I showed TERMINATOR to my cousin for the first time last night.
He was aware of the franchise, and had seen most or all of TERMINATOR 3 online, and we talked about time travel the other night until nearly three.
I love THE TERMINATOR. I first saw it when I was a kid, on its first television broadcast on NBC. I remember being totally absorbed by it, and that it was unlike anything I had ever seen before.*
When I got to high school, I met a guy who actually had a copy of the movie (taped off HBO or something), and he knew it back and forth. When T2 was coming out, he and I and my two best friends all loaded up in his little Dodge Neon and drove to the city to watch it on opening night.
There was a new theatre that had just opened up in 1990, and was state of the art for its time (though, sadly, that four-screen theatre has already closed, to be replaced by a sixteen-screen building a block away), and it had a life-sized cardboard cutout of Schwarzenegger on his motorcycle with a red LED light on his left eye, and we all got our picture taken standing next to it (though, sadly, I never got a copy of that particular photo).
We all enjoyed T2 greatly, but I was disappointed it didn't have Kyle Reese in it, even though I had seen a publicity photo with him and Linda Hamilton for the movie. TERMINATOR 2: JUDGMENT DAY was the biggest hit of that summer, and was, until recently, the biggest-grossing R-rated film in history (I believe it's now MATRIX 2). But I always loved the original, and treasured its memory.
And the next year, when TERMINATOR was released on sell-through videocassette, I bought my own copy.* Around 1995 or '96, I bought it again, this time on widescreen tape (does anyone remember that brief fad?). I bought it a third time when it was released as a special edition DVD in the '00s. And when my DVD collection was stolen in 2004, it was one of the few films they left (they must have been distracted because they/he left a big shopping bag he was carrying them out with, abandoning all the movies after the S's). I don't have a Blu-Ray player, so that's still my go-to copy of the film.
So, cut to 2009, with a new sequel about to hit theatres, and my cousin suddenly interested in the franchise. He had asked me to borrow the Terminator series many times in the past, but I had refused, knowing he'd get in trouble if he borrowed them (and I'd get in trouble if I lent them to him), and after months of putting it off, I finally watched the flick with him last night.
I tried not to build it up too high, since that almost always backfires (I once described a flick to my chum Matthew as "maybe the best horror film ever made" before we saw it, and afterward he said, "You know, I wish you hadn't said that," as he expected something much better than what I showed him), only hoping that he'd dig it as much (or almost as much) as I did.
It is one of the films I defend most vigorously, since so many people chide its "primitive" special effects nowadays (and I hate people who can't appreciate just how good the effects of the Eighties were, or who compare 1982 films to 2007 CGI extravaganzas), and I was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed the movie now as much as I ever did. My cousin didn't say much throughout, but when the film was over, he said, "You know, that was one of the best movies I've ever seen."**
There was this odd sense of satisfaction and pride in hearing that, almost as though I had made THE TERMINATOR rather than James Cameron. I feel like it brought my cousin and I closer as friends.
But maybe that's just a natural feeling of sharing anything that you love/are close to, and finding someone else who enjoys it. It's probably the whole basis for Browncoatism.
Rish T-001 Outfield
*I took it with me to college, and I remember one roommate (my first roommate, I suppose he would've been) freaking out that I owned an R-rated movie. He told me I should get rid of it, and made something of an ass of himself acting so pious, especially when I caught him watching scrambled porn on my television a little while later.
**Next week we'll watch TERMINATOR 2, and I'll ask him which he liked better. If he's like me, he'll prefer T1. If he's like you, it'll be the sequel. But I do hope it's not T3.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Story update
So, I finished my "Broken Mirror Story," with a couple of days to spare. I've spoken to a couple of other writers lately, and they're so productive, they could easily write another BMSE tale before April 30th.
Maybe I should too.
But regardless, I accomplished what I set out to do, and the tale ended up being 3606 words.* Of course, I think I'll take advantage of my lead on the deadline to go through and revise it, see if I can't get it down to 3500 words (or up to 3700, depending on my mood).
