrack over Halo 2...but not necessarily, since they're so different. My horizons are officially broadened.
On a completely unrelated note, the Edmonton Public Library doesn't own a single copy of the Kiefer Sutherland Three Musketeers - not even the Michael Yorke Three Musketeers, all they've got is a silent film version. What kind of respectable gigantic library doesn't have the Kiefer Three Musketeers? I mean, really. The librarian said she'd place an order, and to call back in six weeks. The ball is rolling. You're welcome, Edmonton. ;)
Hearing a game soundtrack while not playing the game is a very different experience. Upon listening to Halo 2's twenty-one tracks while cleaning and eating lunch, I have to say, it's a great album. It's composed primarily of styles I've never been big on, those being metalcore (what it sounds like, a combination of heavy metal and hardcore) and electronica, but it's such good metalcore and electronica that I couldn't help but enjoy and appreciate it. A catchy and hilarious electronica track, peppered with one-way sound bites of Cortana alternately talking to the Chief and Guilty Spark, stands out in particular. At least, I'm pretty sure Guilty Spark's the recipient of some of that conversation - it's been about a year since I last played 2.
Yeah, I'll still take the Halo soundtrack over Halo 2...but not necessarily, since they're so different. My horizons are officially broadened.
On a completely unrelated note, the Edmonton Public Library doesn't own a single copy of the Kiefer Sutherland Three Musketeers - not even the Michael Yorke Three Musketeers, all they've got is a silent film version. What kind of respectable gigantic library doesn't have the Kiefer Three Musketeers? I mean, really. The librarian said she'd place an order, and to call back in six weeks. The ball is rolling. You're welcome, Edmonton. ;)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Forever Whine
The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman, was recommended to me on the strength of my appreciation for Robert A. Heinlein's military sci-fi masterpiece, Starship Troopers. Seeing as how that book has never been unseated from my #1 slot for its genre (and I've been devouring classic and contemporary sci-fi since I read 2001: A Space Odyssey at the age of 10), I was anxious to get my mitts on The Forever War. Since it hasn't been consistently in print since its first publishing, that wasn't an easy task, so when I saw it at Coles for $4.99, I was a happy camper. However, by the time I hit chapter four, to continue the camper metaphor it was the equivalent of discovering I'd accidentally pitched my tent atop an underground swamp, and then it rained for four days. But it came highly praised, so I finished that sucker, and now bring my findings to you.
The plot is pretty basic (not that there's anything wrong with that), and follows young draftee William Mandella as he fights a war whose purpose remains uncertain. It's also a hyperspace war, which means that William may travel between solar system for a subjective three months, but twenty-five years will have passed on Earth - so even if he survives combat, he may never see his family or any civilian friends again. Matters become even more discouraging for William when he and his girlfriend, Marygay, are promoted and assigned to different ships. This overarching story is punctuated by occasional combat situations, learning how much things on Earth have changed since William's departure, and talking about how much he hates the military.
