Starring: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cotillard
Directed By: Woody Allen
Written By: Woody Allen
Gravier Productions, 2011
PG-13; 94 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
IMDB has this movie listed as a comedy, which surprised me because I didn't see a whole lot of funny in it. But then again, comedy has a lot of different flavors, and Woody Allen isn't known for belly laughs. His comedy tends toward the more thought-inducing and neurotic.
I'll start out by admitting I'm no huge fan of Woody Allen; I haven't seen more than a handful of his movies. We had to watch Annie Hall in film school, of course, and while I thought that was an okay film, I had a difficult time understanding all the hype around it. Maybe I was born in the wrong era, or maybe I just don't think that way.
But I really liked Midnight in Paris. This is probably because I'm a writer in love with a foreign city myself and so I could completely identify with Wilson's character. He plays Gil, an established screenwriter who is taking a sabbatical of sorts in Paris so he can write what he hopes will be a great literary novel. Tagging along are his fiancée Inez and her parents, as well as some other friends of hers . . . Gil evidently has inherited all friends and family and has none of his own.
If I have one bone to pick with Midnight in Paris, it's that I cannot for the life of me figure out why Gil and Inez are together. They have nothing in common, and she has a terrible habit of making fun of him by relating sensitive and embarrassing anecdotes to others. Gil is a nice-guy liberal; Inez and her family are stuck-up right-wingers. If I had to guess, I'd say Inez was originally drawn by Gil's prospects, his connections as a screenwriter, which is likely why she fights him so hard when Gil mentions (repeatedly) that he might prefer to settle in the City of Lights indefinitely.
This is all prologue, of course; the real story here is how every night at midnight, Gil gets magically swept into the 1920s Parisian scene. While there he meets Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, Dali, the Fitzgeralds, Cole Porter, and Gertrude Stein (portrayed quite well by Kathy Bates) among others. Meeting these icons gives Gil a shot of literary mojo. In fact, it seems almost addictive for him; Gil begins retreating from the modern world more and more as he begins to dwell on and within this fantastical space.
Of course, the underlying theme in Midnight in Paris is about the grass being greener. When Gil and a 1920s artists' model named Adriana (Cotillard) get swept back into the 1890s, she proclaims that she never wants to return to the present--her present, the 1920s. After all, the "now" is boring; things were so much better in the good ol' days. As Gil tries to convince her otherwise, he comes to the realization that escapism is no answer to life's problems.
It's a delicate balance; as a writer I know the value of living within one's imagination, sometimes for long periods of time. Breaking the dreamy concentration can be costly to a story or script. Interruption is generally unwelcome. But one also has to surface now and again, participate in real life, and be present in the present, else life can come crashing down while you're living and breathing an otherwhere.
Midnight in Paris is a gentle film, and beautiful in a cinematographic way, even if it carries no heavy insights into life. The motion in the film, both outward and introspectively, is slow, like a dawning. This is not a movie designed to jolt, or even to prompt great discussion; instead it is a love letter to the creative mind, and to all the influences that crowd it.
12.12.2011
12.10.2011
Movie Review: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
Starring: Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, A Bunch of Other British Dudes
Directed By: Tomas Alfredson
Written By: John Le Carré (novel), Bridget O'Connor & Peter Straughan (screenplay)
Focus Features/Studio Canal, 2011
R; 127 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I recently read and reviewed the book this movie was based on, and I have to say it did help that I was already familiar with the source material because the movie has the potential to be confusing to those who don't already know the story. And yet the writers made enough alterations from the novel that, having just read it, I was very aware of what was different and missing, too. It was a little like one of those picture games where you have two images and are told to find all the changes.
As a film, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is a Cold War-era tale of British espionage in which Oldman plays "retired" (read: booted) MI6 agent George Smiley, who is pulled back into the world of "The Circus" in order to help smoke out a mole working for the Russians. That sounds like a simple enough story, but these are spies, remember, so everything becomes very convoluted very quickly. And while the film is good—better than good, actually—it suffers a little in comparison to the book, not because of the changes that have been made (the changes work very well), but because the characters don't get enough of an introduction for the viewers to necessarily follow them easily or get any real sense of them at all. If I hadn't only just read the novel, I would almost certainly have been asking myself, Which one is that guy again? and Wait, what was his story? Maybe even, Why should I care about him, exactly?
TTSS requires undivided attention. There are a lot of people and a lot of cuts between past and present. Still, the story is good enough to hold an audience's interest, which makes it somewhat better than the book in that respect, since parts of the novel were prone to drag. As Smiley, Oldman is able to pull all focus to him; his smallest motions convey as much as any length of dialogue might. Flashbacks to what must have been the worst Christmas party in history add a strange weight, a sorrow, to the whole of the film.
Along with Oldman, Mark Strong, whom I usually think of as a villain, has a small, non-evil role, and the quiet strength of his performance is lovely. Tom Hardy, too, shines a bit as a rogue agent whose emotions get the better of him, even as he tries to do the right thing.
It's a nice-looking film, too, the bad 70s haircuts notwithstanding. A sort of sodium filter gives everything the tint of an old photograph, which lends itself to the story quite well.
Still and all, it isn't edge-of-your-seat spy thriller entertainment. Nothing is exploding. There are one or two tense scenes in which someone is in jeopardy—and maybe I would have felt it more if I hadn't already known the outcomes—but the overall feel is one of quiet reflection and semi-nostalgia. Which sounds boring, but somehow TTSS (and Oldman) pulls it off.
And at the end of the day, as the credits roll, one could easily imagine another George Smiley movie to follow. Even hope for one. Just give me enough warning so I can read the novel first, please.
Directed By: Tomas Alfredson
Written By: John Le Carré (novel), Bridget O'Connor & Peter Straughan (screenplay)
Focus Features/Studio Canal, 2011
R; 127 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I recently read and reviewed the book this movie was based on, and I have to say it did help that I was already familiar with the source material because the movie has the potential to be confusing to those who don't already know the story. And yet the writers made enough alterations from the novel that, having just read it, I was very aware of what was different and missing, too. It was a little like one of those picture games where you have two images and are told to find all the changes.
As a film, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is a Cold War-era tale of British espionage in which Oldman plays "retired" (read: booted) MI6 agent George Smiley, who is pulled back into the world of "The Circus" in order to help smoke out a mole working for the Russians. That sounds like a simple enough story, but these are spies, remember, so everything becomes very convoluted very quickly. And while the film is good—better than good, actually—it suffers a little in comparison to the book, not because of the changes that have been made (the changes work very well), but because the characters don't get enough of an introduction for the viewers to necessarily follow them easily or get any real sense of them at all. If I hadn't only just read the novel, I would almost certainly have been asking myself, Which one is that guy again? and Wait, what was his story? Maybe even, Why should I care about him, exactly?
TTSS requires undivided attention. There are a lot of people and a lot of cuts between past and present. Still, the story is good enough to hold an audience's interest, which makes it somewhat better than the book in that respect, since parts of the novel were prone to drag. As Smiley, Oldman is able to pull all focus to him; his smallest motions convey as much as any length of dialogue might. Flashbacks to what must have been the worst Christmas party in history add a strange weight, a sorrow, to the whole of the film.
Along with Oldman, Mark Strong, whom I usually think of as a villain, has a small, non-evil role, and the quiet strength of his performance is lovely. Tom Hardy, too, shines a bit as a rogue agent whose emotions get the better of him, even as he tries to do the right thing.
It's a nice-looking film, too, the bad 70s haircuts notwithstanding. A sort of sodium filter gives everything the tint of an old photograph, which lends itself to the story quite well.
Still and all, it isn't edge-of-your-seat spy thriller entertainment. Nothing is exploding. There are one or two tense scenes in which someone is in jeopardy—and maybe I would have felt it more if I hadn't already known the outcomes—but the overall feel is one of quiet reflection and semi-nostalgia. Which sounds boring, but somehow TTSS (and Oldman) pulls it off.
And at the end of the day, as the credits roll, one could easily imagine another George Smiley movie to follow. Even hope for one. Just give me enough warning so I can read the novel first, please.
12.07.2011
Two Questions
If I could ask Benedict Cumberbatch two questions:
1. Would you name your son Timothy?
2. What did you do for Speech Day?
1. Would you name your son Timothy?
2. What did you do for Speech Day?
11.22.2011
Book Review: Thomas and Friends On Track with Phonics: Fox in the Box
This is a little book that came in a set of 12 I bought for my 2-year-old at the book fair at his school last week. He loves Thomas the Tank Engine, and the minute he saw these books he had to have them. They were produced by Random House, copyrighted 2010.
Tonight I read him the book titled Fox in the Box, and I have to say: it is a terrible book. I understand the need to use certain words and sounds when teaching phonics, but they could have done better than this.
The story begins with Thomas and Percy (another train engine, for those not versed in Thomas lore) wanting to have a party. There's no clear reason for this celebration; they're just party animals, those two. Lucky for them they have a box filled with nuts, bags, and caps. Woo-hoo! Bring it!
Things go awry, however, when a fox comes along and gets into the box. This fox eats the nuts and "nips and rips" the bags, which sends tattle-tale Thomas running to Driver Dan to beg him to do something. But before Dan can come up with a plan, it starts to rain.
Turns out the fox doesn't like rain. So he runs off to another box—this one empty—seeking refuge. It's not entirely clear why the fox didn't just stay in the first box, which appeared to be inside and sheltered from the rain. But we'll let that pass and focus on the truly dreadful outcome of this story.
The fox is in the empty box, hiding from the rain. Driver Dan then comes along and puts a lid on the box so that only the fox's tail is hanging out. Meanwhile, Thomas and Percy get to throw their wild party, nuts, bags, caps and all. And the final page? It reads: "The party was fun. But not for the fox."
Sure enough, with confetti flying, there are Thomas and Percy having a party and the box with the fox's tail sitting in the middle of it all. Instead of letting this poor fox go free somewhere, Driver Dan and the tank engines have apparently decided to subject it to captivity and mockery. (They also haven't invited any of the other trains from what I can tell.) It's not a terribly edifying lesson, is almost baffling in its bizarre "twist ending."
I haven't read any of the other books in this collection, though my husband assures me Go, Bertie, Go features Dan wielding a bat for no apparent reason. I'm starting to think Dan needs a holiday or therapy or something. I fear he's encouraging anti-social behavior in the sheds.
Tonight I read him the book titled Fox in the Box, and I have to say: it is a terrible book. I understand the need to use certain words and sounds when teaching phonics, but they could have done better than this.
The story begins with Thomas and Percy (another train engine, for those not versed in Thomas lore) wanting to have a party. There's no clear reason for this celebration; they're just party animals, those two. Lucky for them they have a box filled with nuts, bags, and caps. Woo-hoo! Bring it!
Things go awry, however, when a fox comes along and gets into the box. This fox eats the nuts and "nips and rips" the bags, which sends tattle-tale Thomas running to Driver Dan to beg him to do something. But before Dan can come up with a plan, it starts to rain.
Turns out the fox doesn't like rain. So he runs off to another box—this one empty—seeking refuge. It's not entirely clear why the fox didn't just stay in the first box, which appeared to be inside and sheltered from the rain. But we'll let that pass and focus on the truly dreadful outcome of this story.
The fox is in the empty box, hiding from the rain. Driver Dan then comes along and puts a lid on the box so that only the fox's tail is hanging out. Meanwhile, Thomas and Percy get to throw their wild party, nuts, bags, caps and all. And the final page? It reads: "The party was fun. But not for the fox."
Sure enough, with confetti flying, there are Thomas and Percy having a party and the box with the fox's tail sitting in the middle of it all. Instead of letting this poor fox go free somewhere, Driver Dan and the tank engines have apparently decided to subject it to captivity and mockery. (They also haven't invited any of the other trains from what I can tell.) It's not a terribly edifying lesson, is almost baffling in its bizarre "twist ending."
I haven't read any of the other books in this collection, though my husband assures me Go, Bertie, Go features Dan wielding a bat for no apparent reason. I'm starting to think Dan needs a holiday or therapy or something. I fear he's encouraging anti-social behavior in the sheds.
11.04.2011
Book Review: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
John Le Carré
Alfred A. Knopf, 1974
355 pages
hardcover
_____________________________________________________
This book was kind of excruciating to read, but I dogged my way through it because I wanted to know the story before the film opens in the U.S. in December. I'd never read anything by Le Carré before, so I don't know if all his books are as much of a slog as this one. Or maybe it's just that I'm out of practice with the whole spy thriller genre; I go through cycles with what I read and haven't done Clancy and his ilk in at least a decade or more.
While reading TTSS, I could absolutely picture how I would script it for film, but it works better that way than in prose, I think. A lot of the story involves the main character—a British spy named George Smiley who has been forced into retirement—reading old dossiers and interviewing witnesses. Not terribly engaging in and of itself, but easy to fix with visuals within a movie.
There are a handful of honestly intense moments, but they are outweighed by the long intervals of reminiscences. I think some of the flashbacks are intended to be intense, too, but since the reader already knows who came out alive, there's little to sustain the tension.
The core of the story is Smiley attempting to ferret out a double agent, or "mole," but finding out who, or even why (and admittedly the "why" is flimsy in any case), ends up being not so interesting as how.
I know TTSS was not Le Carré's first novel, and knowing so little about his catalogue of work, I have no idea if I was supposed to know Smiley and some of the other characters from previous tales. If so, this may have been one of the reasons I found the book a bit thin on character development. All these potentially interesting people, but it was more tell than show when it came to interior dialogue and motives. I wanted to see them do things that would inform me about their characters, but it was a lot of sitting and talking, or sitting and reading, or walking and talking, or riding in cars and talking (which is more or less the same as sitting and talking), or the author simply telling the reader what the character felt. In the end, all this gave the feeling that the characters lacked depth.
Or maybe that's the point. Maybe spies lack depth because they're all façade in any case. But really, that makes the meal somewhat unsatisfying. Considering the time I'm devoting to the story, I'd like to think all the people I'm reading about have complex makeups, even when showing only one facet—the reader should be led to believe it's one facet of many. In TTSS, whether it be the British rectitude or secret agent reserve, the reader may not be convinced there's any more to the men than the little that is shown.
Alfred A. Knopf, 1974
355 pages
hardcover
_____________________________________________________
This book was kind of excruciating to read, but I dogged my way through it because I wanted to know the story before the film opens in the U.S. in December. I'd never read anything by Le Carré before, so I don't know if all his books are as much of a slog as this one. Or maybe it's just that I'm out of practice with the whole spy thriller genre; I go through cycles with what I read and haven't done Clancy and his ilk in at least a decade or more.
While reading TTSS, I could absolutely picture how I would script it for film, but it works better that way than in prose, I think. A lot of the story involves the main character—a British spy named George Smiley who has been forced into retirement—reading old dossiers and interviewing witnesses. Not terribly engaging in and of itself, but easy to fix with visuals within a movie.
There are a handful of honestly intense moments, but they are outweighed by the long intervals of reminiscences. I think some of the flashbacks are intended to be intense, too, but since the reader already knows who came out alive, there's little to sustain the tension.
The core of the story is Smiley attempting to ferret out a double agent, or "mole," but finding out who, or even why (and admittedly the "why" is flimsy in any case), ends up being not so interesting as how.
I know TTSS was not Le Carré's first novel, and knowing so little about his catalogue of work, I have no idea if I was supposed to know Smiley and some of the other characters from previous tales. If so, this may have been one of the reasons I found the book a bit thin on character development. All these potentially interesting people, but it was more tell than show when it came to interior dialogue and motives. I wanted to see them do things that would inform me about their characters, but it was a lot of sitting and talking, or sitting and reading, or walking and talking, or riding in cars and talking (which is more or less the same as sitting and talking), or the author simply telling the reader what the character felt. In the end, all this gave the feeling that the characters lacked depth.
Or maybe that's the point. Maybe spies lack depth because they're all façade in any case. But really, that makes the meal somewhat unsatisfying. Considering the time I'm devoting to the story, I'd like to think all the people I'm reading about have complex makeups, even when showing only one facet—the reader should be led to believe it's one facet of many. In TTSS, whether it be the British rectitude or secret agent reserve, the reader may not be convinced there's any more to the men than the little that is shown.
10.15.2011
Movie Review: Thor
Starring: Chris Hemsworth, Natalie Portman, Anthony Hopkins
Directed By: Kenneth Branagh
Written By: Ashley Miller, Zack Stentz, Don Payne (screenplay); J Michael Straczynski, Mark Protosevich (story); Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby (comic book)
Paramount Pictures/Marvel Entertainment, 2011
PG-13; 115 minutes
2 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
This is how I envision Thor having been written: J Michael Straczynski (creator of Babylon 5) sketched out the story on a napkin while spending a good deal of time at a bar, probably celebrating however much they paid him to do the job. All well and good until he set his drink on the napkin. Then some of what he wrote got a little blurry. And by the time Protosevich got hold of it, he could only read about half. He made some additional notes—that may or may not have had anything to do with anything JMS had written—then faxed the napkin to the screenwriters, but of course it got shredded by the fax machine. This left the screenwriters with no choice but to try to piece together what they could of what had probably been something decent if not brilliant but was now the screenplay equivalent of mincemeat. They threw in some filler for the parts they couldn't find or decipher. The end result: the mess that is Thor.
Truthfully, it's a textbook movie. It's so predictable one thinks it must have been written by film students who only just learned about plot and three-act structure. And it's streamlined all to hell—most character development has been cut in favor of action sequences. If we're supposed to believe there's some kind of chemistry between Jane Foster (Portman) and Thor (Hemsworth), well . . . Let's just say even my rather extensive ability to suspend my disbelief doesn't stretch quite so far.