The problem is, it's not a terribly great story. We were doing it as a sort of contest, with the ones we liked the best getting podcast(ed), but I'm not certain mine's good enough to make the cut.
Of course, I could be overthinking this thing (as I so often do), and my story is a bit of alright.
What I know is that writing makes me the closest to being happy of anything I can think of. So I guess I ought to keep doing it.
Rish Outfield
*Which is kind of creepy, considering I had guessed the end product would be 3600 words.
Maybe I should too.
But regardless, I accomplished what I set out to do, and the tale ended up being 3606 words.* Of course, I think I'll take advantage of my lead on the deadline to go through and revise it, see if I can't get it down to 3500 words (or up to 3700, depending on my mood).
The problem is, it's not a terribly great story. We were doing it as a sort of contest, with the ones we liked the best getting podcast(ed), but I'm not certain mine's good enough to make the cut.
Of course, I could be overthinking this thing (as I so often do), and my story is a bit of alright.
What I know is that writing makes me the closest to being happy of anything I can think of. So I guess I ought to keep doing it.
Rish Outfield
*Which is kind of creepy, considering I had guessed the end product would be 3600 words.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Bea Arthur (1922-2009)
The second-best thing about the Star Wars Holiday Special has passed away.
Beatrice Arthur, the acerbic, mannish star of "The Golden Girls," "Maude," and your most deviant dreams, died today in Los Angeles. They originally said it was natural causes, but now they're saying it was cancer of some sort. She was eighty-six.
Look, the "Holiday Special" was an abomination, but I remember actually enjoying Arthur's song in the middle of it. Okay, maybe enjoy is too strong a word, but hey, it was less revolting than the other musical numbers, and was less destructive of my STAR WARS memories than Itchy, Mark Hamill with lipstick and eyeshadow on, the Special Editions, or Kitster.
She was an outspoken and intimidating woman, so it shouldn't have surprised me that, when I searched for a photo of her for today's blog, to find a painting of her wrestling a velociraptor.
I don't have any personal experiences with Ms. Arthur to share, I didn't watch her shows, and I never met the woman, so I can't say that I'm really in mourning right now. But hey, she entertained a lot of people and was a role model for a lot of middle-aged women in the Seventies.
Plus, Bea Arthur was the perfect punchline for so many jokes in the last couple decades. Guess it's gonna have to be Rosie from here on out.
Bea Outfield
Beatrice Arthur, the acerbic, mannish star of "The Golden Girls," "Maude," and your most deviant dreams, died today in Los Angeles. They originally said it was natural causes, but now they're saying it was cancer of some sort. She was eighty-six.
Look, the "Holiday Special" was an abomination, but I remember actually enjoying Arthur's song in the middle of it. Okay, maybe enjoy is too strong a word, but hey, it was less revolting than the other musical numbers, and was less destructive of my STAR WARS memories than Itchy, Mark Hamill with lipstick and eyeshadow on, the Special Editions, or Kitster.She was an outspoken and intimidating woman, so it shouldn't have surprised me that, when I searched for a photo of her for today's blog, to find a painting of her wrestling a velociraptor.
I don't have any personal experiences with Ms. Arthur to share, I didn't watch her shows, and I never met the woman, so I can't say that I'm really in mourning right now. But hey, she entertained a lot of people and was a role model for a lot of middle-aged women in the Seventies.
Plus, Bea Arthur was the perfect punchline for so many jokes in the last couple decades. Guess it's gonna have to be Rosie from here on out.
Bea Outfield
Friday, April 24, 2009
Broken Mirror Progress
So, I have until April 30th to finish my Broken Mirror Story. The subject this time around is SOMEONE ARRIVES IN TOWN AND DISCOVERS THAT EVERYONE IS EXACTLY THE SAME. I had three or four pretty alright ideas as to where that could go, and started writing on the two that seemed most promising.
One of them I have set aside, and am concentrating on the one I liked the best. I've spoken to other writers who like to use little meters to show people their story progress, so I thought I'd grab one (this one was at writertopia.com), to show where I'm at.