I think I may have liked this book were I alive during 'Nam, a hippie, or politically correct. As such, The Forever War had nothing to offer me. Author Haldeman is a Vietnam veteran, this book was inspired by that experience, and every page oozes with related baggage. Alternating between being a protester's ultimate revenge dream (in this army, everyone's a conscript...but only the elite are drafted), a bizarre and ridiculous portrayal of how to run a military (more on that later), and tackling some sexual discrimination issues with a "Ha! Now you know how it feels!" that's about as subtle as a Margaret Atwood novel or an episode of House, this book didn't make a very good case for why so many people think it's the best sci-fi novel ever. The hardest part about reading to the end was not being able to conjure up any sympathy or respect for hero and narrator William. He bitches in a shocked and offended fashion any time it appears that military discipline may be required of him and then wonders, when he's given command, why his company is so unhappy and mutinous. Could it be, perhaps, because their military has no concept of what a military is, requires no (self-)discipline of any sort off the battlefield, encourages morale by having the troops disrespect their superior officers by shouting "Fuck you, Sir!" every time they're dismissed (the logic behind becoming a happier, more confident grunt by being taught and encouraged to hate your CO eludes me - standard troop unity involves hating the sargeant but loving the Old Man), supports them getting drunk and stoned on a regular basis, organizes orgies, and doesn't seem to mind when commanding officers voice their uncertainty, lack of knowledge, and fears to their subordinates en masse? Yes, I realize this is a 'Nam commentary, and as my husband pointed out, something was obviously very wrong with the American military at that time as the reported percentage of Vietnam veterans with severe psychological problems outstrips veterans of any other American war significantly. At the time Haldeman wrote this book, the accepted number was %30, a finding which a number of studies have reduced to 18% over the current decade; there are lots of factors in play here. However, the paradox of any "personal experience" story is that it always leaves the question of how much of that account is trustworthy and how much is tainted by, well, having actually experienced it. The first American-involved war I'm old enough to remember watching on TV is Operation Desert Storm, so I can't throw anything into the ring in this regard. What I can throw down is the criticism that it's hard to feel for a character who makes no effort to improve the situation he's been forced into, rejects such bourgeois concepts as personal growth, and comes across as childish, thoughtless (literally; I don't mean 'insensitive'), and, frankly, stupid. If William Mandella is an accurate representation of America's intellectual elite, that country's screwed.
On top of all that, The Forever War isn't even well-written. I'd put its quality of writing somewhere around that of one of the bad Star Wars novels, for example any part of the "Jedi Academy" trilogy, or early Stephen King. Yes, I know it's a first novel. I'd probably be more generous here if it weren't for all the fawning adoration directed online toward this particular first novel, from formal sci-fi reviews and one inexplicable Hugo to personal websites - it's pretty disingenuous (and oxymoronic) to label any first novel a "masterpiece". I can't help but wonder if this book is so popular because it's a "human cost of war/war is hell" story, and we're just supposed to like those. I know this is cynical, but in my experience it's just not socially correct to dislike such stories. They're powerful! They tell it like it is! Do they? None of that really matters in the end if they're plain old bad or mediocre art elevated above their levels by how popular their ideology is. Starship Troopers has nothing against the military as an institution, and for a lot of the detractors I've spoken with or read this suggestion that it's not only okay but necessary for the soldier profession to exist - and that it can even be a noble calling one can take pride in - is a foundation for criticism.
It makes perfect sense to me that Starship Troopers is required reading for American officer candidates and The Forever War is not. Starship Troopers lays out a complex, thoughtful, rational and perhaps attainable model for soldiers and militaries to aspire to. Also, it's really well-written. I suppose one could argue that The Forever War should be taught as an example of what never to do in the army; I mean, William may very well be the worst fictional officer in print. The literally insane captain from Lieutenant Hornblower has nothing on this guy.
On a side note, it seems in retrospect that the abominable film version of Starship Troopers was written by someone who really preferred The Forever War, but wanted to market it under a more famous and respectable title or just couldn't get the rights. I've long wondered what the point of making that film the antithesis of its namesake book was - perhaps this is a clue.
Andre, the floor is yours - I am exceedingly curious to have your five cents on this book, and the case for calling it a sci-fi masterpiece. In particular, I'd love to hear from someone who likes it, but who can express that appreciation with something more useful than "this is the best book eeeeeever!!!! It's so deep, man!". That would be you. :)
The plot is pretty basic (not that there's anything wrong with that), and follows young draftee William Mandella as he fights a war whose purpose remains uncertain. It's also a hyperspace war, which means that William may travel between solar system for a subjective three months, but twenty-five years will have passed on Earth - so even if he survives combat, he may never see his family or any civilian friends again. Matters become even more discouraging for William when he and his girlfriend, Marygay, are promoted and assigned to different ships. This overarching story is punctuated by occasional combat situations, learning how much things on Earth have changed since William's departure, and talking about how much he hates the military.