As my husband put it, a lot of the movie is about a woman who doesn't drive very well. And I just had that "Rainbow Road" video from YouTube stuck in my head the entire time.
It probably didn't help that our cat's name is Loki. He would have made a much better villain, I think; especially if we got him that horned helmet and a cape.
All the scenes in Asgard look like cut scenes from a Final Fantasy game. And everything there is very shiny. Are Norse gods also magpies or something? They seem to really, really like shiny things is all I'm saying.
It wouldn't have hurt if Thor had had a tad more humor, either. I wanted a reason to laugh, even just once or twice, but most of the dialogue falls flat. That is to say, the stuff that maybe is supposed to be funny isn't, and none of it is unintentionally funny either, so the movie ends up feeling monotonous in overall tone.
As a whole, the feeling is they made Thor simply because they felt they had to in order to introduce the character in advance of The Avengers. If you do bother to watch, wait for the scene after the end credits; it was reportedly done by Joss Whedon (uncredited) and is in the style the rest of the movie should have been. Not that I don't love Branagh, and I'm sure he did the best he could with what he had for material, but . . . Seriously. Does Asgard really need to be that shiny?
Directed By: Kenneth Branagh
Written By: Ashley Miller, Zack Stentz, Don Payne (screenplay); J Michael Straczynski, Mark Protosevich (story); Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby (comic book)
Paramount Pictures/Marvel Entertainment, 2011
PG-13; 115 minutes
2 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
This is how I envision Thor having been written: J Michael Straczynski (creator of Babylon 5) sketched out the story on a napkin while spending a good deal of time at a bar, probably celebrating however much they paid him to do the job. All well and good until he set his drink on the napkin. Then some of what he wrote got a little blurry. And by the time Protosevich got hold of it, he could only read about half. He made some additional notes—that may or may not have had anything to do with anything JMS had written—then faxed the napkin to the screenwriters, but of course it got shredded by the fax machine. This left the screenwriters with no choice but to try to piece together what they could of what had probably been something decent if not brilliant but was now the screenplay equivalent of mincemeat. They threw in some filler for the parts they couldn't find or decipher. The end result: the mess that is Thor.
Truthfully, it's a textbook movie. It's so predictable one thinks it must have been written by film students who only just learned about plot and three-act structure. And it's streamlined all to hell—most character development has been cut in favor of action sequences. If we're supposed to believe there's some kind of chemistry between Jane Foster (Portman) and Thor (Hemsworth), well . . . Let's just say even my rather extensive ability to suspend my disbelief doesn't stretch quite so far.
As my husband put it, a lot of the movie is about a woman who doesn't drive very well. And I just had that "Rainbow Road" video from YouTube stuck in my head the entire time.
It probably didn't help that our cat's name is Loki. He would have made a much better villain, I think; especially if we got him that horned helmet and a cape.
All the scenes in Asgard look like cut scenes from a Final Fantasy game. And everything there is very shiny. Are Norse gods also magpies or something? They seem to really, really like shiny things is all I'm saying.
It wouldn't have hurt if Thor had had a tad more humor, either. I wanted a reason to laugh, even just once or twice, but most of the dialogue falls flat. That is to say, the stuff that maybe is supposed to be funny isn't, and none of it is unintentionally funny either, so the movie ends up feeling monotonous in overall tone.
As a whole, the feeling is they made Thor simply because they felt they had to in order to introduce the character in advance of The Avengers. If you do bother to watch, wait for the scene after the end credits; it was reportedly done by Joss Whedon (uncredited) and is in the style the rest of the movie should have been. Not that I don't love Branagh, and I'm sure he did the best he could with what he had for material, but . . . Seriously. Does Asgard really need to be that shiny?
10.11.2011
Book Review: Becoming Jane Austen
Jon Spence
Continuum, 2007
312 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
This is the book the film Becoming Jane was based on. Now to be fair, my husband and I had tried to watch Becoming Jane a couple years back and couldn't get into it, so we turned it off after 15 minutes. Maybe we were just in the wrong frame of mind, or maybe this is the kind of story that doesn't translate so smoothly. Dunno.
I picked up the book because at some point it occurred to me that although I like Austen's writing (and yet I haven't read all of her work, though I probably should), I knew very little about her as a person. So I got curious. And then I went to the library, and this was one of the most recent books they had on the biography shelf. I figured recent information was probably better than, say, books from the 60s and 70s, so . . .
Becoming Jane Austen is good. It's well written, thorough, but not dry. Very accessible. It's almost a shame there's not more concrete information about Austen's life, but Spence does very well with what's available.
And I have to say I find it a fun fact that Jane and I were born almost exactly 200 years apart, plus one day . . . I guess I'd better hope I don't die at age 41, though.
Bottom line is I now know more about Jane Austen than I did, which was the goal. And had a nice time learning, thanks to this book.
Continuum, 2007
312 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
This is the book the film Becoming Jane was based on. Now to be fair, my husband and I had tried to watch Becoming Jane a couple years back and couldn't get into it, so we turned it off after 15 minutes. Maybe we were just in the wrong frame of mind, or maybe this is the kind of story that doesn't translate so smoothly. Dunno.
I picked up the book because at some point it occurred to me that although I like Austen's writing (and yet I haven't read all of her work, though I probably should), I knew very little about her as a person. So I got curious. And then I went to the library, and this was one of the most recent books they had on the biography shelf. I figured recent information was probably better than, say, books from the 60s and 70s, so . . .
Becoming Jane Austen is good. It's well written, thorough, but not dry. Very accessible. It's almost a shame there's not more concrete information about Austen's life, but Spence does very well with what's available.
And I have to say I find it a fun fact that Jane and I were born almost exactly 200 years apart, plus one day . . . I guess I'd better hope I don't die at age 41, though.
Bottom line is I now know more about Jane Austen than I did, which was the goal. And had a nice time learning, thanks to this book.
10.03.2011
Television: Doctor Who finale
All right, let's start from the tippy top. My dad used to watch Doctor Who when I was a kid, and I'd sometimes sit with him (we only had the one television), but I never did follow what was going on exactly, and it all looked a bit silly to me. Still and all, when the program was rebooted in 2005, my husband and I tried it out. We didn't get more than a couple episodes in, however. Maybe it was that we had other demands on our time—our first son was born that November—and/or that, in the list of shows we had time to fit in, Doctor Who fell toward the end.
NOW, a few years later, with kids a little older and us having a bit more free time to ourselves (and our almost 6-year-old finding DW to be a treat), and also the advent of streaming video, we've had the chance to catch up. And as a rule I do enjoy Doctor Who. I could debate the pros and cons of Tennant versus Smith all day, I could delve into the darker side of the Doctor and his psyche, what-have-you. But I really want to focus on the two Smith finales, by which I mean that of the last series (what we in the States would call "last season") and this past one as well. Because they seemed remarkably similar in tone and execution, which makes me worry that Steven Moffat might be dipping too often from the same well.
Here's the thing: last year the finale was "The Big Bang," in which the Doctor was in the Pandorica, but then he wasn't, and then he was going to die in 12 minutes, but then he didn't, and they had to recreate the Big Bang so the world could go back to normal. This year's finale was "The Wedding of River Song," in which the Doctor was once again going to die on a certain day and time, but then he didn't, and that messed things up in the world, so he had to fake his death so time could go back to normal.
Point 1. In each case, at least part if not most of the tension was predicated on the anticipation of the coming death of the Doctor. If this is your go-to crisis for every series finale, something is wrong. How many times can he die, or almost die, but not really die, or else come back from the dead, before the audience ceases to care? The only time this works is (a) if the program is in real danger of cancelation and the audience isn't sure if it's ending, and/or (b) there's a real chance the actor is leaving and the audience wants to see if there's a new Doctor.
Point 2. In both these finales, the pseudo-science causing the problem was, er . . . Jumbled? Not compelling? The core plots seemed flimsy. They were excuses for the characters to have long-winded conversations about their emotions. If you pay attention, that's how Doctor Who functions: the science is rattled off at light speed while the soapy interactions are prolonged. I don't have a problem with this as a rule; I'm the kind of person who enjoys character development. And if any of these characters were actually developing, I'd be ecstatic. But they all appear to be a bit stuck in their ways, forms and functions these days. River Song will always save the day and Rory will always be the underdog, while Amy usually has to step in and help him. If Rory does happen to rescue someone or something, it's generally by accident, a happy byproduct of his own clumsy existence. For once I'd like to see River Song not so sure of herself. I'd like to see Rory put his foot down in a way that the others can't railroad him. It's not in his established character makeup for him to walk away, but what if he finally did? That would be interesting. Not only because it'd be new for the character, but because the situation that would cause such a fundamentally changed reaction in him would have to be fascinating in and of itself.
Point 3. This is a more general point, but I do wish Moffat and company would give the audience a tad more credit. I mean, the minute they started talking about "the question" (a few episodes back), it was clear to me that they meant the show title. And it's no stretch to go from there to the Doctor's name. (That's old school mythology right there: look at Isis and Set.) So when the question was finally "revealed" at the end of "The Wedding of River Song," it was really more of a confirmation. The excess of drama around it was unnecessary. It smacked of a smugness that was unmerited, rather like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat with an exaggerated flourish while the audience sits there and says, "Uh, yeah. We know. Rabbit. Duh."
Okay, so to sum up: I like Doctor Who and want to continue to like Doctor Who, but in order for that to happen, we need some real shake-ups as opposed to these sort of smoke-and-mirror tactics. Let's get out of the comfort zone here, people. Really surprise us. If he can do that—if he can make us go, "Holy s***, really? I never saw that coming!"—Moffat and his crew will have earned the right to pat themselves on the backs.
NOW, a few years later, with kids a little older and us having a bit more free time to ourselves (and our almost 6-year-old finding DW to be a treat), and also the advent of streaming video, we've had the chance to catch up. And as a rule I do enjoy Doctor Who. I could debate the pros and cons of Tennant versus Smith all day, I could delve into the darker side of the Doctor and his psyche, what-have-you. But I really want to focus on the two Smith finales, by which I mean that of the last series (what we in the States would call "last season") and this past one as well. Because they seemed remarkably similar in tone and execution, which makes me worry that Steven Moffat might be dipping too often from the same well.
Here's the thing: last year the finale was "The Big Bang," in which the Doctor was in the Pandorica, but then he wasn't, and then he was going to die in 12 minutes, but then he didn't, and they had to recreate the Big Bang so the world could go back to normal. This year's finale was "The Wedding of River Song," in which the Doctor was once again going to die on a certain day and time, but then he didn't, and that messed things up in the world, so he had to fake his death so time could go back to normal.
Point 1. In each case, at least part if not most of the tension was predicated on the anticipation of the coming death of the Doctor. If this is your go-to crisis for every series finale, something is wrong. How many times can he die, or almost die, but not really die, or else come back from the dead, before the audience ceases to care? The only time this works is (a) if the program is in real danger of cancelation and the audience isn't sure if it's ending, and/or (b) there's a real chance the actor is leaving and the audience wants to see if there's a new Doctor.
Point 2. In both these finales, the pseudo-science causing the problem was, er . . . Jumbled? Not compelling? The core plots seemed flimsy. They were excuses for the characters to have long-winded conversations about their emotions. If you pay attention, that's how Doctor Who functions: the science is rattled off at light speed while the soapy interactions are prolonged. I don't have a problem with this as a rule; I'm the kind of person who enjoys character development. And if any of these characters were actually developing, I'd be ecstatic. But they all appear to be a bit stuck in their ways, forms and functions these days. River Song will always save the day and Rory will always be the underdog, while Amy usually has to step in and help him. If Rory does happen to rescue someone or something, it's generally by accident, a happy byproduct of his own clumsy existence. For once I'd like to see River Song not so sure of herself. I'd like to see Rory put his foot down in a way that the others can't railroad him. It's not in his established character makeup for him to walk away, but what if he finally did? That would be interesting. Not only because it'd be new for the character, but because the situation that would cause such a fundamentally changed reaction in him would have to be fascinating in and of itself.
Point 3. This is a more general point, but I do wish Moffat and company would give the audience a tad more credit. I mean, the minute they started talking about "the question" (a few episodes back), it was clear to me that they meant the show title. And it's no stretch to go from there to the Doctor's name. (That's old school mythology right there: look at Isis and Set.) So when the question was finally "revealed" at the end of "The Wedding of River Song," it was really more of a confirmation. The excess of drama around it was unnecessary. It smacked of a smugness that was unmerited, rather like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat with an exaggerated flourish while the audience sits there and says, "Uh, yeah. We know. Rabbit. Duh."
Okay, so to sum up: I like Doctor Who and want to continue to like Doctor Who, but in order for that to happen, we need some real shake-ups as opposed to these sort of smoke-and-mirror tactics. Let's get out of the comfort zone here, people. Really surprise us. If he can do that—if he can make us go, "Holy s***, really? I never saw that coming!"—Moffat and his crew will have earned the right to pat themselves on the backs.
9.06.2011
Book Review: Instruments of Darkness
Imogen Robertson
Pamela Dorman Books, 2011
384 pages
hardcover
_____________________________________________________
This was one of those books I lucked into at the library while browsing the "new releases" shelves. Picked it up, read the flap, and added it to my stack. That's what's grand about libraries--getting to taste-test the wares at no cost.
And so here was this book that I'd never heard of by an author I'd never heard of, but once I picked it up, I couldn't put it down. It's always nice to find one of those kinds of books now and then.
The story is a sort of murder mystery set in 1780 England, a twisted rope made of three distinct strands: a series of murders in Sussex, another murder in London, and a dark past history of some of the characters involved. All very engaging, particularly for someone like me who (a) likes historical stories, (b) is an Anglophile, and (c) likes anything that smacks even distantly of Sherlock Holmes, which one of the chief characters certainly does. Indeed, I would say Robertson split the archetypical Holmes into two: a man with a scientific and methodical mind and a woman with an intelligent and inquisitive nature. Together they make a formidable crime-solving team. Maybe they could get their own TV series on the BBC.
While some of the story seemed obvious by the time the explanations began to trickle through, and the end of the book sways somewhat toward the Gothic in flavor, the whole of it is satisfying. Definitely worth the read.
Pamela Dorman Books, 2011
384 pages
hardcover
_____________________________________________________
This was one of those books I lucked into at the library while browsing the "new releases" shelves. Picked it up, read the flap, and added it to my stack. That's what's grand about libraries--getting to taste-test the wares at no cost.
And so here was this book that I'd never heard of by an author I'd never heard of, but once I picked it up, I couldn't put it down. It's always nice to find one of those kinds of books now and then.
The story is a sort of murder mystery set in 1780 England, a twisted rope made of three distinct strands: a series of murders in Sussex, another murder in London, and a dark past history of some of the characters involved. All very engaging, particularly for someone like me who (a) likes historical stories, (b) is an Anglophile, and (c) likes anything that smacks even distantly of Sherlock Holmes, which one of the chief characters certainly does. Indeed, I would say Robertson split the archetypical Holmes into two: a man with a scientific and methodical mind and a woman with an intelligent and inquisitive nature. Together they make a formidable crime-solving team. Maybe they could get their own TV series on the BBC.
While some of the story seemed obvious by the time the explanations began to trickle through, and the end of the book sways somewhat toward the Gothic in flavor, the whole of it is satisfying. Definitely worth the read.
8.24.2011
Movie Review: Fright Night
Starring: Anton Yelchin, Colin Farrell, Toni Collette, David Tennant, Imogen Poots
Directed By: Craig Gillespie
Written By: Marti Noxon (screenplay), Tom Holland (story)
Albuquerque Studios/Dreamworks SKG, 2011
R; 106 minutes
2.5 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I went into Fright Night wanting to like it, and I did, but not as much as I hoped.
The story itself is pretty rote: high school nerd-turned-cool kid Charlie (Yelchin) discovers the new neighbor Jerry (Farrell) is a vampire. Hilarity ensues. Except not really because the movie wasn't very funny. At least, not in any intentional way.
Marti Noxon, best known for her work on Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, does a fair job of delivering an even-handed script for this remake (and to be clear, I never saw the original and know nothing about the original, so I have nothing to compare this to in that sense). But the jumps are minimal; viewers can see what's coming from a mile away, so there are few surprises.
It seems like the movie isn't sure how seriously it wants to be taken, so it skimps on both horror and humor and instead ends up rather flat. Farrell does an amusing job of vamping it up, Collette is great as Charlie's mom, and Tennant is underutilized (way to throw in a quick backstory and then drop the ball, guys). Meanwhile, Charlie and his girlfriend Amy (Poots) get the most screen time but are the weakest links. Yelchin does a so-so job of portraying someone whose whole life has been turned upside down by a horrific revelation--he even sees a neighbor burst into flame after he rescues her from Jerry's house and brings her out into dawn's early light--and while Poots is believable as the sweet girlfriend, she's mostly a plot device. In fact, all of Fright Night is so carefully plotted one can pretty much recreate the beat sheet from memory.
However. Because I went in with little or no expectations—just a desire to have fun—I did enjoy the movie. Fright Night flies on autopilot, sure, but it's a smooth enough ride. It entertains, though it could have taken me farther in any direction without my protesting too much. It functions mostly as an extremely diluted R or a trumped-up PG-13. (In fact, I thought it was PG-13 while watching it and found out later it was R, more likely due to all the swearing rather than any excess of gore.)
As for the 3D aspect, this movie, like so many others, really didn't benefit from the added dimension. But at least it didn't give me a headache either.
Fright Night is solidly middle-of-the-road fare, more a rental than a big screen flick.