I stuck my work-in-progress in a word processor and wasn't surprised to see I'm at nine pages. I was surprised, however, to see that I'm only at three thousand words. I figured I'd be closing in on ten.
But ah well.
So, here's my meter:
According to that, I'm at 83%. Even if I only managed three more percent a day, I'd still make it by deadline. Not too shabby.
Of course, the same may not be said about the story itself.
Rish "Edmund Wells, the Famous Dutch Author" Outfield
One of them I have set aside, and am concentrating on the one I liked the best. I've spoken to other writers who like to use little meters to show people their story progress, so I thought I'd grab one (this one was at writertopia.com), to show where I'm at.
I stuck my work-in-progress in a word processor and wasn't surprised to see I'm at nine pages. I was surprised, however, to see that I'm only at three thousand words. I figured I'd be closing in on ten.
But ah well.
So, here's my meter:
According to that, I'm at 83%. Even if I only managed three more percent a day, I'd still make it by deadline. Not too shabby.
Of course, the same may not be said about the story itself.
Rish "Edmund Wells, the Famous Dutch Author" Outfield
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Say Uncle
My uncle who lives in Las Vegas came to visit this week. I've got an uncle who lives here in town, who I lived with until he got married and got his own house. I've complained about him before. So, this Vegas uncle, Len, is his older brother.
Anyway, the strangest thing happened yesterday--well, it's not actually the strangest thing, as Len was telling stories about his house being haunted and his daughter seeing faces reflected in second floor windows and going to a black mass and his wife seeing a man standing at the foot of their bed in the middle of the night--but Len was telling us stories, and he told this tale about something that happened to his little brother John when he was a teenager.
It was a traumatic event in his life, where John felt like he was totally screwed, and it ended up working out great in the end, but everyone was worried for a while. You know, one of those kinds of stories.
So, after John gets off work, we all got together and ate food and hung out with my mom (who is their older sister) and cousins and the many kids that people except me tend to have. And then John says, "That reminds me of something that happened to me when I was nineteen," he proceeds to tell us the exact same story (of something that happened over twenty years ago).
But what's interesting, really, is that the two stories were different, and Len's version was actually better, because he made John sound way more human in his tale. John was worried, John was nervous, John was crying, John didn't know what he was going to do. But in John's version, a bunch of people were worried, he knew folks were nervous, his family was crying, his friends didn't know what he should do . . . John, however, was a rock. And a superhero. And a benchmark of stability and confidence. And a god fresh down from Mount Olympus.
Hmmm. Now that I've written this, I'm wondering if I shouldn't have talked about Len's experiences with the occult, and demons, and hauntings throughout his life. I meant to chat about that with my cousin last night, but instead, we talked about time travel.*
I really ought to talk about my uncle Len, and his multiple encounters with the supernatural. Uncle John says that Len makes those stories up, my mom says that Len is spiritually hypersensitive, my uncle George says that that's all figments of his imagination, my uncle Ali says that it's aliens (it's always aliens with him), my uncle Blackie says "Where's the weed?"
I don't know what to think. All I know is that it's allergy season once again, and my world continues to revolve around me, so that's all that's important.
Rish Outfield
*Time travel DOES exist, folks. I know this because my cousin and I started talking about time travel at just after midnight, and when we looked at the clock, it was two-thirty.
Anyway, the strangest thing happened yesterday--well, it's not actually the strangest thing, as Len was telling stories about his house being haunted and his daughter seeing faces reflected in second floor windows and going to a black mass and his wife seeing a man standing at the foot of their bed in the middle of the night--but Len was telling us stories, and he told this tale about something that happened to his little brother John when he was a teenager.
It was a traumatic event in his life, where John felt like he was totally screwed, and it ended up working out great in the end, but everyone was worried for a while. You know, one of those kinds of stories.
So, after John gets off work, we all got together and ate food and hung out with my mom (who is their older sister) and cousins and the many kids that people except me tend to have. And then John says, "That reminds me of something that happened to me when I was nineteen," he proceeds to tell us the exact same story (of something that happened over twenty years ago).
