"You keep trying to take over the world."

The above sentence pops up in Austin Grossman’s “Soon I Will Be Invincible” more often than the book’s title phrase does. Odd for a book that spends half its time tailing the bad guy, but revealing.
Part of the book details the exploits of Dr. Impossible, malevolent scientist extraordinaire, as he escapes from a special prison for supervillains and resumes his quest for world domination. The other plot revolves around cyborg superhero Fatale as she tries to find a place among a top-ranking team of crimefighters and prove her worth.
On its simplest level, Grossman’s novel is quietly funny as we get a rather sympathetic look at the life of an evil villain. Following Impossible through his various tasks to get bits and pieces or arcania for his evil devices reminded me at times of the megalomaniac lab-mouse Brain, from Warner Brothers’ “Pinky and the Brain” (one of the best cartoons, ever), who, every night, went to great lengths to get what he needed to “Try to take over the world!!!” And while reading the litany of Impossible’s run-down of failed inventions and alliances were supposed to help him achieve world domination, it occurred to me that the best music for a soundtrack for this segment would be Sean Cullen’s viciously funny “Food of Choice” (where the comedian solicits favourite foods from the audience and describes in a supervillain persona how he will arrange to have the food of their choice end their lives). In fact, food is about the only thing Impossible didn’t use as a weapon.
As Dr. Impossible talks candidly about the hardships of being an enemy of society and reminisces about his past glories, his mantra of “You keep trying to take over the world” comes up several times, but not in the usual places where an arch villain would drop such a line.
For most comic, sci-fi, or James Bond ultra bad guys, it would be a totally different statement, something along the lines of “Now I’m going to take over the world!” (insert maniacal cackling), delivered at the threshold of victory or during the torment of a hero. For Dr. Doom, Lex Luthor, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, Ming the Merciless, Max Zorin, Dr. Evil, or Chairface Chippendale, this would be a triumphant fact (at least in their own minds) carved in thousand metre-high letters upon the walls of destiny.
But for Impossible, the resolute statement of his code doesn’t come up in the heat of battle. Rather, it’s associated more often with the good – er, bad Doctor’s repeated defeats, shamings and general setbacks. It’s a bolstering of self-confidence for a man who knows, and occasionally openly admits, he’s doomed to always lose. As he comes up with one wacky scheme after another and tilts Quixotically towards another near-win, it’s a reaffirmation of who he is at heart – someone who keeps trying, despite the odds and despite what experience has empirically shown. This is a heart-felt sentence that is confided as part of a journal or on-going documentary interview (either internal or actual), and thus personal and quiet, not something flung at an enemy as some sort of taunt or war cry.
Grossman borrows a trick from Milton’s “Paradise Lost” playbook by making the story’s villain one of his protagonists. The fact that Grossman takes it even further and makes Impossible a somewhat sympathetic character (he’s clearly a nut, a megalomaniac and a potential killer, but it’s hard not to pity the nerdy little guy who respects his elders, appreciates fine workmanship, studies hard and who used to get picked on by the cool kids) might also indicate some influence from William Thackeray’s portrayal of Becky Sharp in “Vanity Fair”.
But what makes the novel most interesting is how the story of Fatale parallels Impossible’s. She’s the new superhero on the block, trying to navigate the perilous waters of the relationships among The Champions, the elite team that fights the forces of evil. She has to put up with her colleagues suffering marital problems, mild learning disabilities and alcoholism, among other issues, as well as in-fighting that would put high school hallway antics to shame. All of this on top of the fact that being a cyborg makes Fatale incapable of having anything resembling a normal life (including intimacy). In a world where having super powers should make you the coolest of the cool, the pairing of Impossible and Fatale makes “Soon I Will Be Invincible” a story of outsiders.
Interesting too is that there is no “Revenge of the Nerds” in this story – Impossible doesn’t win (not much of a spoiler to reveal that – he’s a villain in a stereotypical superhero’s world) and let’s face it, doesn’t even really fit in with the other supervillains (the bar scene reminded me of some of the episodes of “The Tick” – another of the best cartoons ever), and Fatale doesn’t win a hunky dude’s heart and rise to fame and glory. There is no triumph for these two aside from survival and introspection: Impossible’s still alive and determined to keep trying; Fatale has proven her mettle (pun intended) in a tough situation and begins to come to terms with her own inner demons. In a totally unrealistic universe, it’s a realistic ending – as in our world, the little guys generally only get small victories, while the aces on top usually stay on top.
Because of this, it would be tempting to invoke the old cliché and say that Impossible and Fatale are opposite sides of the same coin. Certainly both are damaged individuals. Both are on the outside. But there’s a significant difference between the two that shows Fatale has actually come out on top: Impossible comes full circle – ending up incarcerated and plotting his next escape and means to achieving supremacy – exactly where he was in the opening pages of the novel; Fatale, on the other hand, has learned an important lesson from another alienated soul – Lily, who has been both a hero and a villain. Lily refuses to allow herself to be boxed into a specific definition or role and has little use for the squabblings of the in-crowd. In fact, by walking away from it all, she shows Fatale that the cyborg can take ultimate power by being the one to define herself and by following her own heart. There is some sense that Fatale realizes this, and thus has moved beyond Impossible, who is imprisoned not by chains or walls, but by his accepted role within the system. Impossible becomes more than a name for this villain, it represents his chances of escape from his circumstances.
As novels set in superhero universes go, “Soon I Will Be Invincible” makes the perfect sidekick for Minister Faust’s “From the Notebooks of Dr. Brain”. Grossman’s individual-focused story, with its exploration of alienation and personalities coping with their past and present circumstances, compliments Faust’s tale that tackles broader issues like the self-help industry and celebrity psychiatrists, the price of ego, and the cover-up of the truth and propagation of lies to advance personal, political and corporate agendas.
The irony about “Soon I Will Be Invincible” is that like a superhero, it tries to hide its secret identity. Given the setting, this is most definitely a science fiction story, but you won’t find it on the SF shelves in your local bookstore (at least not in this neck of the woods), no, it’s under cover in the regular/non-genre fiction section, like Clark Kent with his suit and glasses on, blending with the mundane citizens of Metropolis. That is, until there’s a crisis, until someone buys the book and opens it and realizes (whether they want to admit it or not), it’s not human, it’s superpowered alien – it’s really sci-fi! I wonder if the publishers (who no doubt insist it be placed with the “normal” fiction) get it?

Battlestar Merchandisica - the Techie Invasion

TV techies have invaded a local comic store, and they are here for merchandise – their own.
I was moseying through the Brentwood Town Centre in Burnaby today on my lunch break. It’s near my new workplace and it’s been a couple of years since I’d been in that particular mall. I was pleasantly surprised to find a comic and gaming store, Comic Land (part of a small local chain), nestled up on the second floor. It hadn’t been there the last time I was in, so I decided to check it out. Had a nice conversation with the manager and found out that location had opened only about a month ago.
But a month has been more than enough time to stage an invasion.
While poking through the various figurines, models and toys I asked the intrepid merchant if he had any of the Titanium line of Battlestar Galactica ships. I’ve been looking for the Galactica itself for months, but haven’t been able to find it (or any of the other ships released in the line, for that matter). Yeah, I know I could probably find a couple of vendors on e-bay within a few seconds and feed my fanboy fetish, but I’d rather buy from a store around here – support the local guy who’s busting his hump, ya know?
This is where it gets interesting… The manager confides that he hasn’t been able to keep them on the shelves. Not because of lineups of ardent fanboys peeling themselves away from their TV sets to venture out into the strangeness of sunlight on an odyssey of toy-buying (like yours truly). Oh no. The Battlestar toys are getting scooped-up by the crew who work on the set of the show just down the road at the Vancouver Film Studios. Seems they descend on the joint like locusts (and have even been known to phone in beforehand) on a very regular basis to buy up all the merchandise they can get their hands on.
I guess it’s good for this guy’s business, but what about the rest of us? First come, first serve I guess.
Makes me wonder why they’re doing it.
Is it because the crew themselves are huge fans of the show? And why not? Seeing it from the inside, they must know they’re part of a good thing and may have an affection for something they’re crafting that no mere viewer can match.
Is it because they want some memento of the show because it’s going to end soon and they’re too straight-laced or cautious to bother snatching a souvenir from the set?
Or, more cynically, is this an investment? Knowing how great Battlestar is, and knowing it’s coming to an end, and knowing how devoted fans can be, are they sucking up all the merchandise in an effort to corner the market? Are they taking possession of all the, well, possessions so that they can sit on the ships and figures and whatnot for a while, let the fan nostalgia – and the merchandise value build, then sell it all for a bundle and put their kids through college or pay for a trip to Cuba? Think of the value if they could get the merchandise signed by cast members. If that’s their game, I can’t really say as I blame them. I mean, there’s not a lot of difference between the collectibles market and antiques or the stock market. It’s just, I do kind of blame them ‘cause I’d like to buy one myself.
Or is there another reason that hasn’t occurred to me? (entirely likely)
Maybe one of these days I’ll get lucky and wander in sometime just after the new stock has arrived, and just before the crew who shoot the show that inspires it.

Fleeing from the studio techie purchasing tyranny, a Battlestar fanboy, bloginhood, continues on a lonely quest – a shining collectible, known as the Titanium series.

Aurora Nominations

The list of the finalists nominated for the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association’s Aurora Awards is out.
Unfortunately, I can’t say I’ve read any of the finalists for best long-form work in English (released in 2006) – yet. I am glad, however, that R. Scott Bakker’s steaming pile “The Thousandfold Thought” didn’t make it onto the roster.
The short stuff on the other hand… I’m really glad James Alan Gardner’s “All the Cool Monsters at Once” made the final ballot. And yeah, it was one of the ones I voted for. As for the others, I’ve read Karin Lowachee’s “This Ink Feels Like Sorrow” and Hayden Trenholm’s “Lumen Essence”, but ‘Ink doesn’t stick out in my mind at all and my impression of ‘Lumen was a resounding “meh”. Didn’t read Rob Sawyer or John Mierau’s yarns.
Looking forward to seeing who takes the win at Vcon 32/Canvention 27 here in town in October.

