A couple of days before going to see this movie, I had the misfortune of having the entire thing spoiled for me in an online forum. One effect of that was to work harder to clearly indicate when I would be giving spoiler information about books and movies. The other was to make me very scared. It seems things are moving along in the Indiana Jones universe. As much as we might like, we cannot randomly return to the setting of these adventures and expect Indy to always be in his 30s and fighting the good fight. If this were a book or comic series, it would be easy to shoe-horn stories between existing adventures. But actors get older and trying to use make-up or CGI to make them appear far younger for the length of an entire movie is, among other things, too depressing to conceive.
It's clear from the outset that the wheel has turned. No longer is Indy dealing with Nazis or unscrupulous collectors—the enemy this time is the Soviet Union and all the evil they signified in 1957. And pretty early on, we can see that there is a shift in the danger Indy faces as well, as KGB agents led by Cate Blanchett break into America's warehouse of weirdness for a specific object, while ignoring the Ark of the Covenant, the centerpiece of the movie that got all the attention. No longer is mysticism the focus of Indy's work; it is technology that turns the world now, and the Russians wants what we have. If this isn't clear enough, the first extended chase scene is closed with the 20th century's worst nightmare, the explosion of an atomic bomb. The faces of mannequins burn off in a subtle allusion to the close of Raiders of the Lost Ark, when that same Ark melts the faces of Nazis who presume too much.
Unfortunately, the story has to deal with the years since we last saw Indy. We find out that he fought for the OSS in World War II, continuing his escapades and receiving may honors for them. This is not enough, however, to keep the taint of the red scare from him; since he has now dealt with KGB agents, the CIA has no way of ensuring his loyalty and so they black-list him. On his way to his new job, he is found by Mutt Williams (Shia LaBeouf) who has come to him at his mother's direction to enlist Indy to rescue her from her kidnappers (that it is the same KGB agents really comes as no surprise). And off they go to the Amazon (completing another interesting circle with the opening of the first movie) to find Mutt's mother and friend.
What follows is the standard series of adventures based on the slimmest of clues. While Indy is once again brilliant in his deduction, it becomes painfully obvious that he is pretty clueless about people. This is not a side of him with which we are familiar: we know he is focused when on an adventure, but he is actually written to be pretty obtuse about personal matters here. It's not really a problem—more of a quirk—and his lack of deduction allows major reveals to come as surprises to some of the audience. The storytelling is wonderfully fun, hearkening back to the set pieces that were so exciting in the earlier films. And the CGI work is breathtaking, in a much more understated way than in most summer blockbusters. Unfortunately those set pieces skew a little close to earlier works of Lucas and Spielberg, enough to actually become something of a distraction, but not enough to ruin the movie for me.
What I find most interesting is the clamor against the general direction of the conclusion of the adventure. To be hoest, it was this that had me worried when it was spoiled for me. But all I can say is that it works for me. I would have preferred something in the tenor of the first three films, but I understand why the movie went where it went, so long as the movie is considered as the end of a generation. Again, paranormal is replaced with technology. At one point Indy mourns his father and companion Marcus, while at another he reminisces about his adventures as a child (a nice reference to the unfairly ignored series, Young Indiana Jones). The movie concludes with a new day dawning, both in the general thrust of the adventures of Indy and in his personal life. The door has been closed on a chapter of history and culture marches on.
Harrison Ford is stalwart as Indy, fitting back into the role much as into a pair of comfortable slippers. LaBoeuf is solid as Mutt, a young man who has interesting traits that make him something more than the standard sidekick. Karen Allen is also good in her return as Marian Ravenwood. Blanchett chews the scenery nicely as the lead KGB agent with an interest in unexplainable phenomenon. It is clear that the door remains open for a new series of films featuring Mutt, but it is my hope that they are never made. The series has progressed from the classic 30s and 40s serials to the campy B-grade science fiction movies of the 50s and early 60s. It is a natural progression and Mutt a fine character for them. But the focus of the series has been Indy, and he has entered a more relaxed place in his life—including a cushy new position. The potential for further adventures for him is apparent, but the character is only going to get older and become something of a self-mockery. I'm fine with the place that the series ends up.
Now if they want to figure out a way to tell some of the stories of Indy in the OSS, that would be something worth seeing.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Speed Racer
I'm having a hard time coming up with a review of this movie. The discussion of it I have seen has been nearly universally negative, with the notable exception of At the Movies with Ebert and Roeper. When I tell people that I went to see Speed Racer, the response has generally been fear and concern for my well-being. And yet, I really enjoyed the film and find myself feeling really defensive about it.
First off, there's the plot. You don't have to know anything about the Racer family to get into the movie. Everything is explained in a nice series of interspersed racing moments and flashbacks in the first fifteen minutes. The Racer family builds and races cars, Speed is obsessed with racing as a child and grows up to become one of the world's best race car drivers, and something mysterious happened to his older brother Rex whom Speed nearly worshipped. I have some quibbles with how the fortunes of the world's finances seem to depend on the outcome of races, but I understand the conceit as it is described. I'm willing to let it go as partial hyperbole from a narrator who is too close to the action. And I can also shrug it off as a future world where I don't know the details of the inner workings. I just accept it, recognizing it as the lynchpin that the movie is based upon and then move on.