I think I may have liked this book were I alive during 'Nam, a hippie, or politically correct. As such, The Forever War had nothing to offer me. Author Haldeman is a Vietnam veteran, this book was inspired by that experience, and every page oozes with related baggage. Alternating between being a protester's ultimate revenge dream (in this army, everyone's a conscript...but only the elite are drafted), a bizarre and ridiculous portrayal of how to run a military (more on that later), and tackling some sexual discrimination issues with a "Ha! Now you know how it feels!" that's about as subtle as a Margaret Atwood novel or an episode of House, this book didn't make a very good case for why so many people think it's the best sci-fi novel ever. The hardest part about reading to the end was not being able to conjure up any sympathy or respect for hero and narrator William. He bitches in a shocked and offended fashion any time it appears that military discipline may be required of him and then wonders, when he's given command, why his company is so unhappy and mutinous. Could it be, perhaps, because their military has no concept of what a military is, requires no (self-)discipline of any sort off the battlefield, encourages morale by having the troops disrespect their superior officers by shouting "Fuck you, Sir!" every time they're dismissed (the logic behind becoming a happier, more confident grunt by being taught and encouraged to hate your CO eludes me - standard troop unity involves hating the sargeant but loving the Old Man), supports them getting drunk and stoned on a regular basis, organizes orgies, and doesn't seem to mind when commanding officers voice their uncertainty, lack of knowledge, and fears to their subordinates en masse? Yes, I realize this is a 'Nam commentary, and as my husband pointed out, something was obviously very wrong with the American military at that time as the reported percentage of Vietnam veterans with severe psychological problems outstrips veterans of any other American war significantly. At the time Haldeman wrote this book, the accepted number was %30, a finding which a number of studies have reduced to 18% over the current decade; there are lots of factors in play here. However, the paradox of any "personal experience" story is that it always leaves the question of how much of that account is trustworthy and how much is tainted by, well, having actually experienced it. The first American-involved war I'm old enough to remember watching on TV is Operation Desert Storm, so I can't throw anything into the ring in this regard. What I can throw down is the criticism that it's hard to feel for a character who makes no effort to improve the situation he's been forced into, rejects such bourgeois concepts as personal growth, and comes across as childish, thoughtless (literally; I don't mean 'insensitive'), and, frankly, stupid. If William Mandella is an accurate representation of America's intellectual elite, that country's screwed.
On top of all that, The Forever War isn't even well-written. I'd put its quality of writing somewhere around that of one of the bad Star Wars novels, for example any part of the "Jedi Academy" trilogy, or early Stephen King. Yes, I know it's a first novel. I'd probably be more generous here if it weren't for all the fawning adoration directed online toward this particular first novel, from formal sci-fi reviews and one inexplicable Hugo to personal websites - it's pretty disingenuous (and oxymoronic) to label any first novel a "masterpiece". I can't help but wonder if this book is so popular because it's a "human cost of war/war is hell" story, and we're just supposed to like those. I know this is cynical, but in my experience it's just not socially correct to dislike such stories. They're powerful! They tell it like it is! Do they? None of that really matters in the end if they're plain old bad or mediocre art elevated above their levels by how popular their ideology is. Starship Troopers has nothing against the military as an institution, and for a lot of the detractors I've spoken with or read this suggestion that it's not only okay but necessary for the soldier profession to exist - and that it can even be a noble calling one can take pride in - is a foundation for criticism.
It makes perfect sense to me that Starship Troopers is required reading for American officer candidates and The Forever War is not. Starship Troopers lays out a complex, thoughtful, rational and perhaps attainable model for soldiers and militaries to aspire to. Also, it's really well-written. I suppose one could argue that The Forever War should be taught as an example of what never to do in the army; I mean, William may very well be the worst fictional officer in print. The literally insane captain from Lieutenant Hornblower has nothing on this guy.
On a side note, it seems in retrospect that the abominable film version of Starship Troopers was written by someone who really preferred The Forever War, but wanted to market it under a more famous and respectable title or just couldn't get the rights. I've long wondered what the point of making that film the antithesis of its namesake book was - perhaps this is a clue.
Andre, the floor is yours - I am exceedingly curious to have your five cents on this book, and the case for calling it a sci-fi masterpiece. In particular, I'd love to hear from someone who likes it, but who can express that appreciation with something more useful than "this is the best book eeeeeever!!!! It's so deep, man!". That would be you. :)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Trust no one. Decieve everyone. Talk about it. A lot.