Late Review: "Stardust"

Warning: minor spoilers (spoilage factor: a banana with a couple of brown spots)

Okay, so it’s been longer since my last post than it takes for George R. R. Martin to write an installment in the “A Song of Ice and Fire” series, but a lot’s been going on. I’ve jumped ship to a new job and the past few weeks have been the usual period of adjustment - not the least of which is re-setting my internal clock to regular work week hours instead of the somewhat later day I used to keep at the old place. Not being able to stay up as late is probably the single biggest reason for my blogging tardiness. And then there’s the other usual stuff going on: domestic life with the wife, catching up with old friends, etc. At any rate, for what little it’s worth, I’m back.
So a few weeks ago we caught “Stardust”. What a great film! My wife and I were completely captivated throughout the entire show.
Based on a Neil Gaiman novel, the movie centres around our young hero Tristan (played by Charlie Cox), who crosses an ancient wall, leaving England behind and entering a magical realm on a quest to find a fallen star and bring it home to impress the girl he loves. He arrives at the impact crater to find the star is a beautiful young woman named Yvaine (Claire Danes) who has ideas of her own about where she’s going. But that doesn’t deter Tristan, who binds the star with a magical cord and starts for home. Along the way, they’re beset by witches in search of youth and beauty, conniving princes and air pirates. And, not surprisingly, Tristan eventually grows to realize his true love isn’t the girl he’d originally had his eyes on.
Perhaps the finest complement that can be paid to “Stardust” came from Michael Marano in his Sci Fi Weekly review: that this movie has the same wit, energy and charm as “The Princess Bride”. In fact, though Gaiman’s story is original, they’re alike enough in setting and feeling that you could believe that Westley and Buttercup might invite Tristan and his love over for a merry dinner party one evening.
One of the big checkmarks this film earns is director Matthew Vaughn’s ability to find big name stars who are also top-notch actors (because the two aren’t always the same) who can confine themselves to playing solid roles as supporting characters. Robert De Niro does a masterful job in playing a secondary cast member who doesn’t scene-steal when he’s not supposed to, but who shines when the time is right. His Captain Shakespeare, air pirate and lightening harvester, is a screamingly funny synthesis of “Space Battleship Arcadia’s” Captain Harlock and the Robin Williams and Nathan Lane characters from “The Birdcage”.
And Michelle Pfeiffer does an equally impressive job of playing the witch Lamia. It takes a lot of guts and a hell of a sense of humour for a beautiful but aging actress to play a powerful woman who tries to maintain her fair looks longer than she should and has to watch them disintegrate with alarming rapidity. In playing a sorceress this time around, Pfeiffer is nowhere near the cute, pregnant-at-the-drop-of-a-hat New Englander she did in “The Witches of Eastwick” – this time she’s got a mean streak big enough to let her teach former costar Jack Nicholson a thing or two about black magic. And you can tell she’s enjoying every minute of it.
The movie’s charms are present in so many other ways as well, from the Three Stooges-like ghostly brothers to the touching backstory of Tristan’s father.
And the special effects are used with perfect flourish: the sky ship, the castle and the magic are all impressive eye candy, but they never detract from the story or the characters. George Lucas needs to study this movie carefully, to learn that deftly-used special effects should leave an audience feeling that they’re merely another background part of the world being presented, not its focal point.
As “The Princess Bride” revitalized the fairy tale when it came out in the 80’s, “Stardust” has kindled the torch high again for another generation.

"Babylon 5 - The Lost Tales"

Warning: Spoilers
(spoilage factor: a couple of small spots of mold that have to be pared off a block of cheese before grating it on your pasta)

It took a few solid days of hunting around at several local outlets of big entertainment store chains to track down an exceedingly rare copy of the recently released “Babylon 5 – The Lost Tales” (only to stumble on about five million copies in Costco just the other day – D’oh!). But the search was worth it. (And no, I’m not saying that as someone who’s gone on record as being a B5 fanboy -which I have)
These latest installments (the presentation, “Voices in the Dark” is actually two separate shorts) in the B5 canon take place in 2271 – 10 years after the founding of the Interstellar Alliance, 9 years after the end of Season 5, and 10 years before John Sheridan’s death and the destruction of the station.
In fact, the film opens with the destruction of B5, and as the clock winds backward to place us at the time these stories are set, we’re treated to part of Citizen G’Kar’s farewell to Sheridan from his departure in Season 5, accompanied by a simple B5 melody from Christopher Franke. I can’t think of a better way to take us back to the B5 universe than to use this bit of dialogue where the soft, low tones of the late Andreas Katsulas remind us of the lasting effect of people and places upon one-another.
And with that, we’re into the first of the Lost Tales: “Over Here”.
Shortly before B5 is to host the 10th anniversary party for the founding of the Alliance, station commander Elizabeth Lockley (now having risen from Captain to Colonel) has to deal with a staff member who’s having some sinister issues – nothing she can’t solve by importing an old Catholic priest from Earth. But as the two confront their demonic adversary, they realize the stakes are higher than the salvation of one man’s soul.
All in all, “Over Here” was a good story. But it wasn’t a Babylon 5 story. Certainly the wrestling with philosophical and theological issues and the feelings of the individuals trying to navigate this territory is standard fare for B5. And the fact that Lockley understands her way out of the problem and avoids the two narrow choices that her adversary attempts to impose on her definitely keeps it in the pattern of a major B5 showdown. But the set-up, the drawing-out of the plot and the final resolution didn’t feel like one of Straczynski’s typical B5 installments. No. This felt more like a short story from one of the old authors from the Golden Age of SF – stylistically and structurally it had more in common with the feeling of the neat logic of an Asimov yarn.
And in a different facet, Tracy Scoggins’ delivery of Lockley’s checkmate speech channeled pure Captain James T. Kirk. That’s not to say she made the mistake of a Shatner-esque delivery, rather there was a word choice and intensity and self-satisfaction that ol’ Jim woulda used in putting some alien posing as a Greek god in his proper place of intergalactic irrelevance. More of a sneer than, say, Sheridan’s exasperated “Now get the hell outta here!” to the Shadows and Vorlons at the end of their war. Fitting for Trek, a bit out of place for B5.
“Over Here” and its presentation of the threat of demons and damnation would also seem to offer some continuity problems within the canon, given that the pre-history of the galaxy that came out in the Shadow War indicated that most of mankind’s conceptions of demons and angels were the result of deliberate tampering by the Vorlons who wanted to program humans to be their allies on an instinctual level. Where does that leave room for the demons dreaming of the stars in “Over Here”? In fact, wouldn’t Lockley put even less faith as it were in her opponent’s demonic claims, given that she’s probably read all the files about the Shadow War and the dealings with the various First Ones? Wouldn’t her own experiences with high technology and advanced alien races predispose her to deal with this problem from a secular approach as opposed to theological?
That being said, “Over Here” is still a fine piece of science fiction in the style of the old school, if not strictly speaking that of B5.
Meanwhile, the second half of the presentation, “Over There” has us riding alongside President John Sheridan, on his way to the party at B5, dogged by a pesky reporter, his own shadows of melancholy about his future, and the sudden reappearance of the Technomage Galen, who brings a dire warning. It seems a young Centauri prince who Sheridan will meet along the way to the celebration could be a major threat to Earth if his grand aspirations come to pass in the decades after Sheridan’s death. And Sheridan has a difficult choice in how to best ward-off the potential devastation.
Unlike the first offering, “Over There” is pure B5. The plot, the balance of logic and heart, its fit into the canon, the behaviour, recollections and knowledge of the characters - everything in this feature makes it immediately recognizable as an episode (albeit a short one) of Babylon 5. And a good episode at that!
There might be some fans who would be tempted to criticize “The Lost Tales” for being too small – for having shorter stories and for featuring only three major characters from Babylon 5 and Crusade. But I think the limited scope of these stories is actually their strength. What we get out of it by only following one or two of the major cast members at a time is an incredible focus on their personalities and their crisis – something that would run the risk of being watered-down or outright swamped if the stories needed another half-hour or hour each to bring in the other major characters and properly flush each of them out so that they wouldn’t be short-changed. No. In this instance of storytelling, simpler is definitely better.
Others might point out that the digital special effects are a bit spotty at times – the animation of the background in B5’s hanger seems a bit clunky and the timing of the rotation outside Lockley’s porthole seems off. But that’s really getting into serious nitpicking. Let’s focus instead on what has a bigger impact – let’s focus on how great all the exterior digital effects look. B5 itself is rendered in exquisite detail that we as viewers could only have dreamed of when the series originally ran on TV back in the late 90’s. Same for the Starfuries. For the most part, Straczynski’s special effects crew has given us a work of art to look at.
And the feature is packaged nicely with a bunch of worthwhile extras. Straczynski’s fireside chats range from mildly interesting to downright hysterical and he gives a nice tour of the behind-the-scenes development of the project. There are also some really touching moments in the memorials for Andreas Katsulas and Richard Biggs (Dr. Stephen Franklin). This extra is the part of the whole production where I wish there had been more cast members available to share their memories of these two fine actors.
I seem to recall once running across a fan site that said “Sooner or later, everyone comes to Babylon 5.” (I can’t recall if that was actually in the series itself – I’ll have to have another watch of the series sometime soon to check, not that I need an excuse or anything). In seeing what J. Michael Straczynski has put together for “Voices in the Dark”, I’m hoping that sooner or later more installments to “Babylon 5 – The Lost Tales” will be coming.