Eventually Speed's family is threatened by the evil corporations and he fights back in the only way he knows—by racing them. And those race scenes are a whole lot of fun. It's a little jarring to find that Speed usually races I the Mach 6 while the Mach 5 is his personal vehicle, but it makes sense within the story. Most of the time, Speed races on tracks, so the Mach 6 doesn't have any gadgetry other than the jacks—and in this movie, all of the race cars have those jacks. But when Speed sneaks off to race in a road rally, the Mach 5 is modified to contain all the cool gear that we remember from the cartoon. Each device is deployed at least once, except for the remote controlled camera hawk, which actually was my favorite gadget from the show. And their use is ingenious and fun.
As for the actors, I think they do a really strong job giving life to the fairly flat personalities from the animated series. John Goodman, Susan Sarandon, and Matthew Fox just shine as Pops and Mom Racer and Racer X, perfectly carrying off the caricatures and expanding them as far as the plot will allow them to grow. Christina Ricci lights up the screen as Trixie, though she is underused in the story. Paulie Litt embodies the annoying little brother, Spritle, really well, and his chemistry with his monkey Chim-chim, is dead on as well. Roger Allam just chews the scenery as the diabolical Royalton, and it works because this is a movie of excess. The worst performance in the bunch was Emile Hirsch as Speed. His delivery is flat throughout, showing very little emotion about anything, even when he is supposed to be extremely angry or happy. Nicholas Elia, who plays Speed in the flashbacks, shows a lot more range in his acting than we ever see from Hirsch.
As for the rest, it is eye candy. The scenes are filled with vibrant color and motion, making it clear this is about movement. The cinematography is fun, using interesting methods for scene cuts, and moving camera angles. And the race scenes are just over the top, pushing CGI to its current limits and probably expanding the technology such that what we see here will be commonplace in the future. The races are thrilling, even if they defy the laws of physics, but I didn't come to this movie expecting realism. Generally the events in the races are easy to follow, despite the jump cuts, flying camera angles and brilliant flashes of light and color. In fact, I understood those scenes better than I could figure out the fight scenes in Transformers.
And so I don't know why Speed Racer is being panned. It never promised to be a sweeping drama about the life of a young race car driver. It is a fine adaptation of a childhood favorite, almost slavishly following the storylines and themes of the animated show. It never felt to me that it had any pretense of being other than what it was, and it turns out to be a whole lot of fun. I think kids would just fall in love with it, especially with Spritle and Chim-chim, and adults who were fond of the show really don't have any reason to complain. Even adults just looking for escape should enjoy it. I don't feel any compulsion to see it again, but I'm really glad I did see it, on the big screen and with digital sound, before it unfortunately is relegated to half-price movie theaters. I'd recommend it to anyone, but they should try to see it before it gets away.
First off, there's the plot. You don't have to know anything about the Racer family to get into the movie. Everything is explained in a nice series of interspersed racing moments and flashbacks in the first fifteen minutes. The Racer family builds and races cars, Speed is obsessed with racing as a child and grows up to become one of the world's best race car drivers, and something mysterious happened to his older brother Rex whom Speed nearly worshipped. I have some quibbles with how the fortunes of the world's finances seem to depend on the outcome of races, but I understand the conceit as it is described. I'm willing to let it go as partial hyperbole from a narrator who is too close to the action. And I can also shrug it off as a future world where I don't know the details of the inner workings. I just accept it, recognizing it as the lynchpin that the movie is based upon and then move on.
Eventually Speed's family is threatened by the evil corporations and he fights back in the only way he knows—by racing them. And those race scenes are a whole lot of fun. It's a little jarring to find that Speed usually races I the Mach 6 while the Mach 5 is his personal vehicle, but it makes sense within the story. Most of the time, Speed races on tracks, so the Mach 6 doesn't have any gadgetry other than the jacks—and in this movie, all of the race cars have those jacks. But when Speed sneaks off to race in a road rally, the Mach 5 is modified to contain all the cool gear that we remember from the cartoon. Each device is deployed at least once, except for the remote controlled camera hawk, which actually was my favorite gadget from the show. And their use is ingenious and fun.
As for the actors, I think they do a really strong job giving life to the fairly flat personalities from the animated series. John Goodman, Susan Sarandon, and Matthew Fox just shine as Pops and Mom Racer and Racer X, perfectly carrying off the caricatures and expanding them as far as the plot will allow them to grow. Christina Ricci lights up the screen as Trixie, though she is underused in the story. Paulie Litt embodies the annoying little brother, Spritle, really well, and his chemistry with his monkey Chim-chim, is dead on as well. Roger Allam just chews the scenery as the diabolical Royalton, and it works because this is a movie of excess. The worst performance in the bunch was Emile Hirsch as Speed. His delivery is flat throughout, showing very little emotion about anything, even when he is supposed to be extremely angry or happy. Nicholas Elia, who plays Speed in the flashbacks, shows a lot more range in his acting than we ever see from Hirsch.
As for the rest, it is eye candy. The scenes are filled with vibrant color and motion, making it clear this is about movement. The cinematography is fun, using interesting methods for scene cuts, and moving camera angles. And the race scenes are just over the top, pushing CGI to its current limits and probably expanding the technology such that what we see here will be commonplace in the future. The races are thrilling, even if they defy the laws of physics, but I didn't come to this movie expecting realism. Generally the events in the races are easy to follow, despite the jump cuts, flying camera angles and brilliant flashes of light and color. In fact, I understood those scenes better than I could figure out the fight scenes in Transformers.
