Thursday, March 26, 2009

1978: The Meaning of Feldercarb

I was a child when Battlestar Galactica premiered in the fall of 1978. It was my favorite thing to watch and set lasting precedents for the type of science fiction I enjoy now.

To love as a child is glorious; the object of such uncritical devotion is observed without pause from eye to heart, blooming into the brain's deepest chambers with lasting effect. What are the chances that something so beloved is translated into maturity? Certainly Battlestar Galactica-as-was has lost a great deal in translation and is indeed a painful thing to view decades later. Which makes it all the more incredible that the re-imagined version that premiered in 2003 is such a treat; it goes entirely against expectations by taking the germ of what gave the old show such staying power and transforming it into the fine television series that finished its run last week.

The basic premise remains: a ragtag fleet of holocaust survivors fleeing into the universe in search of a new home, the planet called... Earth. The survivors, as one might easily imagine, are a mouthy lot. They don't hesitate to use colorful language. This aspect of the show has carried over into the updated version and there is no lack of futuristic euphemisms when tensions run high. "Frak" and "gods dammit" are the two most heard; what is not heard very often is "feldercarb".

Feldercarb is a word meant to describe situations that are unfair or undeserved to the person uttering it. According to Urban Dictionary, it should be associated with what can politely be described in contemporary speak as "bullpucky". While frak seems to be find sympathy among viewers, feldercarb is hardly if ever mentioned, on- or offscreen. And why should it be, when the locutive effort required nowhere near matches the impact of bullpucky.

Next: Setting the standard for 21st century science fiction!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Battlestar Galactica: an appreciation by a lifelong fan

At least it feels like a lifelong affection, despite discovery in childhood followed by a gap of over twenty years -why quibble over numbers? Even when the television series was reimagined for this century, I paused before embracing it: what is loved in childhood does not necessitate automatic acceptance when it returns in the fullness of our years. The flame had not died, burning all the brighter once I gave the new series a proper viewing. That was a few years ago. Now the series has ended and the finale has aired and friends let me tell you, it has never been better than this.

More to come...

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Battlestar Galactica at the UN

BSG ends tomorrow night and tears will flow, mine not least among them; along with West Wing and Arrested Development, Battlestar Galactica is the best thing that ever happened on tv, a bang-up space opera with unforgettable stories and fully-realized characters. I will miss experiencing that special anticipation for new episodes.

Before leaving us forever, the crew showed up at the UN this week to discuss how real-issues have been represented in the show. Amazing... especially when you see how Edward James Olmos used this moment to make a great statement.

Stay tuned for my reflections on the show following its last broadcast.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Watchmen

Watchmen is terrible, a bad adaptation of an over-rated book, a big budget over-hyped turd that leaves a slick of grease on your brain. Where it postures with high-minded hautuer translated directly from the source, it takes the (comic) book's provocative conceits and renders them into so much high cholesterol junk.

The actors are superb and perfectly cast for their parts, especially Jackie Earle Haley as Rorschach. Haley embodies the character and makes him sympathetic, arguably more sympathetic than originally fashioned, in a performance that sadly is not supported by the film as a whole. A psychotic crimefighter, Rorschach is the soul of Watchmen. He is allowed long pontifications of voice-over to remind us what a horrible cesspool this world is. Does this sound familiar, perhaps like Notes From The Underground, Camus' The Fall, or Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver? We know this man, this voice, this rant. It is updated for juveniles everywhere in the shifting face of Rorschach.

In Notes From The Underground, when the narrator visits a prostitute he is made vulnerable and confesses how the rot of the world is reflected within himself; the pompous narrator of The Fall reveals his own failings in a philosophy that does not encompass hope or virtue; more recently, we see Travis Bickle driven to the edge of sanity as he impotently rationalizes a growing cascade of venality and avarice. In all three cases, context serves to illustrate the point that humanity is in trouble and looking for answers. Watchmen attempts the same and comes up short, in both versions; since this is a criticism of the film, I'll not address what I see as the book's failings but focus on the adaptation.

