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.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
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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