And so I don't know why Speed Racer is being panned. It never promised to be a sweeping drama about the life of a young race car driver. It is a fine adaptation of a childhood favorite, almost slavishly following the storylines and themes of the animated show. It never felt to me that it had any pretense of being other than what it was, and it turns out to be a whole lot of fun. I think kids would just fall in love with it, especially with Spritle and Chim-chim, and adults who were fond of the show really don't have any reason to complain. Even adults just looking for escape should enjoy it. I don't feel any compulsion to see it again, but I'm really glad I did see it, on the big screen and with digital sound, before it unfortunately is relegated to half-price movie theaters. I'd recommend it to anyone, but they should try to see it before it gets away.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Comics for 14 May
There was enough interesting stuff last week that I’m going to write about a weeks’ worth of comics. I feel very tentative about this for some reason, as though I’ve fallen out of practice.
Spoilers ho!
Batman 676 – R.I.P. begins with this issue, and typical of Morrison, we’re introduced to a grand spate of characters that are unfamiliar, calling themselves the Black Glove and led by Doctor Hurt. I don’t know that any of them have appeared in any of Morrison’s stories to this point, but they are setting up what they call the Dance of Death for Batman. The writing is generally quite good, spending time with Batman and Robin in pursuit of another failed costumed villain before returning home. We find that Bruce Wayne and Jezebel Jet are an item now, and that she knows his secret identity and appears willing to accept it, even talking to him about the time when Batman’s mission is complete, including his ability to recognize it being done. At the same time, Robin and Alfred have a very discerning conversation about the emotional roller coaster Batman appears to be on, and the state of the Batman family. It’s actually fairly touching to see something like a familial moment here, and Alfred is written particularly well—stalwart and compassionate at the same time.
But when the Joker gets introduced to the mix in what feels in some ways like a four-page coda to the main story, things get all garbled up. I’ve read those four pages probably twenty times trying to figure out what is going on and where we are, and while I have some ideas, there is nothing to firmly answer my questions. Perhaps more will be revealed in the next issues—and solicitations make it clear that Joker plays a vital part in this story—but my experience with Morrison and the unanswered questions awaiting responses is that they really get answered. It’s no help that Tony Daniel’s art, strong throughout the issue, is especially compelling in these pages, but it doesn’t help to answer the questions that he pages raise.
It’s a strong start to what is supposed to be the most important storyline in years for Batman (this time everything changes!), but I admit to being a little pessimistic, both in the successful completion of this story and its place in the Batman canon at large.
Titans 2 – If you’re going to bring back the Titans, there really is no better way to do it than by bringing Trigon back as well. Writer Judd Winick is weaving an interesting story of revenge, as Trigon aims to settle the score with the Titans. Raven returns to her home dimension to suss who is attacking the Titans, while the rest of the team at first rescues another captured titan and then waits for the results of Raven’s sussing—results which arrive fairly explosively and with a big reveal. The story has potential, a lot of it actually, especially for true Titans fans.
Unfortunately, there are two glaring weaknesses. First, the art is horrible. I don’t recall any art specifically from Joe Benitez anywhere else—which I consider a good thing; while not good enough to stand out, it also wasn’t bad enough to stand out. But this is really bad stuff; all of the characters look like Stretch Armstrong caricatures, all drawn out and thin. I swear the model for Flash is Plastic Man, especially when we first see him with a jaunty pose Wally has never affected before. But as bad as the men are, the women are far far worse, with wide expanses of forehead leading to tight faces taking up very little space on the front of the head. It’s just not enjoyable to look at.
Secondly, Winick is failing massively at finding the voice of the Titans. They are more than friends; they are family, each with their own voice but with all sorts of embedded connections. What Winick has, written, however seems like a loose confederation of allies coming together to fight a common cause. Especially telling is the portrayal of Gar Logan, Beast Boy, as some sort of comic prop. In the past, he has been the comic figure, but he has grown past that in recent years and stories. Winick writes him as if he was 12 years old again and generally stupider than he actually was at that age. It’s grating and distracting from what could be a cool story.
I’m going to keep reading this for a bit, just because it is the Titans, but these two issues are enough to make me drop the title soon if they don’t get fixed, no matter the potential of a good Titans story. (And this morning, having seen the cover for Titans 5, I’m not optimistic…).
Wonder Woman 20 – I think I have made no bones about how much I like Gail Simone. And now she has gone something unexpected, reaching back into DC’s fantasy past, bringing back characters that I have found to be filled with unrealized potential from the DC implosion. With this issue, Wonder Woman meets Stalker and Beowulf, with hints that we are going to see Claw as well. Simone’s characterization of the implosion characters feels dead on, and she uses them to insert Wonder Woman in a fantasy world with gods and magic, which to be honest often feels like it is where she should be most often. I’m delighted with this first part of the story and looking forward to how it plays out. And Aaron Lopresti turns in some really strong art work to go with the story, especially in close-ups of characters’ faces.
And some related Gail Simone news--convention reports indicate she will be doing an ongoing Secret Six series, with art by one of my favorites, Nicola Scott. Huzzah!
Spoilers ho!
Batman 676 – R.I.P. begins with this issue, and typical of Morrison, we’re introduced to a grand spate of characters that are unfamiliar, calling themselves the Black Glove and led by Doctor Hurt. I don’t know that any of them have appeared in any of Morrison’s stories to this point, but they are setting up what they call the Dance of Death for Batman. The writing is generally quite good, spending time with Batman and Robin in pursuit of another failed costumed villain before returning home. We find that Bruce Wayne and Jezebel Jet are an item now, and that she knows his secret identity and appears willing to accept it, even talking to him about the time when Batman’s mission is complete, including his ability to recognize it being done. At the same time, Robin and Alfred have a very discerning conversation about the emotional roller coaster Batman appears to be on, and the state of the Batman family. It’s actually fairly touching to see something like a familial moment here, and Alfred is written particularly well—stalwart and compassionate at the same time.