But what's interesting, really, is that the two stories were different, and Len's version was actually better, because he made John sound way more human in his tale. John was worried, John was nervous, John was crying, John didn't know what he was going to do. But in John's version, a bunch of people were worried, he knew folks were nervous, his family was crying, his friends didn't know what he should do . . . John, however, was a rock. And a superhero. And a benchmark of stability and confidence. And a god fresh down from Mount Olympus.
Hmmm. Now that I've written this, I'm wondering if I shouldn't have talked about Len's experiences with the occult, and demons, and hauntings throughout his life. I meant to chat about that with my cousin last night, but instead, we talked about time travel.*
I really ought to talk about my uncle Len, and his multiple encounters with the supernatural. Uncle John says that Len makes those stories up, my mom says that Len is spiritually hypersensitive, my uncle George says that that's all figments of his imagination, my uncle Ali says that it's aliens (it's always aliens with him), my uncle Blackie says "Where's the weed?"
I don't know what to think. All I know is that it's allergy season once again, and my world continues to revolve around me, so that's all that's important.
Rish Outfield
*Time travel DOES exist, folks. I know this because my cousin and I started talking about time travel at just after midnight, and when we looked at the clock, it was two-thirty.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Not far from the tree
It's weird to have a nephew around all the time, to see him develop a little personality, to watch him experience the world for the first time.
The other day, I put a werewolf mask on and got down on my hands and knees and started crawling toward him. I wondered if he would laugh, if he would cry, if he would think it was a game . . . if he would know it was me . . . you know, are children instinctively afraid of monsters, or is that taught, like racism and a-holism?
So, the one year old was playing silently, when suddenly, he noticed me. He froze, and began to stammer, like he was about to cry (or me trying to ask a girl to the prom). Then he ran away.
A minute later, I put the mask back on, and this time, I guess he realised it was me, because he actually came over and grabbed its face. Good for him.
It's great taking care of this kid. Probably because I know it's temporary, I know most of the responsibility isn't mine, and he's only unplugged my computer once. I've got a couple of overpriced ALIENS toys on a bookshelf up high, and lately my sister's child reaches for them when he's in my room.
So, I thought I'd get them down and see what he'd do. I thought maybe he was under the impression that they were alive, and would be disappointed to find they were just plastic, but no, he played with them like they were the awesome toys that . . . well, they are.
I really do love that kid.
The other day, I put a werewolf mask on and got down on my hands and knees and started crawling toward him. I wondered if he would laugh, if he would cry, if he would think it was a game . . . if he would know it was me . . . you know, are children instinctively afraid of monsters, or is that taught, like racism and a-holism?So, the one year old was playing silently, when suddenly, he noticed me. He froze, and began to stammer, like he was about to cry (or me trying to ask a girl to the prom). Then he ran away.
A minute later, I put the mask back on, and this time, I guess he realised it was me, because he actually came over and grabbed its face. Good for him.
It's great taking care of this kid. Probably because I know it's temporary, I know most of the responsibility isn't mine, and he's only unplugged my computer once. I've got a couple of overpriced ALIENS toys on a bookshelf up high, and lately my sister's child reaches for them when he's in my room.So, I thought I'd get them down and see what he'd do. I thought maybe he was under the impression that they were alive, and would be disappointed to find they were just plastic, but no, he played with them like they were the awesome toys that . . . well, they are.
I really do love that kid.
Monday, April 13, 2009
follow-up post
Well, my buddy Jeff read my last post, and he told me mine was a flawed argument. The comparisons I made don't work. He didn't seem to think that the things I said, in the heat of an angry moment, were logical and well thought-out.
But I believe that that's part of an angry rant. Haven't you said things while beating your wife or abusing one of your children that, once you're all calmed down and the alcohol and/or meth is out of your system, that you didn't really mean, or wish you hadn't said?
No? You think they brought it upon themselves, and made you say them/do them? And now you're angry again thinking back on it?