Another Overdue Review: "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix"

Warning: Spoilers
(spoilage factor: about the same as a head of lettuce that’s been left in the fridge a week too long)

No-one can deny this summer has seen an onslaught of Potter. “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix”, based on the fifth book in author J. K. Rowling’s series about the boy wizard of the title, was released not too long before the final novel “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” hit the shelves. Of course, being Potter fans in our household, it was a given that we’d brave the lineups to see the new movie in its first week. And it didn’t disappoint.
Overall, director David Yates has done a superb job in paring-down an immense novel to its essentials and fitting them into a two hour and 18 minute film – substantially shorter than its predecessors. As Harry and his sidekicks wrangle with new threats from the evil Lord Voldemort and his gang of Death Eaters, we see the rise of bureaucratic tyranny in the Hogwarts school, showing that there are many different kinds of evil that can eat away at a society and its individuals. The pacing is quick and the darkness of the film and its subject matter gives it much more of an adult feel than the others.
The movie wasn’t without its flaws though. One of the important aspects of the novels is Harry’s growth into adulthood beyond the ongoing conflict with the forces of darkness, and part of that growth is his awakening interest in girls. The series of movies only gives the lightest of nods to this reality up until “Order of the Phoenix”. Here we see Harry enter into a relationship with Cho Chang, a young witch he’s been blushing over for quite some time. Well, not really. We certainly see them have a good first kiss. But that’s pretty much it. The relationship is essentially dropped after that. We don’t even see their breakup. In fact, Cho’s longing and hurt look at Harry as he brushes past her later on are about the only indication we have that the encounter might have been more than just a snog-and-grope in a broom closet somewhere. If Yates was going to bother including the relationship, he should have tacked on an extra 5 minutes or so for a couple of scenes spaced throughout the movie to show its development and disintegration. That being said, one small detail that was very nicely done was Ginny Weasely’s wistful look backwards as she and the other kids leave the room to let Harry and Cho have some time alone. A nice, quick way to foreshadow their relationship to come – if, that is, the director of the next installment even allows them enough screen time for them to have a relationship!
And in talking with a few other people who’ve read the book and seen the movie, there’s a general consensus that the battle at the climax was adequate, but that it felt a lot smaller in scale than it should have been.
Hats off though to Imelda Staunton for playing the usurping bureaucrat Delores Umbridge with such cotton-candy viciousness. A perfect performance for a well-written character who we’ve probably all come across in one form or another at some point in our lives.
And, of course, Gary Oldman continues to do a great job playing Harry’s godfather Sirius Black. But then again, when does Gary Oldman ever do a bad job?
One final note on small details: Mad-Eye Moody’s broom being outfitted and sounding kinda like a Harley Davidson. A bad-ass broom for the Potter-verse’s version of Snake Plissken.
One thing to note if you’re planning on seeing this movie in Imax like we did: the 3D presentation advertised is only the 15 minutes or so of the final battle. Most of the movie is regular 2D, so don’t sit there with your 3D glasses on your nose the whole time wondering what’s wrong with the picture like some people did in the theatre we sat in. But whether you see it in 3D or 2D, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” is worth conjuring up the full price of admission.

An Overdue Review: "Transformers"

Warning: Spoilers
(spoilage factor: about the same as a raw chicken left on a sunny window-sill in August for a couple of days)

It’s been several weeks since the debut of this summer’s uber popcorn movie, “Transformers” and the pain in my neck from having to watch it from the third row of the theatre in the first week of the run has just about gone away. But it was worth it!
The movie is director Michael Bay’s live-action re-imagining of the classic 80’s cartoon about the ongoing battle between the heroic Autobots and the evil Decepticons.
In the original, an eons-long war between the two factions had drained their home planet of Cybertron of almost all of its “energon” resources – and thus the giant robots’ fuel or food if you will. In a desperate bid to find more energon to carry on the war, some of the Autobots flee in a starship but are hunted down by the Decepticons. In the ensuing battle, both vessels are damaged and the Transformers crash onto a primordial Earth. Millions of years later, an earthquake causes their machinery to reactivate, leading to the Transformers’ reawakening and the resumption of their war amidst modern-day humanity.
Bay’s version continues with the tradition of the Transformers letting their internal disputes spill over onto other worlds. But quite a few of the details change. We’re told Cybertron’s environment has been damaged by the civil war and we get the impression that consequently that world is pretty much uninhabitable. Thus the hunt for something called “the cube” – an ancient device of unknown origin that creates life. Kind of. Both robotic factions seek to possess the cube to tip the balance of the war, and in their quest, they track it to an unsuspecting Earth. The Decepticons waste no time in wreaking havoc to find they information they need to uncover the artifact. The Autobots are a bit more subtle, choosing to remain undercover during their own investigations, only coming out in full force in the open for the battle of the climax. Caught in the middle of it all is teenager Sam Witwicky, who just wants to get a nice first car and the affections of the girl of his dreams, but who unknowingly possesses the key to finding the ancient bone – er, cube of contention.
In typical Bay fashion, Transformers is a nearly non-stop orgy of action punctuated by snappy dialogue and effective one-liner humour and sexy leading ladies for the young hero (and the audience) to ogle. The special effects for the metal titans are top-notch. The actors do a capable job. And, best of all, Peter Cullen was brought back to reprise his role as the voice of Autobot leader Optimus Prime. In short, this flick is a modern teenage boy’s ultimate fantasy, or an 80’s action cartoon fanboy’s wet dream.
And the new version deserves bonus points for some of its details: I won’t spoil exactly what it says, but pay close attention to the decal on the side of the Decepticon police cruiser. Bay’s SFX guys have also finally resolved the major inconsistencies the old series had with conservation of mass: guns and cassette decks becoming giant robots. In this version, a portable stereo, no matter how evil it may be and no matter how great its ambitions, transforms to a height of about 4 feet rather than 50, and yet remains a respectable badass and capable spy in his own right. Also, extra geek points for the method the robots use to find new alternate forms: in the old series, the AI satellite Teletraan 1 scanned human technology and adapted the robots during repair to fit the forms they’d be mingling with on Earth and that would best suit their personalities and former functions; in the new movie, the robots seem to impress upon nearby vehicles that they encounter first and suit their needs. In this way, they’re rather like the later-generation Transformers of the “Beasties” series, which imprint on the first animal detected when their pods crash land. I don’t know if the Beasties parallel was intentional or accidental, but kudos anyway.
But there were also a lot of problems with the flick. One look at the robots in their natural anthropomorphic form, as they emerge from their crash craters, and (as others have noted) you have to doubt they’ve got the proper design to actually transform into anything, let alone a car, tank or jet fighter. Then there are the extensive changes that have been made to the characters of many of the Transformers themselves: Prime is still a semi (though a different kind of rig than his original cartoon form) and Starscream remains a fighter plane, but most of the others bear little resembling to their old namesakes. Bumblebee is now a Mustang, rather than a Volkswagon Beetle. Ironhide is a Hummer rather than an old van. Jazz remains Prime’s lieutenant, but he’s only Jazz in name. Now, instead of having a voice that would sound like it might belong to an old jazzman, like Scatman Crothers in the original, he’s got Darius McCrary voicing him as a rapper/hip-hop artist. The writers should have just renamed him MC or something like that and to make a better impression that he’d been re-imagined, rather than keeping an old monicker with a new, inappropriate voice. Another nitpick note was the unanswered question of why extreme cold seems to stop the Transformers in their tracks. Megatron is frozen in the arctic and later imprisoned in what’s basically a big-ass freezer. The nasty government types (led by John Turturro – in his undies, no less!) take down Bumblebee with ropes and blasts of cold. But, wouldn’t the Transformers have to survive the deep cold of space to travel from planet to planet in their search – especially Megatron, who’s new form is some kind of space fighter! And what’s with that crazy cosmic cube? Why does bestow life upon machines, but kill any robot that stuffs the thing in its chest? Too much raw power?!? Sounds like someone’s too drunk on energon! Too little thought to plot, more likely! And when it does animate various pieces of machinery around it, why, when they suddenly transform into robots, are they evil? I mean, I can kind of understand why the pop machine is diabolical – those things do steal coins from people all the time, so, it makes sense that they’d be inclined to up the stakes a little bit with some rocket fire, etc, but the other machines? Why would they go on a rampage? Wouldn’t they be just as likely to belt out “Happy Birthday!” like a newly-awakened Frosty the Snowman? And lastly, there’s something really wrong with the last scene of the movie: the young hero who’s finally go the girl of his dreams gets to snog on a hilltop overlooking the town with a beautiful sunset as the backdrop… but they’re on top of his car – his intelligent car, and a bunch of his car’s buddies. It’s like they’re necking in front of a crowd. Haven’t these big ‘bots ever heard of a human concept called privacy? I mean, hey, maybe young Sam and his girl are exhibitionists, and if that’s their thing, then fine, but personally I’d find it a bit creepy. How many of us have a tough time getting intimate with out significant others in front of the stares of the bewildered family pet, let alone a gaggle of extraterrestrial automata?
But in the end, the many faults of the movie just can’t outweigh its simple, mindless fun. Not only is “Transformers” worth the full price of admission, it was worth the pain in the neck I picked up watching it. Now, how can I get my printer or dishwasher or something to transform into a masseuse to rub away the sore spots?

Footnote:
Perhaps the best part of the Transformers getting such a blockbuster movie made is that it’s given me many, many opportunities to get a rise out of unsuspecting and, these days, largely ignorant fanboys with Gobot jokes, a-la Randall in Kevin Smith’s “Clerks II”.
Most of the current movie’s fans weren’t old enough to have seen the Transformers or the Gobots in their original TV runs, and so just stare blankly when the latter are referenced, requiring the “Clerks II” explanation that Gobots are “the K-mart of Transformers”.
But it’s inflicting Gobot references on old-school fanboys that’s most entertaining, just to see them froth in fury. Best example so far: I asked my brother what watching the Gobots was like at the drive-in theatre out in Langley. His response: “Gobots. Sheesh. It's not a transformation when all you do is stand up. Ironhide needs to go bust some Gobo-chops!”
That’s the kind of ferocity normally reserved for the Star Trek vs. Star Wars crowd. Pointless, but occasionally entertaining.

"Prisoners of Gravity" Released - Kind of

In 1989, a man converted his car into a rocket, shot himself into space, crashed into a satellite and began broadcasting his own SF show. No, that wasn’t an early draft for “Mystery Science Theatre 3,000”. It was the backstory to Canada’s legendary “Prisoners of Gravity”, a half-hour, weekly program focusing on science fiction, fantasy and comics. The show ran for 5 seasons and 139 episodes. Host Rick Green, a.k.a. “Commander Rick” interviewed a galaxy of guests such as authors Douglas Adams, Robert J. Sawyer and Ray Bradbury about issues including fandom, the impact of technology, ecology, sexism and feminism, and population growth. PoG garnered numerous awards and has become a cult classic.
Some may have looked at the cheap sets, Green’s deliberately campy performance, or the opening montage of the broadcast of an old nature show being interrupted by a storyline delivered through comics as being kind of hokey, but the show was worth watching. The authors and other guests gave fascinating insights into their own works as well as those of others and how these reflected our changing world. The show may not have taken itself seriously in a material sense, but it certainly did with its subject matter. That’s what took it beyond being charming into something that had a lasting value for those interested in the thoughts behind SF.
But, despite the quality of the show and its loyal following, TV Ontario, the station that produced the program, eventually cancelled “Prisoners of Gravity”.
But the Prisoners have broken out again – sort of.
Someone has started posting a couple of the episodes of “Prisoners of Gravity” on YouTube in multiple parts. Since this posting strays beyond nostalgia, perilously close to fanboy gushing, here’s a link to the first part of the episode examining fandom.
Thanks to Robert J. Sawyer (PoG’s most frequent guest) for spreading the news about the YouTube posting on his blog.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find some duct tape and a claw hammer to turn my wife’s Saturn into a booster rocket for my car/wannabe spaceship.