But when the Joker gets introduced to the mix in what feels in some ways like a four-page coda to the main story, things get all garbled up. I’ve read those four pages probably twenty times trying to figure out what is going on and where we are, and while I have some ideas, there is nothing to firmly answer my questions. Perhaps more will be revealed in the next issues—and solicitations make it clear that Joker plays a vital part in this story—but my experience with Morrison and the unanswered questions awaiting responses is that they really get answered. It’s no help that Tony Daniel’s art, strong throughout the issue, is especially compelling in these pages, but it doesn’t help to answer the questions that he pages raise.
It’s a strong start to what is supposed to be the most important storyline in years for Batman (this time everything changes!), but I admit to being a little pessimistic, both in the successful completion of this story and its place in the Batman canon at large.
Titans 2 – If you’re going to bring back the Titans, there really is no better way to do it than by bringing Trigon back as well. Writer Judd Winick is weaving an interesting story of revenge, as Trigon aims to settle the score with the Titans. Raven returns to her home dimension to suss who is attacking the Titans, while the rest of the team at first rescues another captured titan and then waits for the results of Raven’s sussing—results which arrive fairly explosively and with a big reveal. The story has potential, a lot of it actually, especially for true Titans fans.
Unfortunately, there are two glaring weaknesses. First, the art is horrible. I don’t recall any art specifically from Joe Benitez anywhere else—which I consider a good thing; while not good enough to stand out, it also wasn’t bad enough to stand out. But this is really bad stuff; all of the characters look like Stretch Armstrong caricatures, all drawn out and thin. I swear the model for Flash is Plastic Man, especially when we first see him with a jaunty pose Wally has never affected before. But as bad as the men are, the women are far far worse, with wide expanses of forehead leading to tight faces taking up very little space on the front of the head. It’s just not enjoyable to look at.
Secondly, Winick is failing massively at finding the voice of the Titans. They are more than friends; they are family, each with their own voice but with all sorts of embedded connections. What Winick has, written, however seems like a loose confederation of allies coming together to fight a common cause. Especially telling is the portrayal of Gar Logan, Beast Boy, as some sort of comic prop. In the past, he has been the comic figure, but he has grown past that in recent years and stories. Winick writes him as if he was 12 years old again and generally stupider than he actually was at that age. It’s grating and distracting from what could be a cool story.
I’m going to keep reading this for a bit, just because it is the Titans, but these two issues are enough to make me drop the title soon if they don’t get fixed, no matter the potential of a good Titans story. (And this morning, having seen the cover for Titans 5, I’m not optimistic…).
Wonder Woman 20 – I think I have made no bones about how much I like Gail Simone. And now she has gone something unexpected, reaching back into DC’s fantasy past, bringing back characters that I have found to be filled with unrealized potential from the DC implosion. With this issue, Wonder Woman meets Stalker and Beowulf, with hints that we are going to see Claw as well. Simone’s characterization of the implosion characters feels dead on, and she uses them to insert Wonder Woman in a fantasy world with gods and magic, which to be honest often feels like it is where she should be most often. I’m delighted with this first part of the story and looking forward to how it plays out. And Aaron Lopresti turns in some really strong art work to go with the story, especially in close-ups of characters’ faces.
And some related Gail Simone news--convention reports indicate she will be doing an ongoing Secret Six series, with art by one of my favorites, Nicola Scott. Huzzah!
Once, a postscript
Mrs. Speculator and I went to see Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova last week. It was by far one of the best concerts I have ever been to. I’ve found over time that smaller venues are really great for concerts, and they seem to invoke something from the performer to be in such an intimate setting. I know this is pretty much an axiom of performance, but I really have not been to many small venues before. While the concert hall where they performed is not tiny, it only holds maybe 1500 people, if that, and they are close to the stage on three sides. At one point, Hansard looked up to see a balcony of people looking down on him from his right and whirled to find even more in a similar position on his left. At first he seemed taken aback, then he bobbed his head and repeated what appears to be his personal refrain, “Cool.”
I’m trying very hard not to focus on Hansard, though it is pretty clear that he is the driving force behind the band’s work. Irglova seems to be a steadying influence on the band, and after nearly every song, Hansard moves to her side to speak to her. And she has a wonderful ethereal voice that perfectly matches his grounded earthy tones, which still range from low growling to musical shrieks beyond the range of most men not named Steve Perry. But the concert also clearly puts the focus on Hansard—he is the front man and the speaker, as well as the lead singer on most of the songs. And one delightful aspect of him came out as well—the man is a storyteller, which may be the cause or effect of the style of his music. The spaces between each song are filled with Hansard’s story-telling and commentary on his daily life on the road. He spoke intimately with an audience of 1500, making it feel like a performance for a couple of hundred. It may be a very polished act, but it feels like someone you could sit down with and chat for hours—and by the end of the concert I found I really wanted to.
The music itself was marvelous, mixing as it did songs from the soundtrack to Once, songs from their first album and their forthcoming new one, as well as some from Hansard’s original group, the Frames. For good measure, he threw in some Pixies and Van Morrison as well. Irglova played the piano except for a couple of songs where she played acoustic guitar, and there was an instrumental piece as well featuring their violinist, who has released his own CD (and sadly, this was the one place Hansard’s accent really was unintelligible—and with good reason, his name is Colm Mac Con Iomaire). At one point, Hansard brought the stage manager out to play a song as well, and it was clear they had practiced together, as the entire band took part in an American folk song.