I like Ridley Scott. He's made some solid films, and Numb3rs has really taken off these past three seasons. I also like Leonardo DiCaprio, one of the finest actors of his generation. And Russell Crowe has yet to turn in a performance that's disappointed me.
Body of Lies (2008) features DiCaprio as up-and-coming CIA agent Roger Ferris, whose territory is the Middle East. Ferris is a man who's been around, seen things, and knows what he's doing. When his boss and predecessor assigns him to Jordan as acting station chief to coordinate the hunt for a terrorist leader, things seem to be going pretty well. Ferris is sensitive to Jordanian culture and customs, and national intelligence director Hani Salaam (character actor Mark Strong) likes him. However, Hani is also excellent at his job, and his dealings with Ferris are unavoidably tainted by his bad experiences with said predecessor, Ed Hoffman (Crowe). Hani agrees to let Ferris operate in Jordan, and even to provide him with Jordanian intelligence people and resources, on one condition: honesty. He requires Ferris to promise not to lie to him, and the exploration of expectations regarding truth and lies set off by Hoffman forcing him to break that promise forms the closest thing this film has to a core.
There are some aspects to this film that are well-conceived. The acting from DiCaprio, Crowe, and Strong is above reproach, and Crowe's American continues to improve. The promises Ferris makes throughout the film are not those of a naive idealist because they're ones he has authority, as acting station chief, to make - an unfortunately unique feature in a spy film, and a welcome one. As well, the sound editing is first-rate - I only needed one to two volume bars of difference between dialogue and explosions. And Scott's never had trouble filming good action, so those explosions are pretty nice, too. There are also some interesting explorations, like the paradox of the distrustful intelligence man who expects his allies to divulge all while being unwilling to do so himself, and a commentary on the failings of technology as related to the war on terror.
Unfortunately, that's where the accolades end. I can't recommend Body of Lies to anyone, because it isn't good. The script, based on a novel of the same name, brings up around half a dozen distinct ideas and pronouncements that fail to converge and instead run about in different directions for the duration. The film itself has no direction; it just trundles along like a person who loves to talk and doesn't know when to stop. At 128 minutes, and with so much unnecessary content, it's far too long. Perhaps this shouldn't be too surprising from Scott, who, let's face it, hasn't made a truly tight film of proper pace and length since Alien. What is surprising is this the script is by William Monahan, who also wrote The Departed. This may be a good clue as to how much influence a (famous) director has on the plotting of a movie.
The other big boo-hiss for Body of Lies is the presence of unnecessary gore. If you know me, or read this blog on a semi-regular basis, you'll know I support realism in the portrayal of atrocities, and showing violence as it really is, but only as is necessary to the plot, message, character studies, etc. A good example of this is Children of Men, in which the brutal and constant string of deaths serve to emphasize the film's deep concern for life. Or, for a more direct comparison here, the torture scene in Casino Royale - disturbing, effective, and conveyed entirely through a gore-free and very creepy visual set-up and Daniel Craig's acting. Body of Lies starts out strong in this area, with Ferris sustaining injuries early on that morph into ugly scars as the film progresses, and a scene following an RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) attack in which a disturbingly large amount of someone else's bone fragments are picked out of Ferris' arm. However, the film's torture scene - which is not, in itself, out of place - features more than one close-up of a man's fingers being systematically severed with a hammer. This full-frontal assault was not only unnecessary, but also detrimental to the scene as the sudden shock of revulsion pulled me away from what was happening and being said. I find this use of gore usually has the effect of causing a disconnect from the story, or overshadowing it.
Body of Lies was recommended to Corey by a Blockbuster employee who compared it to Spy Game. If you want to watch a good mentor-protegee/foreign relations spy film, pick up the latter. Also, Corey says that Syriana (which I still haven't watched, as it gathers dust on the shelf) tackles many of the same issues as Body of Lies while being a far superior film. So, there are options in this genre that won't make you regret the ridiculous cost of rental. Huzzah!