Just Wild About Harry

No, this is not a review of the new Harry Potter movie. It’s too hot to sleep, so I figured I’d do a little blogging since it’s been too long (or, some might say not long enough by far) since my last posting. Trouble is, despite the blast furnace night, I’ve gotta at least try to get some sleep to keep me on my feet at work tomorrow. Solution: a Harry Potter mish-mash.
The timing is certainly appropriate. As one reviewer noted over at Sci Fi Weekly, with the “Order of the Phoenix” movie making its debut this week and the next (and last) installment in the series of novels, “The Deathly Hallows” coming out next week, this could be known as The Summer of Harry Potter.
I have already been TOLD we are going to see the movie Friday night. No ifs, ands or buts. My wife is quite serious when it comes to getting her Potter fix. And she didn’t need to persuade much. I enjoy the books and movies myself. Rowling has done a great job of characterization and world-building and the series itself is a kind of bildungsroman (Hey, it’s been a while, I can be forgiven for using pretentious literary criticism terms once in a blue moon. Gotta justify that dusty English degree hanging on the wall at some point.) – a novel of growth.
And, as far as the novel goes, I have, as well, been ordered to obtain one on the release day next week. No early ordering for us. Nope. We take our chances (I know, life on the edge of book-buying, we’re a wild couple). And why not? Despite all the hype, every year that a Potter book has been released, we’ve always been able to buy one on the first day just by walking into a bookstore. Usually we’ll buy it from Canada’s big box book retailer Chapters because their membership card allows for a tiny discount off the cover price. This time, however, I think I’m going to take a stand against the impersonal giant and buy the novel at Greater Vancouver’s local sci-fi specialty bookseller White Dwarf. Sure, they’re too small to afford to give buyers 10% off the cover price, but supporting your local genre store is more important than saving a couple of bucks. I give White Dwarf my business because I know that despite their small square footage they’ve got a ton of stock (including books that have been out of print for years) and it’s a rare occasion that either through directed looking or simple browsing that I can’t find something I like, and most importantly, they know their books and their customers. You can ask them anything and they’ll have the answer or be able to make a trustworthy referral. And, of course, they get bonus points for having an easy-going old bloodhound whiling away the afternoon slumbering under a table in the middle of the shop. The Hogwarts kids have got cats and rats and owls for their familiars; the folks at White Dwarf have got the hound. There’s something fitting about that.
Over at SF Signal, the gang started working on a Potter-inspired list a couple of months ago that bears mentioning. With input from regulars (including me) they’ve constructed “The Harry Potter Outreach”: a list of books designed as a referral tool to help convince non-SF readers who enjoy Potter to start reading other quality speculative fiction. A beginner’s guide or introductory course in SF if you will. The list has two primary categories: science fiction and fantasy. Each of those is sub-divided into age groups (under 12, young adult, adult) with appropriate book recommendations. There are, of course, many venerable old standards like “The Hobbit”, “The Wizard of Oz”, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”, “Dune” and “Mote in God’s Eye”. But there are a fair number of new or books from the last two decades suggestions as well, including “The Iron Giant”, “Ilium”, “Coyote Kings of the Space Age Bachelor Pad” and “A Song of Ice and Fire”. Check this list out. Keep it handy. Sweet-talk your local librarian to make use of it. Pull it out whenever you’re talking to a Potterite who might be willing to explore the genre further if only given some quality guidance.
That’s it for this ramble. Must head for bed and hope for some spell of sleep to take hold. Instead of counting sheep, how many more days until Potter 7 is due out?

Watching The Stars On Canada Day

A belated Happy Canada Day to everyone out there! The sun finally made an appearance here on the Wet Coast this long weekend, so rather than post like a responsible blogger, I dragged my pasty Canuck self outside to blearily blink up at the big bright yellow thing and get a dose of summer. Walked along the dike road beside the Fraser River to the village of Steveston for its annual Salmon Fest. Got there too late – most of the display tents had packed up and left – including the gang from VCon32/Canvention27 who not only were at a table trying to encourage closet SF fans at the event to come out to this year’s con, but who also took part in the festival’s parade. Great to hear that they’re taking SF into the general community, just wish I could’ve seen their costumes amidst the standard parade fare.
Anyhow, to celebrate the nation’s 140th birthday, I took a break from reading the new biography of Einstein by Isaacson and pulled an old favourite off the shelf: “Northern Stars”, edited by David G. Hartwell and Glenn Grant. This hardcover collection of Canadian SF was released in 1994 to coincide with Winnipeg’s hosting of the Worldcon (my first con). Overall, it’s an excellent sampling of Canadian contributions to the genre, with short stories by Robert J. Sawyer, Phyllis Gotlieb, William Gibson, Robert Charles Wilson and Garfield Reeves-Stevens, to name just a few of the heavy hitters within. In addition to the fiction, there’s also a pair of thoughtful essays from the late Judith Merril and Candas Jane Dorsey on some of the things that make Canadian SF unique – an ambitious undertaking given that a nation’s literature in a greater sense mirrors a people’s perception of what it means to be of that nation, and in the case of Canada, an inherent part of our culture is that we’re still debating about and searching for exactly what it means to be Canadian. Which, as many have said, makes speculative fiction an appropriate medium to engage in this kind of head-scratching, naval-gazing and mining of the national psyche.

Do Androids Dream Of Cinematic Masterpieces?

It’s been 25 years since Ridley Scott took Philip K. Dick’s classic of futuristic paranoid dystopia, “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” and retooled it into “Blade Runner”. In doing so, Scott was something like Dr. Tyrell, building replicants along the design of their human creators, but with improvements necessary for survival in their new environments. The difference is that Scott’s creation, for all its variances from the original model, does not set out to destroy what was laid out in ‘Androids, rather “Blade Runner” pays tribute to what made the novel great. In fact, I remember a classmate way back in high school who was inspired to start reading the works of PKD because he enjoyed “Blade Runner” so much.
Volumes have been written about both the novel and the film, exploring the metaphysical questions, the elements of paranoia, the dehumanizing effects of technology and other nuances. Probably all of us who love SF movies and literature have discussed the subtext of these works with friends at one point or another. But tonight, as I re-watched “Blade Runner” to celebrate the anniversary, for whatever reason, those larger critical concerns were in the background as I found myself focusing on the masterful way this film was put together.
I’m not talking about the editing and pacing or casting of the movie (although those were spot-on), I’m talking about its look and sound and feel.
The claustrophobic towers and rain-slick streets are only the beginning when talking about how the environment in the movie becomes one of the characters.
It’s the light and shadows that make “Blade Runner” come alive. The ever-present darkness down on the street level is essential to the mood of film-noir on overdrive. The depth of the shadows between the buildings, on the faces of the people and in the contours of their clothes and bodies and between everyone completely isolates them in a way that few other movies have ever come close to. “Dark City” certainly attempted this feeling years later, but came nowhere near to the layering of shadow accomplished in Scott’s film.
When light makes its appearance, it is to create contrasts. The peons swarming along the streets are soaked in the greasy glare of neon, while high atop his ziggurat, Dr. Tyrell can actually see the sun, and moreover has the choice of whether to block it. For this king of the mountain, his artificial light of choice is the archaic but softer, more pampering candlelight.
Light is used to divide people – the slash of streetlight or sunlight coming through a window across a table separates Deckard from Rachael during his initial examination of her. The same occurs to a greater extreme in the opening sequence where the blade runner officer interviewing Leon is entirely lit by the window while the android is generally in shadow.
In “Blade Runner”, light is often used to give hints of things unseen rather than to illuminate. Returning to Deckard’s interview of Rachael, we see that marvelous shot once the windows have been darkened of the band of light across Deckard’s lower face. We’re seeing the working of the cop’s mouth during interrogation – what we’re subtly seeing clearly is the investigation by the numbers – what’s hidden from us (not completely, but, through the use of some shadow, metaphorically) are his eyes, and thus his thought process. We’re forced to read him purely on a physical level, which puts us to some degree in Deckard’s place – forced to deal with replicants as physical objects and unable (usually because of dangerous circumstances as well as his own orders) to get to know or care about what they’re thinking and feeling.
Sean Young’s hair styles throughout the movie are also used to manipulate light to create facades or hide things about her. In the beginning, the no-nonsense business coif allows her to put forward a serene mask of disdain, concealing the burgeoning inner turmoil about her identity which Tyrell tells Deckard he suspects is beginning to take root. The hair itself also creates a black aura around her, drawing the focus to her face instead of things around her (where an investigator might uncover details?) Later, when her hair comes down in Deckard’s apartment, it softens her look, but creates shadows to try to hide her now more openly troubling emotions.
Sebastian’s apartment is shrouded in gloom – there is much that is only hinted at there. We see android toys walking around in full shots in some scenes, but later we get quick, tight, medium-shot glimpses at them bound and gagged. We see a wasteland of wrecked toys and female mannequins giving rise to some vague unease about the state of mind of this supposedly innocent, childlike inventor.
Conversely, all is bright white in Chew’s frosty eyeball laboratory. The man has nothing to hide. Indeed, he’s even stripped of his cold-weather gear by Roy and Leon, and left in his longjohns, emphasizing that he isn’t concealing anything. His responses to their questions are open too: “I just do eyes” - he’s also pretty straight-forward about telling them where to find Sebastian.
Light is used to highlight character traits in other ways. We are very clearly meant to pick up on the danger Sebastian is about to find himself in when he first meets Pris, not only because we already know she’s an android, but because the twin streetlights with their pale greenish glow above and behind her have gone slightly out of focus and now look like cat’s eyes gazing down at a mouse (an image further enforced by the sound effect of the cat’s yowl woven into the scene). She also uses spray-on makeup to mask her eyes and thus her intentions, creating another contrast of light around her.
The sense of danger around Roy is always emphasized by his movement into and out of light: in neither condition is a person safe from him. It shows that the replicant leader is completely dangerous all the time.
For his part, our hero, Deckard, is almost always shrouded in half-light. For a tired and nearly broken, but still capable man (who may not be a man after all), varying degrees of shadow are his realm – one that he never leaves for long. Perfectly appropriate for a man who takes orders to deal out life and death, who hunts in the shadow world of streets and abandoned buildings, and who may be that which he pursues.
Hand-in-hand with lighting is the brilliant, highly limited, use of colour in this movie. This is a world where there aren’t many colours that exist. It is a place of black and white and grey, with some dingy browns, faded dark blues and highlights of sepia. This is true for wardrobe as well as décor. The trend is bucked when we see splashes of red in blood, street neon and a replicant’s lipstick.
Using brief slashes of colour for shock value in what would otherwise be a black & white movie in some ways makes “Blade Runner” a precursor of “Schindler’s List” or “Sin City”. It’s also interesting that colour was used as a highlight to a predominantly black & white world in another cinematic milestone that happened to be released in 1982: “Tron”.
These occasional appearances of red in “Blade Runner” usually mean trouble’s on the way: someone’s died, or Deckard’s on the street hunting or being hunted, or, in the case of lipstick, a male’s attention is being drawn to female beauty (whether it’s Deckard in the presence of Rachael, or Sebastian in the clutches of Pris) which is about to draw him into whole new levels of complexity and danger. Admittedly though, the red lipstick analogy gets strange at the end of the film when Roy smears Pris’ blood onto his mouth and chin – adding a gruesome lipstick of sorts. Does this mean he’s taking Pris unto himself in some profound way as he attempts to avenge her death? Is he trying to make her a part of him as he lashes out at a world of humans that have enslaved them?
Roy Batty’s colour – or lack of colour, is also extremely interesting. White is a colour associated with death in many Eastern cultures, and the replicant leader certainly brings enough of it to Earth with his gang of fugitives. On a flag, white is the colour of surrender, which is what Roy eventually does in the end, sitting down and waiting for death. Disturbingly, one might see Batty’s pale superhuman strength as a white supremacist’s ideal – though one that is short-lived and unsuccessful. In contrast, white is the colour of the saviour in the Christian tradition, and without a doubt, that’s the role Roy tries and fails to assume for his fellow androids, and yet successfully accomplishes by saving Deckard, the man trying to kill him. Certainly, we tend to connote white with innocence, and despite his bloody quest, there is an innocence about Roy in how he seems to savour his life, how he mourns the deaths of his friends (in telling Pris about Leon and Zhora, his facial expression looks very much like a little boy’s), and even the quest itself: yes, Tyrell’s right, Batty is aware that there have been no scientific breakthroughs to prolong his life, but the act of wanting to ask his creator to try once more implies innocence and hope. Even killing Tyrell in a twisted act of justice/vengeance is a kind of innocence in its attempt to impose meaning and consequence on an unfair life and universe. A true cynic would probably not have bothered with the voyage to Earth to begin with. One could even reach back into literary tradition and say that in being both hunter and hunted, being pierced by a sharp object at the end, by trying to protect others of his kind, Roy’s whiteness connects him to the whale Moby Dick – with the difference being that he sinks into death at the end, rather than under the waves, leaving Deckard afloat on the meaning of it all much as Ishmael took refuge on Queequeg’s coffin.
Just looking at this movie was a treat. But let’s not forget the sound.
Animal noises are used to underscore the emotions of scenes. I’ve previously mentioned the cat’s yowl associated with Pris, but let’s not forget Roy’s wolf-howl of anguish at her death, or the buzz of bees adding a frantic, coming-at-you-from-all-sides feeling to the chase through the rotting maze of rooms in the Bradbury hotel at the end.
There’s the endless, layered noise of the street. That was yet another layer of heaviness in the smothering darkness of futuristic Los Angeles.
And the soundtrack played an important role too. Vangelis’ weird synth soundscapes are appropriate for the pictures on screen; they’ve got a high-tech feel while maintaining an overwhelming weariness. The occasional blues piece is perfect for the burnt-out, raw-edged-nerve feeling of a beat-up Deckard at his limits. And the simplicity of a piano piece by itself painted all the pictures we needed of a lost and possibly non-existent childhood for Rachael.
The sights and sounds of “Blade Runner” are clearly ones we don’t want to experience for ourselves, but if we must dream with the androids, this film does a fantastic job of letting us feel their electric sheep.