And if you haven’t heard the music yet…well, you’ve missed out. I find it described generally as alternative, but I still have no idea what that means. What amazes me is the eclectic mix of genres, from Celtic roots to classical to AC/DC. A lot of his songs are mixes that are inspired, going places that I would not have been able to predict but filled with emotional intensity. A couple of them make me weep at every listening. And this says nothing about his lyrics, which verge (and sometimes fall into) the utterly poetic, well-suited to the instrumentation.
And clearly, between his conversations with his audience, sometimes beseeching their input to him, and the powerful music, he has reached an audience. The one we were a part of were amazed and exuberant, feeding him support and him returning his stories and music, creating a perfect circle of artistic endeavor. There’s no way I can’t go see them again, whenever I can—and while they have taken off on the European leg of their tour, I cannot recommend highly enough that any fan of good music or simple powerful storytelling find a way to see them whenever possible.
I’m trying very hard not to focus on Hansard, though it is pretty clear that he is the driving force behind the band’s work. Irglova seems to be a steadying influence on the band, and after nearly every song, Hansard moves to her side to speak to her. And she has a wonderful ethereal voice that perfectly matches his grounded earthy tones, which still range from low growling to musical shrieks beyond the range of most men not named Steve Perry. But the concert also clearly puts the focus on Hansard—he is the front man and the speaker, as well as the lead singer on most of the songs. And one delightful aspect of him came out as well—the man is a storyteller, which may be the cause or effect of the style of his music. The spaces between each song are filled with Hansard’s story-telling and commentary on his daily life on the road. He spoke intimately with an audience of 1500, making it feel like a performance for a couple of hundred. It may be a very polished act, but it feels like someone you could sit down with and chat for hours—and by the end of the concert I found I really wanted to.
The music itself was marvelous, mixing as it did songs from the soundtrack to Once, songs from their first album and their forthcoming new one, as well as some from Hansard’s original group, the Frames. For good measure, he threw in some Pixies and Van Morrison as well. Irglova played the piano except for a couple of songs where she played acoustic guitar, and there was an instrumental piece as well featuring their violinist, who has released his own CD (and sadly, this was the one place Hansard’s accent really was unintelligible—and with good reason, his name is Colm Mac Con Iomaire). At one point, Hansard brought the stage manager out to play a song as well, and it was clear they had practiced together, as the entire band took part in an American folk song.
And if you haven’t heard the music yet…well, you’ve missed out. I find it described generally as alternative, but I still have no idea what that means. What amazes me is the eclectic mix of genres, from Celtic roots to classical to AC/DC. A lot of his songs are mixes that are inspired, going places that I would not have been able to predict but filled with emotional intensity. A couple of them make me weep at every listening. And this says nothing about his lyrics, which verge (and sometimes fall into) the utterly poetic, well-suited to the instrumentation.
And clearly, between his conversations with his audience, sometimes beseeching their input to him, and the powerful music, he has reached an audience. The one we were a part of were amazed and exuberant, feeding him support and him returning his stories and music, creating a perfect circle of artistic endeavor. There’s no way I can’t go see them again, whenever I can—and while they have taken off on the European leg of their tour, I cannot recommend highly enough that any fan of good music or simple powerful storytelling find a way to see them whenever possible.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Northwest of Earth
Last November, after finishing Black God's Kiss, I searched for more books from C. L. Moore, especially ones being published by Planet Stories. Fortunately, Northwest of Earth was soon to be in print, featuring stories of Northwest Smith, a more planetary romance type of character than Jirel of Joiry. One of the short stories in Black God's Kiss, "The Quest of the Star Stone" was a cross-over of sorts between Jirel and Northwest, so I had some exposure to him as a character. After a delay in publication, Northwest of Earth arrived, and I was excited to find this blurb on the back: "Science Fiction's Original Outlaw!" Considering that most of the stories in the book were published between 1933 and 1936, I thought this could be true and dug into the stories.
The first story in the collection, and the first Northwest story to see publication, is "Shambleau," a fascinating reconsideration of the Medusa story. I don't feel like this is much of a spoiler for two reasons: the story begins with a stream of consciousness-like consideration of Greek mythology, and the cover of the book has a painting from "Shambleau," itself spoiling what might have otherwise been the big reveal. "Shambleau" is perhaps the strongest story in the collection, which is a delightful recollection of the best the pulp era had to offer. Most of the things I had to say about Black God's Kiss would be repeated here: lovely, perhaps florid prose; engaging scenarios; just a wonderful read, if you have that sort of leaning.
But one of the negative comments I made about the earlier book is also true in this case: the protagonist doesn't do very much in his own stories. Northwest Smith does little but survive the encounter that is the centerpiece of each story. The general pattern is falling into association with someone disreputable and perhaps a little…off…, setting off to perform a task for them, and getting sucked into a weird universe that is only tangentially related to the one Northwest is from. Given the few descriptions of that original universe, Northwest appears to come from a place that is stereotypical of the great planetary romances: Earth is a super-advanced paradise with floating buildings and helicopters used as the primary means of transportation; Venus is a swampy, muggy forest planet with weird and hidden cultures hiding in the jungles; and Mars is a desert planet with the ruins of long-dead civilizations being uncovered by human settlers. This more closely aligns with the image I have in my mind of the golden age of pulp.
But Northwest rarely acts in these settings. He might go through them to get to a destination, but then he usually finds himself transported to another place, more evocative of the work of Lovecraft for the sheer creepy weirdness of its inhabitants. Then it is Northwest's task to merely survive and escape the clutches of these weird and sometimes godlike beings as the narrator offers layered description after layered description of not only the surroundings Northwest finds himself in but also his internal conflict. So, to say these stories are science fiction actually goes against my personal definition of science fiction, since there is no science at all and these exotic locales can be interchanged with mindscapes (and sometimes they are) or lands of wonder in a fantasy setting.