Body of Lies (2008) features DiCaprio as up-and-coming CIA agent Roger Ferris, whose territory is the Middle East. Ferris is a man who's been around, seen things, and knows what he's doing. When his boss and predecessor assigns him to Jordan as acting station chief to coordinate the hunt for a terrorist leader, things seem to be going pretty well. Ferris is sensitive to Jordanian culture and customs, and national intelligence director Hani Salaam (character actor Mark Strong) likes him. However, Hani is also excellent at his job, and his dealings with Ferris are unavoidably tainted by his bad experiences with said predecessor, Ed Hoffman (Crowe). Hani agrees to let Ferris operate in Jordan, and even to provide him with Jordanian intelligence people and resources, on one condition: honesty. He requires Ferris to promise not to lie to him, and the exploration of expectations regarding truth and lies set off by Hoffman forcing him to break that promise forms the closest thing this film has to a core.
There are some aspects to this film that are well-conceived. The acting from DiCaprio, Crowe, and Strong is above reproach, and Crowe's American continues to improve. The promises Ferris makes throughout the film are not those of a naive idealist because they're ones he has authority, as acting station chief, to make - an unfortunately unique feature in a spy film, and a welcome one. As well, the sound editing is first-rate - I only needed one to two volume bars of difference between dialogue and explosions. And Scott's never had trouble filming good action, so those explosions are pretty nice, too. There are also some interesting explorations, like the paradox of the distrustful intelligence man who expects his allies to divulge all while being unwilling to do so himself, and a commentary on the failings of technology as related to the war on terror.
Unfortunately, that's where the accolades end. I can't recommend Body of Lies to anyone, because it isn't good. The script, based on a novel of the same name, brings up around half a dozen distinct ideas and pronouncements that fail to converge and instead run about in different directions for the duration. The film itself has no direction; it just trundles along like a person who loves to talk and doesn't know when to stop. At 128 minutes, and with so much unnecessary content, it's far too long. Perhaps this shouldn't be too surprising from Scott, who, let's face it, hasn't made a truly tight film of proper pace and length since Alien. What is surprising is this the script is by William Monahan, who also wrote The Departed. This may be a good clue as to how much influence a (famous) director has on the plotting of a movie.
The other big boo-hiss for Body of Lies is the presence of unnecessary gore. If you know me, or read this blog on a semi-regular basis, you'll know I support realism in the portrayal of atrocities, and showing violence as it really is, but only as is necessary to the plot, message, character studies, etc. A good example of this is Children of Men, in which the brutal and constant string of deaths serve to emphasize the film's deep concern for life. Or, for a more direct comparison here, the torture scene in Casino Royale - disturbing, effective, and conveyed entirely through a gore-free and very creepy visual set-up and Daniel Craig's acting. Body of Lies starts out strong in this area, with Ferris sustaining injuries early on that morph into ugly scars as the film progresses, and a scene following an RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) attack in which a disturbingly large amount of someone else's bone fragments are picked out of Ferris' arm. However, the film's torture scene - which is not, in itself, out of place - features more than one close-up of a man's fingers being systematically severed with a hammer. This full-frontal assault was not only unnecessary, but also detrimental to the scene as the sudden shock of revulsion pulled me away from what was happening and being said. I find this use of gore usually has the effect of causing a disconnect from the story, or overshadowing it.
Body of Lies was recommended to Corey by a Blockbuster employee who compared it to Spy Game. If you want to watch a good mentor-protegee/foreign relations spy film, pick up the latter. Also, Corey says that Syriana (which I still haven't watched, as it gathers dust on the shelf) tackles many of the same issues as Body of Lies while being a far superior film. So, there are options in this genre that won't make you regret the ridiculous cost of rental. Huzzah!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Sam Tyler, We Hardly Knew Ye
So Entertainment Weekly reported today that Life on Mars has been canceled, meaning it will be allowed to make a series finale but won't have its intended second season.
Personally, I'm just surprised that it was meant to go another season in the first place. I always assumed it was intended as a one-season show; I can't imagine where they'd find enough quality main-plot to fill another year.
