Thanks to increasingly high audience impatience and financial pressure to perform, TV shows have been getting off to stronger starts these past five or so years. Where it was once understood that pilots would be kind of awkward but just enticing enough to convince viewers to give a show some time to find its legs, the average program now has to hit the ground running in order to have a fighting chance - and most of the good ones still don't survive. Human Target, one of the newest residents of the airwave jungle, has hit the ground running through a U.S. Army obstacle training course with flying colours. What I'm trying to convey with that clumsy analogy, which probably came from having just read a chapter about boot camp in the memoirs of Major Richard Winters, is that the first three episodes of Human Target to go to air have been some very good TV that seems to be doing its best to avoid being a genre cliche.
The premise of Human Target is a very easy one to cliche, as it revolves around the business of a small private security company whose M.O. is to use their high-end clients as bait in order to draw out and apprehend their would-be assassins, robbers, whatever. Staffed by an operator (Chi McBride), a freelance information specialist (Jackie Earle Haley), and, of course, the field operator who acts as an unconventional bodyguard (Mark Valley), they're a legal business, not off the grid like the A-Team. They're also, as demonstrated to solid comic effect in the third episode, very well-connected. Although his history is still a bit spotty, it's been implied that main character Christopher Chance (Valley) has a CIA and/or U.S. Army Special Forces background, and that his past work has earned him a lot of favours in high places waiting to be called in, which also helps with legal side of things.
What is so far making Human Target work, strong acting and writing aside, is its eschewing of standard "special agent for hire" conventions. For example, on basically every other show in the genre, Guerrero (Haley) would be an omnipotent computer geek inept in every other aspect of life. On Human Target, though Guerrero knows his way around a computer and then some, he really is, as I referred to him above, an information specialist. He has contacts, he does legwork, he finds the missing pieces of the puzzle through a wide variety of means for Chris and Winston (McBride). And the best part is, neither him nor secret agent man Chris are omnipotent. They're smart, resourceful, and very well-rounded, but they don't know everything. In the second episode, when a fire in a plane's cabin put the pilots out of commission with smoke inhalation and Chris had to step in and help out, he may have a pilot's license but had, reasonably, never flown a 747, which meant he didn't know squat about its landing gear...but he did know where the cockpit manual was, and consulted it. Later in the same episode, when faced with a problem in the plane's wiring, he went to the pilot for help instead of phoning his tech expert, because Guererro's no expert on 747s - the pilot is. What makes Chris such a great character is that he knows how to use resources, and what makes Guerrero a great character, aside from not being an all-knowing, magical instant problem-solving computer nerd, is that he also knows how to use resources. This team is not an isolated one, which is very refreshing (not to mention plain ol' good storytelling). In the third episode, Guerrero had to keep an eye on someone who'd been poisoned with something that would eventually stop his heart, and his first move was to try to get a hold of his local contacts with medical training. When that fell through (one in prison, the other dead), he went to find a defibrillator, and while sitting around waiting for the need to use it, he read the manual. That's right, he didn't already know how to use a defibrillator, but as he reminded a high-strung Winston, they put those things on school buses. He can figure out how to use one. I would never say anything bad about MacGyver, but I'm glad that the characters on Human Target are not his inferior wannabes.
The three main characters have distinct personalities, interact well together, and, most importantly, each have a different role to play (no pun intended). Guererro does legwork in his capacity as an information guy, and he gets stuff done, but he's no field operative - that's Chris's job. Winston doesn't seem to do much leg work at all, which is fine as he's well suited to and very good at his role as operator and coordinator. As for personalities, Chris is no James Bond or Sam Spade, nor is he a lone wolf or infalliable. He's successful because he doesn't work alone. And Guererro is no awkward wallflower. He's successful in his field of work because he's confident, aggressive, kind of scary, and knows how to deal with people, and has a great tick of calling everyone "dude" without sounding contrived. He's easily shaping up to be my favourite part of the show.
The other major point in Human Target's favour is excellent action, stuntwork, and fight choreography. It also helps that Mark Valley has not only done stuntwork before, but is a West Point graduate and veteran of Desert Storm, and the show makes good use of his physical talents. There's plenty of proper dirty fighting going on, in which Chris makes reasonable use of his surroundings, and the show's even had him fight two women without getting all Mr. and Mrs. Smith stupid (though they couldn't resist using the standard cheesy tango music to accompany a co-ed fight at a black-tie function). This show probably also has a bit more financial freedom for its all-important action sequences due to the fact that their excellent "B-list" main cast probably comes with a reasonable price tag, and you know what? The solution to that equation is high-quality fun that keeps a decent distance from sensationalism.