Directed By: Craig Gillespie
Written By: Marti Noxon (screenplay), Tom Holland (story)
Albuquerque Studios/Dreamworks SKG, 2011
R; 106 minutes
2.5 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I went into Fright Night wanting to like it, and I did, but not as much as I hoped.
The story itself is pretty rote: high school nerd-turned-cool kid Charlie (Yelchin) discovers the new neighbor Jerry (Farrell) is a vampire. Hilarity ensues. Except not really because the movie wasn't very funny. At least, not in any intentional way.
Marti Noxon, best known for her work on Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, does a fair job of delivering an even-handed script for this remake (and to be clear, I never saw the original and know nothing about the original, so I have nothing to compare this to in that sense). But the jumps are minimal; viewers can see what's coming from a mile away, so there are few surprises.
It seems like the movie isn't sure how seriously it wants to be taken, so it skimps on both horror and humor and instead ends up rather flat. Farrell does an amusing job of vamping it up, Collette is great as Charlie's mom, and Tennant is underutilized (way to throw in a quick backstory and then drop the ball, guys). Meanwhile, Charlie and his girlfriend Amy (Poots) get the most screen time but are the weakest links. Yelchin does a so-so job of portraying someone whose whole life has been turned upside down by a horrific revelation--he even sees a neighbor burst into flame after he rescues her from Jerry's house and brings her out into dawn's early light--and while Poots is believable as the sweet girlfriend, she's mostly a plot device. In fact, all of Fright Night is so carefully plotted one can pretty much recreate the beat sheet from memory.
However. Because I went in with little or no expectations—just a desire to have fun—I did enjoy the movie. Fright Night flies on autopilot, sure, but it's a smooth enough ride. It entertains, though it could have taken me farther in any direction without my protesting too much. It functions mostly as an extremely diluted R or a trumped-up PG-13. (In fact, I thought it was PG-13 while watching it and found out later it was R, more likely due to all the swearing rather than any excess of gore.)
As for the 3D aspect, this movie, like so many others, really didn't benefit from the added dimension. But at least it didn't give me a headache either.
Fright Night is solidly middle-of-the-road fare, more a rental than a big screen flick.
8.18.2011
Book Review: Bespelling Jane Austen
Featuring Stories by: Mary Balogh, Colleen Gleason, Susan Krinard, Janet Mullany
HQN, 2010
378 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
I totally picked this one up off the library shelf as a "maybe," you know, the way one does when one is browsing and begins collecting a giant pile of stuff that might be interesting. It's the same thing that happens when you're at the grocery store and aren't entirely sure what you might be hungry for later, so you toss anything that might seem likely into the cart.
Okay, so first off, I'm not familiar with any of these authors. I do read romances from time to time--used to read Regency romances quite regularly before so many of the romance publishers nixed them. And I do like Jane Austen. And I like a little magic and/or magical realism every now and then, too. So this one seemed like an interesting mix.
The conceit of the collection is that the four authors have each taken a Jane Austen novel and rewritten it in some way while also inserting a sort of paranormal or Gothic/horror element into it. Think of that whole Pride and Prejudice and Zombies phenomenon that occurred a couple years back and you're on the right track, but this is on a smaller scale, the stories much reduced to fit the collection.
So taken one by one, Mary Balogh turned Austen's Persuasion into a story about soul mates and reincarnation. It's a nice idea but I didn't love the execution. As I've mentioned, I'm not familiar with Balogh's other works--according to the blurb she's written 70+ books, many of them set in Regency England. But this one just didn't ring right to me somehow. There seemed to be a lot of tell and less show. Or maybe the problem was she showed and then, just to be sure the reader understood, she then told as well, so it seemed like overkill.
Gleason took Northanger Abbey, which quite lends itself to the whole idea of Gothic horror, and had Catherine hunting vampires at Bath and then, naturally, at Northanger, which for the purposes of the story became a castle. This one was cute, and I liked it, but I felt it could have been fleshed out a bit more; the ending seemed rushed.
Krinard did a nice job of turning Mr Darcy--and numerous other characters--of Pride and Prejudice into a vampire. Though the story is set in modern day Manhattan, Darcy is able to keep all the lusture of his prim and exacting personality by dint of the fact that he is 200 or so years old and, as they say, old habits . . . While I didn't 100% believe the way these "modern" Bennet girls talked and behaved, the story as a whole was well done.
And finally, Mullany cast Emma into modern day Washington D.C., where the title character is a witch running an online dating service for paranormal creatures such as vampires, elves, werewolves . . . Now, I've never read Emma (though I know she is supposedly a would-be matchmaker), so I can't say whether the characters in Mullany's story bear any resemblance to the originals--their magical abilities notwithstanding. But honestly, there wasn't a single person (creature) that I could like in the whole thing. They were all of them obnoxious. (My husband assures me this is true of Austen's book as well.) At any rate, the tale seemed a bit cobbled and cliched.
All in all, I'm not sorry I took the time to read it. Out of sheer curiosity I might consider taking a look at any one of the authors' other books to see how they measure up.
HQN, 2010
378 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
I totally picked this one up off the library shelf as a "maybe," you know, the way one does when one is browsing and begins collecting a giant pile of stuff that might be interesting. It's the same thing that happens when you're at the grocery store and aren't entirely sure what you might be hungry for later, so you toss anything that might seem likely into the cart.
Okay, so first off, I'm not familiar with any of these authors. I do read romances from time to time--used to read Regency romances quite regularly before so many of the romance publishers nixed them. And I do like Jane Austen. And I like a little magic and/or magical realism every now and then, too. So this one seemed like an interesting mix.
The conceit of the collection is that the four authors have each taken a Jane Austen novel and rewritten it in some way while also inserting a sort of paranormal or Gothic/horror element into it. Think of that whole Pride and Prejudice and Zombies phenomenon that occurred a couple years back and you're on the right track, but this is on a smaller scale, the stories much reduced to fit the collection.
So taken one by one, Mary Balogh turned Austen's Persuasion into a story about soul mates and reincarnation. It's a nice idea but I didn't love the execution. As I've mentioned, I'm not familiar with Balogh's other works--according to the blurb she's written 70+ books, many of them set in Regency England. But this one just didn't ring right to me somehow. There seemed to be a lot of tell and less show. Or maybe the problem was she showed and then, just to be sure the reader understood, she then told as well, so it seemed like overkill.
Gleason took Northanger Abbey, which quite lends itself to the whole idea of Gothic horror, and had Catherine hunting vampires at Bath and then, naturally, at Northanger, which for the purposes of the story became a castle. This one was cute, and I liked it, but I felt it could have been fleshed out a bit more; the ending seemed rushed.
Krinard did a nice job of turning Mr Darcy--and numerous other characters--of Pride and Prejudice into a vampire. Though the story is set in modern day Manhattan, Darcy is able to keep all the lusture of his prim and exacting personality by dint of the fact that he is 200 or so years old and, as they say, old habits . . . While I didn't 100% believe the way these "modern" Bennet girls talked and behaved, the story as a whole was well done.
And finally, Mullany cast Emma into modern day Washington D.C., where the title character is a witch running an online dating service for paranormal creatures such as vampires, elves, werewolves . . . Now, I've never read Emma (though I know she is supposedly a would-be matchmaker), so I can't say whether the characters in Mullany's story bear any resemblance to the originals--their magical abilities notwithstanding. But honestly, there wasn't a single person (creature) that I could like in the whole thing. They were all of them obnoxious. (My husband assures me this is true of Austen's book as well.) At any rate, the tale seemed a bit cobbled and cliched.
All in all, I'm not sorry I took the time to read it. Out of sheer curiosity I might consider taking a look at any one of the authors' other books to see how they measure up.
7.19.2011
Movie Review: The Other Boleyn Girl
Starring: Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson, Eric Bana
Directed By: Justin Chadwick
Written By: Peter Morgan, from the novel by Philippa Gregory
BBC Films, 2008
PG-13; 115 minutes
2 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
The Other Boleyn Girl was the first of Philippa Gregory's novels that I ever read—I picked it up at an airport bookstore, as I recall, prior to some trip—and probably still my favorite. So maybe this movie already had a strike against it going in, or at the very least some prejudice to overcome.
But here's the thing: while I can remember liking the book quite a lot, it's been long enough since I read it (and I've read enough other stuff since then) that I only remember a few details from the novel. So it's not as if I were watching this movie and saying to myself, "Well, in the book . . ."
What I was doing was thinking, "None of this rings much of a bell."
That is to say, the movie itself felt vague and without substance. I know enough about Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn to pick out the historical blurs in the story, but that didn't bother me so much; it's happened often enough that film and television punch things up, move things around, for the sake of a better story. Fine. But this didn't feel like a better story. It felt like a mishmash, a jumble of events that were weirdly disconnected, or maybe only thinly connected, like pearls held apart from one another on the same string. For example, William Carey at some point dies, though one either has to know the history or watch the deleted scenes to figure that out.
Johansson, for her part, did a lovely job as the demur Mary Boleyn. And Portman is believable as someone underhanded and nasty, though her luring of Bana's Henry didn't play quite true. The tension was lacking. In fact, every actor did a fair to fantastic job, but when put all together, the movie fell short of the sum of its parts. Baffling.
Makes me want to go re-read the book.
Directed By: Justin Chadwick
Written By: Peter Morgan, from the novel by Philippa Gregory
BBC Films, 2008
PG-13; 115 minutes
2 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
The Other Boleyn Girl was the first of Philippa Gregory's novels that I ever read—I picked it up at an airport bookstore, as I recall, prior to some trip—and probably still my favorite. So maybe this movie already had a strike against it going in, or at the very least some prejudice to overcome.
But here's the thing: while I can remember liking the book quite a lot, it's been long enough since I read it (and I've read enough other stuff since then) that I only remember a few details from the novel. So it's not as if I were watching this movie and saying to myself, "Well, in the book . . ."
What I was doing was thinking, "None of this rings much of a bell."
That is to say, the movie itself felt vague and without substance. I know enough about Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn to pick out the historical blurs in the story, but that didn't bother me so much; it's happened often enough that film and television punch things up, move things around, for the sake of a better story. Fine. But this didn't feel like a better story. It felt like a mishmash, a jumble of events that were weirdly disconnected, or maybe only thinly connected, like pearls held apart from one another on the same string. For example, William Carey at some point dies, though one either has to know the history or watch the deleted scenes to figure that out.
Johansson, for her part, did a lovely job as the demur Mary Boleyn. And Portman is believable as someone underhanded and nasty, though her luring of Bana's Henry didn't play quite true. The tension was lacking. In fact, every actor did a fair to fantastic job, but when put all together, the movie fell short of the sum of its parts. Baffling.
Makes me want to go re-read the book.
7.18.2011
Book Review: A Little Folly
Jude Morgan
Review, 2010
384 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I have a fondness for Jude Morgan. I especially enjoyed his novel Indiscretion, and I rather liked this one as well. Morgan takes on the mantel of a would-be Austen with relative ease, peppering his prose with just the right balance of wit and sensibility. His characters are flawed and quirky and interesting enough to pull the reader through the story, even when it starts to be clear exactly how and where that story is likely to end.
At first I could see A Little Folly going in any number of directions, but at a little shy of halfway through it became clear where Morgan was aiming. I don't know how much of this was due to Morgan tipping his hand and how much was simply because I've read enough of these kinds of books to see what's coming. In in case, it only diminished the enjoyment very slightly. The prose bears up even when the reader knows how the story will finish.
An example of Morgan's pitch-perfect humor:
Review, 2010
384 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I have a fondness for Jude Morgan. I especially enjoyed his novel Indiscretion, and I rather liked this one as well. Morgan takes on the mantel of a would-be Austen with relative ease, peppering his prose with just the right balance of wit and sensibility. His characters are flawed and quirky and interesting enough to pull the reader through the story, even when it starts to be clear exactly how and where that story is likely to end.
At first I could see A Little Folly going in any number of directions, but at a little shy of halfway through it became clear where Morgan was aiming. I don't know how much of this was due to Morgan tipping his hand and how much was simply because I've read enough of these kinds of books to see what's coming. In in case, it only diminished the enjoyment very slightly. The prose bears up even when the reader knows how the story will finish.
An example of Morgan's pitch-perfect humor:
To excite in a man a state of violent loathing was, as any novel-reader knew, to stand in a fair light of winning him at last; but no woman could ever recover from the humiliation of being respected.Morgan's writing is full of these lovely tidbits, and I often recommend his books to friends who enjoy Austen or Regency stories in general. A Little Folly is, then, another in a list of his good works.
7.06.2011
Movie Review: The Adjustment Bureau
Starring: Matt Damon, Emily Blunt, John Slattery
Directed By: George Nolfi
Written By: George Nolfi, from the story by Philip K. Dick
Universal Pictures, 2011
PG-13; 106 minutes
3 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I wanted to see this in the theater when it came out but never got the chance. That's okay. It's not some big spectacle movie that benefits from a big screen.
The story is solid, thanks to Philip K. Dick's "The Adjustment Team." The directing is textbook, which is to say it isn't bad and isn't particularly memorable, either. Some of the dialogue, particularly toward the end, is a bit of a groaner. It takes a special kind of actor (Damon) to deliver such lines evenly and sincerely.
In short, The Adjustment Bureau is the story of politician David Norris, played by Damon, whose destiny is to be great . . . Except he has a run-in with a ballerina (Blunt) that throws him off course. And her, too, by default. Meanwhile, the whole "plan" is maintained by pseudo-angelic businessmen in natty suits and hats (which I suppose are stand-ins for halos), including Slattery. When Norris accidentally gets a glimpse inside the mechanism that maps his existence, he becomes determined to change his fate. It seems he can be a great politician or get the girl but not both.
Of course, the movie is designed to be a discussion piece. Free will? Preordained destiny? But The Adjustment Bureau is almost too sweet-tempered to foster any dialogue. There's nothing in it to get fired up about. Which is a shame, because with a little more punch, it would have been a great movie instead of just a good one.
Guess it wasn't meant to be.
Directed By: George Nolfi
Written By: George Nolfi, from the story by Philip K. Dick
Universal Pictures, 2011
PG-13; 106 minutes
3 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I wanted to see this in the theater when it came out but never got the chance. That's okay. It's not some big spectacle movie that benefits from a big screen.
The story is solid, thanks to Philip K. Dick's "The Adjustment Team." The directing is textbook, which is to say it isn't bad and isn't particularly memorable, either. Some of the dialogue, particularly toward the end, is a bit of a groaner. It takes a special kind of actor (Damon) to deliver such lines evenly and sincerely.
In short, The Adjustment Bureau is the story of politician David Norris, played by Damon, whose destiny is to be great . . . Except he has a run-in with a ballerina (Blunt) that throws him off course. And her, too, by default. Meanwhile, the whole "plan" is maintained by pseudo-angelic businessmen in natty suits and hats (which I suppose are stand-ins for halos), including Slattery. When Norris accidentally gets a glimpse inside the mechanism that maps his existence, he becomes determined to change his fate. It seems he can be a great politician or get the girl but not both.
Of course, the movie is designed to be a discussion piece. Free will? Preordained destiny? But The Adjustment Bureau is almost too sweet-tempered to foster any dialogue. There's nothing in it to get fired up about. Which is a shame, because with a little more punch, it would have been a great movie instead of just a good one.
Guess it wasn't meant to be.
6.28.2011
Currently Reading . . .
Throne of Fire by Rick Riordan, though I'm not sure why. I seem compelled to read these books--the Percy Jackson ones and now these Kane Chronicles--even though they all have the exact same formula. Admittedly, I still have The Lost Hero on my bookshelf. I nearly finished reading it. Nearly. And I'm struggling with Throne of Fire, too.
What I'd like right about now is a nice Jude Morgan book that I haven't already read. I don't guess there are many of them out there, though, from what I can see. The only one I haven't read yet is on my Amazon wish list because our library doesn't have it.
I also keep meaning to grab Andromeda Klein off the hubby's bookshelf and read it. I bought it for him for some holiday or birthday a year or so ago because he liked the other Frank Portman book so much, but he never finished that one. #wifefail
And I want to try Andrew Lane's Young Sherlock series, too, but (and this is me being picky) I don't like the artwork for the U.S. books, so . . . Maybe I'll have to order them? Haven't decided.
What I'd like right about now is a nice Jude Morgan book that I haven't already read. I don't guess there are many of them out there, though, from what I can see. The only one I haven't read yet is on my Amazon wish list because our library doesn't have it.
I also keep meaning to grab Andromeda Klein off the hubby's bookshelf and read it. I bought it for him for some holiday or birthday a year or so ago because he liked the other Frank Portman book so much, but he never finished that one. #wifefail
And I want to try Andrew Lane's Young Sherlock series, too, but (and this is me being picky) I don't like the artwork for the U.S. books, so . . . Maybe I'll have to order them? Haven't decided.
6.22.2011
Book Review: Cleopatra: A Life
Stacy Schiff
Little Brown, 2010
384 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
Full disclosure up front. I like history. I minored in ancient and classical history as an undergrad. (Well, we didn't have "minors." We had "secondary concentrations," but it's the same idea.) So this book might not be everybody's cup of tea, but if you like history—or are at least curious about it—but find a lot of the texts dry and lacking in flavor, try this one. Assuming you're at all interested in Cleopatra, of course.
People have been fascinated with Cleopatra VII for centuries. Hell, they were fascinated with her when she was alive, much less afterward. And for all that—all that people think they know, all that people believe to be true about her—we actually know very little. The asp, for example? No one knows for sure, but it's highly unlikely Cleopatra died of a snakebite.