Anime And Feeling Old

I’m not a super fan of anime, but I do enjoy pulling “Porco Roso” or “Royal Space Force/Wings of Honneamise” or “Ghost in the Shell” down off my DVD shelf and watching them on occasion. Anime has always been somewhere in the background and occasional foreground of my SF viewing for as long as I can remember. “Starblazers/Space Battleship Yamato”, “Battle of the Planets/Gotchaman” and “Robotech/Macross”, among others, were staples of TV over the years of my childhood and pre-teen years and augmented the western SF fare in terms of flushing-out ideas of how science fiction could be presented. Watching some of the older shows now stirs up a whole range of feelings and memories. One thing I never expected as a result of watching anime, though, was that it could make me feel old.
I’m not talking about feeling old in the sense of watching some show that you loved as a kid and saying “How the hell could I ever have wasted time on that?” like you might after seeing a rerun of “Mr. Belvedere”.
No, I mean old as in “That went to air when? No-one else remembers it? Geez, I must be old!”
That’s exactly what happened a couple of weeks ago, and it was a double-shot to boot! And both times concerned the afore-mentioned “Starblazers/Space Battleship Yamato”.
It started during the conversation with a friend about our favourite shows when we were kids (a discussion I’ve mentioned a couple of posts ago). One of the programs on my list, and in fact, one of the shows I recall watching as just a little guy back in the mid-late 70’s, was “Starblazers” (the North American title for “Space Battleship Yamato”). My friend, who’s only a couple of years younger than I am, didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. Granted, a couple of years can make a huge difference in terms of TV experience, and granted the TV stations she watched here in BC likely were running some different programs than what their counterparts were in Ontario where I grew up (and by extension, New York state, which had signals that could be picked up in some parts of Ontario), and granted because she was a girl she might not have paid any attention to the kick-ass space battles that I, as a boy, would have craved. But still, no idea that it existed at all? Suddenly, the few years between us began to feel like centuries. I felt like an old-timer trying to tell a modern kid about traveling by steamer.
The second blow came within a couple of days: my wife and I were strolling through a local mall when we noticed some hopeful young entrepreneurs had opened a store devoted to Japanese manga and anime and their spinoff toys, models, action figures, clothing, etc. We ambled in to check out their wares, fully expecting that we wouldn’t recognize most of the stock because we’re not immersed in this particular SF subculture, or that if we did recognize it, the items might be from some popular cheesy production like “Sailor Moon” that we wouldn’t watch if you paid us. And to be sure, there was a lot of merchandise for series/movies/whatever that we didn’t recognize. And there were more than a few statuettes of scantily-clad anime heroines with cat ears on the tops of their heads which we passed by.
But there, crowded up at the top of a side shelf, was a box with an illustration that I actually recognized. I crossed the room, reached up and brought it down for a closer inspection. It was none other than a model of the Yamato/Argo, the cosmic warship at the heart of “Space Battleship Yamato/Starblazers”. I was shocked that the storekeepers would stock such a retro item among the endless rows of mecha from the latest incarnation of the endless “Gundam” series. I was downright impressed.
Presumably because my wife and I didn’t fit the mold of his usual customers (17-year-old fanboys holed-up in their rooms in front of the latest videogame consol when they’re not on the streets trying to impress each other with their customized Honda Civics with oversized mufflers to create extra noise), one of the proprietors (just a tad older than his normal clientele and still happily lodged in their world when he wasn’t investing more of his dad’s money in the store) came scuttling over to ask if we needed help. He prattled on for a while about the minutia of the model, looked at me like I was a savage when I asked what type of modeling glue they recommended (it was a snap together! My fault for not having put together a model since I was 12 and assuming people who do these days might still have something called patience and steady hands), and prattled on some more.
I finally was able to get another word in and noted how surprised I was that they’d carry such an oldschool item amidst the new fads. The kid, with self-centred innocence, proceeded to explain how there was enough of a demand from the solid fanbase of 24-25-year-olds – “people my age” he said - who’d seen the "Yamato" and “Arcadia” (the battleship featured in the various “Captain Harlock” adventures) shows in their first run.
“First run?” I asked, smelling something off.
“Yeah,” he said, “we were the first ones who watched the shows. The videos came out about 12-15 years ago.”
Huh? “Starblazers” first aired in North America in ’77 (originally launched in Japan in ’74). This kid wasn’t even a glint in his father’s eye back then.
I did my best to keep a straight face and to prevent myself from sounding too condescending when I quietly interjected with “Actually, it’s people my age, in their mid-30’s to early 40’s who saw ‘Yamato’ when it first ran on TV in the 70’s.”
The kid looked at me like I was from Iscandar. He simply couldn’t fathom the possibility that this particular artifact of anime predated his own birth by nearly a decade. It was like he was trying to decide whether I was bullshitting him or if he had to suddenly re-evaluate his whole concept of the history of anime.
Not wanting him to strain anything, I changed the subject by asking if he had any smaller models. He didn’t, so after a cursory glance at a few other items in the store, my wife and I left.
For me, the experience was another blow. Leaving a self-proclaimed anime expert stunned because I’d watched a particular series not only years before he had, but years before he was born, made me feel like a bit of a relic. I don’t think this incident would have weighed as heavily as it has if it hadn’t been for that previous discussion with my friend.
The odd thing is, I know I shouldn’t be quite so surprised at being dated. It happens all the time when I chat with my parents’ 14-year-old godson, who’s “Star Wars” experience in the theatre is exclusively the new prequel trilogy. For him, the originals are things that only exist in video format and lack much of the emotional punch because they’ve already been spoiled by the prequels.
Maybe anime is different somehow in its impact precisely because it is animated. Sure, this particular medium has been using CG for years now, but still, it is, ultimately animation. The tropes, themes, and yes, even the visual styles, haven’t really changed much over the years. It’s that continuity that probably lulled me into not seeing the passing of time in quite the same way. And yet, time has passed, and at the tender age of 33, having seen the old anime series that I have in their first North American runs, having watched the Yamato cruise off into the sea of stars on an old wood-cabinet TV in a fake-wood-paneled 70’s basement, I am now something of an old-timer when it comes to discussions of anime.
If you’ll excuse me, I feel a “Back in my day…” rant coming on. I’d better get my rocking chair and cat ready.