Oh, he also said I should name names.
I guess I can do that.
But if I do, will people refuse to clap for me at my Oscar appearance?
But I believe that that's part of an angry rant. Haven't you said things while beating your wife or abusing one of your children that, once you're all calmed down and the alcohol and/or meth is out of your system, that you didn't really mean, or wish you hadn't said?
No? You think they brought it upon themselves, and made you say them/do them? And now you're angry again thinking back on it?
Oh, he also said I should name names.
I guess I can do that.
But if I do, will people refuse to clap for me at my Oscar appearance?
Saturday, April 11, 2009
particularly angry rant
I reviewed horror movies online for nearly a decade, and I gotta admit, it had two effects on me: first is that it made me look at horror films in a totally different way than I did before then. I'd often take into account the budget, the intended audience, the strength of the script rather than the actors or the direction, and what the filmmakers set out to do, rather than just "Was it good?" and "Was it scary?" and "Was it good?" again.
The other big change the HFC had on me was making me more confident in my tastes, and, frankly, way more arrogant. I've always been someone with esteem issues, and for the most part, I believe I totally suck, but after nearly a thousand horror flicks in nine years, I know what I like, and I don't give a damn what the other guy says.
Of course, it's possible that these two effects are not wholly positive, because there are plenty of people who can go to a movie and just put their brain on Sleep mode, and enjoy really bad films. There are also a lot of people who love movies I hate, and the world would be better off if I could just say, "Well, we must just see it differently," rather than, "Well, you're a moron, and you must have passed it on to your kids."
Case in point: this week, tyranist rented a horror flick for us to watch that a coworker recommended. And dudes and dudettes, it was a total trainwreck of a movie. I mean, it didn't work on any level. If I hadn't been reviewing it for the sit--er, if I hadn't been watching it with a friend (who paid for it) instead of seeing it alone, I would have turned it off in disgust.
And probably kicked the set in.
And the thing is--just as the HFC taught me--I could see a couple of moments that almost worked, where I could sort of feel where the director was going, or the script wasn't a huge misfire, and moments like that just make me wonder how movies get made. Not just movies like this one, but any movie.
I used to be an artist, or tried to be, so I was always sensitive about judging others too harshly (lest I be judged, right?), but lately, I've just stopped caring. A spade, my slightly-taller friend, is a spade, whether you call it a shovel or a trowel. And this was a terrible movie, so I proclaimed afterward, "No sir, these people should never be allowed to make a film again."
There's a filmmaking technique that's new to the '00s, that couldn't hate more if it strangled my mother to death in the Mills Creek Woods. And people around me think it's okay, or that it works in some cases, or the people who don't get it are too old-fashioned or plain too old. But go anally copulate with yourself, shit is shit, whether you have a fancy German word for it or not.
I just finished reading a book today, one that won awards when it was released, including Book of the Year, and is going to be made into a film now. And dude (-ette), it was simply torture to finish this damn book. "What's that smell?" Hulk Hogan asked. The book was written in a style that made me grit my teeth and scream profanities out my eyes, with a meandering narrative and a purposely vague, secretive prose, and I truly hated it. Hated it more than I've hated a book in a while.
If I were a studio exec, one charged with making this film, I'd make anything else, or demand the screenwriter change every detail so that nothing remained of the book (including the title). Or better yet, I'd just skip town, consuming as many drugs as I could possibly find, 'cause a film adaptation of that book won't make a dime.
It reminded me of a test screening I once went to for a horror flick called LOST SOULS. I sat through this thing, simply flabbergasted--when I wasn't valiantly struggling to keep my head up and aimed at the screen--that a movie with a pretty darn good premise (a guy is told, when he comes of age, that he is the Antichrist, and as a being of pure evil, he has no choice but to usher in the end of the world) could be turned into such a bland, pointless, boring, and unscary movie. I don't know how they did it.