It was nice of Schiff to write this book. In my mind, it's kind of a service. To put in plainer English the truths, to parse out what has been said and the biases involved, the political spins, etc.—this book works as a nice summary for all that. Saves one the work of reading Dio and Plutarch and trying to cut through their agenda. Octavian (aka Augustus) won, after all, which means he and his had the final word. Those words weren't always flattering, nevermind true. Schiff does a nice job of picking them apart.
Still and all, much of Cleopatra's life, what she said or did and why, continues to be a mystery. Conjecture at best. Which is probably why people continue to be fascinated. Tragic love story? Political thriller? All these elements contribute to the lore of Cleopatra, a lore that has been fodder for innumerable books (fiction and non), movies and television mini-series. And will for a long time yet. Even now there is discussion of bringing Schiff's book to the big screen, rumors of having Angelina Jolie play the title role. What other larger-than-life character could any actress aspire to? Cleopatra might define the actress--look at the late Liz Taylor--but she herself refuses to be conscribed.
Though Schiff does a fine job of trying.
Little Brown, 2010
384 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
Full disclosure up front. I like history. I minored in ancient and classical history as an undergrad. (Well, we didn't have "minors." We had "secondary concentrations," but it's the same idea.) So this book might not be everybody's cup of tea, but if you like history—or are at least curious about it—but find a lot of the texts dry and lacking in flavor, try this one. Assuming you're at all interested in Cleopatra, of course.
People have been fascinated with Cleopatra VII for centuries. Hell, they were fascinated with her when she was alive, much less afterward. And for all that—all that people think they know, all that people believe to be true about her—we actually know very little. The asp, for example? No one knows for sure, but it's highly unlikely Cleopatra died of a snakebite.
It was nice of Schiff to write this book. In my mind, it's kind of a service. To put in plainer English the truths, to parse out what has been said and the biases involved, the political spins, etc.—this book works as a nice summary for all that. Saves one the work of reading Dio and Plutarch and trying to cut through their agenda. Octavian (aka Augustus) won, after all, which means he and his had the final word. Those words weren't always flattering, nevermind true. Schiff does a nice job of picking them apart.
Still and all, much of Cleopatra's life, what she said or did and why, continues to be a mystery. Conjecture at best. Which is probably why people continue to be fascinated. Tragic love story? Political thriller? All these elements contribute to the lore of Cleopatra, a lore that has been fodder for innumerable books (fiction and non), movies and television mini-series. And will for a long time yet. Even now there is discussion of bringing Schiff's book to the big screen, rumors of having Angelina Jolie play the title role. What other larger-than-life character could any actress aspire to? Cleopatra might define the actress--look at the late Liz Taylor--but she herself refuses to be conscribed.
Though Schiff does a fine job of trying.
Book Preview: Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?
Mindy Kaling
Crown Archetype, 2011
224 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
To be clear, this book won't be out until November, and I've only read selected excerpts.
But I like what I've seen. It's difficult to tell from the selections how cohesive the book is likely to be as a whole; the flavor thus far is very sort of Dave Barry essay-esque. And so there's a lot of humor, which one would expect from one of the writers and actors for The Office, but also some sensitivity and sweetness.
Then again, maybe I only like it because I can totally relate to Kaling's high school experiences and the fact that she likes Sherlock Holmes.
In any case, IEHOWM? is on my Amazon.com wish list. You know, if anyone is looking to buy me something. In November.
Crown Archetype, 2011
224 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
To be clear, this book won't be out until November, and I've only read selected excerpts.
But I like what I've seen. It's difficult to tell from the selections how cohesive the book is likely to be as a whole; the flavor thus far is very sort of Dave Barry essay-esque. And so there's a lot of humor, which one would expect from one of the writers and actors for The Office, but also some sensitivity and sweetness.
Then again, maybe I only like it because I can totally relate to Kaling's high school experiences and the fact that she likes Sherlock Holmes.
In any case, IEHOWM? is on my Amazon.com wish list. You know, if anyone is looking to buy me something. In November.
3.30.2011
Why I'm Not Renewing My Subscription to Entertainment Weekly
I've been reading Entertainment Weekly since it first came to newsstands when I was a teenager. I didn't have a job, but I dedicated a significant amount of my allowance for a subscription. Because it was awesome. The photos, the articles—I ate it all up. I have many issues of the magazine stockpiled in my collection, and many more were sacrificed to be cut up for my scrapbooks. And while there have been lapses in my subscriptions (lack of funds, too many moves), I've more or less been a consistent subscriber. But we received our renewal notice in the mail yesterday, and I'm thinking I won't be renewing.
Why now? After I've stuck it out through many EW changes in format and tone? The bottom line is that I find less and less in each issue that I actually want to read. The stuff they cover just doesn't interest me. I flip past article after article and can finish the magazine in roughly an hour, whereas it used to be that I curled up with it every Friday evening to read it cover-to-cover and still sometimes fell asleep before I could finish.
This might say more about me than about EW. Maybe I'm just old and EW is looking for that hot, hip young audience. (Sorry to break it to you, Eebz, but those kids don't read magazines; they're all online.) Maybe I've outgrown it, or maybe I'm just too much in the minority when it comes to my entertainment tastes. (For example, I don't watch reality television and couldn't give a rat's ass about Twilight.) Or it's just as likely that I can glean the things I want to know from the Internet. I can follow my favorite shows and musicians that way . . . Though I do miss all the nice pictures.
Meanwhile, I don't visit EW.com much, either. In part because they don't cover much of what I like, and in part because I dislike the format of the site itself, which I find busy and somewhat irritating. They also seemed to have struggled in finding quality writing in recent years, which is kind of a shame since there was a time when I used to think being a writer for EW would be just about the Best. Thing. Ever. But with so many media outlets now—a sea of them as opposed to the pool there used to be—the cream that rises to the top also sort of floats away in various directions.
A few months ago, my parents shipped me one of many boxes of my old stuff they'd had in storage, and there were many old issues of EW included. My husband and I took the time to flip through a few, and he said to me: "Remember when EW was good?" Yeah, I do, even if the memory is faded. And that's why I won't be renewing my subscription now.
Why now? After I've stuck it out through many EW changes in format and tone? The bottom line is that I find less and less in each issue that I actually want to read. The stuff they cover just doesn't interest me. I flip past article after article and can finish the magazine in roughly an hour, whereas it used to be that I curled up with it every Friday evening to read it cover-to-cover and still sometimes fell asleep before I could finish.
This might say more about me than about EW. Maybe I'm just old and EW is looking for that hot, hip young audience. (Sorry to break it to you, Eebz, but those kids don't read magazines; they're all online.) Maybe I've outgrown it, or maybe I'm just too much in the minority when it comes to my entertainment tastes. (For example, I don't watch reality television and couldn't give a rat's ass about Twilight.) Or it's just as likely that I can glean the things I want to know from the Internet. I can follow my favorite shows and musicians that way . . . Though I do miss all the nice pictures.
Meanwhile, I don't visit EW.com much, either. In part because they don't cover much of what I like, and in part because I dislike the format of the site itself, which I find busy and somewhat irritating. They also seemed to have struggled in finding quality writing in recent years, which is kind of a shame since there was a time when I used to think being a writer for EW would be just about the Best. Thing. Ever. But with so many media outlets now—a sea of them as opposed to the pool there used to be—the cream that rises to the top also sort of floats away in various directions.
A few months ago, my parents shipped me one of many boxes of my old stuff they'd had in storage, and there were many old issues of EW included. My husband and I took the time to flip through a few, and he said to me: "Remember when EW was good?" Yeah, I do, even if the memory is faded. And that's why I won't be renewing my subscription now.
3.17.2011
BookSwim
Okay, so I decided to try a free trial of BookSwim. They bill themselves as a way to "rent" books the way you do movies from Netflix. One could easily ask, "Isn't that what a library is for?" And the answer would be: yes, yes it is. BUT . . . BookSwim delivers to your door. So no pesky driving or walking or taking the bus--whatever it is you, personally, do to get to your local library.
It's a good idea in theory, but I found the execution lacking. Maybe BookSwim is still getting its sea legs. For one thing, their inventory is not very broad. A lot of what I looked for they didn't have. And the one book at the top of my "pool" (as they call your queue) was never available. Even when I was supposed to be able to guarantee it. In an age when I can go online to my local library's site and request books and see where I place on the waiting list for books, BookSwim comes up a little short.
Maybe it works better for college kids wanting to "rent" textbooks instead of buying them. I wouldn't know, since I've been out of grad school for a decade now. But maybe BookSwim has some great storehouse of college textbooks somewhere; they just don't have much by way of "regular" titles. Yet. I would like to think it's coming, that they're building on what they have or something. But there are difficulties. Imagine trying to retain enough books for several thousand people to borrow--from anywhere in the U.S. and with no return due date. Tricky.
Also, the books I did receive were not in very good condition. Worse than what you'd expect from very old library books.
My free trial is coming to an end, and I'll be canceling my subscription. It's back to my public library for me.
It's a good idea in theory, but I found the execution lacking. Maybe BookSwim is still getting its sea legs. For one thing, their inventory is not very broad. A lot of what I looked for they didn't have. And the one book at the top of my "pool" (as they call your queue) was never available. Even when I was supposed to be able to guarantee it. In an age when I can go online to my local library's site and request books and see where I place on the waiting list for books, BookSwim comes up a little short.
Maybe it works better for college kids wanting to "rent" textbooks instead of buying them. I wouldn't know, since I've been out of grad school for a decade now. But maybe BookSwim has some great storehouse of college textbooks somewhere; they just don't have much by way of "regular" titles. Yet. I would like to think it's coming, that they're building on what they have or something. But there are difficulties. Imagine trying to retain enough books for several thousand people to borrow--from anywhere in the U.S. and with no return due date. Tricky.
Also, the books I did receive were not in very good condition. Worse than what you'd expect from very old library books.
My free trial is coming to an end, and I'll be canceling my subscription. It's back to my public library for me.
3.14.2011
Movie Review: The Ghost Writer
Starring: Ewan McGregor, Pierce Brosnan, Olivia Williams, Tom Wilkinson
Directed By: Roman Polanski
Written By: Robert Harris (novel, screenplay), Roman Polanski (screenplay)
R.P. Films, 2010
PG-13; 128 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I had been meaning to see this one for a while. The premise wasn't all that catchy: a ghost writer is hired to spruce of the memoirs of an ex-Prime Minister of Great Britain. But all the reviews I read were remarkably good, and I usually enjoy Ewan McGregor, so I thought I'd give it a whirl. And I'm glad I did. As my husband pointed out, they don't really make suspense movies like The Ghost Writer any more. There's something very old school about it; maybe it has to do with Polanski and Harris, who are themselves somewhat old guard. But the tone of the film, the lighting and such, is all very well done. Never mind that I had it more or less sorted out at the halfway mark; it was still enjoyable to watch play out.
The Ghost Writer isn't perfect. It has the distinct feeling of having been cut down from something fattier (the novel, one supposes). Sometimes that's good, but in this case one almost wants the added flavor of the fat, metaphorically speaking. I was left satisfied but still thinking a few deeper insights into the characters might have been nice. In the end it only serves to whet my appetite for the novel, which I hadn't ever considered reading, but now I might, if only to feel like I got a full meal.
Directed By: Roman Polanski
Written By: Robert Harris (novel, screenplay), Roman Polanski (screenplay)
R.P. Films, 2010
PG-13; 128 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I had been meaning to see this one for a while. The premise wasn't all that catchy: a ghost writer is hired to spruce of the memoirs of an ex-Prime Minister of Great Britain. But all the reviews I read were remarkably good, and I usually enjoy Ewan McGregor, so I thought I'd give it a whirl. And I'm glad I did. As my husband pointed out, they don't really make suspense movies like The Ghost Writer any more. There's something very old school about it; maybe it has to do with Polanski and Harris, who are themselves somewhat old guard. But the tone of the film, the lighting and such, is all very well done. Never mind that I had it more or less sorted out at the halfway mark; it was still enjoyable to watch play out.
The Ghost Writer isn't perfect. It has the distinct feeling of having been cut down from something fattier (the novel, one supposes). Sometimes that's good, but in this case one almost wants the added flavor of the fat, metaphorically speaking. I was left satisfied but still thinking a few deeper insights into the characters might have been nice. In the end it only serves to whet my appetite for the novel, which I hadn't ever considered reading, but now I might, if only to feel like I got a full meal.
3.13.2011
Movie Review: Atonement
Starring: James McAvoy, Keira Knightly, Saorsie Ronan
Directed By: Joe Wright
Written By: Ian McEwan (novel), Christopher Hampton (screenplay)
Universal, 2007 (limited release)
R; 123 minutes
2 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I realize I'm really late on this one. I recall trying to read an Ian McEwan novel--can't remember which--some years ago and being bored to tears within a handful of pages. So I didn't finish it and I never tried another. This one fact should have tipped me off about this movie, but it was so widely well received, I felt it deserved a chance. So one night when my husband was traveling, I watched Atonement via Vudu.
It was a waste of time, for me at least. The characters I might have liked or at least found interesting didn't get enough screen time or development. And the chief characters were difficult to like or care about. At the end of it all, I felt like I'd just watched a two-hour movie about a bunch of British people falling into various bodies of water. And I understand that water is recognized by literati as the token symbol of baptism and being washed clean, etc., but honest to God, talk about overkill. If it had been a pie-in-the-face comedy routine, there would have been a dozen pies and the audience would have stopped laughing long before it was finished. As it was, the movie is a drama/tragedy sort of thing, so it's both a downer and--with all that water--a drowner.
The catalytic moment in the story relies heavily on both coincidence and poor decision making. Several people must make a series of bad choices to get to the point where the main character finds she must atone(!) for what she's done and what has befallen the other characters. It's something of a stretch, and not even that compelling. By the time I got to what's supposed to be the Big Twist, I really didn't care any more.
Anyway, I can't look at James McAvoy and not think, Mr. Tumnus! I think I could have liked him in the film if I could've brought myself to care. Maybe something vital was left on the cutting room floor. Maybe the book really is better. Not that it would take much.
Directed By: Joe Wright
Written By: Ian McEwan (novel), Christopher Hampton (screenplay)
Universal, 2007 (limited release)
R; 123 minutes
2 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
I realize I'm really late on this one. I recall trying to read an Ian McEwan novel--can't remember which--some years ago and being bored to tears within a handful of pages. So I didn't finish it and I never tried another. This one fact should have tipped me off about this movie, but it was so widely well received, I felt it deserved a chance. So one night when my husband was traveling, I watched Atonement via Vudu.
It was a waste of time, for me at least. The characters I might have liked or at least found interesting didn't get enough screen time or development. And the chief characters were difficult to like or care about. At the end of it all, I felt like I'd just watched a two-hour movie about a bunch of British people falling into various bodies of water. And I understand that water is recognized by literati as the token symbol of baptism and being washed clean, etc., but honest to God, talk about overkill. If it had been a pie-in-the-face comedy routine, there would have been a dozen pies and the audience would have stopped laughing long before it was finished. As it was, the movie is a drama/tragedy sort of thing, so it's both a downer and--with all that water--a drowner.
The catalytic moment in the story relies heavily on both coincidence and poor decision making. Several people must make a series of bad choices to get to the point where the main character finds she must atone(!) for what she's done and what has befallen the other characters. It's something of a stretch, and not even that compelling. By the time I got to what's supposed to be the Big Twist, I really didn't care any more.
Anyway, I can't look at James McAvoy and not think, Mr. Tumnus! I think I could have liked him in the film if I could've brought myself to care. Maybe something vital was left on the cutting room floor. Maybe the book really is better. Not that it would take much.
2.28.2011
Book Review: Disaster Preparedness
Heather Havrilesky
Riverhead Books, 2010
240 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I picked this one up from the library because one of the myriad of magazines I receive each month did a blurb recommending it. And it was a cute, sweet read, a quick read, something I could take in bite-sized chunks between the kids' naps and such. Nothing I couldn't put down, which sometimes is better because otherwise you let the television babysit a bit too much.
Havrilesky does a nice job of capturing a particular time, growing up in the 70s and 80s, though by my estimation she has about five years on me. Still, my experiences were similar, even though my parents aren't divorced and I don't have siblings--which is a credit to the writer, that I could still relate to what she had to say despite differing circumstances. Maybe it's something about the parents of our generation, or maybe it's that we grew up during the tail end of the Cold War and had to live through the drills of hunkering under our desks as if that would ever do anything to save us if the bombs fell. Maybe it's because I, too, had a day when it was made clear to me that my clothes did not come from a "good" store (weren't clothes just clothes?) and learned then to begin longing for and aspiring to something better. Like her, I had a moment of wondering whether the people at church were all wrong. And like Haverilesky, I can look back and simultaneously mourn my lost innocence and kick a little dirt at it. We all use our histories to our own ends, after all, and sometimes we can extend them for others' use, which is more or less what Havrilesky does. Whether the reader can find anything to use will probably be a more personal issue; the book wouldn't work for a different generation, perhaps, or maybe it breaks along gender lines. I don't know.
What it comes down to is that I can recommend it in general, but at the same time I understand that this book won't be for everybody. Chalk it up to "worth a shot."
Riverhead Books, 2010
240 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I picked this one up from the library because one of the myriad of magazines I receive each month did a blurb recommending it. And it was a cute, sweet read, a quick read, something I could take in bite-sized chunks between the kids' naps and such. Nothing I couldn't put down, which sometimes is better because otherwise you let the television babysit a bit too much.