Personally, I'm just surprised that it was meant to go another season in the first place. I always assumed it was intended as a one-season show; I can't imagine where they'd find enough quality main-plot to fill another year.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Traitor
When a film is critically panned and accused of opportunism, fearmongering, and being a propaganda machine for "racist paranoia", it's no surprise that it isn't well-known. Traitor (2008), starring Don Cheadle, Said Taghmaoui, and Guy Pearce, is clumsy in the way the works of most first-time directors are clumsy. However, with suprisingly mature discussions of some things that are very un-PC to talk about and solid performances across the board, Traitor may be a bit long at 1:45 but is well worth the time.
The story follows Samir Horn (Cheadle), a black man with an American mother and Sudanese father who came to the States as a young teen after his father was killed in a car bombing. As an adult, Samir joined the U.S. Army Special Forces - ie., the people who go places where the U.S. military has no official presence - and specialized in explosives. On a Middle Eastern operation, he went AWOL only to turn up on the American radar years later, supplying Muslim terrorists with detonators. It should be mentioned at this time that Samir is Muslim himself. Arrested when the Yemeni military busts his detonator delivery, Samir finds himself in a local prison and comes to befriend fellow Muslim Omar (Said Taghmaoui,Three Kings). Omar is part of a highly organized terror cell, and takes Samir with him during a planned jailbreak, at which point Samir goes from "neutral" supplier to full-on jihadist. As the film progresses, so do increasing questions regarding Samir's loyalties insofar as his faith, assorted citizenships, and good and evil. Samir's work with Omar and co. is interspersed with the work of FBI agents Clayton and Archer (Pearce and Minority Report's Neal McDonough), for whom Samir has become a key player in domestic terror plots.
Doesn't that sound controversial? The satisfying thing is, Traitor isn't nearly as controversial (read: incendiary) as it could have been, and for all the right reasons. Still, there are many aspects that will offend the militantly politically correct; for example, Muslims engaged in terrorist acts. When Clayton interviews Samir's mother, she asserts the familiar refrain that either you're a Muslim - implicitly, a good person too - or you're not; extremists are simply not Muslim, hence there's no such thing as a Muslim extremist. Through the character of Omar in particular, writer Jeffery Nachmanoff gently but firmly exposes the narrow falsehood of this popular assertion, and to some degree the arrogance of believing that your faith is the one that has no extremist factions. It's factors like this, and the way in which they're handled on-screen, that make Traitor a genuine dialogue inducer instead of the shrill, bigoted, self-righteous mess it so easily could have been. On the same note, Traitor is also interesting for it's exploration of faith working itself out through deeds, whether for good or ill. Samir is working out his faith through his actions and choices, as is Omar, albeit in a different fashion, and to contrast them is a leader of their cell who comes across as no man of faith, but the Muslim version of someone who only goes to church on Christmas. Agent Clayton, engaged in a conversation about religious extremism, talks about his experiences as a Southern Baptist and how he grew up watching the KKK burn crosses on people's lawns - and then recalls how "me, my daddy, and others from our church would drive over and put them out." Little things like this give Clayton's character, and the film as a whole, its credibility - the citizens of Traitor demonstrate what they believe not by telling, but by doing. In an interesting and bold decision, the makeshift terrorist madrassa Samir, Omar and co. have for a home base is in France, a country that's made lots of headlines in the past few years for its institutional (and casual) anti-Mulsim bigotry. This may be the last straw that led Entertainment Weekly and others to dismiss Traitor as "racist paranoia", however, it rises beyond that in the context of the film as a whole and the character studies situated within. I wonder what comments Said Taghmaoui, a Frenchman himself, has to make on this aspect of the film; I imagine they'd be quite interesting. Another aspect I particularly appreciated was the fact that we never learn who killed Samir's father. Was he killed by the U.S.? By the Sudanese government? By Muslim terrorists? By Muslim anti-terrorists? Leaving this in doubt was a wise writing decision, because it compliments the film and adds to the dialogue instead of muddying the waters with a cut and dried reveal. Though Traitor makes some firm pronouncements, cut and dried is not an expression that can describe it as a whole.