Due to the unwritten rule that you are no longer allowed to have a cop/buddy cop/spy show with an all-male cast, they have introduced a sexy FBI agent to whom Chris has deliberately made himself accessible, and although his business operates more or less above board and he has friends in high places, he's still broken plenty of federal and international laws over the years - if someone can find him and make a charge stick. His fingerprints are on file, along with over a dozen aliases, but is otherwise blank, and now he's given someone in law enforcement a face to go with the names. I can't imagine what they plan to do with Lady Agent, but I do hope it doesn't involve her joining the team (which has a rock-solid dynamic and is just fine as it is) or adding an unecessary and cliched plot tension involving trying to arrest Chris.
It would seem that Fox has high hopes for Human Target, because where I live it's currently serving as the lead-in for 24, a great way to build an audience and ensure stable ratings. This one may actually be around for a while. I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Sometimes, it's good to be wrong: Stargate: Universe
A while back, when the Sci-Fi Channel went through a revenue-based identity crisis and became the Syfy Channel (still looks like an abbreviation for syphilis), their flagship show was a new addition to the Stargate family. I was quite alarmed by the promotional materials for the show, what with it using words like "sexy" and "adventure" in the same sentence, and going on about how it's been specially made for people who don't like sci-fi, blah blah blah. As such, I made the skittish assumption that it was going to be Defying Gravity with a Stargate label, and resolved to stay away. Well, now we have Space, SyFy's Canadian equivalent, and now Space airs Stargate: Universe, and I all I can say is, I should have known better. The Stargate series happens to be quite fond of its good name, and not even the mighty SyFy channel can do anything to change that.
Stargate: Universe comes to us three years after the conclusion of SG-1 and on the tail end of Stargate: Atlantis's run; story-wise, that's also where it sits chronologically. Its premise is that the Stargate project - a military black op centering around the usage of wormhole technology created by a long-gone race known only as the Ancients - has finally found a nine-chevron address and the means to dial it, nine being the maximum number Stargates have. If seven chevrons gets you to another planet, and eight gets you to another galaxy, where the heck do nine get you? When the big day comes, and various troops, scientists, and dignitaries assemble at an off-world outpost to witness the first attempt to dial the mysterious new address, a surprise enemy attack throws a pretty big monkey in the wrench...and instead of getting everyone back to Earth, the project's lead scientist forces the new dialing sequence to completion, and everyone who survives the attack winds up on the Destiny, an unmanned, half-dead Ancient spacecraft with nothing but the clothes (and weapons) on their backs, and whatever they had the presence of mind to grab before running through the gate. Included in this group are a good but reluctant commander, an army medic who was coming to the deliberate end of her service, a solid young officer for whom the army was his only place to turn after a series of personal crises, and a large group of civilians including an MIT dropout who solved the equation that made the trip to Destiny possible, assorted Stargate Project scientists, a U.S. senator and his adult daughter, a ranking official from the IOA (the international body that oversees the Stargate Project), and the afore-mentioned lead scientist, Dr. Rush.
Hmm. Put like that, I can't help but hear the Gilligan's Island song in my head, but rest assured: the similarities between these two shows end at being stranded with a brilliant scientist and a beautiful but seemingly useless civilian.
The show's conflict stems from three primary plots: survival, the tension between cilivians and soldiers (particularly as pertaining to who's in charge), and the independent, hard to monitor actions of Rush, an extraordinarily talented pathological liar whose intellect is matched only by his disdain for others and his ruthless ambition and obsession to see the project through at all costs, a point of view not held by the mission's accidental military commander. As anyone familiar with the Stargate series would expect, the human interaction is of the highest quality and very interesting, as are the characters doing the interacting. Which is a good thing, because that's what SG:U is really about. Where SG-1 was driven by exploration and mythology, and Atlantis was primarily a military sci-fi, Universe is character-driven, which I suppose is where it becomes more accessible for those outside the sci-fi loop. With the regular, long-term Stargate script-writing collective behind it, this brand-new show has already put most everything else on the air to shame. It's even already put out a time-travel episode, Stargate's specialty, which fused everything good about Aliens and the original Predator with everything good about Stargate, and included the following sure-to-be-classic (at least in my house) dialogue exchange: "Well, this couldn't be any worse!" "I'm afraid that's a failure of imagination."