Havrilesky does a nice job of capturing a particular time, growing up in the 70s and 80s, though by my estimation she has about five years on me. Still, my experiences were similar, even though my parents aren't divorced and I don't have siblings--which is a credit to the writer, that I could still relate to what she had to say despite differing circumstances. Maybe it's something about the parents of our generation, or maybe it's that we grew up during the tail end of the Cold War and had to live through the drills of hunkering under our desks as if that would ever do anything to save us if the bombs fell. Maybe it's because I, too, had a day when it was made clear to me that my clothes did not come from a "good" store (weren't clothes just clothes?) and learned then to begin longing for and aspiring to something better. Like her, I had a moment of wondering whether the people at church were all wrong. And like Haverilesky, I can look back and simultaneously mourn my lost innocence and kick a little dirt at it. We all use our histories to our own ends, after all, and sometimes we can extend them for others' use, which is more or less what Havrilesky does. Whether the reader can find anything to use will probably be a more personal issue; the book wouldn't work for a different generation, perhaps, or maybe it breaks along gender lines. I don't know.
What it comes down to is that I can recommend it in general, but at the same time I understand that this book won't be for everybody. Chalk it up to "worth a shot."
6.29.2010
Book Review: Haunt Me Still by Jennifer Lee Carrell
6.27.2010
Movie Review: Toy Story 3
Featuring the Voice Talents of: Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Ned Beatty, Michael Keaton, Timothy Dalton
Directed By: Lee Unkrich
Written By: Michael Arndt, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich
Pixar Animation, 2010
G; 103 minutes
5 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
No one does nostalgia quite like Pixar. The team there--writers, animators, directors, producers--all seem to understand the process of looking over one's shoulder at the past and the warm feelings that can engender. Perhaps it's part of being in the animation business, which itself has a long history and by nature builds on what came before. Pixar has looked back at "Main Street U.S.A." in Cars and it's done revisited childhood repeatedly in the first two Toy Story movies as well as Monsters, Inc. And in Toy Story 3 they do it again.
For all that, it never gets old.
Being that I have a 5-year-old son, a 2-year-old daughter, and a 10-month-old baby boy, I am perhaps primed for the emotional overdrive that Pixar serves up in the third Toy Story installment. The opening moments feature a young Andy and his little sister Molly playing with their beloved toys in home video footage. This hits so close to home in my current experiences that I could not help but tear up a bit. And then it is revealed that Andy is now 17 and going away to college. Those beloved toys--the ones we the audience have become so fond of over previous films--have been whittled down to a core few that haven't been played with in years. They sit unused in a toy chest in Andy's room, plotting ways to get Andy's attention in the hopes of being played with again, or maybe just held for a few moments.
As Andy readies himself for college, he begins to empty out his room, and the toy story really begins. Will they be consigned to the attic or (*gulp*) the trash bin? Mishaps occur and the toys end up donated to a day care center, thus setting off on new adventures.
I won't give anything else away, but while I didn't 100% understand the day care center toys' motivations for doing some of what they do in the film, I did 100% enjoy the movie. And I did cry some more at the end.
As for my 5-year-old (who saw the movie with my husband and I), he says he liked it, but he "likes the other numbers better" (meaning the first two films). This may only be because of the 3D element involved in this one, though, since my son says he didn't like things "going in his eyes." I could have done without the 3D myself, as I didn't find it necessary to the story or even particularly amazing in design. Mostly it gave me a headache.
But the movie itself was touching and fun, which is what I've come to expect from Pixar. Like Peter Pan in Never Never Land, the animation studio roots itself in a refusal to grow up (in heart, though its technique only gets better with time), and in turn the audience keeps coming back if only to feel young again themselves.
Directed By: Lee Unkrich
Written By: Michael Arndt, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich
Pixar Animation, 2010
G; 103 minutes
5 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
No one does nostalgia quite like Pixar. The team there--writers, animators, directors, producers--all seem to understand the process of looking over one's shoulder at the past and the warm feelings that can engender. Perhaps it's part of being in the animation business, which itself has a long history and by nature builds on what came before. Pixar has looked back at "Main Street U.S.A." in Cars and it's done revisited childhood repeatedly in the first two Toy Story movies as well as Monsters, Inc. And in Toy Story 3 they do it again.
For all that, it never gets old.
Being that I have a 5-year-old son, a 2-year-old daughter, and a 10-month-old baby boy, I am perhaps primed for the emotional overdrive that Pixar serves up in the third Toy Story installment. The opening moments feature a young Andy and his little sister Molly playing with their beloved toys in home video footage. This hits so close to home in my current experiences that I could not help but tear up a bit. And then it is revealed that Andy is now 17 and going away to college. Those beloved toys--the ones we the audience have become so fond of over previous films--have been whittled down to a core few that haven't been played with in years. They sit unused in a toy chest in Andy's room, plotting ways to get Andy's attention in the hopes of being played with again, or maybe just held for a few moments.
As Andy readies himself for college, he begins to empty out his room, and the toy story really begins. Will they be consigned to the attic or (*gulp*) the trash bin? Mishaps occur and the toys end up donated to a day care center, thus setting off on new adventures.
I won't give anything else away, but while I didn't 100% understand the day care center toys' motivations for doing some of what they do in the film, I did 100% enjoy the movie. And I did cry some more at the end.
As for my 5-year-old (who saw the movie with my husband and I), he says he liked it, but he "likes the other numbers better" (meaning the first two films). This may only be because of the 3D element involved in this one, though, since my son says he didn't like things "going in his eyes." I could have done without the 3D myself, as I didn't find it necessary to the story or even particularly amazing in design. Mostly it gave me a headache.
But the movie itself was touching and fun, which is what I've come to expect from Pixar. Like Peter Pan in Never Never Land, the animation studio roots itself in a refusal to grow up (in heart, though its technique only gets better with time), and in turn the audience keeps coming back if only to feel young again themselves.
6.23.2010
Blogcritics Book Review: The Lady in the Tower
I used to write for the Blogcritics.org site, and I've decided to take it up once again. So here is a link to my most recent article, a review of The Lady in the Tower by Alison Weir.
6.22.2010
Peanuts on Planes
Admittedly, this is not a media review, but whatever. I just need to comment on this movement to have peanuts banned from airline flights. Apparently there are a number of people who don't fly because they or their children have acute peanut/tree nut allergies? And they're terrified that being on a plane with people eating peanuts will cause a major health crisis or emergency?
A few things come to mind here, so let's just lay them out:
Now let me be clear. I don't even like nuts much, and I wouldn't be sorry to have them replaced with pretzels or something. But I find this pushiness and overwrought concern annoying, and it makes me disinclined to want to accommodate these people. Show me a list of people who have suffered and/or died from being on an airline flight in which peanuts were present. Because I'm pretty sure there have been people with allergies on those flights. You're not special because you have an allergy. Don't try to give me the one-up line of, "But I'm SO MUCH MORE ALLERGIC than anyone in the history of the world!" Because that's how you sound when you whine about it. And nobody cares but you.
It's the burden of people with allergies like these to take care of themselves. To read labels and avoid nuts. The extent to which you opt to avoid them--including the decision not to fly for fear of peanut dust--is your concern. Not the government's and not population at large's.
A few things come to mind here, so let's just lay them out:
- (A) If you have a severe allergy, don't you have something (an EpiPen or some such) in case something does set you off?
- (B) If you have this allergy, do you avoid any and all places there might be nuts? The grocery store, all restaurants, etc.?
- (C) Only about 1% of the population has this allergy, yet they are collectively asking for preferred treatment--because they classify it as a "disability" and therefore serving nuts in their vicinity counts as some kind of "discrimination." This seems high-handed and rings false, since they surely frequent any number of places where nuts may be or may have been present.
- (D) Even if they succeeded in having nuts banned from planes, how would they keep passengers from carrying on their own trail mix snacks and such?
Now let me be clear. I don't even like nuts much, and I wouldn't be sorry to have them replaced with pretzels or something. But I find this pushiness and overwrought concern annoying, and it makes me disinclined to want to accommodate these people. Show me a list of people who have suffered and/or died from being on an airline flight in which peanuts were present. Because I'm pretty sure there have been people with allergies on those flights. You're not special because you have an allergy. Don't try to give me the one-up line of, "But I'm SO MUCH MORE ALLERGIC than anyone in the history of the world!" Because that's how you sound when you whine about it. And nobody cares but you.
It's the burden of people with allergies like these to take care of themselves. To read labels and avoid nuts. The extent to which you opt to avoid them--including the decision not to fly for fear of peanut dust--is your concern. Not the government's and not population at large's.
6.06.2010
Book Review: The Girl Who Chased the Moon
Sarah Addison Allen
Bantam, 2010
276 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I read Allen's Garden Spells some time back and really liked it. So then I tried her second novel The Sugar Queen and couldn't get into it at all. Never finished it. With such a 50-50 history, I wasn't sure what I'd think of The Girl Who Chased the Moon, but decided to give it a shot.
In a nutshell, the story is two-fold. The A plot line is about Emily, a teenager who comes to Mullaby, North Carolina, to live with the grandfather she's never met. Emily will learn about her deceased mother's childhood and will discover "strange and wondrous things." The B plot line is about Julia, who had been a contemporary of Emily's mother, and who had left Mullaby but was dragged back by her own father's passing. Julia has a two-year plan to take care of her father's restaurant until she can sell it for a small profit and leave town. But she starts to find herself ensnared by the past.
A quick read, and a good one. Allen is now at 66% in my book.
If you like the Southern hospitality genre (think: Miss Julia books by Ann B. Ross) or the semi-magical sorts of things Alice Hoffman is known to tackle, you'll probably like Allen's work. At least some of it.
Bantam, 2010
276 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I read Allen's Garden Spells some time back and really liked it. So then I tried her second novel The Sugar Queen and couldn't get into it at all. Never finished it. With such a 50-50 history, I wasn't sure what I'd think of The Girl Who Chased the Moon, but decided to give it a shot.
In a nutshell, the story is two-fold. The A plot line is about Emily, a teenager who comes to Mullaby, North Carolina, to live with the grandfather she's never met. Emily will learn about her deceased mother's childhood and will discover "strange and wondrous things." The B plot line is about Julia, who had been a contemporary of Emily's mother, and who had left Mullaby but was dragged back by her own father's passing. Julia has a two-year plan to take care of her father's restaurant until she can sell it for a small profit and leave town. But she starts to find herself ensnared by the past.
A quick read, and a good one. Allen is now at 66% in my book.
If you like the Southern hospitality genre (think: Miss Julia books by Ann B. Ross) or the semi-magical sorts of things Alice Hoffman is known to tackle, you'll probably like Allen's work. At least some of it.
5.24.2010
Television: Lost finale
So last night the television series Lost came to a much heralded conclusion. Don't read any more than this if you haven't watched it yet and don't want it ruined for you.
Locke and Ben find Desmond—who was rescued from the well by Bernard and Rose, who have kept Vincent as a pet, just in case you wondered what happened to all of them—and are taking him to the center of the island (where the light is) to destroy it. Desmond is, as Jack would later put it, a kind of weapon. Apparently his natural resistance to electromagnetism has something to do with it, but whatever. (I can't help but wonder what Widmore planned to do with Desmond?)
Jack, Hurley, Kate and Sawyer also catch up with Locke, Ben and Desmond and it ends up coming down to Jack and Locke and Desmond going to the light and sending Desmond down to—as best I can figure—pull a giant drain plug. Which causes the island to begin falling apart, but slowly enough that Jack and Locke have time to fight it out on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Jack wins that one, and he sends Kate and Sawyer off on Locke's (which was Desmond's) boat to the other island so they can catch the plane with Miles, Richard, and Lapidus—and have just enough time to convince Claire to come along too.
Since the island, meanwhile, is still disintegrating, Jack leads Hurley (who refused to leave) and Ben back to the place where the light had been. Jack intends to go down and fix things; basically, he's going to go put the plug back in the Drain of Doom. Hurley is left to become the next new Jacob, with Ben as his sidekick. While Jack is at it, he ties the wounded but not dead Desmond to the rope so Hurley and Ben can lift him to safety and (hopefully) get him home.
As an aside, I just want to say, I thought the light/drain mythology bit was dumb. I like fantasy and Indiana Jones as much as anyone, but that was . . . I don't even have the words. Navel of the World tourist postcards forthcoming, I suppose?
Back in the sideways world, Desmond is working double time to pull everyone together so that they can trigger their island memories of one another. I won't get into all the ways it happens, but I will say Claire's and Charlie's moment made me tear up. Jack is the one left out of all this, or maybe he's just the most resistant to it. A moment with Locke after having done spinal surgery, another with Kate when he arrives too late for the concert . . . She then leads him to the church where his father's body has been sent after Oceanic's temporary misplacement of it. But Jack will discover that the coffin is empty. He'll see his father again and realize he himself is dead. And he's come to the place where he's being reunited with his loved ones. Which isn't to say they're all dead (yet, in "our" time, if there is such a thing in the show). But apparently the lovely thing about this "Heaven" is that they're there regardless, just as you best remember them. Because love is eternal and knows no time.
For the most part, I liked the ending. I found it hopeful and uplifting. Warm, really. I enjoyed some of the imagery, like opening the show with the progress of Christian Shepherd's coffin: a symbol for laying the show itself to rest. And I totally called it that the final image would be Jack's eye closing. The writers of the show certainly show a liking for symmetry.
As for the island side of things, I can only say I hope that (a) Bernard, Rose and Vincent suffered no ill effects from the earthquakes as the island was breaking apart, and (b) Desmond was able to get home to Penny and Charlie. I was really glad that Claire and Kate both were able to go back to Aaron; a nice balance against the fact that Sun and Jin did not get to go home to their daughter.
I originally wanted to believe that the sideways timeline was an alternative option for those who didn't get happy endings on the island. I haven't quite decided if it was or wasn't. Whether it was Jack writing all of that in his head or something bigger. One theory suggests that the moment of Jack's death occurs during the flight, at the point where Rose tells him it's okay to let go after the turbulence. But that might also just coincide with the moment Jack gets back to the island via Ajira and does let go, as in ceasing to attempt to control things or be the leader. My media studies degree notwithstanding, I'd have to go and watch a lot of stuff over again before coming up with a solid answer for myself.
But like Jack, I don't necessarily feel the need to do that. I've let go of Lost, and am happy to just let the experience of it wash over me . . . Like a bright, warm light.
Locke and Ben find Desmond—who was rescued from the well by Bernard and Rose, who have kept Vincent as a pet, just in case you wondered what happened to all of them—and are taking him to the center of the island (where the light is) to destroy it. Desmond is, as Jack would later put it, a kind of weapon. Apparently his natural resistance to electromagnetism has something to do with it, but whatever. (I can't help but wonder what Widmore planned to do with Desmond?)
Jack, Hurley, Kate and Sawyer also catch up with Locke, Ben and Desmond and it ends up coming down to Jack and Locke and Desmond going to the light and sending Desmond down to—as best I can figure—pull a giant drain plug. Which causes the island to begin falling apart, but slowly enough that Jack and Locke have time to fight it out on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Jack wins that one, and he sends Kate and Sawyer off on Locke's (which was Desmond's) boat to the other island so they can catch the plane with Miles, Richard, and Lapidus—and have just enough time to convince Claire to come along too.
Since the island, meanwhile, is still disintegrating, Jack leads Hurley (who refused to leave) and Ben back to the place where the light had been. Jack intends to go down and fix things; basically, he's going to go put the plug back in the Drain of Doom. Hurley is left to become the next new Jacob, with Ben as his sidekick. While Jack is at it, he ties the wounded but not dead Desmond to the rope so Hurley and Ben can lift him to safety and (hopefully) get him home.
As an aside, I just want to say, I thought the light/drain mythology bit was dumb. I like fantasy and Indiana Jones as much as anyone, but that was . . . I don't even have the words. Navel of the World tourist postcards forthcoming, I suppose?
Back in the sideways world, Desmond is working double time to pull everyone together so that they can trigger their island memories of one another. I won't get into all the ways it happens, but I will say Claire's and Charlie's moment made me tear up. Jack is the one left out of all this, or maybe he's just the most resistant to it. A moment with Locke after having done spinal surgery, another with Kate when he arrives too late for the concert . . . She then leads him to the church where his father's body has been sent after Oceanic's temporary misplacement of it. But Jack will discover that the coffin is empty. He'll see his father again and realize he himself is dead. And he's come to the place where he's being reunited with his loved ones. Which isn't to say they're all dead (yet, in "our" time, if there is such a thing in the show). But apparently the lovely thing about this "Heaven" is that they're there regardless, just as you best remember them. Because love is eternal and knows no time.
For the most part, I liked the ending. I found it hopeful and uplifting. Warm, really. I enjoyed some of the imagery, like opening the show with the progress of Christian Shepherd's coffin: a symbol for laying the show itself to rest. And I totally called it that the final image would be Jack's eye closing. The writers of the show certainly show a liking for symmetry.
As for the island side of things, I can only say I hope that (a) Bernard, Rose and Vincent suffered no ill effects from the earthquakes as the island was breaking apart, and (b) Desmond was able to get home to Penny and Charlie. I was really glad that Claire and Kate both were able to go back to Aaron; a nice balance against the fact that Sun and Jin did not get to go home to their daughter.
I originally wanted to believe that the sideways timeline was an alternative option for those who didn't get happy endings on the island. I haven't quite decided if it was or wasn't. Whether it was Jack writing all of that in his head or something bigger. One theory suggests that the moment of Jack's death occurs during the flight, at the point where Rose tells him it's okay to let go after the turbulence. But that might also just coincide with the moment Jack gets back to the island via Ajira and does let go, as in ceasing to attempt to control things or be the leader. My media studies degree notwithstanding, I'd have to go and watch a lot of stuff over again before coming up with a solid answer for myself.