Series III Of Doctor Who

CBC just aired the first episode of Series III of Doctor Who this evening and it was a smashing way to launch this next installment in the legend.
Admittedly, this is all pretty old hat to anyone in the UK who saw this a while ago, but for those of us here in the Great White North, we’ve had to wait until the Sleepy-C got around to securing the broadcast rights and actually making time to air it - meaning the Mothercorp had no interest in running a Brit SF show, no matter how popular, until the Stanley Cup playoffs were over and they needed summer filler.
Anyhow, it’s finally here and I’m looking forward to getting my next fix of the adventures of the 10th Doctor.
The first episode, “Smith and Jones” had all of what makes a great installment for the 10th Doctor in all the right measure: lightning plot pacing, rapid-fire dialogue and loads of humour (both blatant slapstick and more subtle fare, like the hospital consultant who gets the blood sucked out of him being named “Mr. Stoker”). Was it the smartest episode ever produced? Nope. It was as shallow as a Mr. Turtle Pool. But that’s okay, because they don’t all have to be dark and brooding or sad. One of the virtues of the Doctor over the decades has been that the show has no problems turning on a dime and indulging in silliness from time to time. That’s prevented the show from getting too full of itself. Watching this episode was like having the pleasure of seeing an old Abbot and Costello film with all of the vaudeville snappiness and energy.
I also appreciate the writers keeping the continuity of the previous season’s storyline intact – the characters make a passing reference to the recent war against the Daleks and Cybermen. Other writers might have been tempted to make no mention of this catastrophe, but here it’s acknowledged as something that’s had a significant impact on the lives of ordinary people. They’re not dwelling on it, but it’s a fact of their lives and it’s what, in part, gives the Doctor’s new Companion the grounding to deal with the crisis at hand.
And that leads me to the introduction of said new Companion, medical student Martha Jones (played with easygoing confidence by Freema Agyeman). She’s extremely intelligent (or, as the Doctor says: “She’s as clever as me. Almost.”), cool under fire, funny, and, oh yeah, verrrry easy on the eyes. Clearly Agyeman’s up to the challenge, and if the writers continue to write her character with such high calibre, this series is sure to create a benchmark in Doctor-Companion relationships, and Companion quality in general. Hers is the kind of personality that lets the audience know she’s going to be a full participant in the adventures to come, not just a moving prop who squeaks “Oh, Doctor, what’s going on?” as some others have.
Of course, we also need to give full credit to David Tennant for continuing to play the Doctor with aplomb. He’s still got all the geeky energy he brought to the beginning of Series II that made him so charming, and can instantly shift gears to give you a glimpse of the Doctor’s depths. This is an actor who clearly isn’t taking the role for granted just because he’s in his second season and getting good reviews. Tennant remains engaging, and with the writers, has forged a stand-out Doctor amid a pantheon unique individuals and takes on the part. While Tennant’s predecessor, Christopher Eccleston, did a competent job with the role, the 10th Doctor has been the most engaging personality since Tom Baker.
With Doctor Who back on the air, suddenly prime time TV doesn’t seem like such a wasteland any more.

Finding The Dragons Amid The Hoard

Youtube is like a crow’s nest. An octopus’ garden. A dragon’s hoard. It’s a vast pile of video, mostly junk, where, if you’re a determined searcher, if someone else gives you a good tip, or if you’re just plain lucky, you might find buried treasure. The other day, my friend Kim and I were reminiscing about our favourite cartoons and animated features from childhood. One that sprang quickly to mind for me was “The Flight of Dragons”. On a whim, I decided to probe Youtube to see if I could find any trace of it. I wasn’t holding out much hope, since the producers and distributors have never transferred this feature to DVD (there are VHS copies available from some sources online, but if I’m going to spend money on something like this, I’d like it to be a quality copy on modern technology) and there aren’t many people these days who remember it.
But the gods of retro animated video must have been smiling that day, because I found it! And not just the official feature trailer or fan-created videos, but the whole thing! Someone has posted the entire “The Flight of Dragons” movie onto Youtube in 11 parts (each about 10 minutes long). Jackpot!
So I sat down in front of the computer the other night and relived the magic. And I’ve gotta say, in the decades since I originally saw it on TV, “The Flight of Dragons” hasn’t lost its charm.
The story (based on the novels of Gordon R. Dickson and Peter Dickinson, screenplay by Romeo Muller) is about Peter, a 20th century man, pulled back into a magical past to aid the forces of good in a quest to defeat an evil wizard bent on world domination. The tale takes a twist when a spell gone wrong puts merges Peter with a dragon, leaving the man’s mind in control of the fire drake’s gigantic body. In the final showdown, Peter must choose between science and magic to save the world.
Sure, the copy posted to Youtube is dark and isn’t as crisp as it would be if the movie was available on DVD to watch at home. The animation style is a bit dated. Sometimes the dialogue is a bit clunky and on occasion John Ritter goes a bit over-the-top in playing the hero, Peter Dickinson, as a wistful geek.
But on the balance, this feature still has a lot going for it. The story sets itself up quickly but thoroughly and the pacing is logical in how it drives its characters forward. There’s a nice attempt to scientifically explain how a creature as large as a dragon could fly. Some of the dialogue works very well and there’s a fair amount of humour. Hats off to James Earl Jones for a great performance as the evil wizard Ommadon.
It’s also impressive how thoughtful a meditation the film is on how much room there is for magic in the scientifically-driven world of man. In the story this question is literal – magical forces are being diminished and fantastic creatures are being marginalized by the encroaching technology of humans. In a metaphorical sense though, the question is what room is there for dreams and fantasy in our pragmatic modern world. The answer is stated explicitly by the good wizard Carolinus in the opening act, and underscored in the finale with Peter’s victory over Ommadon and his awakening of Princess Melisande - there needs to be a balance: while one must live within the practical, real world, there needs to be imagination to energize us to improve ourselves and everything around us. A great lesson for kids and an important reminder for adults.
It’s also significant to note that “The Flight of Dragons” didn’t pull any punches in what it showed to kids. Sure there was fun and adventure and good triumphed over evil, but there was a price. In this movie, there is death – of heroes as well as villains. The old dragon, Smrgol, dies after slaying the evil Ogre of Gormley Keep in a bid to save the other heroes. Nearly all of the good guys are killed by the wicked dragon Bryagh during the climactic battle (although they are brought back to life by the good wizards after Peter’s victory). Even bystanders are not safe – the innkeeper is murdered by the Ogre of Gormley Keep when it comes to capture the heroes, and the film opens with the deaths of innocents: a swan and some faeries riding it are pulled under and killed by a mill wheel. And in presenting death as a consequence of adventure, as the sometime price of confronting evil, “The Flight of Dragons” was very much a creature of its time – mortality was a staple of movies (animated and live action) geared in part or in whole to child audiences during the 70’s and early-mid 80’s. “Watership Down”, Disney’s “Tron” and “The Black Hole” and “Child of Glass”, “The Secret of Nimh”, “The Dark Crystal”, “Starblazers” (“Space Cruiser Yamato”) and “Robotech” (“Macross”) to name but a few, all saw heroes or their sidekicks/advisors or bystanders die. To a lesser extent we see it also in “The Last Unicorn” where there is a definite sense of loss for the title character when she returns to her equine form from human shape – though she has freed her people, she can no longer truly be one of them, having experienced complex human emotions – a death of sorts. You’d be hard-pressed to find films or TV programs with children as part of the intended audience these days that featured the death of a good guy or bystander. I don’t think the killing of yesteryear was something gratuitous that TV producers had to learn to get past either. I think the presentation of death in those features was a kind of honesty, a courage to deal with children and young adult audiences with respect and an understanding that they possessed a degree of maturity. It was a way of telling kids that winning out over evil or injustice doesn’t always come without some kind of a sacrifice. Writers and producers of that era very clearly had the example of Frodo (and to a much lesser extent, Boromir) from “The Lord of the Rings” in mind when creating their fantasies.
I can only hope that we see a return to this kind of honesty in film-making for younger audiences. In the meantime, I hope we’ll someday see “The Flight of Dragons” available in a restored, high-quality form on DVD for future generations to appreciate.

Update On Aurora Award Nominations

There’s been an update on this year’s Aurora Awards: the nomination submission deadline has been extended to July 23rd.
Good news for anyone who wanted more time to think or who missed Friday’s original deadline.
I managed to get mine in on time, but not without a fair amount of consternation. Nominating the three best Canadian short stories this year was easy; there were lots of great ones to choose from – in fact, it was very tough to choose. I picked Dave Whittier’s “Coming Back to Kabul” from the Summer 2006 edition of On Spec, “Threshold of Perception” by Scott Mackay from “Tesseracts Ten” and Sandra Kasturi’s “Frankenstein’s Monster’s Wife’s Therapist”, also from “Tesseracts Ten”.
There were also a few good titles for the category for anthologies.
The section that should be easy, and the one that this year was impossible for me, was the novel category. Unfortunately, I’d read only one novel published in 2006 by a Canadian author, Bakker’s “The Thousandfold Thought”, and there was no way I was going to nominate that steaming pile of crap. There’s a nice big list of eligible books on the Canadian SF Works Database. Sadly, the closest I’ve come to any of the others is to make a note to add a couple to my “to read” pile. Not having read them, I couldn’t in good conscience nominate any. And I’m never happy when I have to leave a section of a nomination form blank.
At any rate, if you’re a Canadian citizen or a permanent resident of Canada, make sure you get your nomination form in.