In fact, Northwest rarely acts at all, sometimes escaping by his own dumb luck or oftentimes because of the intervention of some third party. Usually he moves through the stories with no more idea what is happening to him than the reader, which is fine since he is the viewpoint through which we see the stories, but there is no authorial omniscience displayed at all. We learn as Northwest does, stumbling through foggy dimensions or through smoky hallways, usually never finding out all the details of how we got to where we are. Looking back at the jacket blurb, "Science Fiction's Original Outlaw" is a bit ironic, because the character Northwest has a reputation among his peers in the stories, but we never get to see anything that could have led to this reputation. People fear him, but none of those adventures, which could at least be defined as tangentially science fiction, appear to exist. Instead it is all trapping as we follow one of the solar system's most feared outlaws again and again into situations well beyond his control.
I feel like I might be overstating my point here, but it really is a quibble and an observation on an otherwise wonderful read, again especially if you are interested in good pulp writing. All of the stories feature such strong atmospheric descriptions, the reader easily becomes lost in the words and totally immersed in the settings. Another story I found to be very strong (And actually more science fiction-y than the others, but I Think that is not a cause of my liking it) was "Lost Paradise" concerning a race of people living in the Andes who, it turns out, are evacuees from another great civilization in the solar system. Their tragedy is a strong background to the events of the story, which takes a twist at the end which may a little predictable to modern readers and movie-goers, but was probably stunning to its readers in 1936.
Actually, if I do have a complaint about the book, it's that the aforementioned crossover story, "The Quest of the Starstone" is repeated in Northwest of Earth. I understand the rationale for it, was saddened to pay for another copy of a story in another collection. But, given the minor nature of this complaint and its utter selfishness, you should be able to tell that I am grasping at straws to find something bad to say about the book.
The first story in the collection, and the first Northwest story to see publication, is "Shambleau," a fascinating reconsideration of the Medusa story. I don't feel like this is much of a spoiler for two reasons: the story begins with a stream of consciousness-like consideration of Greek mythology, and the cover of the book has a painting from "Shambleau," itself spoiling what might have otherwise been the big reveal. "Shambleau" is perhaps the strongest story in the collection, which is a delightful recollection of the best the pulp era had to offer. Most of the things I had to say about Black God's Kiss would be repeated here: lovely, perhaps florid prose; engaging scenarios; just a wonderful read, if you have that sort of leaning.
But one of the negative comments I made about the earlier book is also true in this case: the protagonist doesn't do very much in his own stories. Northwest Smith does little but survive the encounter that is the centerpiece of each story. The general pattern is falling into association with someone disreputable and perhaps a little…off…, setting off to perform a task for them, and getting sucked into a weird universe that is only tangentially related to the one Northwest is from. Given the few descriptions of that original universe, Northwest appears to come from a place that is stereotypical of the great planetary romances: Earth is a super-advanced paradise with floating buildings and helicopters used as the primary means of transportation; Venus is a swampy, muggy forest planet with weird and hidden cultures hiding in the jungles; and Mars is a desert planet with the ruins of long-dead civilizations being uncovered by human settlers. This more closely aligns with the image I have in my mind of the golden age of pulp.
But Northwest rarely acts in these settings. He might go through them to get to a destination, but then he usually finds himself transported to another place, more evocative of the work of Lovecraft for the sheer creepy weirdness of its inhabitants. Then it is Northwest's task to merely survive and escape the clutches of these weird and sometimes godlike beings as the narrator offers layered description after layered description of not only the surroundings Northwest finds himself in but also his internal conflict. So, to say these stories are science fiction actually goes against my personal definition of science fiction, since there is no science at all and these exotic locales can be interchanged with mindscapes (and sometimes they are) or lands of wonder in a fantasy setting.
In fact, Northwest rarely acts at all, sometimes escaping by his own dumb luck or oftentimes because of the intervention of some third party. Usually he moves through the stories with no more idea what is happening to him than the reader, which is fine since he is the viewpoint through which we see the stories, but there is no authorial omniscience displayed at all. We learn as Northwest does, stumbling through foggy dimensions or through smoky hallways, usually never finding out all the details of how we got to where we are. Looking back at the jacket blurb, "Science Fiction's Original Outlaw" is a bit ironic, because the character Northwest has a reputation among his peers in the stories, but we never get to see anything that could have led to this reputation. People fear him, but none of those adventures, which could at least be defined as tangentially science fiction, appear to exist. Instead it is all trapping as we follow one of the solar system's most feared outlaws again and again into situations well beyond his control.
I feel like I might be overstating my point here, but it really is a quibble and an observation on an otherwise wonderful read, again especially if you are interested in good pulp writing. All of the stories feature such strong atmospheric descriptions, the reader easily becomes lost in the words and totally immersed in the settings. Another story I found to be very strong (And actually more science fiction-y than the others, but I Think that is not a cause of my liking it) was "Lost Paradise" concerning a race of people living in the Andes who, it turns out, are evacuees from another great civilization in the solar system. Their tragedy is a strong background to the events of the story, which takes a twist at the end which may a little predictable to modern readers and movie-goers, but was probably stunning to its readers in 1936.