But like Jack, I don't necessarily feel the need to do that. I've let go of Lost, and am happy to just let the experience of it wash over me . . . Like a bright, warm light.
5.21.2010
Television: Bones
My favorite television show had its season finale last night, so it's time to take stock yet again.
Basically the episode set up the coming season as a time jump of one year. This is because [almost] everyone found something else to do for a year--like summer vacation only extended. Brennan agreed to head an anthropological site on the island of Maluku, and Daisy was going with her, leaving Sweets behind. (He had the option to go with her and decided against it--also deciding against "waiting" for her, so it'll be interesting to see what happens there). Booth agreed to go back into the Army for a year to teach the troops some sniper and tracking skills. Jack and Angela decided not to hang around and wait for all their friends, so they were skipping town to spend a year in Paris. Cam and Caroline were evidently left to hold down the fort.
At the end of the episode, as Brennan and Daisy said their good-byes to everyone at the airport before flying off for Maluku, Booth turned up in uniform and made a pact with Brennan to meet at the Reflecting Pool near the coffee cart in one year. This makes the opening for next season painfully predictable in that a year will have passed and Brennan and Booth will be awkward with one another, having changed and yet not changed . . . Like seeing an old college buddy or something. OR, alternatively, one of them won't show. At that will set off some other thing, what-have-you. I'm hoping the writers will surprise me and that neither of these things will actually happen. Though I'm not sure what else could happen.
Meanwhile, I still have questions about the beginning of this season and Booth's brain and such. Apparently all of that was dropped without notice at some point. I mean, if Booth had been having trouble remembering how to handle simple plumbing jobs, can he remember how to shoot and track well enough to teach Army recruits? As for being in love with Brennan, well, they dealt with that in the 100th episode, though the idea of it being a false feeling generated by his brain was never followed up on, either. This is me throwing my hands up and saying, "Are we just pretending none of that happened?" That's fine by me if we are, since I thought all that was a bit hokey anyway, but I'd like to know for sure one way or the other.
Certainly, I think the idea of a year away is a good one. A lot of shows are doing that kind of thing lately, so it may seem that Bones is jumping on a bandwagon here, but they needed to do something to keep things fresh. Or rather, to refresh things. So here's hoping for interesting developments in absentia. See you in the fall.
Basically the episode set up the coming season as a time jump of one year. This is because [almost] everyone found something else to do for a year--like summer vacation only extended. Brennan agreed to head an anthropological site on the island of Maluku, and Daisy was going with her, leaving Sweets behind. (He had the option to go with her and decided against it--also deciding against "waiting" for her, so it'll be interesting to see what happens there). Booth agreed to go back into the Army for a year to teach the troops some sniper and tracking skills. Jack and Angela decided not to hang around and wait for all their friends, so they were skipping town to spend a year in Paris. Cam and Caroline were evidently left to hold down the fort.
At the end of the episode, as Brennan and Daisy said their good-byes to everyone at the airport before flying off for Maluku, Booth turned up in uniform and made a pact with Brennan to meet at the Reflecting Pool near the coffee cart in one year. This makes the opening for next season painfully predictable in that a year will have passed and Brennan and Booth will be awkward with one another, having changed and yet not changed . . . Like seeing an old college buddy or something. OR, alternatively, one of them won't show. At that will set off some other thing, what-have-you. I'm hoping the writers will surprise me and that neither of these things will actually happen. Though I'm not sure what else could happen.
Meanwhile, I still have questions about the beginning of this season and Booth's brain and such. Apparently all of that was dropped without notice at some point. I mean, if Booth had been having trouble remembering how to handle simple plumbing jobs, can he remember how to shoot and track well enough to teach Army recruits? As for being in love with Brennan, well, they dealt with that in the 100th episode, though the idea of it being a false feeling generated by his brain was never followed up on, either. This is me throwing my hands up and saying, "Are we just pretending none of that happened?" That's fine by me if we are, since I thought all that was a bit hokey anyway, but I'd like to know for sure one way or the other.
Certainly, I think the idea of a year away is a good one. A lot of shows are doing that kind of thing lately, so it may seem that Bones is jumping on a bandwagon here, but they needed to do something to keep things fresh. Or rather, to refresh things. So here's hoping for interesting developments in absentia. See you in the fall.
Book Review: The Red Pyramid
Rick Riordan
Hyperion, 2010
528 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
So if you've read Riordan's Percy Jackson books about how Percy is really the son of Poseidon, making him a half-god with cool powers, then you can substitute a brother-sister team for Percy and Egyptian gods for the Greek ones, and you've pretty much got The Red Pyramid summed up.
Carter Kane is 14 and travels the world with his Egyptologist father. His sister Sadie is 12 and lives in London with their maternal grandparents. Carter and Sadie only see each other twice a year, so they aren't particularly close. Until . . .
Riordan's books are formulaic, but that's not to say they aren't good. Though geared towards ages, oh, let's say 9 to 12, adults can find them entertaining as well. They aren't nearly as deep and involving as the Harry Potter books, but they hold their own.
The Red Pyramid is the first in Riordan's new series The Kane Chronicles. As the portal, so to speak, it does a fine job of setting up the rules and introducing the major players. Having Carter and Sadie alternate as narrators is a nice way to fill in perspective, though the gimmick of the author's opening and closing notes about having "found a recording that he's transcribed" falls a bit flat.
If you (or your kids, students, what-have-you) liked the Percy Jackson books, you'll probably like this too. Though you run the risk of getting bored with or tired of it, since it is so very similar. But Riordan has had a winning formula in the past, and has clearly decided not to tamper with what works.
Hyperion, 2010
528 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
So if you've read Riordan's Percy Jackson books about how Percy is really the son of Poseidon, making him a half-god with cool powers, then you can substitute a brother-sister team for Percy and Egyptian gods for the Greek ones, and you've pretty much got The Red Pyramid summed up.
Carter Kane is 14 and travels the world with his Egyptologist father. His sister Sadie is 12 and lives in London with their maternal grandparents. Carter and Sadie only see each other twice a year, so they aren't particularly close. Until . . .
Riordan's books are formulaic, but that's not to say they aren't good. Though geared towards ages, oh, let's say 9 to 12, adults can find them entertaining as well. They aren't nearly as deep and involving as the Harry Potter books, but they hold their own.
The Red Pyramid is the first in Riordan's new series The Kane Chronicles. As the portal, so to speak, it does a fine job of setting up the rules and introducing the major players. Having Carter and Sadie alternate as narrators is a nice way to fill in perspective, though the gimmick of the author's opening and closing notes about having "found a recording that he's transcribed" falls a bit flat.
If you (or your kids, students, what-have-you) liked the Percy Jackson books, you'll probably like this too. Though you run the risk of getting bored with or tired of it, since it is so very similar. But Riordan has had a winning formula in the past, and has clearly decided not to tamper with what works.
5.11.2010
Television: Happy Town
Why aren't you people watching this show? If you liked Twin Peaks, or The X-Files, or American Gothic, you should be watching Happy Town.
While Lost and FlashForward are good, they tend to be intense. Happy Town has all the dark drama but tempers it with quirk.
If you've missed out on the first couple episodes, they're available online. But to summarize: small town haunted by the disappearances of several residents. The locals refer to the perpetrator as "The Magic Man." A murder--of someone many suspected to be The Magic Man--turns the town on its head, even as the arrival of a strange new resident coincides with a delirious turn by the town's sheriff.
Now the sheriff's son turned acting sheriff is trying to solve the murder (well, he did that in Episode 2, but--) even as other strange things begin to happen . . .
Happy Town is definitely taking a few pages from the Twin Peaks play book, and Sam Neill is especially fun as a cinephile with something to hide.
The show, meanwhile, is in imminent danger of cancellation, though ideally ABC will let it play out over the summer at the very least. A boost in viewers would be helpful!
While Lost and FlashForward are good, they tend to be intense. Happy Town has all the dark drama but tempers it with quirk.
If you've missed out on the first couple episodes, they're available online. But to summarize: small town haunted by the disappearances of several residents. The locals refer to the perpetrator as "The Magic Man." A murder--of someone many suspected to be The Magic Man--turns the town on its head, even as the arrival of a strange new resident coincides with a delirious turn by the town's sheriff.
Now the sheriff's son turned acting sheriff is trying to solve the murder (well, he did that in Episode 2, but--) even as other strange things begin to happen . . .
Happy Town is definitely taking a few pages from the Twin Peaks play book, and Sam Neill is especially fun as a cinephile with something to hide.
The show, meanwhile, is in imminent danger of cancellation, though ideally ABC will let it play out over the summer at the very least. A boost in viewers would be helpful!
Book Review: Shades of Grey
Jasper Fforde
Viking, 2009
400 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I love this book.
Like all Jasper Fforde's novels, it takes some toe-dipping to get into, but Fforde has earned the patience of his readers. His standard MO is to write completely unintelligible things for the first couple chapters until the reader starts to understand it and it begins to make some kind of strange sense. Think of it as cultural immersion, the same way a person might learn a new language by being surrounded by it. It always works out in the end, so long as you have the gumption to stick with it.
Fforde's track record with the Thursday Next series, and the Nursery Crime books, opens the door for him to write this completely unanchored novel, itself the first of a trilogy. Without giving too much away, I'll simply note that it takes place in a future where everything's gone a bit retrograde and status is determined by color—not of one's skin, but what color (and how much of it) one is able to see. Society labors under strict and strange rules handed down by a man named Munsell, and poor Eddie Russett strives to be good in a world populated by people who are bent on being bad.
The question becomes: is circumventing an oppressive government—breaking the rules—a bad thing? It depends on one's motives . . .
Fforde is as clever as ever here (though I have a couple questions for him, which I've posted on his Web site's forum—if you please, Mr. Fforde). He's created a world any parageographer could be proud of, and his characters are thorough, even if most seem beyond redemption. The reader feels Eddie's frustration, and in many cases finds him- or herself frustrated with Eddie in particular. But the main character's cluelessness is the perfect mode of travel for the reader, who is new to all that Eddie takes for granted and joins him on his learning curve.
Call it a tale of opening one's eyes after suffering blind faith in the system. A tale for the ages, and the kind of thing they'll be teaching in high school along side 1984 in another decade or so. Well worth a read, and certainly more satisfying if you can get a book club to take it on and discuss it afterward.
Viking, 2009
400 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I love this book.
Like all Jasper Fforde's novels, it takes some toe-dipping to get into, but Fforde has earned the patience of his readers. His standard MO is to write completely unintelligible things for the first couple chapters until the reader starts to understand it and it begins to make some kind of strange sense. Think of it as cultural immersion, the same way a person might learn a new language by being surrounded by it. It always works out in the end, so long as you have the gumption to stick with it.
Fforde's track record with the Thursday Next series, and the Nursery Crime books, opens the door for him to write this completely unanchored novel, itself the first of a trilogy. Without giving too much away, I'll simply note that it takes place in a future where everything's gone a bit retrograde and status is determined by color—not of one's skin, but what color (and how much of it) one is able to see. Society labors under strict and strange rules handed down by a man named Munsell, and poor Eddie Russett strives to be good in a world populated by people who are bent on being bad.
The question becomes: is circumventing an oppressive government—breaking the rules—a bad thing? It depends on one's motives . . .
Fforde is as clever as ever here (though I have a couple questions for him, which I've posted on his Web site's forum—if you please, Mr. Fforde). He's created a world any parageographer could be proud of, and his characters are thorough, even if most seem beyond redemption. The reader feels Eddie's frustration, and in many cases finds him- or herself frustrated with Eddie in particular. But the main character's cluelessness is the perfect mode of travel for the reader, who is new to all that Eddie takes for granted and joins him on his learning curve.
Call it a tale of opening one's eyes after suffering blind faith in the system. A tale for the ages, and the kind of thing they'll be teaching in high school along side 1984 in another decade or so. Well worth a read, and certainly more satisfying if you can get a book club to take it on and discuss it afterward.
4.21.2010
Book Review: Under the Cajun Moon
Mindy Starns Clark
Harvest House, 2009
332 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
I'm not Cajun. Not technically, anyway, because my family didn't come through Nova Scotia. Instead, in the mid-1700's our ancestors sailed directly from France. Which makes us French Creole, although nowadays people usually think more "mixed blood" when they hear "Creole." We're probably that, too, by now.
At any rate, I know from South Louisiana because I come from that particular pot of genetic gumbo. Which ingredient my family is or was doesn't much matter now, since it's the flavor that counts.
Clark's Under the Cajun Moon tries very hard--almost too hard--to give readers a taste of South Louisiana. It's liberally sprinkled with Cajun French (stuff I recognized from my own childhood) and vivid descriptions of the bayous and of New Orleans. In fact, the title and cover art are the reasons I picked this one from the library shelf, even without reading the description.
Well! That's the other thing. If I'd looked at the publisher, I'd have known, but this is one of those Christian books disguised as a mystery. Somehow I've yet to read one that, no matter how hard the author tries, doesn't make the reader feel like he or she is being beaten over the head with a sermon. (And if Christians are reading these things, aren't the authors and publishers just preaching to the choir?)
The publisher was, in fact, a big factor in my problems with this book, though not because of the religious angle. That doesn't actually bother me, except when the storytelling grinds to a halt so someone can whip out a Bible and pray. The book was simply badly edited and contained many typos. Also, the use of "Prytaria" instead of "Prytania"? Seriously? Someone couldn't look that up and make sure it was correct?
As for the story itself, for a mystery it wasn't much of one. Clark telegraphs her punches, and I--as an avid mystery reader--had the bad guy fingered almost as soon as he appeared on the scene.
I'm underwhelmed as a whole, but here's the thing: I wouldn't say no to trying one of Clark's other books.
And I'm wondering if I insert some sermonizing into one of my manuscripts, will Harvest House publish it?
Harvest House, 2009
332 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
I'm not Cajun. Not technically, anyway, because my family didn't come through Nova Scotia. Instead, in the mid-1700's our ancestors sailed directly from France. Which makes us French Creole, although nowadays people usually think more "mixed blood" when they hear "Creole." We're probably that, too, by now.
At any rate, I know from South Louisiana because I come from that particular pot of genetic gumbo. Which ingredient my family is or was doesn't much matter now, since it's the flavor that counts.
Clark's Under the Cajun Moon tries very hard--almost too hard--to give readers a taste of South Louisiana. It's liberally sprinkled with Cajun French (stuff I recognized from my own childhood) and vivid descriptions of the bayous and of New Orleans. In fact, the title and cover art are the reasons I picked this one from the library shelf, even without reading the description.
Well! That's the other thing. If I'd looked at the publisher, I'd have known, but this is one of those Christian books disguised as a mystery. Somehow I've yet to read one that, no matter how hard the author tries, doesn't make the reader feel like he or she is being beaten over the head with a sermon. (And if Christians are reading these things, aren't the authors and publishers just preaching to the choir?)
The publisher was, in fact, a big factor in my problems with this book, though not because of the religious angle. That doesn't actually bother me, except when the storytelling grinds to a halt so someone can whip out a Bible and pray. The book was simply badly edited and contained many typos. Also, the use of "Prytaria" instead of "Prytania"? Seriously? Someone couldn't look that up and make sure it was correct?
As for the story itself, for a mystery it wasn't much of one. Clark telegraphs her punches, and I--as an avid mystery reader--had the bad guy fingered almost as soon as he appeared on the scene.
I'm underwhelmed as a whole, but here's the thing: I wouldn't say no to trying one of Clark's other books.
And I'm wondering if I insert some sermonizing into one of my manuscripts, will Harvest House publish it?
4.01.2010
"That's My Program"
The title of this post is taken from one of the lines from last night's episode of Modern Family, which is one of the two sitcoms I watch. I wanted to give a sort of encapsulation of my current television preferences, if only to situate readers in a way that allows them to relate to me and the kind of person I am.
Here is my current television schedule:
MONDAY
House (FOX)
TUESDAY
Lost (ABC)
V (ABC)
WEDNESDAY
Modern Family (ABC)
THURSDAY
Bones (FOX)
Flash Forward(ABC)
30 Rock (NBC)
I don't watch anything on Friday, Saturday or Sunday.
On Mondays, we used to watch 24 but gave up early this season when we realized we just didn't care any more.
I only just started with V at the behest of my husband. He likes it a lot more than I do, I think. I don't mind it, but I find myself playing Bookworm on my iPhone while it's on. A show that doesn't require my full attention is only a time-kill in my way of thinking. That's how it started with 24, too--I ended up messing around on my laptop while it was on and then started wondering why I was even bothering. While my husband's devotion to V may hold, mine doesn't seem likely to.
Thursday is, as you can see, the "big TV day." We'll usually save either Bones or Flash Forward on the DVR for a Friday night viewing. We're too old and have too many children to stay up that late otherwise.
You'll notice a lack of reality television on my list. Once upon a time, we did watch Survivor and American Idol. But they got old fast. I just don't care to give those fame-seeking pissants [reality show contestants] the satisfaction of my time. I'd rather have professionals [script writers] do the job. If I want to watch an idiot attempt to do things he or she clearly has no idea how to do, I'll go stand on the street corner and watch the local drivers. (Especially the ones in Dodge Caravans and Grand Caravans. WTF is wrong with those people?)
I may also be biased in that I have a screenwriting degree and always wanted to be a television writer. Just throwing that out there.