The only place I can see SG:U getting irritating soon unless handled in a very particular way is in the plotline involving Col. Young's visceral rivalry with Col. Telford, a pilot who was supposed to be the mission commander but was in the middle of a dogfight when everyone went through the gate. Young's crew has an Ancient communication system that allows them to contact Earth, even over a distance of several billion light-years, and involves trading bodies with someone at the other end, and Telford does his best to make sure he's almost always that person so that he can be involved with what's happening on Destiny. The way he sees it, Young stole his rightful position as mission commander. That's right, he'd rather be stranded aboard Destiny, because it's his mission, and he does his best to erode the crew's confidence in Young while insinuating his command agenda into their affairs. On top of that, with a lot of long-term bad blood existing between the two, Telford's got some heavy personal blackmail on Young and isn't afraid to use it without bothering to threaten first, hoping to do enough emotional damage to render Young incapable of command. While not an unrealistic character, as Young's opposite Telford is very intense, and I find that has a tendency to get tiresome fast on a series. But, Stargate is far superior to the average series, so we'll see.
Stargate: Universe isn't on at the moment, doing that irritating mid-winter hiatus thing that's now become a TV staple, but I'm looking forward to its return. As an added, bonus, the Stargate name should guarantee that this excellent new sci-fi won't go the way of the usual excellent new sci-fi (rest in peace, Sarah Connor Chronicles), that is to say it's not likely to be suddenly axed in two seasons or less whilst in the middle of a gripping story arc, and odds are it will be played out to its natural conclusion.
Stargate: Universe comes to us three years after the conclusion of SG-1 and on the tail end of Stargate: Atlantis's run; story-wise, that's also where it sits chronologically. Its premise is that the Stargate project - a military black op centering around the usage of wormhole technology created by a long-gone race known only as the Ancients - has finally found a nine-chevron address and the means to dial it, nine being the maximum number Stargates have. If seven chevrons gets you to another planet, and eight gets you to another galaxy, where the heck do nine get you? When the big day comes, and various troops, scientists, and dignitaries assemble at an off-world outpost to witness the first attempt to dial the mysterious new address, a surprise enemy attack throws a pretty big monkey in the wrench...and instead of getting everyone back to Earth, the project's lead scientist forces the new dialing sequence to completion, and everyone who survives the attack winds up on the Destiny, an unmanned, half-dead Ancient spacecraft with nothing but the clothes (and weapons) on their backs, and whatever they had the presence of mind to grab before running through the gate. Included in this group are a good but reluctant commander, an army medic who was coming to the deliberate end of her service, a solid young officer for whom the army was his only place to turn after a series of personal crises, and a large group of civilians including an MIT dropout who solved the equation that made the trip to Destiny possible, assorted Stargate Project scientists, a U.S. senator and his adult daughter, a ranking official from the IOA (the international body that oversees the Stargate Project), and the afore-mentioned lead scientist, Dr. Rush.
Hmm. Put like that, I can't help but hear the Gilligan's Island song in my head, but rest assured: the similarities between these two shows end at being stranded with a brilliant scientist and a beautiful but seemingly useless civilian.
The show's conflict stems from three primary plots: survival, the tension between cilivians and soldiers (particularly as pertaining to who's in charge), and the independent, hard to monitor actions of Rush, an extraordinarily talented pathological liar whose intellect is matched only by his disdain for others and his ruthless ambition and obsession to see the project through at all costs, a point of view not held by the mission's accidental military commander. As anyone familiar with the Stargate series would expect, the human interaction is of the highest quality and very interesting, as are the characters doing the interacting. Which is a good thing, because that's what SG:U is really about. Where SG-1 was driven by exploration and mythology, and Atlantis was primarily a military sci-fi, Universe is character-driven, which I suppose is where it becomes more accessible for those outside the sci-fi loop. With the regular, long-term Stargate script-writing collective behind it, this brand-new show has already put most everything else on the air to shame. It's even already put out a time-travel episode, Stargate's specialty, which fused everything good about Aliens and the original Predator with everything good about Stargate, and included the following sure-to-be-classic (at least in my house) dialogue exchange: "Well, this couldn't be any worse!" "I'm afraid that's a failure of imagination."