Well, with this gorram book, I feel the same way. Apparently, this author is a good one, with more awards under his belt than I have character defects, and the premise--at least the one buried beneath all the misdirection and lollygagging--is pretty interesting. HOW does one choose to write a Science Fiction book and ignore the Science Fiction? It would be like J.K. Rowling writing a Harry Potter book where he goes to Hogwarts, then takes classes like Chemistry and French and Algebra, and we read about him studying and practicing conjugation by himself in his room all the time. Or better yet, like George Lucas making a STAR WARS movie that's two hours of Luke Skywalker fixing mechanisms to collect moisture out of the desert.
A book like this doesn't get made by accident (though I have no clue how a devil/apocalypse/horror movie with no scares, tension, or drama gets made): the author had to have decided that he would focus on mundane things about life, skipping around the day-to-day existence of these characters without anything out of the ordinary happening (or if it did, mention it in the past tense or just write "but more on that later" again and again), and only commenting "Hey, this was an alternate reality of some sort" at the end of the novel, "Not that we bothered to fill you in." That was a conscious choice.*
As an exercise, I could write a zombie holocaust story about a guy who rents both the LETHAL WEAPON and DIE HARD series and sits in his basement and watches them all while eating pretzels, ignoring the ringing phone and the screams of pain and terror outside, while Hell literally overflows like a backed-up toilet just beyond his basement door. But no, that would have to be more entertaining than the book I just finished, since there are cool moments in all those Joel Silver movies.
Hey, I know that everybody has their taste. There are folks out there who line up to eat those little cold grey octopuses at that Chinese Buffet we used to go to in Culver City. There are people who use "octopi" instead of "octopuses," and I should learn to let them feel what they feel. After all, I write stories all the time, or recommend movies, and people don't like them. I started reading "The Time Traveler's Wife" last week, and though I'm really digging it, there have to be people out there who proclaim it poop.
But there have to be things that simply are. If a six year old draws a rectangle with crayon on a page, and proclaims it a circle, I can't get why a parent would think that was fine (though my uncle would probably do just that). And let's say the same six year old draws a rectangle with crayon on a page a decade later, and announces that it's a sphere . . . well, he's just wrong, regardless of how you look at the page. Right?
I guess I wasted a few minutes typing this when I could've been working on my next story that no one will ever publish. Read, I meant no one will ever read. But I felt strongly about this awful book and awful movie, and what is a blog but an online journal--a chance to share your thoughts and feelings and experiences and get fired by a Sony lawyer for writing up?
I suppose I should be happy I can still feel strongly about things. That I can find that recurring "bitch please" character on SNL as unfunny as an old woman with testicular cancer. One would think, leading as empty a life as mine, that all the feeling would have dried up years ago.
So, there's a bright side, isn't there?
Rish "Miss Congeniality" Outfield
*And somebody somewhere bought it. And sold it. And people embraced it. And gave it awards. And optioned it for a movie.
The other big change the HFC had on me was making me more confident in my tastes, and, frankly, way more arrogant. I've always been someone with esteem issues, and for the most part, I believe I totally suck, but after nearly a thousand horror flicks in nine years, I know what I like, and I don't give a damn what the other guy says.
Of course, it's possible that these two effects are not wholly positive, because there are plenty of people who can go to a movie and just put their brain on Sleep mode, and enjoy really bad films. There are also a lot of people who love movies I hate, and the world would be better off if I could just say, "Well, we must just see it differently," rather than, "Well, you're a moron, and you must have passed it on to your kids."
Case in point: this week, tyranist rented a horror flick for us to watch that a coworker recommended. And dudes and dudettes, it was a total trainwreck of a movie. I mean, it didn't work on any level. If I hadn't been reviewing it for the sit--er, if I hadn't been watching it with a friend (who paid for it) instead of seeing it alone, I would have turned it off in disgust.
And probably kicked the set in.
And the thing is--just as the HFC taught me--I could see a couple of moments that almost worked, where I could sort of feel where the director was going, or the script wasn't a huge misfire, and moments like that just make me wonder how movies get made. Not just movies like this one, but any movie.