People have said we should look into Justified. It seems promising, but then so did Burn Notice, which we liked but not enough to make it part of our "appointment programming"--and we found we didn't have the time to catch up later, either; it was filling the DVR. We also gave up on The Tudors at some point. We do still pick up Entourage and Mad Men when they come back every summer.
That's the sum of it. We don't watch nearly as much television as we used to, and that's probably a good thing. After all, how much Blind Date or Bridezillas can anyone really ingest? I'm certainly not sorry to have cut the fat from my TV dinners!
Here is my current television schedule:
MONDAY
House (FOX)
TUESDAY
Lost (ABC)
V (ABC)
WEDNESDAY
Modern Family (ABC)
THURSDAY
Bones (FOX)
Flash Forward(ABC)
30 Rock (NBC)
I don't watch anything on Friday, Saturday or Sunday.
On Mondays, we used to watch 24 but gave up early this season when we realized we just didn't care any more.
I only just started with V at the behest of my husband. He likes it a lot more than I do, I think. I don't mind it, but I find myself playing Bookworm on my iPhone while it's on. A show that doesn't require my full attention is only a time-kill in my way of thinking. That's how it started with 24, too--I ended up messing around on my laptop while it was on and then started wondering why I was even bothering. While my husband's devotion to V may hold, mine doesn't seem likely to.
Thursday is, as you can see, the "big TV day." We'll usually save either Bones or Flash Forward on the DVR for a Friday night viewing. We're too old and have too many children to stay up that late otherwise.
You'll notice a lack of reality television on my list. Once upon a time, we did watch Survivor and American Idol. But they got old fast. I just don't care to give those fame-seeking pissants [reality show contestants] the satisfaction of my time. I'd rather have professionals [script writers] do the job. If I want to watch an idiot attempt to do things he or she clearly has no idea how to do, I'll go stand on the street corner and watch the local drivers. (Especially the ones in Dodge Caravans and Grand Caravans. WTF is wrong with those people?)
I may also be biased in that I have a screenwriting degree and always wanted to be a television writer. Just throwing that out there.
People have said we should look into Justified. It seems promising, but then so did Burn Notice, which we liked but not enough to make it part of our "appointment programming"--and we found we didn't have the time to catch up later, either; it was filling the DVR. We also gave up on The Tudors at some point. We do still pick up Entourage and Mad Men when they come back every summer.
That's the sum of it. We don't watch nearly as much television as we used to, and that's probably a good thing. After all, how much Blind Date or Bridezillas can anyone really ingest? I'm certainly not sorry to have cut the fat from my TV dinners!
3.12.2010
Book Review: Angel Time: The Songs of the Seraphim
Anne Rice
Knopf, 2009
288 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I've loved Anne Rice's work for a long time, ever since I checked Interview with the Vampire out from my high school library. And not just her vampire books, though there are more of them than others: I enjoyed The Witching Hour and Servant of the Bones and Feast of All Saints, too.
I did try to read Rice's Christ the Lord books, but I couldn't get into them. It's not a religious thing; I grew up religious enough and have no particular disdain for religion or spirituality or any of that sort of thing. A lot of people do, and then a lot of people don't think about it one way or another, but I do. Which isn't the point, of course. The point is: I have no bias for OR against such stories and works.
Still and all, I couldn't immerse myself in Rice's Christ the Lord books. But angels! I love angels, too, and was hoping for something really great in the kick-off novel of Rice's planned new series.
Alas, I fear my expectations were set too high.
Angel Time isn't terrible. It just isn't as good as some of Rice's other work. Something about it suggests she might have been in a hurry while writing it. And it's more like listening to Rice tell a story than having her characters do so.
What I mean is, all the characters in the book sound the same to me. I find little distinction in their voices. It seems to me that a hardened assassin should sound somewhat different from an angel, and that they should both sound different still from a Medieval Jewish woman. And yet . . . here, not so much.
The story itself is good enough. Pretty simple and straight-forward, which may be why the book is not especially long. But I still had some trouble digging in, as I found the characters more likely to tell me what to think and believe than show me through their actions or dialogue. For some characters, such bravado works (hello there, Lestat); for some situations it works (interview any vampires lately?). But here again . . . not so much.
Maybe Angel Time is just a weak start to something bigger and stronger? Maybe the main character--assassin Toby O'Dare--will develop into someone more interesting than the seemingly colorless person he starts out as. (On the flip side, assassins do need to blend as opposed to standing out . . . but Toby's lack of personality goes a bit too far in that the reader has a tough time caring much about him.) I'm hoping for a better outing next time.
Knopf, 2009
288 pages
hard cover
_____________________________________________________
I've loved Anne Rice's work for a long time, ever since I checked Interview with the Vampire out from my high school library. And not just her vampire books, though there are more of them than others: I enjoyed The Witching Hour and Servant of the Bones and Feast of All Saints, too.
I did try to read Rice's Christ the Lord books, but I couldn't get into them. It's not a religious thing; I grew up religious enough and have no particular disdain for religion or spirituality or any of that sort of thing. A lot of people do, and then a lot of people don't think about it one way or another, but I do. Which isn't the point, of course. The point is: I have no bias for OR against such stories and works.
Still and all, I couldn't immerse myself in Rice's Christ the Lord books. But angels! I love angels, too, and was hoping for something really great in the kick-off novel of Rice's planned new series.
Alas, I fear my expectations were set too high.
Angel Time isn't terrible. It just isn't as good as some of Rice's other work. Something about it suggests she might have been in a hurry while writing it. And it's more like listening to Rice tell a story than having her characters do so.
What I mean is, all the characters in the book sound the same to me. I find little distinction in their voices. It seems to me that a hardened assassin should sound somewhat different from an angel, and that they should both sound different still from a Medieval Jewish woman. And yet . . . here, not so much.
The story itself is good enough. Pretty simple and straight-forward, which may be why the book is not especially long. But I still had some trouble digging in, as I found the characters more likely to tell me what to think and believe than show me through their actions or dialogue. For some characters, such bravado works (hello there, Lestat); for some situations it works (interview any vampires lately?). But here again . . . not so much.
Maybe Angel Time is just a weak start to something bigger and stronger? Maybe the main character--assassin Toby O'Dare--will develop into someone more interesting than the seemingly colorless person he starts out as. (On the flip side, assassins do need to blend as opposed to standing out . . . but Toby's lack of personality goes a bit too far in that the reader has a tough time caring much about him.) I'm hoping for a better outing next time.
3.06.2010
Movie Review: Inglourious Basterds
Starring: Brad Pitt, Melanie Laurent, Christoph Waltz
Directed By: Quentin Tarantino
Written By: Quentin Tarantino
Universal Pictures, 2009
R; 153 minutes
5 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
In film school, we were required to view Reservoir Dogs. I hadn't wanted to see it, but I ended up really liking it. Which surprised me, since I generally dislike anything with gratuitous bloodshed.
That said, there haven't been many other Tarantino films that I've seen and enjoyed. I disliked Jackie Brown and found Four Rooms uneven at best. I didn't even make it through Pulp Fiction or Kill Bill; they bored me too much. Sacrilege! But how can I apologize for personal preference?
I was beginning to think Reservoir Dogs had been a fluke. But I did want to see Inglourious Basterds. All the Academy Award hubbub, PLUS: Brad Pitt! Whom I've loved since Interview with the Vampire. And I'm pleased to say that this movie did not disappoint. The violence was not so over-the-top as to disgust me, and the grimness of Laurent's turn as a vengeful Jew was nicely balanced with Pitt and Waltz, who added an odd, offbeat humor to the whole affair.
In short, Pitt plays Lt. Aldo Raine, who helms a small band of American soldiers known as "The Basterds." They stalk Nazi-occupied France and ambush Nazi squadrons. Meanwhile, Laurent plays the sole surviving member of a Jewish family that was massacred at the hands of Waltz's SS officer Landa. She has changed her name and now runs a cinema, and when her venue is singled out for a Nazi film premiere, she decides to use her dubious windfall as the jumping-off point for some serious payback.
It all comes together in the end, and I won't give it away. But Pitt is fun to watch, especially with his thick accent. I only wish he'd had more screen time. Waltz is surely the shoo-in for his Oscar category; he plays Landa with the perfect mixture of light-minded delight and megalomania, wrapped in self-assured narcissism. The viewer simultaneously wants to (a) invite him to a dinner party, (b) lock him in a cage and force him to perform like a trained monkey, and (c) put a bullet through his head. That takes talent. I'd be glad to see this movie win the whole kit 'n' kaboodle, but I'll take a trophy for Waltz at the least.
Directed By: Quentin Tarantino
Written By: Quentin Tarantino
Universal Pictures, 2009
R; 153 minutes
5 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
In film school, we were required to view Reservoir Dogs. I hadn't wanted to see it, but I ended up really liking it. Which surprised me, since I generally dislike anything with gratuitous bloodshed.
That said, there haven't been many other Tarantino films that I've seen and enjoyed. I disliked Jackie Brown and found Four Rooms uneven at best. I didn't even make it through Pulp Fiction or Kill Bill; they bored me too much. Sacrilege! But how can I apologize for personal preference?
I was beginning to think Reservoir Dogs had been a fluke. But I did want to see Inglourious Basterds. All the Academy Award hubbub, PLUS: Brad Pitt! Whom I've loved since Interview with the Vampire. And I'm pleased to say that this movie did not disappoint. The violence was not so over-the-top as to disgust me, and the grimness of Laurent's turn as a vengeful Jew was nicely balanced with Pitt and Waltz, who added an odd, offbeat humor to the whole affair.
In short, Pitt plays Lt. Aldo Raine, who helms a small band of American soldiers known as "The Basterds." They stalk Nazi-occupied France and ambush Nazi squadrons. Meanwhile, Laurent plays the sole surviving member of a Jewish family that was massacred at the hands of Waltz's SS officer Landa. She has changed her name and now runs a cinema, and when her venue is singled out for a Nazi film premiere, she decides to use her dubious windfall as the jumping-off point for some serious payback.
It all comes together in the end, and I won't give it away. But Pitt is fun to watch, especially with his thick accent. I only wish he'd had more screen time. Waltz is surely the shoo-in for his Oscar category; he plays Landa with the perfect mixture of light-minded delight and megalomania, wrapped in self-assured narcissism. The viewer simultaneously wants to (a) invite him to a dinner party, (b) lock him in a cage and force him to perform like a trained monkey, and (c) put a bullet through his head. That takes talent. I'd be glad to see this movie win the whole kit 'n' kaboodle, but I'll take a trophy for Waltz at the least.
3.05.2010
Book Review: New Moon
Stephenie Meyer
Little Brown, 2008
564 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
Well, one thing makes New Moon markedly better than Twilight, and that's the absence of Edward throughout the entire second act of the story.
Otherwise, it's all still pretty bad.
New Moon reminds me of fan fiction, only the characters are original to the author. But the main character--Bella Swan, who narrates--comes off as some kind of Mary Sue for the author (and perhaps, by extension, for the tweenie readers). At any rate, the "production value" of the writing (characters, plot) is low. Which is what I tend to find in the fan fiction community as well, so maybe that's why New Moon reminds me of fanfic.
Loosely, the plot this go-round is: What does Juliet do while Romeo is away? Apparently she becomes even more obnoxious than before, if that's even possible. Or maybe she's just as obnoxious but in a completely different way. Bella (our Juliet) spends most of her time going on and on about the "hole in her chest" that Edward's leaving has left her with. She spends a lot of time clutching her chest and gasping for breath, thereby showing us that Edward's leaving has been physically painful for her. She starts doing daredevil stunts because in the midst of danger she's able to remember Edward's voice--basically he scolds her for being stupid and reckless. And she starts hanging out with a werewolf.
It would be one thing if Edward's leaving had been a true breakup. But of course, Romeo and Juliet must have TRUE love, and so we're not allowed to question their devotion. Oh, Bella does question it, but Bella is ridiculously insecure in that way of adolescent girls--especially those who have guys all wanting to hang out with them and date them. But Bella and Edward are required to have a pristine relationship, and so even when they're apart it's simply a matter of each of them suffering terribly without the other.
So what we end up with is a hyperbolic example of love and devotion, in which each party is SO devoted to the other that it passes realistic and reasonable and goes on to be stunningly stupid. And once again the same conversations occur over and over:
Bella: I will love you forever! I can't live without you!
Saber-Toothed Tiger: I will love you forever! And I can't live without you, either!
Bella: Then turn me into a saber-toothed tiger like you, and we'll be together forever!
STT: No. Instead I'll wait for you to get old and die, and then I'll kill myself and we'll be together forever in the afterlife!
Bella: This is because you don't really love me and don't want to be stuck with me for eternity, isn't it?
STT: Of course not! I will love you forever and can't live without you!
Bella: Then turn me into a saber-toothed tiger.
And round and round we go.
The truth is, the "real" relationship here is between Bella and her best friend/werewolf Jacob. They have actual conversations and enjoy doing things together. Bella can pour her heart out to Jacob. This is more than we've seen in her interactions with Edward, and this relationship seems much more grounded. It has more chemistry. And maybe that's simply because we get a better look at it than we do the one with Edward, which we're evidently supposed to take at the author's word. What I mean is, we see Jacob and Bella associate in more organic ways (although we're still hounded by Bella's selfish and inane internal commentary as well). Meanwhile, in dealing with the chief relationship in the series Meyer presents us with only: Bella loves Edward; Edward loves Bella; they are meant to be. Really? Then show me. Don't assume I'm going to take it at face value. Because as it stands, it lacks the chemistry you're trying to force me to believe exists.
The one other really egregious problem with the book is the way characters are forced to explain things--either why something is the way it is, or the plot in general. Again, this is a flaw one finds in bad science fiction or fan fiction. It's clumsy. It's the author's way of answering potential questions the reader may have, as if to say, "I know you're wondering why or how, so my character will ask another character and you'll get this answer." There are ways to do this that work. Meyer's way of doing it . . . doesn't. It only underscores (a) how stupid her main character really is, and (b) that Meyer herself didn't appear to think through her own plot or faux world systems.
The sum total, then, of New Moon is that it's better than Twilight. That's about all I can say for it. Will the trend continue with Eclipse? We'll see.
Little Brown, 2008
564 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
Well, one thing makes New Moon markedly better than Twilight, and that's the absence of Edward throughout the entire second act of the story.
Otherwise, it's all still pretty bad.
New Moon reminds me of fan fiction, only the characters are original to the author. But the main character--Bella Swan, who narrates--comes off as some kind of Mary Sue for the author (and perhaps, by extension, for the tweenie readers). At any rate, the "production value" of the writing (characters, plot) is low. Which is what I tend to find in the fan fiction community as well, so maybe that's why New Moon reminds me of fanfic.
Loosely, the plot this go-round is: What does Juliet do while Romeo is away? Apparently she becomes even more obnoxious than before, if that's even possible. Or maybe she's just as obnoxious but in a completely different way. Bella (our Juliet) spends most of her time going on and on about the "hole in her chest" that Edward's leaving has left her with. She spends a lot of time clutching her chest and gasping for breath, thereby showing us that Edward's leaving has been physically painful for her. She starts doing daredevil stunts because in the midst of danger she's able to remember Edward's voice--basically he scolds her for being stupid and reckless. And she starts hanging out with a werewolf.
It would be one thing if Edward's leaving had been a true breakup. But of course, Romeo and Juliet must have TRUE love, and so we're not allowed to question their devotion. Oh, Bella does question it, but Bella is ridiculously insecure in that way of adolescent girls--especially those who have guys all wanting to hang out with them and date them. But Bella and Edward are required to have a pristine relationship, and so even when they're apart it's simply a matter of each of them suffering terribly without the other.
So what we end up with is a hyperbolic example of love and devotion, in which each party is SO devoted to the other that it passes realistic and reasonable and goes on to be stunningly stupid. And once again the same conversations occur over and over:
Bella: I will love you forever! I can't live without you!
Saber-Toothed Tiger: I will love you forever! And I can't live without you, either!
Bella: Then turn me into a saber-toothed tiger like you, and we'll be together forever!
STT: No. Instead I'll wait for you to get old and die, and then I'll kill myself and we'll be together forever in the afterlife!
Bella: This is because you don't really love me and don't want to be stuck with me for eternity, isn't it?
STT: Of course not! I will love you forever and can't live without you!
Bella: Then turn me into a saber-toothed tiger.
And round and round we go.
The truth is, the "real" relationship here is between Bella and her best friend/werewolf Jacob. They have actual conversations and enjoy doing things together. Bella can pour her heart out to Jacob. This is more than we've seen in her interactions with Edward, and this relationship seems much more grounded. It has more chemistry. And maybe that's simply because we get a better look at it than we do the one with Edward, which we're evidently supposed to take at the author's word. What I mean is, we see Jacob and Bella associate in more organic ways (although we're still hounded by Bella's selfish and inane internal commentary as well). Meanwhile, in dealing with the chief relationship in the series Meyer presents us with only: Bella loves Edward; Edward loves Bella; they are meant to be. Really? Then show me. Don't assume I'm going to take it at face value. Because as it stands, it lacks the chemistry you're trying to force me to believe exists.
The one other really egregious problem with the book is the way characters are forced to explain things--either why something is the way it is, or the plot in general. Again, this is a flaw one finds in bad science fiction or fan fiction. It's clumsy. It's the author's way of answering potential questions the reader may have, as if to say, "I know you're wondering why or how, so my character will ask another character and you'll get this answer." There are ways to do this that work. Meyer's way of doing it . . . doesn't. It only underscores (a) how stupid her main character really is, and (b) that Meyer herself didn't appear to think through her own plot or faux world systems.