The only place I can see SG:U getting irritating soon unless handled in a very particular way is in the plotline involving Col. Young's visceral rivalry with Col. Telford, a pilot who was supposed to be the mission commander but was in the middle of a dogfight when everyone went through the gate. Young's crew has an Ancient communication system that allows them to contact Earth, even over a distance of several billion light-years, and involves trading bodies with someone at the other end, and Telford does his best to make sure he's almost always that person so that he can be involved with what's happening on Destiny. The way he sees it, Young stole his rightful position as mission commander. That's right, he'd rather be stranded aboard Destiny, because it's his mission, and he does his best to erode the crew's confidence in Young while insinuating his command agenda into their affairs. On top of that, with a lot of long-term bad blood existing between the two, Telford's got some heavy personal blackmail on Young and isn't afraid to use it without bothering to threaten first, hoping to do enough emotional damage to render Young incapable of command. While not an unrealistic character, as Young's opposite Telford is very intense, and I find that has a tendency to get tiresome fast on a series. But, Stargate is far superior to the average series, so we'll see.
Stargate: Universe isn't on at the moment, doing that irritating mid-winter hiatus thing that's now become a TV staple, but I'm looking forward to its return. As an added, bonus, the Stargate name should guarantee that this excellent new sci-fi won't go the way of the usual excellent new sci-fi (rest in peace, Sarah Connor Chronicles), that is to say it's not likely to be suddenly axed in two seasons or less whilst in the middle of a gripping story arc, and odds are it will be played out to its natural conclusion.
Army of Two
Army of Two (EA Montreal)
Third-person co-operative shooter
Rated M for Mature
PRO:
As the name suggests, it cannot be played alone and requires improved teamwork and communication skills, as it prevents you from completing missions if your buddy is dead (unlike Halo, one person can't just carry you through). It also involves and/or requires actions like flanking, covering, drawing fire away from your buddy so that they can take someone out or because they're injured or re-loading, moving objects or scaling walls that can't be done without help, and dragging your wounded buddy to cover so that you can patch them up before they bleed to death and you get an automatic game over. If you don't have a live buddy handy, the game provides you with a very decent virtual one.
CON:
The split-screen can be tough viewing at some points, unless you have a really big TV. The enemies are pretty small.
PRO:
You don't have to keep checking the split-screen to know what your buddy's up to if he's out of your line of sight, thanks to an inset camera on your half of the screen that follows him.
CON:
Not for the politically correct, as the game centers around the military-vs.PMC (private military contractors) debate, and places you in real-life hot spots like Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. There is one particular mission in which your biggest danger is suicide bombers, and one of the game's Xbox achievements is setting off 25 suicide bombers before they can set themselves off.
PRO:
A fun arsenal of unlockable, buyable weapons that includes an interesting assortment of assault rifles, sidearms, sniper rifles, RPGs, and machine guns. Most of them have available upgrades for the barrel, stock, cartridge, suppressor, and/or frountmount, as well as on-the-barrel shields.
CON:
You can only swap out your weapons at set points in the game, and as far as I can tell, can't decide what your virtual buddy is packing.
PRO:
This results in interesting decisions, if you've already played the game, or interesting strategies if you haven't played the game and find yourself in a scenario in which your equipped weapons are not really the right tools for the job. However, you can swap your primary, secondary, or special weapon with your partner at any time.
CON:
I always forget that you can swap weapons with your partner.
PRO:
One of the character's lines when in "Overkill" mode is "Game over, man! Game over!".
CON:
People tend to swear a lot when they're getting shot at. This can be a put-off to some gamers.
PRO:
One of the achievements involves making like Dirty Harry.
CON:
Viewing the achievements leads to plot spoilers, such as purpose of the achievement that involves making like Dirty Harry.
PRO:
You probably saw that plot point coming from a mile away, anyways.
CONSENSUS:
Silly but fun.
Third-person co-operative shooter
Rated M for Mature
PRO:
As the name suggests, it cannot be played alone and requires improved teamwork and communication skills, as it prevents you from completing missions if your buddy is dead (unlike Halo, one person can't just carry you through). It also involves and/or requires actions like flanking, covering, drawing fire away from your buddy so that they can take someone out or because they're injured or re-loading, moving objects or scaling walls that can't be done without help, and dragging your wounded buddy to cover so that you can patch them up before they bleed to death and you get an automatic game over. If you don't have a live buddy handy, the game provides you with a very decent virtual one.