Actually, if I do have a complaint about the book, it's that the aforementioned crossover story, "The Quest of the Starstone" is repeated in Northwest of Earth. I understand the rationale for it, was saddened to pay for another copy of a story in another collection. But, given the minor nature of this complaint and its utter selfishness, you should be able to tell that I am grasping at straws to find something bad to say about the book.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Iron Man
I'm not a Marvel guy—somehow I was only exposed to DC and became a DC-head. Since I was always interested in the golden age DC heroes and they had something of a continuity with their modern heroes, so every now and again I could catch up on the old guys I so admired from DC. As I've matured (?) and considered some of life's seminal questions, I've pondered the differences between DC and Marvel; one of my favorite theories is that Marvel is a giant soap opera, spending more time dealing with the interpersonal relationships of its characters while DC's stories are usually big mysteries. Whatever the cause, given my real exposure to comics was when Marvel's X-titles exploded and you had to read 10 comics a month just to keep up with what was happening in that world, I never really got into them.
(In the interest of full disclosure, I have been reading the Ultimate line, originally so I could get a condensed history of the Marvel continuity with a modern perspective. I've thoroughly enjoyed them. I also read almost the entirety of Peter David's run on The Incredible Hulk, just because I love his writing. But that's been about it.)
But I have been fascinated by the idea of some Marvel characters. For instance, the Jekyll and Hyde aspect of the Hulk has always been interesting to me, though I expect a lot of that has gotten played out over the life of the comic. Part of what I appreciated about David's run on the series was how he tied some of that to psychology, which in turns was used in the original Hulk movie from Ang Lee, which I kinda liked. The Fantastic Four has always been really cool to me as well; the idea of scientists just exploring and facing off with the things they meet, finding themselves in a much larger universe than they could have imagined. The concept just fits seamlessly with the science fiction I so love.
And then there is Iron Man. Almost all of my information about him comes from selling the comics or passing them by in the stores, but from that limited perspective, he also seems to fit in an archetype of the pulp stories—an American inventor creating the perfect science fiction invention, a super-powered exoskeleton. Given the limited range of story-telling, clearly much of the comic would have to be about the personality of the hero as much as about his fights. This whole concept just intrigues me. That said, Mrs. Speculator and I have enjoyed the commercials and trailers we've seen, so we decided to take in the movie this past weekend.
It's a whole lot of fun. Visually pleasing and with allusions to make the fanboys happy, the movie still offers a lot to the fan of movies who does not necessarily know very much about the characters or their story. Of course, a lot of the interest in the movie is in Robert Downey, and how he pulls off the character of Tony Stark. There is not a lot of mention that a great deal of the movie is character pieces, and there are only really three action sequences, and one of those is pretty short, so Downey has tons of screen-time. And he pulls it off very well. Stark is at once brilliant and easily distracted, skirting the edge of ADHD. He attracts rabid fans, especially female ones, supposedly for his glib sexuality but also clearly in part for his money. These are all characteristics of Tony Stark in the comics, especially the Ultimate universe. I freely admit that I had doubts about Downey fitting the physical standard of Tony Stark, but I never doubted he would sell the character. Downey has apparently buffed up some, and we often see him in costume or in full suits, so we don't need to know about his appearance so much. And it really doesn't matter; Downey just sells the character totally, even adding nuance in his reportedly improvised scenes with his robotic assistants.
While there are other characters in the movie, they just don't have nearly the importance of Stark. Gwyneth Paltrow is efficient as Pepper Potts, pretty useless when on the screen alone, but holding her own in her badinage with Downey in the scenes they share. Jeff Bridges really chews the scenery as Obadiah Stane, which is pretty much de rigeur for the villains in the first of a potential franchise. It is startling to see him with his shaved head—but when you get used to it, how could there be any mystery that he is the bad guy? And Terence Howard walks in and out of the scenes fairly well as James Rhodes, and there are broad hints of his role to come, which anyone who knows Iron Man fairly well can tell you about.
There is also, of course, the Iron Man suit. The special effects teams did a wonderful job with the various versions of the suit, making it visually exciting while latching on to existing examples of technology as reference points. I find it a little ironic that Iron Man's flight is clearly based on the twin thrusters of the space shuttle, down to even the sounds the rocket engines make. The weapons that are deployed are fairly standard, though there are uses of the iconic "repulsors" that are interesting. But in the development of the suit, the movie really touches the soul of the comics story—lone wolf inventor makes good, even if the lone wolf is a billionaire with more development tools in his garage than in most weapons developers' entire inventories.
And so the movie, at its heart, is a coming of age movie: Stark must shed his rote rationalization of weapons development and grow his own world-view while losing (some of) his immature habits and responses. At the same time, we follow the classic science fiction invention story line, from the initial conception (usually at a time of great need) to its most current iteration. And along the way the inventor has to deal with unscrupulous partners and jealous competition, using his invention to overcome the obstacles to its further development. I'm especially reminded of the Skylark books by E. E. Smith in this regard.
I have a few nits, most of which would not bother non-comics fans, and I should probably let go, but I just can't. I wish Jarvis were the human butler he appears as in the comic books, rather than an AI companion to Stark in his home and in his suit. I recognize non-comic fans would assume he is a rip-off of Batman's Alfred (which he is), but he is such a wonderful character that I would have liked to see him in the movie to give Stark a more constant foil. I also grew tired of the many references to the mercenary/terrorist group Ten Rings. To any Iron Man fan, this is clearly a reference to the Mandarin, Iron Man's arch-nemesis, a villain with a rig on every finger, each with a different magical power. And finally where did the hole in the roof of Stark's house, from one of his first test flights in the suit, go? Sometimes it is there and sometimes not.