The sum total, then, of New Moon is that it's better than Twilight. That's about all I can say for it. Will the trend continue with Eclipse? We'll see.
2.16.2010
Food: Sifers Valomilk
For those who don't know, if you buy a package of Valomilk, you're buying a sort of Reese's cup-like item (two in a pack), wherein the chocolate cups are filled with marshmallow instead of peanut butter. However, a Valomilk is not at all like a marshmallow cup. Which sounds confusing, but I'll do my best to explain.
For one thing, Valomilk is not something you can pick up in the typical candy aisle at a grocery or convenience store. I buy it whenever I happen to find it, usually at well-stocked candy stores or, as recently, nostalgia-based "general" stores (i.e., the store attached to a Cracker Barrel restaurant).
The detailed history of the Valomilk cup is given on their Web site, but in short the product is the happy result of a production error. Which is why Valomilk cups aren't like typical marshmallow cups. Instead, it's more like having that yummy, runny marshmallow topping from the ice cream parlor inside a chocolate cup.
Now the chocolate part of a Valomilk is not terribly exciting. I love chocolate, and the Valomilk chocolate wouldn't do it for me as a solo bar or whatnot. But it's sufferable when filled with the yummy marshmallow because the chocolate-to-filling ratio is a good one.
Valomilk is messy, so I don't recommend eating it (a) around anything you don't want to soil (electronics, nice clothes), or (b) without a napkin or some such handy. And have a drink nearby, as it'll leave you thirsty.
For one thing, Valomilk is not something you can pick up in the typical candy aisle at a grocery or convenience store. I buy it whenever I happen to find it, usually at well-stocked candy stores or, as recently, nostalgia-based "general" stores (i.e., the store attached to a Cracker Barrel restaurant).
The detailed history of the Valomilk cup is given on their Web site, but in short the product is the happy result of a production error. Which is why Valomilk cups aren't like typical marshmallow cups. Instead, it's more like having that yummy, runny marshmallow topping from the ice cream parlor inside a chocolate cup.
Now the chocolate part of a Valomilk is not terribly exciting. I love chocolate, and the Valomilk chocolate wouldn't do it for me as a solo bar or whatnot. But it's sufferable when filled with the yummy marshmallow because the chocolate-to-filling ratio is a good one.
Valomilk is messy, so I don't recommend eating it (a) around anything you don't want to soil (electronics, nice clothes), or (b) without a napkin or some such handy. And have a drink nearby, as it'll leave you thirsty.
2.12.2010
Book Review: Twilight
Stephenie Meyer
Little Brown, 2006
544 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
My intent was to avoid this book--this series of books--for my entire life. But I teach middle schoolers at a summer camp, and when they asked for class suggestions, like a fool I said, "They're into vampires these days. Maybe a pop culture class on vampires?" Tag, you're it! Which of course meant that I have to read these things, maybe even watch the movies.
So now I've read the first one, Twilight, from which the series borrows its name. It mostly reads like a seventh-grader wrote it, which may be why so many seventh-graders like it. The narrator is a 17-year-old named Bella who moves to a place she hates to live with her father because (as best as I understand it, but there's a lot I don't understand about Bella) her mother is dating a baseball player? I'm not clear on how this necessitated a move from sunny Phoenix to rain-washed Forks, Washington, but whatever. The point is clearly to get Bella to a place where she can meet vampires, and since they don't live in Phoenix because they're too sparkly and shiny for that, Washington state it is.
Okay, now Bella is ostensibly "special" (not as in "special ed," though I'd argue that's a distinct possibility that has yet to be fully explored). It's unclear why she's special--aside from her utter clumsiness that goes far beyond the bounds of realistic, as well as a hardwired idiocy that puts her in really bad situations that most people with any kind of sense (common, intellectual, evolutionary survival instinct) would avoid. But for some reason, even though Bella is supremely antisocial, people like her. Bella doesn't like parties, doesn't like dancing, doesn't want to talk on the phone and gossip with other girls, doesn't have close friends, doesn't want to celebrate her birthday or get gifts (yeah, I just started the train wreck that isNew Moon ) . . . How does anyone relate to her? She's thoroughly unlikable. And no, it's not that I think she should party or be on the phone or whatever, I never did those things either, but Bella takes it to an unnatural degree. She's a one note tune, and that note is: Edward, Edward, Edward.
Who is Edward? He's the 17-year-old vampire hottie in Bella's class, of course. He affirms that Bella is special, so special in fact that she is allowed to get to know Edward and his vampire family more intimately than anyone else in their tiny town. (And she's also the only one who knows they're vampires, natch.) According to Edward, Bella "smells" different. And she's more observant than the other students at their school, given that she notices when Edward's eye color changes.
The gist of the entire book is something like:
Bella: I love you, Saber-Toothed Tiger!
STT: You shouldn't. It's not safe. I could turn and maul you any minute.
Bella: You'll never hurt me, STT!
STT: I'll protect you. But I'm not safe for you!
Bella: I want to be a Saber-Toothed Tiger like you!
STT: You're special and I love you, but you can never become like me.
And so on and so forth, over and over, ad nauseam.
As if to add some kind of intrigue, members of a local Native American tribe (who happen to be friends of Bella's dad) attempt to warn Bella away from Edward and his kin. Not that it makes an impact. Nothing seems to impact Bella, who is stubborn beyond belief--and I mean that literally; her character just doesn't ring true in any kind of way. She's so much a device and not a person, and having to live in her narration to get at the story is almost intolerable. I'm not sure if it's bad character development or just bad writing that's the culprit, though.
The lack of real conflict between Bella and Edward is also unpleasant. I'm hoping that in the remainder of the books their unflinching devotion is honestly tested, because it's gag-inducing the way they simply fell together and into each others' arms (a la Bella's Romeo and Juliet fixation) with nary a qualm between them, all their problems being external and situational. I want Bella to be jealous of Edward's past loves, I want break-ups and second-guessing. The steadfastness of their feelings for one another is so far very uninteresting, rather like being served baby food when one would rather have steak.
Will the other books prove better? Don't tell me! I'll get through them . . . somehow . . . and let you know.
Little Brown, 2006
544 pages
trade paperback
_____________________________________________________
My intent was to avoid this book--this series of books--for my entire life. But I teach middle schoolers at a summer camp, and when they asked for class suggestions, like a fool I said, "They're into vampires these days. Maybe a pop culture class on vampires?" Tag, you're it! Which of course meant that I have to read these things, maybe even watch the movies.
So now I've read the first one, Twilight, from which the series borrows its name. It mostly reads like a seventh-grader wrote it, which may be why so many seventh-graders like it. The narrator is a 17-year-old named Bella who moves to a place she hates to live with her father because (as best as I understand it, but there's a lot I don't understand about Bella) her mother is dating a baseball player? I'm not clear on how this necessitated a move from sunny Phoenix to rain-washed Forks, Washington, but whatever. The point is clearly to get Bella to a place where she can meet vampires, and since they don't live in Phoenix because they're too sparkly and shiny for that, Washington state it is.
Okay, now Bella is ostensibly "special" (not as in "special ed," though I'd argue that's a distinct possibility that has yet to be fully explored). It's unclear why she's special--aside from her utter clumsiness that goes far beyond the bounds of realistic, as well as a hardwired idiocy that puts her in really bad situations that most people with any kind of sense (common, intellectual, evolutionary survival instinct) would avoid. But for some reason, even though Bella is supremely antisocial, people like her. Bella doesn't like parties, doesn't like dancing, doesn't want to talk on the phone and gossip with other girls, doesn't have close friends, doesn't want to celebrate her birthday or get gifts (yeah, I just started the train wreck that is
Who is Edward? He's the 17-year-old vampire hottie in Bella's class, of course. He affirms that Bella is special, so special in fact that she is allowed to get to know Edward and his vampire family more intimately than anyone else in their tiny town. (And she's also the only one who knows they're vampires, natch.) According to Edward, Bella "smells" different. And she's more observant than the other students at their school, given that she notices when Edward's eye color changes.
The gist of the entire book is something like:
- Bella gets into trouble.
- Edward saves her.
- They talk/bicker.
- Edward goes away for a while and Bella is sad.
- Bella gets into trouble . . .
Bella: I love you, Saber-Toothed Tiger!
STT: You shouldn't. It's not safe. I could turn and maul you any minute.
Bella: You'll never hurt me, STT!
STT: I'll protect you. But I'm not safe for you!
Bella: I want to be a Saber-Toothed Tiger like you!
STT: You're special and I love you, but you can never become like me.
And so on and so forth, over and over, ad nauseam.
As if to add some kind of intrigue, members of a local Native American tribe (who happen to be friends of Bella's dad) attempt to warn Bella away from Edward and his kin. Not that it makes an impact. Nothing seems to impact Bella, who is stubborn beyond belief--and I mean that literally; her character just doesn't ring true in any kind of way. She's so much a device and not a person, and having to live in her narration to get at the story is almost intolerable. I'm not sure if it's bad character development or just bad writing that's the culprit, though.
The lack of real conflict between Bella and Edward is also unpleasant. I'm hoping that in the remainder of the books their unflinching devotion is honestly tested, because it's gag-inducing the way they simply fell together and into each others' arms (a la Bella's Romeo and Juliet fixation) with nary a qualm between them, all their problems being external and situational. I want Bella to be jealous of Edward's past loves, I want break-ups and second-guessing. The steadfastness of their feelings for one another is so far very uninteresting, rather like being served baby food when one would rather have steak.
Will the other books prove better? Don't tell me! I'll get through them . . . somehow . . . and let you know.
1.21.2010
Television: Bones
We all know I love Bones; I generally count it as my favorite television show. I like the characters--their interactions, their chemistry. The ensemble cast is fantastic.
This is not to say, however, that this show doesn't sometimes go off the rails. Why do the Christmas episodes always play out like bad fan fiction, for example? Daring the two leads to kiss? Finding reasons to strip Booth down and create tension? It's just dumb. I feel like I'm being pandered to in those situations. As in, We know you want them to kiss, but we can't mess up their relationship, so here's how we do it: we get the D.A. to dare them to kiss. See?! Um, thanks, but an overly contrived situation is not what I want at all.
This season--at least at the start of it--was about how Booth had sort of "fake" fallen in love with Brennan while in a coma. His brain had created some parallel life in which he and Brennan were married and were expecting a baby. They owned a night club together! All the best buds were there! Again, can anyone say "fan fiction fodder" three times fast?
And the origin of this fantastic voyage? Brennan's own Mary Sue story, a book which she wrote, read aloud to Booth while he was in his coma, and then deleted.
Of late they've seemed to drop this particular plot point. They've also dropped the whole Booth-can't-remember-basic-stuff subplot as well. For a while there, Booth couldn't remember what kinds of clothes he liked to wear, how to fix plumbing . . . Stuff he evidently knew before. He'd come out of the coma a changed man; Brennan found him distinctly different in a variety of ways. That served a purpose for a handful of episodes then abruptly disappeared, as best I can tell. I'm not sorry that it did, but I can only suppose it'll have to come back sooner or later. I'm just having a hard time visualizing the context, seeing as how they've ignored the situation for so long now.
I still love Bones, of course, and I'm not going to stop watching. Yet. We'll see where this season ends.
This is not to say, however, that this show doesn't sometimes go off the rails. Why do the Christmas episodes always play out like bad fan fiction, for example? Daring the two leads to kiss? Finding reasons to strip Booth down and create tension? It's just dumb. I feel like I'm being pandered to in those situations. As in, We know you want them to kiss, but we can't mess up their relationship, so here's how we do it: we get the D.A. to dare them to kiss. See?! Um, thanks, but an overly contrived situation is not what I want at all.
This season--at least at the start of it--was about how Booth had sort of "fake" fallen in love with Brennan while in a coma. His brain had created some parallel life in which he and Brennan were married and were expecting a baby. They owned a night club together! All the best buds were there! Again, can anyone say "fan fiction fodder" three times fast?
And the origin of this fantastic voyage? Brennan's own Mary Sue story, a book which she wrote, read aloud to Booth while he was in his coma, and then deleted.
Of late they've seemed to drop this particular plot point. They've also dropped the whole Booth-can't-remember-basic-stuff subplot as well. For a while there, Booth couldn't remember what kinds of clothes he liked to wear, how to fix plumbing . . . Stuff he evidently knew before. He'd come out of the coma a changed man; Brennan found him distinctly different in a variety of ways. That served a purpose for a handful of episodes then abruptly disappeared, as best I can tell. I'm not sorry that it did, but I can only suppose it'll have to come back sooner or later. I'm just having a hard time visualizing the context, seeing as how they've ignored the situation for so long now.
I still love Bones, of course, and I'm not going to stop watching. Yet. We'll see where this season ends.
1.17.2010
Movie Review: The Princess and the Frog
Voices By: Anika Noni Rose, Bruno Campos, Keith David, Jim Cummings, Jenifer Lewis
Directed By: Ron Clements & John Musker
Written By: Ron Clements, John Musker & Rob Edwards (screenplay)
Walt Disney Pictures, 2009
G; 97 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
Disney decided to take a step back with The Princess and the Frog, returning to the old-fashioned 2-D animation of past classics like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. But Disney also decided to take a step forward by creating the first African-American "princess."
I put princess in quotes there because Tiana isn't one. Nor does she particularly aspire to become one--unlike her friend Charlotte, the pampered Garden District-dwelling daughter of "Big Daddy" (John Goodman). Charlotte and Tiana are friends only because Tiana's mother was hired by Big Daddy to create a wardrobe of princess dresses for Charlotte when both Charlotte and Tiana were children. Charlotte's big plan, enabled by her father, is to marry visiting Prince Naveen. The union is supposedly suitable to both: Naveen is a spoiled and disowned prince with no money, and Charlotte has money but desires to be a real princess.
Meanwhile, Tiana is a hard-working girl holding down two waitressing jobs in the hopes of saving enough money to open her own restaurant some day. Friends invite her out for a night of dancing, but it's clear that Tiana is all work and no play, the concern being that she's frittering away her youth and happiness by being too focused on her goal. The returning theme is that love and family should mean more than anything.
The plot is somewhat thin. Naveen runs into Dr. Facilier, a "shadow man" (Voodoo practitioner, one supposes, though it's never said) and is turned into a frog. Like the old fairy tale, he needs to kiss a princess to be restored. Alas, he mistakes Tiana for such and she reluctantly agrees to kiss him--which turns her into a frog, too. Long story short, Naveen's laziness doesn't jive with Tiana's workaholic ways, but they're forced to work together to achieve the goal of getting back to being human.
The standout here is Jim Cummings' turn as the firefly Ray, a brave, loyal and likable sidekick.
The music is also very good, though I was sorry they cut short the Zydeco-inspired "Gonna Take You There."
The writers are also careful to balance Dr. Facilier's "dark" magics with Mama Odie's lighter ones.
It's a little bit fun to see Disney poke at the princess-loving girls by sidelining Charlotte--whose enthusiasm is a tad over-the-top. But young girls going to see this movie are probably not going to understand it. After all, in their eyes most of the movie is about frogs. Beautiful clothes and tiaras get only a passing nod. The departure can be applauded on a certain level, but my guess is this is also the reason The Princess and the Frog hasn't had better box office results.
Directed By: Ron Clements & John Musker
Written By: Ron Clements, John Musker & Rob Edwards (screenplay)
Walt Disney Pictures, 2009
G; 97 minutes
4 stars (out of 5)
_______________________________________________________
Disney decided to take a step back with The Princess and the Frog, returning to the old-fashioned 2-D animation of past classics like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. But Disney also decided to take a step forward by creating the first African-American "princess."
I put princess in quotes there because Tiana isn't one. Nor does she particularly aspire to become one--unlike her friend Charlotte, the pampered Garden District-dwelling daughter of "Big Daddy" (John Goodman). Charlotte and Tiana are friends only because Tiana's mother was hired by Big Daddy to create a wardrobe of princess dresses for Charlotte when both Charlotte and Tiana were children. Charlotte's big plan, enabled by her father, is to marry visiting Prince Naveen. The union is supposedly suitable to both: Naveen is a spoiled and disowned prince with no money, and Charlotte has money but desires to be a real princess.
Meanwhile, Tiana is a hard-working girl holding down two waitressing jobs in the hopes of saving enough money to open her own restaurant some day. Friends invite her out for a night of dancing, but it's clear that Tiana is all work and no play, the concern being that she's frittering away her youth and happiness by being too focused on her goal. The returning theme is that love and family should mean more than anything.
The plot is somewhat thin. Naveen runs into Dr. Facilier, a "shadow man" (Voodoo practitioner, one supposes, though it's never said) and is turned into a frog. Like the old fairy tale, he needs to kiss a princess to be restored. Alas, he mistakes Tiana for such and she reluctantly agrees to kiss him--which turns her into a frog, too. Long story short, Naveen's laziness doesn't jive with Tiana's workaholic ways, but they're forced to work together to achieve the goal of getting back to being human.
The standout here is Jim Cummings' turn as the firefly Ray, a brave, loyal and likable sidekick.
The music is also very good, though I was sorry they cut short the Zydeco-inspired "Gonna Take You There."
The writers are also careful to balance Dr. Facilier's "dark" magics with Mama Odie's lighter ones.
It's a little bit fun to see Disney poke at the princess-loving girls by sidelining Charlotte--whose enthusiasm is a tad over-the-top. But young girls going to see this movie are probably not going to understand it. After all, in their eyes most of the movie is about frogs. Beautiful clothes and tiaras get only a passing nod. The departure can be applauded on a certain level, but my guess is this is also the reason The Princess and the Frog hasn't had better box office results.
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