CON:
The split-screen can be tough viewing at some points, unless you have a really big TV. The enemies are pretty small.
PRO:
You don't have to keep checking the split-screen to know what your buddy's up to if he's out of your line of sight, thanks to an inset camera on your half of the screen that follows him.
CON:
Not for the politically correct, as the game centers around the military-vs.PMC (private military contractors) debate, and places you in real-life hot spots like Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. There is one particular mission in which your biggest danger is suicide bombers, and one of the game's Xbox achievements is setting off 25 suicide bombers before they can set themselves off.
PRO:
A fun arsenal of unlockable, buyable weapons that includes an interesting assortment of assault rifles, sidearms, sniper rifles, RPGs, and machine guns. Most of them have available upgrades for the barrel, stock, cartridge, suppressor, and/or frountmount, as well as on-the-barrel shields.
CON:
You can only swap out your weapons at set points in the game, and as far as I can tell, can't decide what your virtual buddy is packing.
PRO:
This results in interesting decisions, if you've already played the game, or interesting strategies if you haven't played the game and find yourself in a scenario in which your equipped weapons are not really the right tools for the job. However, you can swap your primary, secondary, or special weapon with your partner at any time.
CON:
I always forget that you can swap weapons with your partner.
PRO:
One of the character's lines when in "Overkill" mode is "Game over, man! Game over!".
CON:
People tend to swear a lot when they're getting shot at. This can be a put-off to some gamers.
PRO:
One of the achievements involves making like Dirty Harry.
CON:
Viewing the achievements leads to plot spoilers, such as purpose of the achievement that involves making like Dirty Harry.
PRO:
You probably saw that plot point coming from a mile away, anyways.
CONSENSUS:
Silly but fun.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Best Dialogue on TV Tonight
Heard on a repeat of Fringe:
"Well, it's like I always say: if the government's covering something up, it must be Tuesday."
Is a reference to: the famed UFO/weather balloon crash at Roswell. Apparently, the official government statement regarding the crash was released on a Tuesday.
I feel like I've heard this line somewhere else before, but can't place it. Can you?
"Well, it's like I always say: if the government's covering something up, it must be Tuesday."
Is a reference to: the famed UFO/weather balloon crash at Roswell. Apparently, the official government statement regarding the crash was released on a Tuesday.
I feel like I've heard this line somewhere else before, but can't place it. Can you?
Saturday, January 9, 2010
The Other Postman. Unleash the hounds.
Last night, I made one of the classic movie-watching blunders: forgetting that it is directors, not writers, who have the final say on the end product. Eric Roth and Brian Helgeland are excellent screenwriters, but when you're writing for a director whose primary obsessions are epic scenery, gratuitous and very realistic sex, and the American Civil War, there's only so much you can do to help.
The Postman, by David Brin, is one of the greatest reads ever. The Postman, directed by and starring Kevin Costner, is just a few steps shy of being sufficiently over the top to qualify as a Hapless Shitstorm, a genre coined by my friend Andre to describe Baz Luhrman's Australia. The Postman is not just a bad movie, it's an empty one. That's the best description I can come up with: empty. The Postman lives up to its legendary reputation for dullness and then some. Very little happens in its 178 minutes, which I suppose is an impressive feat in its own way. On top of that, Costner forced the story into an epic Civil War allegory, a baffling move that can best be described as a critical failure. Even if you don't take into account its source material and consider the film as a distinct story in its own right, it's still a story that doesn't make any sense. Ignoring everything that made Brin's story interesting, filled instead with said nonsensical allegory and lots and lots of scenery, and basically given the Paul Verhoeven treatment, a condition in which a director reads part of a great book and decides that it would be a way better story if he completely missed, ignored and/or discarded the book's theme, thesis, and message, and replaced it with his own, The Postman is as boring as it is pointless.
(Paul Verhoeven got hired to direct a film version of Robert A. Heinlein's Starship Troopers, by his own admission read only the prologue and thought it was too boring to read any further, and then went on to make what I would crown the king of Hapless Shitstorms (disclaimer: I have not seen Australia) whose cherry on top is the fact that its theme, message, and portrayal of the military are in every way the antithesis of Heinlein's. Costner's Postman is similar in structure, except that instead of being an antithesis, it's just more or less nothing at all. As I said, empty. I have no idea whether or not Costner read all of The Postman, but the film's content suggests that he never made it past chapter five.)