Live And Let Die

This past Wednesday was “The End of the World”. At least, according to Steve at the blog My Elves Are Different. The site posted a neat challenge to bloggers around the world: on Wednesday, June 13, post as though there’s been a massive outbreak of zombies – tell the rest of the net what’s happening in your city as the living get routed by hordes of the gibbering, brain-eating undead. Dozens of bloggers, including the boys over at SF Signal, rose to the challenge of reporting the fictional devastation, and in some cases, their own demise.
From the few posts I’ve read so far, it looks as though everyone who participated had a riot (so to speak). Hats off to you if you took part and managed to make it through the day without losing your head… or brain… or, well, really any other bits and pieces for that matter, to the ravening zombies.
I’d thought about taking part in this blog challenge myself but held off for two reasons. First, I’m not a fan of the zombie sub-genre of books and films. They scared the crap outta me as a kid (I blame, in equal parts, the Stephen King novels my cousin used to read out loud to us, and “Thriller”), and as an adult I’m indifferent to them. I figured I’d leave this challenge to the true fans, so as not to be a poseur (I’ve been called many things in my life, some of them deservedly, but never a wannabe). Second, I was, admittedly, mighty tempted to take part anyway, just cause it looked like one hell of a fun writing exercise, but I checked my schedule at work and knew I wouldn’t have the time to post enough during the day to do the thing justice.
At any rate, I applaud My Elves Are Different for having the creativity to organize such a big theme blog event.

Awards

Canada’s Space: The Imagination Station gave out its annual “Spacey” awards for the best in science fiction, fantasy and horror film, TV and video games this evening. Viewers pick the winners in some of the categories while the channel’s staff pick the others.
I must admit I’m feeling like a bit of a sore loser after having watched the production… very few of my picks garnered prizes this year.
At least it was entertaining to watch host Jonathan Llyr hamming it up between the awards (like getting boxed into doing set security on “Stargate Atlantis”). Host Natasha Eloi is always fun to watch too. Hats off to the various guest producers like Bruce Boxleitner, Katee Sackhoff and Bryan Singer. And while it’s always nice to watch host Kim Poirier, listening to her is quite another matter. The girl still hasn’t learned how to be at ease on-camera – waaaaaay too much posing and forced dialogue delivery (she could put Shatner to shame sometimes).
Check out the Spaceys page for the winners by category.

And speaking of Canadian SF awards…

If you’re a Canuck who loves speculative fiction, whether you’re at home or abroad, remember to get your votes in for this year’s Aurora Awards (nomination forms can be downloaded from the Awards’ site). The deadline for mailing your nominations is June 15.

At Wits' End After Recent "Pirates" Movie

I feel like I’ve been cast adrift in a dinghy with minimal provisions after watching the latest Disney “Pirates” movie.
It was one of the popcorn films I knew I’d end up seeing this summer at some point, not because it was at the top of my to-see list, but because my wife was looking forward to it. I enjoyed “Curse of the Black Pearl” immensely, but “Dead Man’s Chest” left me singing “ho-hum” instead of “yo-ho”, so I wasn’t itching like a sailor who’s been at sea too long to see “At World’s End”.
Admittedly, the third installment in the “Pirates” franchise (based on the Disney theme park ride) had its moments. The special effects were top-notch, the stunts and fight sequences were cool, and the humour lubricated the film enough to help me get past the armada of things that didn’t work.
And there were many.
Worst of all was the convoluted story: betrayals, defections, misunderstandings, secrets and strange mythologies were flying around like deck and hull fragments in a naval battle. Why bring sea goddesses, pirate lords, pirate kings, pirate code keepers and the like into the mix? Why begin the film with the main characters skulking around Asia, leaving out so much backstory that I spent the first 15 minutes of the movie trying to piece together what had supposedly happened between the end of “Dead Man’s Chest” and the beginning of “At World’s End”? If the writers, directors and producers had kept the story simple – how to get Jack Sparrow back from the dead, eliminate the threat of Davy Jones and the East India Company boss and arrange for Will and Elizabeth to finally tie the knot – the movie would have been on par with the first installment. It’s almost like they were afraid the audience was tired of the franchise and that they had to cram all the “cool” ideas they had for another four or five films into this one, just in case they didn’t get the chance to make any more (despite some rumours that more films are potentially in the works).
All of that was manageable until the final battle sequence, when all logic was forced to walk the plank and I followed it, bailing on any further enjoyment of the movie. Now, I’m just like most of you out there: I have very little patience for weasely little fanboys who sit there and use technicalities to bitch about a movie and tear it to pieces when said presentation is a work of fantasy. BUT (there’s always a but, and in my case, it’s fairly large) what I do want to see, what is a true hallmark of skill in writing a fantasy film, is that the film is logically consistent within itself.
For example, during “Curse of the Black Pearl”, when Sparrow and Turner decide to steal a Royal Navy ship to pursue the Black Pearl, they have their choice of two vessels and, quite rationally, they make off with the smaller one. Why? Because they can’t manage a large ship-of-the-line with only two men, and because the smaller ship, being smaller, was much faster. The film, though a fantasy (how many undead pirates have you seen stomping around your local harbour these days?), generally stuck with reason when it came to this aspect of seamanship. At another point in the film, those listening to the tale of Sparrow’s escape from an island were quick to question the believability of a man lashing two sea turtles together with his own hair and riding them to port.
But in the final act of “At World’s End”, all logic is forgotten. They’re not even trying any more. Case in point: the slugfest where Sparrow and Turner, each in command of a ship, take on Endeavour, presumably a Royal Navy vessel (but let’s just say British from now on, in case someone wants to take issue with me and claim the ship, even of that size and firepower, was privately owned by the East India Company), that would appear to be first rate, maybe second rate in its line position. Initially, the two pirate vessels are running perpendicular to Endeavour – okay, that would be a prudent navel tactic a smart captain would be aware of and, in fact, prefer: “crossing the T”. It would allow both pirate vessels to fire off broadsides, using maximum firepower, against Endeavour’s bow, allowing the British vessel to use only the minimal weaponry in the bow against both ships. The Brits would have taken a brutal beating. Something that would sit well with any pirate. Did they do it? Nope. They came about, flanking Endeavour and went broadside-to-broadside. Why is this so dumb? Because Endeavour’s broadside firepower so clearly (just look at the side of the ship) massively overmatches either the Black Pearl or Turner’s ship, that both pirate vessels would have been torn to pieces. Doesn’t happen though. Our merry band of seagoing scofflaws must triumph. We also see Endeavour quite literally blown to pieces after just one pass by the two attacking pirate ships. Now, I’m no historical naval expert, but I have read a little about warships of the time, and they were built fairly tough. Even after a beating like that, Endeavour should have at least been afloat, if not battleworthy. Oh, and why did it take such a pounding? Because it’s captain/admiral/whatever, stood around waiting for the East India Company bad guy to give the order to fire. Odds of a senior naval officer, no matter how incompetent, allowing that to happen: almost, if not, zero. But the pirates must have their day. And then, when the flagship goes down, the fleet of several dozen British vessels turns tail and flees from the much smaller pirate fleet. Uh-huh. But if the boats full of robbers, rapists and murderers don’t win, it’s not an American summer blockbuster. Again, I really don’t like to be one of those technical fanboys pissing on a fantasy movie’s campfire, but really, this film could’ve been saved if it would have kept some reason. Instead of a whole fleet of British ships, why not just one? Why not a smaller one? Why not have the sea goddess damage it in her storm? (the storm and whirlpool, helping neither side, being about the only thing she did besides belatedly claiming to be mighty honked-off at both the pirates and Davy Jones – you’d think a tetchy deity would be able to inflict just a tad more directed wrath and smite a few specific people instead of making it rain and stirring the sea like a martini without actually destroying any ships) Something, anything that would justify the British vessel going down so easily.
“Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End” is not a bad movie. I don’t think I would have regretted renting it. I just felt like I’d wasted my theatre time and money on it when I probably could have been in the cinema next door seeing a more enjoyable fantasy popcorn flick. If Disney, Bruckheimer, Verbinski and co decide to launch more “Pirates” movies in the future, I hope they come to their senses, forget about the last two installments, and look back to “Curse of the Black Pearl” for inspiration.

Going Down A Familiar Road

I just got finished dusting myself off after reading Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road”, and while it was a good book, to a science fiction fan, this isn’t a new road at all. No, as far as post-apocalyptic SF goes, “The Road” is more like a new layer of asphalt paved over an existing highway that’s been paved and re-paved a bunch of times already. A highway which in turn was built over an old dirt road, which itself was nothing more than a widening of an old horse trail overtop of an older footpath which took the place of an old animal trail. The mainstream readers of the world (those part of Madame O’s cult of personality or otherwise) may see this as startling and new, but SF fans have been down this road before.
In describing the desolation of a blasted and dying world, to oppress the psyche of the reader to such a profound degree with its total finality, it takes McCarthy 284 pages to say what Ray Bradbury did in only 8 pages with “There Will Come Soft Rains” near the end of ‘The Martian Chronicles”.
For the sense of individuals trying to maintain and/or rebuild themselves amidst the ruin of an old world, Walter M. Miller’s “A Canticle for Liebowitz” paved the way decades ago, and gave us an entire cycle of death, rebirth and death again. This was echoed years later with Asimov and Silverberg’s novelization of “Nightfall”.
Individuals scavenging among the ruins for survival in a world where it’s nearly impossible to rebuild because other humans have been forced by that very struggle for survival to debase themselves beyond humanity? Let’s tap a pop culture icon for an example here: how about the “Mad Max” films?
And as for cross-country journeys through the badlands in the hopes of finding a better place, we can again look to film – how about some seriously retro stuff in the form of “Damnation Alley”? (ah, George Peppard ramming across the desert in his heavily-armed silver phallic symbol, the Landmaster – the American redneck’s wet dream) Or why not something a little more offbeat, like “Watership Down”? (the Richard Adams novel or the animated movie)
Books about the relationship between two people (father and son or other types of relationship) clinging to each other through tragedy are legion in SF and mainstream literature – far too many to mention. I’ll go with Bradbury’s “Martian Chronicles” again because it contains a few examples along these lines and it’s close at hand. Pretty much anything by Dickens if you want a mainstream example.
To keep things from being impossibly bleak, to make some nod to the hope that lies within human nature (at least the nature of some humans), McCarthy does offer a kernel of bright possibility at the end of his tale. But again, SF fans have seen the flower amidst the ashes before – let’s look at Bradbury’s “Martian Chronicles” again, the last chapter with two families having escaped the devastation on Earth in the hopes of opening a new chapter for humanity on Mars.
Again, let me stress, “The Road” isn’t a bad book. It’s quite good if you want to be depressed on a “Jude the Obscure” level. What I am saying is ignore the hype. It’s a good book, but not one of the greatest ever written, and certainly you don’t need a map to see that it’s not heading in any new directions.