And that’s it. That is the sum total of my issues with the movie. Iron Man is a fun popcorn movie that does not challenge its viewers and pays respect to its sources. I'll likely see it again, when my nephew comes to live with us for part of the summer, and I won't regret the time or money spent on another viewing. I could even foresee it being the first Marvel movie in the Speculator household.
Oh, and if you don't already know, if you do go see it, stay until after the credits. A franchise is being established, one with a major name associated with it.
(In the interest of full disclosure, I have been reading the Ultimate line, originally so I could get a condensed history of the Marvel continuity with a modern perspective. I've thoroughly enjoyed them. I also read almost the entirety of Peter David's run on The Incredible Hulk, just because I love his writing. But that's been about it.)
But I have been fascinated by the idea of some Marvel characters. For instance, the Jekyll and Hyde aspect of the Hulk has always been interesting to me, though I expect a lot of that has gotten played out over the life of the comic. Part of what I appreciated about David's run on the series was how he tied some of that to psychology, which in turns was used in the original Hulk movie from Ang Lee, which I kinda liked. The Fantastic Four has always been really cool to me as well; the idea of scientists just exploring and facing off with the things they meet, finding themselves in a much larger universe than they could have imagined. The concept just fits seamlessly with the science fiction I so love.
And then there is Iron Man. Almost all of my information about him comes from selling the comics or passing them by in the stores, but from that limited perspective, he also seems to fit in an archetype of the pulp stories—an American inventor creating the perfect science fiction invention, a super-powered exoskeleton. Given the limited range of story-telling, clearly much of the comic would have to be about the personality of the hero as much as about his fights. This whole concept just intrigues me. That said, Mrs. Speculator and I have enjoyed the commercials and trailers we've seen, so we decided to take in the movie this past weekend.
It's a whole lot of fun. Visually pleasing and with allusions to make the fanboys happy, the movie still offers a lot to the fan of movies who does not necessarily know very much about the characters or their story. Of course, a lot of the interest in the movie is in Robert Downey, and how he pulls off the character of Tony Stark. There is not a lot of mention that a great deal of the movie is character pieces, and there are only really three action sequences, and one of those is pretty short, so Downey has tons of screen-time. And he pulls it off very well. Stark is at once brilliant and easily distracted, skirting the edge of ADHD. He attracts rabid fans, especially female ones, supposedly for his glib sexuality but also clearly in part for his money. These are all characteristics of Tony Stark in the comics, especially the Ultimate universe. I freely admit that I had doubts about Downey fitting the physical standard of Tony Stark, but I never doubted he would sell the character. Downey has apparently buffed up some, and we often see him in costume or in full suits, so we don't need to know about his appearance so much. And it really doesn't matter; Downey just sells the character totally, even adding nuance in his reportedly improvised scenes with his robotic assistants.
While there are other characters in the movie, they just don't have nearly the importance of Stark. Gwyneth Paltrow is efficient as Pepper Potts, pretty useless when on the screen alone, but holding her own in her badinage with Downey in the scenes they share. Jeff Bridges really chews the scenery as Obadiah Stane, which is pretty much de rigeur for the villains in the first of a potential franchise. It is startling to see him with his shaved head—but when you get used to it, how could there be any mystery that he is the bad guy? And Terence Howard walks in and out of the scenes fairly well as James Rhodes, and there are broad hints of his role to come, which anyone who knows Iron Man fairly well can tell you about.
There is also, of course, the Iron Man suit. The special effects teams did a wonderful job with the various versions of the suit, making it visually exciting while latching on to existing examples of technology as reference points. I find it a little ironic that Iron Man's flight is clearly based on the twin thrusters of the space shuttle, down to even the sounds the rocket engines make. The weapons that are deployed are fairly standard, though there are uses of the iconic "repulsors" that are interesting. But in the development of the suit, the movie really touches the soul of the comics story—lone wolf inventor makes good, even if the lone wolf is a billionaire with more development tools in his garage than in most weapons developers' entire inventories.
And so the movie, at its heart, is a coming of age movie: Stark must shed his rote rationalization of weapons development and grow his own world-view while losing (some of) his immature habits and responses. At the same time, we follow the classic science fiction invention story line, from the initial conception (usually at a time of great need) to its most current iteration. And along the way the inventor has to deal with unscrupulous partners and jealous competition, using his invention to overcome the obstacles to its further development. I'm especially reminded of the Skylark books by E. E. Smith in this regard.
I have a few nits, most of which would not bother non-comics fans, and I should probably let go, but I just can't. I wish Jarvis were the human butler he appears as in the comic books, rather than an AI companion to Stark in his home and in his suit. I recognize non-comic fans would assume he is a rip-off of Batman's Alfred (which he is), but he is such a wonderful character that I would have liked to see him in the movie to give Stark a more constant foil. I also grew tired of the many references to the mercenary/terrorist group Ten Rings. To any Iron Man fan, this is clearly a reference to the Mandarin, Iron Man's arch-nemesis, a villain with a rig on every finger, each with a different magical power. And finally where did the hole in the roof of Stark's house, from one of his first test flights in the suit, go? Sometimes it is there and sometimes not.
And that’s it. That is the sum total of my issues with the movie. Iron Man is a fun popcorn movie that does not challenge its viewers and pays respect to its sources. I'll likely see it again, when my nephew comes to live with us for part of the summer, and I won't regret the time or money spent on another viewing. I could even foresee it being the first Marvel movie in the Speculator household.
Oh, and if you don't already know, if you do go see it, stay until after the credits. A franchise is being established, one with a major name associated with it.
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