Avoid at all costs.
The Postman, by David Brin, is one of the greatest reads ever. The Postman, directed by and starring Kevin Costner, is just a few steps shy of being sufficiently over the top to qualify as a Hapless Shitstorm, a genre coined by my friend Andre to describe Baz Luhrman's Australia. The Postman is not just a bad movie, it's an empty one. That's the best description I can come up with: empty. The Postman lives up to its legendary reputation for dullness and then some. Very little happens in its 178 minutes, which I suppose is an impressive feat in its own way. On top of that, Costner forced the story into an epic Civil War allegory, a baffling move that can best be described as a critical failure. Even if you don't take into account its source material and consider the film as a distinct story in its own right, it's still a story that doesn't make any sense. Ignoring everything that made Brin's story interesting, filled instead with said nonsensical allegory and lots and lots of scenery, and basically given the Paul Verhoeven treatment, a condition in which a director reads part of a great book and decides that it would be a way better story if he completely missed, ignored and/or discarded the book's theme, thesis, and message, and replaced it with his own, The Postman is as boring as it is pointless.
(Paul Verhoeven got hired to direct a film version of Robert A. Heinlein's Starship Troopers, by his own admission read only the prologue and thought it was too boring to read any further, and then went on to make what I would crown the king of Hapless Shitstorms (disclaimer: I have not seen Australia) whose cherry on top is the fact that its theme, message, and portrayal of the military are in every way the antithesis of Heinlein's. Costner's Postman is similar in structure, except that instead of being an antithesis, it's just more or less nothing at all. As I said, empty. I have no idea whether or not Costner read all of The Postman, but the film's content suggests that he never made it past chapter five.)
Avoid at all costs.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Postman
About seven or eight months ago, I borrowed a copy of David Brin's The Postman from some friends, and for seven or eight months it gathered dust on my coffee table as I was putting off reading it. I borrowed it in the first place because I'm familiar with Hugo-winner Brin for Startide Rising, but avoided it because in my head I had him confused with David Weber (best known for the Honor Harrington series), who I'm not crazy about. In fact, I bought a Weber book at this year's library sale, because in my head I was buying a Brin novel. Confused? I know I am.
Anyways, the point is, I finally read it, and it is the finest post-apocalyptic sci-fi book - and one of the finest post-apocalyptic sci-fi stories - I've ever come across.
The Postman (1985) opens in U.S. of A., year 2009, sixteen years after a nuclear war that has left the country in a state very similar that of the Fallout video game series, with protagonist Gordon Krantz fleeing for his life while simultaneously trying to reclaim all his worldly possessions after his camp is attacked by "survivalists", roaming terrors who thrive on death, destruction, and mutilating corpses, and who I wouldn't be surprised to hear were the direct inspiration for Fallout's raiders. Just eighteen when the first of the wars began, he has survived the interim, including a three-year long nuclear winter, first by joining a short-lived militia in the early days of the war and later by using his brain and the skills he learned in the militia he wanders the country trading plays and stories for food and shelter at the settlements scattered across the mid-west, thus proving that English Literature 101 may be useful in the event of a nuclear apocalypse after all. After surviving the opening attack on his camp, but losing all his posessions - making him as good as dead, out in the wild - in the course of his escape he stumbles across a derelict jeep containing the fully uniformed body of a pre-war postman, along with a big sack of official government mail regarding what would later be referred to as the Doomwar. Gordon is deeply stricken by this unexpected and most familiar of links to better days, and the fact that the postman was most likely ambushed while trying to deliver his cargo but pressed on as long as he could in an attempt to preserve his country, bringing to mind the U.S. Postal Service Oath to deliver the mail no matter what. He's also delighted to have the postman's warm uniform, and so takes it and the mailbag and continues on his way. At the next settlement he comes across, the residents decide that, regardless of how he came by it, now that he's put on the postman's uniform he is a postman. Recognizing the potential of this course of action, Gordon decides to re-open lines of communication and build up hope, instituting post offices, mail routes, and carriers in each subsequent settlement he comes to and even as going so far as to forge documents "proving" that there is a government out east which is working on restoring America. As the baby postal service grows, and people actually start getting letters from friends and family they thought were long dead, their hope and belief in the rebuilding of the country grows with it. Making the lie even easier to believe is the reasonable assumption that the post would be the only sustainable, wide-reaching federal service to continue after a holocaust, as all it requires is people willing to travel. Gordon is determined to keep the hope alive, but the bulk of the story's tension is found in his constant nervous state of wondering about when his lie will be revealed, and if it will have been successful enough for that revelation to not make a difference to the people.