"Canadian SF Works Database" Now Online

Canada’s Dean of Science Fiction, Robert J. Sawyer, and Marcel Gagne have launched a new wiki called The Canadian SF Works Database.
The aim of the site is “to be a database of titles to provide a memory aid for people who are nominating titles for the various awards”.
It’s still in its infancy, but I think it’s a notion that’s long overdue. There’s a lot of great Canadian speculative fiction out there and it would be mighty helpful to have a central archive of it somewhere – not just for awards, but also for people who want to browse to find out what their favourite authors have been publishing that they may have missed, and also for forgetful types like me who stumble around when blogging trying to recollect which name goes with what title.
The site works on a membership basis, but once you’ve signed-up you’re free to mine the database and to add to it.
Thanks, Robert and Marcel, for getting the ball rolling on this!

"Babylon 5: The Lost Tales" Trailer

Spacecast.com’s Hypaspace page is running a link to the official “Babylon 5” page on the Warner Brothers site featuring a trailer for the new direct-to-DVD movie “Babylon 5: The Lost Tales”. Click on the “Main Menu” icon. It’ll automatically run a trailer for the B5 series, but if you click on “The Lost Tales” tab next to it the TLT movie trailer should start up.
Normally I don’t like to get into speculations about what’s coming up, but B5 is one of the most intelligent, one of the all-around best television shows ever, so I feel a little fanboy gushing is permissible. If there’s nothing on TV and I’m hankering for some high-quality sci-fi, there’s a good chance I’ll pull one of the seasons of B5 off my video shelf and watch a favourite episode or two. Once every 15 or 16 months or so, I’ll watch the whole series again (sometimes followed by the movies collection and “Crusade”).
Admittedly, I’m a little cautious, given the universal tomato-throwing “The Legend of the Rangers” earned. I still haven’t seen that one yet (can’t rent it locally, it’s only available for purchase), but one of these days I’ll spend a few bucks to see for myself what was so bad and to try to figure out how Andreas Katsulas would get involved with it.
That being said, the trailer for TLT doesn’t look half bad, so I’m remaining cautiously optimistic.

Khaaaaaaaaaaan!!!

Twenty-five years ago today, William Shatner spewed Admiral James T. Kirk’s frustration and rage against his gloating nemesis Khan across the cold lengths of an uncaring universe in “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan”.
And pop culture (especially SF) hasn’t been the same since. How many times has that shout been lampooned over the years? How many times have we, as science fiction fans, borrowed that bellow to vent our own frustration and rage on a cold and uncaring universe? Or better still, how many times have we used that yell as the basis for comparison of all other impassioned verbal explosions? I know Kirk’s outburst was the measuring stick I used against Darth Vader’s feeble “Nooooooo!” at the end of “Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith”. James Earl Jones could’ve taken a few lessons from Shatner on that one. Probably the only time in the history of the universe that anyone would say that James Earl Jones could take a lesson from William Shatner, but there it is.
All kidding aside, overall, TWOK was a great movie for a number of reasons.
Sure there’s the infamous gossip around Shatner’s scene-stealing antics and overacting, and sure, we as an audience have to wonder why it’s always the Enterprise that’s the only Starfleet vessel close enough to deal with any given emergency, but this film had a lot going for it.
Let’s start with what were great special effects for it’s day. Say what you will about modern special effects advances with photo-real computer animation, some of those old model-based films had a look and texture that was real enough, if only for the moment, to move the story along. The initial space battle where Khan’s Reliant surprise attacks Enterprise still raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
The cinematography was truly masterful when it came to underscoring the punch of certain plot points too. One of the best-shot scenes in a prolonged action sequence in western cinema had to be when Spock hacked Reliant’s main computer, ordering it to lower its shields; panic hits Khan and his crew; as Khan orders his minions to raise the shields the camera does a quick pan across the control panel to highlight the confusion of the supermen when dealing with an unexpected emergency with unfamiliar equipment, before cutting back to Khan before Kirk orders Enterprise to start blazing away. It would have been adequate to simply go with a close-up of Ricardo Montalban and rely on his acting to show us panic. It was brilliant to actually show us his point of view and the impossibility of figuring out how to work the controls amidst the surprise.
TWOK had a strong, focused plot too, with subplots that complemented each other. (Something that can’t be said for all Trek films) It presented themes of revenge, obsession, coming to terms with unexpected family, coming to terms with midlife crisis and self-worth, the implications of enormous power. There was an obvious, strong "Moby Dick" metaphor at work (Melville being one of the holy trinity for Star Trek – in addition to Twain and Shakespeare) and there were allusions to Dickens among others.
And the writers forced us an audience to deal with something quite rare for heroic action movies – especially installments in serials – the death of a major character. A Red Shirt here and there, that’s to be expected. Killing off a secondary character? That helps move the plot along. But killing Spock, a primary character and audience favourite, was a gutsy move that took TWOK a bit beyond the typical summer popcorn fare it would have been otherwise. It was an emotional punch that forced the audience to grow up a bit, and James T. Kirk to grow up a lot. Sure, in the words of Monty Python’s “The Holy Grail” Spock “got better”, but at the time this death was a serious event that was handled deftly and with thought by the writing team.
Ultimately, it’s this maturity to the plot that allows it to stand the test of time. I don’t know how many times over the years I’ve watched “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan”, but these days it tends to be about once a year, and I still enjoy it. The same can’t be said of other installments in the franchise.

A Really Late Review: "Overclocked"

And here’s yet another really, really , really late book review. I’m trying not to make a habit of this. This time it’s for Cory Doctorow’s latest offering: “Overclocked – Stories of the Future Present”, a collection of six short stories.
Now some of you might point out that any review of the contents of this collection would be about as outdated as William Shatner’s toupee in “The Wrath of Khan” since Doctorow released the individual stories for free on his website long in advance of the hardcopy version hitting the bookstore shelves. And you’d be right.
But I’m kind of old fashioned that way – I like to feel a book in my hands, smell the paper and watch the lamplight caress the words on the pages. So, rather than download the individual stories and read them off my computer screen (‘cause I do enough reading off of the computer on a daily basis at work) or run-down the ink cartridge on my printer putting it into hard copy myself, I waited for the book to be released. And boy did I have to wait… When the print release date finally rolled around, I happily trotted over to White Dwarf Books (my local SF bookstore) to grab a copy, but shockingly, there wasn’t a single volume to be found. Stunning, since these guys carry everything, even old stuff that’s been out of print for years. When I asked what was going on, they sighed and said that since the stories had been released online for free, it was unlikely that many people (besides me) would bother paying for a copy and thus they hadn’t ordered any. Needless to say, I was somewhat floored. I’ve done my best to stay out of the free online distribution vs. paid print edition debate, but this was the first time its ramifications had jumped into the practical world, grabbed me by the collar and given me a good shake. Now, to be fair, the nice people at White Dwarf did offer to order me a copy, but I figured I’d let them stick to their principles on this one, and because I wanted the book right away, I decided to go corporate. I tried one of the local outlets of Chapters – Canada’s big box book retailer. Now when it comes to their SF stock, Chapters is known for loading up on lots of cheesy role-playing-game-based books and making populist and otherwise odd choices for the rest of its merchandise, and never keeping more than a pittance of classics on hand at a given time. I’m not completely opposed to Chapters, I’d just rather give my business to the little guy who has lots of the good stuff on hand and actually knows what he’s talking about when you ask him a question. At any rate, I got lucky – the big box actually did have “Overclocked” on hand.
Which was great, because I’d been looking forward to it since Doctorow first let it be known this collection was in the works. I’ve always been a fan of Doctorow’s fiction. Not only is he a great writer, he’s also a Canadian (though currently an ex-pat) who happily sets a number of his tales in his country of origin (Toronto, generally, but those of us who live outside the centre of the universe will forgive him that). Stylistically, I’ve always seen him as the bastard child of William Gibson and Douglas Coupland – he dances through modern and just-over-the-horizon technological issues with the greatest of ease while presenting well-flushed-out characters with heart.
And “Overclocked” didn’t disappoint.
I won’t say that every story within is a gem. They’re not. Only a couple are memorable. But they are all solid and enjoyable in the moment. Of note are “After the Siege”, “When Sysadmins Ruled the Earth” and “I, Row-Boat”.
To be fair, I think the main reason why “After the Siege” sticks out in my mind is because of Doctorow’s preface where he talks about why the story is so personal to him. The tale of a girl struggling to survive while her home city is under a prolonged siege is based on the experiences of Doctorow’s grandmother, who lived through the siege of Leningrad during the Second World War. The story itself does a capable job of illustrating how in such an environment, horrors are commonplace and the day-to-day efforts to survive are as great as the efforts to resist the enemy.
“When Sysadmins Ruled the Earth” is the tale of computer systems administrators around the world who survive a massive terrorist attack/war involving multiple types of weapons of mass destruction, and their efforts to rebuild society using their technological know-how and political idealism. It’s a SF-fan’s fantasy of a post-apocalyptic world where the geeks are on top instead of the tough guys – as though Brain were the bad-ass in “Escape from New York” instead of Snake Plissken or The Duke. Most importantly, it’s a story of people who really try to hold things together, to stave off entropy, despite overwhelming odds.
My favourite of the bunch though was “I, Row-Boat”. It’s the story of a dingy that possesses artificial intelligence, working with an automated pleasure diving expedition yacht in the Coral Sea to help post-human tourists who download themselves into bodies for vacations. Robbie the Row-boat’s routine of ferrying tourists and contemplating Asimovian-3-Laws philosophy is interrupted one day when a meddling post-human decides to “uplift” a coral reef by giving it intelligence and self-awareness, and the newly-awakened reef is cranky at the thought of intruders near-by. It’s a funny story, but I think what gives “I, Row-Boat” its punch is the fact that among all the characters (post-human, AI, uplifted reef), the post-humans are the least human. They’ve lost quite a bit in leaving their bodies behind to exist as vast intelligences residing in computer systems in the cold spaces between the planets. They engage in weird experiments like giving awareness to a coral reef without considering or caring about the consequences of their actions. The AI’s, struggling to find meaning in the world, are more human than their creators. The story is an existential masterpiece.
Is “Overclocked” Doctorow’s greatest book? No. As short story collections go, “A Place So Foreign and 8 More” is stronger and I think his most interesting and touching narrative is the novel “Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town”. That being said, “Overclocked” is a solid collection and worth owning – whether you’ve downloaded it for free or packed home the hardcopy.