The author of Watchmen is Alan Moore, a gifted and educated writer. If you look at a body of work that includes From Hell and V for Vendetta, I don't think it's a stretch to say that Moore finds common cause with Rorschach (Moorschach?). Like V and Dr Gull, Rorschach is entirely bent on correcting society, and Moore is savvy enough to craft narratives that support their mission. This enables us to see them as heroes battling a world gone wrong -is this not the definition of a superhero?

At the close of Watchmen, when we witness Rorschach's fate it is an incisive blow to optimism made all the more profound by our sympathy for the erstwhile but clearly misguided hero. In the written form, illustrated by Dave Gibbons, the story capably and efficiently delivers the tragedy. Here is where the film adaptation goes wrong.

When the book portrays sex and violence, it does so in obligatory fashion. We see that these elements of life are prevalent and ordinary, part of the human condition. Given that the context is costume-clad low-grade sociopaths finding their way in a world that no longer accepts them, this is a brilliant accomplishment by the author and illustrator. The film adaptation goes to great lengths to portray Rorschach as written -and then undermines our sympathies entirely with raunchy fights and coupling, thereby rendering the audience as the object of the hero's contempt; by gratifying the very impulses the hero decries, we are turned (fairly or not) into the thing Rorschach so despises and fights against with every fiber of his being (is being truly fibrous, like bran cereal?).

The tragedy that makes Watchmen so stark and effecting on the page becomes an attack on the audience. Because of the film's commercial aspect -boffo box office or bust!- the story's integrity is undermined. When we see Rorschach's fate in the film, it is no longer anything more than pathetic and superficial, and we are left with nothing more than an ill feeling as if we've had a greasy meal that churns inconsolable in our guts.

In news reports we hear about Alan Moore's refusal to participate in adaptations of his work, or to even watch them; in this case, I can hardly blame him. For an adaptation that so clearly holds the source material in high esteem, this is a terrible failure of execution. Director Zach Snyder says that if sales of the book are increased, he has done his job. Judging by how copies of Watchmen are flying off bookshop shelves, I'd say mission accomplished. Too bad that in the process of selling Watchmen he did it such a disservice.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Coraline Jones

I'm a sucker for handmade films. The work of Jan Svankmajer leaps to mind as paragon of the form, especially his seminal interpretation of Alice. Now there's another magical adolescent in the arena: Coraline Jones.

A true indicator of a film's awesome factor is its effect on youth. Bored kids in the theatre are worse than a bout of Dengue fever, talking on the phone or with each other, hurling epithets at the screen and generally running amuck, caring nothing for the experience of anyone else unfortunate enough to be there. If you are at a screening of Wild Strawberries, it would be entirely in keeping with social mores to soundly evacuate the ruffians and restore necessary calm; at a matinee of The Nightmare Before Christmas, on the other hand, you might need to take the chaos as an indicator that the film has failed to reach its target audience. Fortunately Henry Selick, the director of Nightmare, knows how to create an engaging story for all ages and there have been a dearth of riots at screenings of what is recognised as a handmade classic. Selick has struck again and dare I say surpassed himself with his adaptation of Neil Gaiman's Coraline.

I arrived at the evening show ready to enjoy the film. It was my birthday and judging from the buzz surrounding Coraline, I was expecting it to be good. Just how good, however, I could not imagine. Nor could the noisy adolescents who came rumbling into the theatre in the midst of previews. Great, I thought, the night is ruined. They settled in a couple rows away and proceeded to mock the 3D glasses and whatever preview happened to be showing, either Pixar's UP (the simple premise of which could be promising) or Dreamworks' Monsters vs Aliens (a Pixar wannabe that nevertheless could be fun). Within a few minutes their racket died down, coincident with the start of Coraline, and was never heard again: they were completely and utterly silenced by the film, and like me found themselves in a mesmerized state for the next 90 minutes.

What stronger recommendation do you need?

Thursday, February 05, 2009

1001 Movies You Must See

Friends, there is a new blog where myself and other film aficionados will be posting reviews as we wind our way down a very long list of "must see" movies. Come check us out!