However, all that's just the setting. The true story of The Postman is a calm, thought out, well-constructed examination of why people need other people, and how it is impossible for an organization, be it town or country, to survive and succeed if run by or consisting of only one type of person or group. This is subtly emphasized by how different each settlement Gordon visits is, in its structure, leadership, attitudes, and practices, and more strongly emphasized by the almost overwhelmingly destructive force of the survivalists. Brin even manages to tactfully deconstruct one of the major and very sensitive real-life socio-political arguments of his time, though I imagine it would not be hard for a certain type of person to ignore everything else and claim The Postman as a feminist manifesto. It is because Brin is so calm that it could be very easy to ignore all the subtle elements that build the core of his message and cling to one of the stronger ones, but ultimately The Postman remains a powerful and successful argument for why no one ideological group can successfully rule or survive on its own.
On top of that, Brin's writing style is incredibly easy to engage. Casual and flowing, his voice in this book feels like a cross between late-50's-early 60's Robert A. Heinlein (Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land), late-90's Stephen King (Hearts in Atlantis, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon), and Harry Harrison (Make Room! Make Room!, the Stainless Steel Rat books) minus the hysterics. It opens well, it ends well, has a very reasonable take on the future which is our present, and contains one the most beautifully blunt foreshadowings I've come across. Packed with thoughts and visuals, The Postman somehow manages to never stop flowing, or even slow down. That to me is a most impressive accomplishment - that most famous of descriptive writers, Tolkien, wrote gorgeous visual paragraphs that are well worth taking the time to read, but generally stop the story dead. Brin's visuals are nowhere near as detailed as Tolkien's, but they are full and whole, and his world, protagonist, and secondary characters are both complete and engaging straight 'til the end.
I've never seen the 1997 Kevin Costner film based on this book, and have believed the rumours regarding its legendary dullness as the only Costner-directed film I have seen and enjoyed is 2003's Open Range. However, after reading The Postman, I'm now quite interested in its screen adaptation. Costner is a thinker, and I'd like to see his take on this story. Seeing that the screenplay was written by Brian Helegeland (L.A. Confidential, Conspiracy Theory) and Eric Roth (Munich, The Good Shepherd) more or less confirms that I'll be watching The Postman pretty soon.
In the meantime, I highly recommend The Postman as reading material, even if you've seen and hated the movie. It's a fantastic book, a smart story, and appears to have significantly influenced many aspects of Fallout 3, so if you enjoyed that series I can't think of a single reason why you won't enjoy this book. And if you hate video games with a passion, as some people dear to me do, I still can't think of a single reason why you won't consider The Postman to have been an excellent use of your time.
Anyways, the point is, I finally read it, and it is the finest post-apocalyptic sci-fi book - and one of the finest post-apocalyptic sci-fi stories - I've ever come across.
The Postman (1985) opens in U.S. of A., year 2009, sixteen years after a nuclear war that has left the country in a state very similar that of the Fallout video game series, with protagonist Gordon Krantz fleeing for his life while simultaneously trying to reclaim all his worldly possessions after his camp is attacked by "survivalists", roaming terrors who thrive on death, destruction, and mutilating corpses, and who I wouldn't be surprised to hear were the direct inspiration for Fallout's raiders. Just eighteen when the first of the wars began, he has survived the interim, including a three-year long nuclear winter, first by joining a short-lived militia in the early days of the war and later by using his brain and the skills he learned in the militia he wanders the country trading plays and stories for food and shelter at the settlements scattered across the mid-west, thus proving that English Literature 101 may be useful in the event of a nuclear apocalypse after all. After surviving the opening attack on his camp, but losing all his posessions - making him as good as dead, out in the wild - in the course of his escape he stumbles across a derelict jeep containing the fully uniformed body of a pre-war postman, along with a big sack of official government mail regarding what would later be referred to as the Doomwar. Gordon is deeply stricken by this unexpected and most familiar of links to better days, and the fact that the postman was most likely ambushed while trying to deliver his cargo but pressed on as long as he could in an attempt to preserve his country, bringing to mind the U.S. Postal Service Oath to deliver the mail no matter what. He's also delighted to have the postman's warm uniform, and so takes it and the mailbag and continues on his way. At the next settlement he comes across, the residents decide that, regardless of how he came by it, now that he's put on the postman's uniform he is a postman. Recognizing the potential of this course of action, Gordon decides to re-open lines of communication and build up hope, instituting post offices, mail routes, and carriers in each subsequent settlement he comes to and even as going so far as to forge documents "proving" that there is a government out east which is working on restoring America. As the baby postal service grows, and people actually start getting letters from friends and family they thought were long dead, their hope and belief in the rebuilding of the country grows with it. Making the lie even easier to believe is the reasonable assumption that the post would be the only sustainable, wide-reaching federal service to continue after a holocaust, as all it requires is people willing to travel. Gordon is determined to keep the hope alive, but the bulk of the story's tension is found in his constant nervous state of wondering about when his lie will be revealed, and if it will have been successful enough for that revelation to not make a difference to the people.