As mature as the writing is, at the end of the day it's Don Cheadle, Said Taghmaoui, and Guy Pearce who hold the film together and make it work. It's just always nice to see Taghmaoui and Pearce, two outstanding actors that I wish we saw more of. All three portray quiet,strong men sustained and guided by their respective faiths while confronting the conflicts of the faith/duty paradox, and all three do it very well. All three are also very handsome which, if we're going to be honest with ourselves, always enhances a film viewing experience. Did I just say that out loud?
I mentionned some clumsiness, and Traitor has the sort that's fair to expect from a directorial debut, particularly as pertains to the action elements. And yet, the action scenes mostly work, as what occurs in them forces Samir to make on-the-spot decisions regarding his conscience and loyalties, which leads back to the foundations of the film. As well, though the film has a whole lot of globetrotting, it retains its calm, eschewing the frantic "Aah! Look! We're halfway across the world!" pace popularized by the Bourne films, but rarely used as well as in those. On the questionable side of things is a plotline involving Jeff Daniels and undercover work that to me seemed implausible, but which I have been assured was actually a common practice during the Cold War and so probably hasn't entirely died out, though there are failsafes in place that the film ignored for the sake of drama. There are also a few pat lines regarding the States' relationship with the Muslim world, and the final line of the film would have been great and useful for a discussion in the middle, but as a final statement came across as contrived, slightly out of place, and a bit nonsensical. Most unfortunately, Samir's final victory requires a leap of logic almost as great at the scene in The Day After Tomorrow wherein Jake Gyllenhaal, with great melodrama and sadness, burns the books of the Library of Congress to prevent the survivors from freezing to death whilst surrounded by literal tons of hardwood furniture. I mention The Day After Tomorrow because that is the other only other significant credit (out of a total three) that writer/director Jeffery Nachmanoff has to his name, a revelation which caused my brother-in-law to use an expletive preceeded by "what the???". With this guy helming things, and helming them with that Steve Martin at his side as co-writer and executive producer, the overall quality of Traitor is all the more impressive for its bizarre pedigree.
All in all, if you like to talk about things instead of pretending they don't happen, Traitor is a solid character study and a strong, interesting commentary on faith, deeds, and duty. Try not to get your nose bent too much out of shape over Agent Archer's hilariously rude assessment of Halifax, and you should enjoy it just fine. ;)
The story follows Samir Horn (Cheadle), a black man with an American mother and Sudanese father who came to the States as a young teen after his father was killed in a car bombing. As an adult, Samir joined the U.S. Army Special Forces - ie., the people who go places where the U.S. military has no official presence - and specialized in explosives. On a Middle Eastern operation, he went AWOL only to turn up on the American radar years later, supplying Muslim terrorists with detonators. It should be mentioned at this time that Samir is Muslim himself. Arrested when the Yemeni military busts his detonator delivery, Samir finds himself in a local prison and comes to befriend fellow Muslim Omar (Said Taghmaoui,Three Kings). Omar is part of a highly organized terror cell, and takes Samir with him during a planned jailbreak, at which point Samir goes from "neutral" supplier to full-on jihadist. As the film progresses, so do increasing questions regarding Samir's loyalties insofar as his faith, assorted citizenships, and good and evil. Samir's work with Omar and co. is interspersed with the work of FBI agents Clayton and Archer (Pearce and Minority Report's Neal McDonough), for whom Samir has become a key player in domestic terror plots.