Friday, January 16, 2009

Farewell Andrew Wyeth

The great American painter Andrew Wyeth died peacefully in his sleep today, abed in his beloved Pennsylvania. His works have been a profound source of encouragement and joy for most of my mature existence and I mourn his passing as I would a dear friend.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

What Spidey Can Teach Obama

Yesterday a special issue of Spider Man's comic hit the stands in which he meets President-Elect Barack Obama (no, I did not buy it). Other than being a tawdry method of generating sales, as the fan website newsarama points out, there is a valuable lesson Spidey can impart to the incoming President:

The Press Isn't Your Friend!

As our friendly neighborhood wall crawler has learned time and again, getting your name in the headlines is not always grand. While Obama is unlikely to be called a "masked menace to society" any time too soon, as Spidey is daily in the editorial pages of the Daily Bugle (the comic book version of The New York Post), he will surely be the subject of many pundits ugly or uglier than J Jonah Jameson.

Note to Obama: Spidey usually responds by webbing Jameson's pants to a chair

96 Films To See Before Dying

The ever-intrepid Rollerkaty introduced me to a book that is sure to dominate the rest of her natural existence: 1,001 Movies You Must See Before You Die. Katy and her husband never have to worry about what to watch again, it's all right there in the book.

Pondering the huge commitment of watching more than one thousand "must-see" movies, I've found myself breaking out in cold shakes and developing strange skin afflictions -the pressure is too much! Don't get me wrong: an avid filmgoer since an early age, I have no doubt that I've seen at least a thousand movies. Putting it into such a formal list, however, makes the wieght of such viewing all too palpable and is for one so sensitive as myself an intolerable burden.

What to do? I've a notion...

What if the number were less? What if one were asked to watch two movies a week for one year in order to achieve cinema legitimacy? -the suggestion that movies exist we must see before death implies that not having seen them makes us somehow less. Wouldn't a lower number be more realistic?

While I do not necessarily adhere to the idea that you have to see certain movies in order to have "lived", there is nevertheless something wonderful in experiencing the arts that brings greater dimension to life. Stay tuned as I progress in narrowing the "96 Films To See Before Dying".

I'm open to suggestions. Please feel free to share a film or three that you consider essential.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Two Great Tastes...

The Shaw for Delicious Gluttony Must Be Stopped But Can't goes to: Haagen Dazs' Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream.

It gets inside. The other day I was reading that there's a parasite, toxoplasma gondii, that creates in its host an attraction to the smell of cat urine. I've got one of those, but for the smell of chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

Cal-Raven's Ladder

The Shaw for Most Anticipated Sequel in Books is...

-the third in Jeffrey Overstreet's Thread Series: Cal-Raven's Ladder. Auralia's Colors (image above) is the first, Cyndere's Midnight the second in Overstreet's four-part fantasy series. With each book, the storytelling gets better and the characters more engaging, and from what I've seen of the third book so far the author is continuing to take us onward and upward.

Check out this series to see why I am eagerly anticipating Cal-Raven's Ladder.

Monday, January 05, 2009

A World of Music and Ideas

This year's Shaw for Consistent Excellence in Radio Diversity goes to...

I am a recent convert to KBCS 91.3, having stumbled across them after my cassette player gave up the ghost. Funded by the National Endowment for the Arts, they have the most diverse/eclectic radio programming I've seen in a single station, mixing social consciousness with funk, jazz, soul, electronica, medieval, latin, zydeco, R&B, Indian ragga... the list goes on and on. They stream online and maintain an excellent archive of past shows: definitely worth checking out.

Spoiler Alert

I can always count on Wooster Collective for good material, and they have earned the Shaw this year for Best Spoiler Art for Family Film, with this graffiti:


(watch out, it's a spoiler)











Friday, January 02, 2009

The Shaw Award

Are you like me, fed up with all these award shows that operate on the same template? How many different ways do we want to be told what the best album/film/book of the year was? Oscar has one opinion, the Golden Globes another: different ceremonies, same award categories. Zzzz...

I'm looking for a more personal approach. We live in an age of You/Space/Book, where the things we love as individuals have a public platform. Rather than continue operating off the old model, I wish to suggest a new standard: The Shaw Award.

The Shaw Award is a cascade of highly-peculiar categories that directly respond to specific things that made a year great. Watch this space for the month of January to see just what I mean. In the spirit of the Oscars, these will be referred heretofore as "The Shaws".