However, all that's just the setting. The true story of The Postman is a calm, thought out, well-constructed examination of why people need other people, and how it is impossible for an organization, be it town or country, to survive and succeed if run by or consisting of only one type of person or group. This is subtly emphasized by how different each settlement Gordon visits is, in its structure, leadership, attitudes, and practices, and more strongly emphasized by the almost overwhelmingly destructive force of the survivalists. Brin even manages to tactfully deconstruct one of the major and very sensitive real-life socio-political arguments of his time, though I imagine it would not be hard for a certain type of person to ignore everything else and claim The Postman as a feminist manifesto. It is because Brin is so calm that it could be very easy to ignore all the subtle elements that build the core of his message and cling to one of the stronger ones, but ultimately The Postman remains a powerful and successful argument for why no one ideological group can successfully rule or survive on its own.
On top of that, Brin's writing style is incredibly easy to engage. Casual and flowing, his voice in this book feels like a cross between late-50's-early 60's Robert A. Heinlein (Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land), late-90's Stephen King (Hearts in Atlantis, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon), and Harry Harrison (Make Room! Make Room!, the Stainless Steel Rat books) minus the hysterics. It opens well, it ends well, has a very reasonable take on the future which is our present, and contains one the most beautifully blunt foreshadowings I've come across. Packed with thoughts and visuals, The Postman somehow manages to never stop flowing, or even slow down. That to me is a most impressive accomplishment - that most famous of descriptive writers, Tolkien, wrote gorgeous visual paragraphs that are well worth taking the time to read, but generally stop the story dead. Brin's visuals are nowhere near as detailed as Tolkien's, but they are full and whole, and his world, protagonist, and secondary characters are both complete and engaging straight 'til the end.
I've never seen the 1997 Kevin Costner film based on this book, and have believed the rumours regarding its legendary dullness as the only Costner-directed film I have seen and enjoyed is 2003's Open Range. However, after reading The Postman, I'm now quite interested in its screen adaptation. Costner is a thinker, and I'd like to see his take on this story. Seeing that the screenplay was written by Brian Helegeland (L.A. Confidential, Conspiracy Theory) and Eric Roth (Munich, The Good Shepherd) more or less confirms that I'll be watching The Postman pretty soon.
In the meantime, I highly recommend The Postman as reading material, even if you've seen and hated the movie. It's a fantastic book, a smart story, and appears to have significantly influenced many aspects of Fallout 3, so if you enjoyed that series I can't think of a single reason why you won't enjoy this book. And if you hate video games with a passion, as some people dear to me do, I still can't think of a single reason why you won't consider The Postman to have been an excellent use of your time.
Two Gentlemen of Lebowski
Much thanks to the crew at EW.com's Popwatch blog for bringing this to my attention. Warning: will only be appreciated by those who have seen and enjoyed the Cohen brother's cult bowling-noir classic The Big Lebowski.
The Gift That Keeps On Giving
...Is, in this case, J.J. Abram's Star Trek. We won a copy at Corey's company Christmas party, much to our delight. Cor's co-worker, our friend Tim, would have liked that particular door prize, but we all knew it would be borrowed anyways so it's all good. Then, I enacted our plan to buy my mother-in-law a copy of that same movie for Christmas. And then, on Christmas day, I opened a present from that same mother-in-law, and tucked away beneath Kung-Fu Panda, Up, and Keith Green's greatest hits lay...
Well, guess what we got Tim for Christmas this year!
:D
Well, guess what we got Tim for Christmas this year!
:D
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