Doesn't that sound controversial? The satisfying thing is, Traitor isn't nearly as controversial (read: incendiary) as it could have been, and for all the right reasons. Still, there are many aspects that will offend the militantly politically correct; for example, Muslims engaged in terrorist acts. When Clayton interviews Samir's mother, she asserts the familiar refrain that either you're a Muslim - implicitly, a good person too - or you're not; extremists are simply not Muslim, hence there's no such thing as a Muslim extremist. Through the character of Omar in particular, writer Jeffery Nachmanoff gently but firmly exposes the narrow falsehood of this popular assertion, and to some degree the arrogance of believing that your faith is the one that has no extremist factions. It's factors like this, and the way in which they're handled on-screen, that make Traitor a genuine dialogue inducer instead of the shrill, bigoted, self-righteous mess it so easily could have been. On the same note, Traitor is also interesting for it's exploration of faith working itself out through deeds, whether for good or ill. Samir is working out his faith through his actions and choices, as is Omar, albeit in a different fashion, and to contrast them is a leader of their cell who comes across as no man of faith, but the Muslim version of someone who only goes to church on Christmas. Agent Clayton, engaged in a conversation about religious extremism, talks about his experiences as a Southern Baptist and how he grew up watching the KKK burn crosses on people's lawns - and then recalls how "me, my daddy, and others from our church would drive over and put them out." Little things like this give Clayton's character, and the film as a whole, its credibility - the citizens of Traitor demonstrate what they believe not by telling, but by doing. In an interesting and bold decision, the makeshift terrorist madrassa Samir, Omar and co. have for a home base is in France, a country that's made lots of headlines in the past few years for its institutional (and casual) anti-Mulsim bigotry. This may be the last straw that led Entertainment Weekly and others to dismiss Traitor as "racist paranoia", however, it rises beyond that in the context of the film as a whole and the character studies situated within. I wonder what comments Said Taghmaoui, a Frenchman himself, has to make on this aspect of the film; I imagine they'd be quite interesting. Another aspect I particularly appreciated was the fact that we never learn who killed Samir's father. Was he killed by the U.S.? By the Sudanese government? By Muslim terrorists? By Muslim anti-terrorists? Leaving this in doubt was a wise writing decision, because it compliments the film and adds to the dialogue instead of muddying the waters with a cut and dried reveal. Though Traitor makes some firm pronouncements, cut and dried is not an expression that can describe it as a whole.
As mature as the writing is, at the end of the day it's Don Cheadle, Said Taghmaoui, and Guy Pearce who hold the film together and make it work. It's just always nice to see Taghmaoui and Pearce, two outstanding actors that I wish we saw more of. All three portray quiet,strong men sustained and guided by their respective faiths while confronting the conflicts of the faith/duty paradox, and all three do it very well. All three are also very handsome which, if we're going to be honest with ourselves, always enhances a film viewing experience. Did I just say that out loud?
I mentionned some clumsiness, and Traitor has the sort that's fair to expect from a directorial debut, particularly as pertains to the action elements. And yet, the action scenes mostly work, as what occurs in them forces Samir to make on-the-spot decisions regarding his conscience and loyalties, which leads back to the foundations of the film. As well, though the film has a whole lot of globetrotting, it retains its calm, eschewing the frantic "Aah! Look! We're halfway across the world!" pace popularized by the Bourne films, but rarely used as well as in those. On the questionable side of things is a plotline involving Jeff Daniels and undercover work that to me seemed implausible, but which I have been assured was actually a common practice during the Cold War and so probably hasn't entirely died out, though there are failsafes in place that the film ignored for the sake of drama. There are also a few pat lines regarding the States' relationship with the Muslim world, and the final line of the film would have been great and useful for a discussion in the middle, but as a final statement came across as contrived, slightly out of place, and a bit nonsensical. Most unfortunately, Samir's final victory requires a leap of logic almost as great at the scene in The Day After Tomorrow wherein Jake Gyllenhaal, with great melodrama and sadness, burns the books of the Library of Congress to prevent the survivors from freezing to death whilst surrounded by literal tons of hardwood furniture. I mention The Day After Tomorrow because that is the other only other significant credit (out of a total three) that writer/director Jeffery Nachmanoff has to his name, a revelation which caused my brother-in-law to use an expletive preceeded by "what the???". With this guy helming things, and helming them with that Steve Martin at his side as co-writer and executive producer, the overall quality of Traitor is all the more impressive for its bizarre pedigree.
All in all, if you like to talk about things instead of pretending they don't happen, Traitor is a solid character study and a strong, interesting commentary on faith, deeds, and duty. Try not to get your nose bent too much out of shape over Agent Archer's hilariously rude assessment of Halifax, and you should enjoy it just fine. ;)
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