The Shaw for the I'm Not Heath Ledger Performance of the Year award goes to:


The Joker!
(Not to be confused with Heath Ledger's other masterpiece, A Knight's Tale)

Seriously, watch The Dark Knight and see if Heath Ledger doesn't completely vanish inside his performance. It's one of the most incredible transformations of an actor I've ever seen.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Eartha Kitt 1927-2008

Like many of you, my first time seeing Eartha Kitt was as Catwoman on the cornball 60's Batman tv show; what placed her permanently in my heart was listening years later to her rendition of "I Want to be Evil":

Monday, December 15, 2008

Yuletide Wish List

Inspired by my good friend over at Rollerblog, here is my wish list for the season: an archery kit and laptop (because I haven't gotten around to buying them for myself), Star Trek: The Motion Picture dvd (so I can stop listening to the soundtrack and driving my housemates batty), and a nice 1964 paperback edition of I am Legend by Richard Matheson (because Will Smith does not belong on the cover of this excellent novella).



Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

This is one of those films we like to call a "hum dinger"...

As you can tell from the above image, Donald Sutherland is not pleased with you. Or to be more precise, the alien pod thing that has taken over Mr Sutherland's existence is not happy, really, with any human being remaining in the city of San Francisco. When he sees a human, he points, he squints, he screams. Not a happy moment for anyone involved, especially if you're human.

Wonderful film. Check it out if you happen to be in the mood for pod people (and when are you not?).

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Why I Enjoy Fringe

My one hour of television viewing each week is on Tuesday to watch Fringe. Last night sidling up to the tube, my housemate was watching the end of her show and when I sat down she said, "Are you watching 'Cringe' or whatever?" That's the love in our house. Against the grain go I. Esoteric science mixed with conspiratorial derring-do, smart dialogue and enough mystery to generate a thousand harebrained theories -what's not to enjoy?

Yesterday's was the last episode for a few weeks and quite eventful it was. One of the "fringe" elements in the show is memory overlap, specifically between the main character, Olivia Dunham, and the man who betrayed her, John Scott. In the show pilot (sadly the worst episode of the season thus far) Olivia entered his memory to retrieve information crucial to that week's plot. This was tricky: John was dead at the time.
Subsequently she has seen him pop up in random places. It turns out that parts of his memory overlapped with hers and now reside in her brain, and as a result she sometimes experiences his memory as her own.

Sound confusing? Over the stretch of several episodes, the show has worked admirably to explain this phenomenon to the audience, culminating in a great moment last night when Olivia mistook one of John's memories for her own. In a previous episode she actually went into one of his memories to search for clues, very Charlie Kaufman-esque with creepy overtones of lost love gone terribly wrong.

One of the show's core strengths is the relationship between Dr Walter Bishop and his son, Peter. They are wonderful. Joshua Jackson plays Peter with a lot of soul -which I suppose fans of Dawson's Creek will recognize. John Noble, last seen as Denethor in the Lord of the Rings, treads a thin line with his character, teetering between cute nonsense and scientific brilliance, finding at the intersection a fascinating study in obsessive behavior.

The show has it's problems. One of the villains is a Hannibal Lecter knockoff, while others are under-cooked. The actress who plays Olivia could use some coaching on how to act outside of the one-note range. Nevertheless, there's nothing else so weird and fun like Fringe on tv these days, and to judge from the season so far, it's just going to get better.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Farewell Old Friend

13 years ago on the eve of moving to San Francisco, I purchased a double-deck Sony cassette player. Last night the last of its belts gave out. After blasting Al Green in the late evening, I flipped the tape and after pressing PLAY was met with the telltale squeals of a tapehead belt that no longer rolls at the correct speed. This was the right-hand deck. The left-hand deck wore out a few months ago in the midst of a dubbing session. It was only a matter of time...
Thirteen years. Not bad. Nobody expects a cellphone to function that long, let alone the medium of a defunct technology. (Oddly enough, the CD player was the first component to fail, lasting less than a year.) I will miss my friend and companion.

Monday, November 24, 2008

The Proposition

Damn good film.

It was inevitable that I would see a film written and scored by Nick Cave, and this was well worth the wait. Fittingly enough the director John Hillcoat is adapting Cormac McCarthy's The Road for the screen. Should be a perfect fit.