I used to be an artist, or tried to be, so I was always sensitive about judging others too harshly (lest I be judged, right?), but lately, I've just stopped caring. A spade, my slightly-taller friend, is a spade, whether you call it a shovel or a trowel. And this was a terrible movie, so I proclaimed afterward, "No sir, these people should never be allowed to make a film again."
There's a filmmaking technique that's new to the '00s, that couldn't hate more if it strangled my mother to death in the Mills Creek Woods. And people around me think it's okay, or that it works in some cases, or the people who don't get it are too old-fashioned or plain too old. But go anally copulate with yourself, shit is shit, whether you have a fancy German word for it or not.
I just finished reading a book today, one that won awards when it was released, including Book of the Year, and is going to be made into a film now. And dude (-ette), it was simply torture to finish this damn book. "What's that smell?" Hulk Hogan asked. The book was written in a style that made me grit my teeth and scream profanities out my eyes, with a meandering narrative and a purposely vague, secretive prose, and I truly hated it. Hated it more than I've hated a book in a while.
If I were a studio exec, one charged with making this film, I'd make anything else, or demand the screenwriter change every detail so that nothing remained of the book (including the title). Or better yet, I'd just skip town, consuming as many drugs as I could possibly find, 'cause a film adaptation of that book won't make a dime.
It reminded me of a test screening I once went to for a horror flick called LOST SOULS. I sat through this thing, simply flabbergasted--when I wasn't valiantly struggling to keep my head up and aimed at the screen--that a movie with a pretty darn good premise (a guy is told, when he comes of age, that he is the Antichrist, and as a being of pure evil, he has no choice but to usher in the end of the world) could be turned into such a bland, pointless, boring, and unscary movie. I don't know how they did it.
Well, with this gorram book, I feel the same way. Apparently, this author is a good one, with more awards under his belt than I have character defects, and the premise--at least the one buried beneath all the misdirection and lollygagging--is pretty interesting. HOW does one choose to write a Science Fiction book and ignore the Science Fiction? It would be like J.K. Rowling writing a Harry Potter book where he goes to Hogwarts, then takes classes like Chemistry and French and Algebra, and we read about him studying and practicing conjugation by himself in his room all the time. Or better yet, like George Lucas making a STAR WARS movie that's two hours of Luke Skywalker fixing mechanisms to collect moisture out of the desert.
A book like this doesn't get made by accident (though I have no clue how a devil/apocalypse/horror movie with no scares, tension, or drama gets made): the author had to have decided that he would focus on mundane things about life, skipping around the day-to-day existence of these characters without anything out of the ordinary happening (or if it did, mention it in the past tense or just write "but more on that later" again and again), and only commenting "Hey, this was an alternate reality of some sort" at the end of the novel, "Not that we bothered to fill you in." That was a conscious choice.*
As an exercise, I could write a zombie holocaust story about a guy who rents both the LETHAL WEAPON and DIE HARD series and sits in his basement and watches them all while eating pretzels, ignoring the ringing phone and the screams of pain and terror outside, while Hell literally overflows like a backed-up toilet just beyond his basement door. But no, that would have to be more entertaining than the book I just finished, since there are cool moments in all those Joel Silver movies.
Hey, I know that everybody has their taste. There are folks out there who line up to eat those little cold grey octopuses at that Chinese Buffet we used to go to in Culver City. There are people who use "octopi" instead of "octopuses," and I should learn to let them feel what they feel. After all, I write stories all the time, or recommend movies, and people don't like them. I started reading "The Time Traveler's Wife" last week, and though I'm really digging it, there have to be people out there who proclaim it poop.
But there have to be things that simply are. If a six year old draws a rectangle with crayon on a page, and proclaims it a circle, I can't get why a parent would think that was fine (though my uncle would probably do just that). And let's say the same six year old draws a rectangle with crayon on a page a decade later, and announces that it's a sphere . . . well, he's just wrong, regardless of how you look at the page. Right?
I guess I wasted a few minutes typing this when I could've been working on my next story that no one will ever publish. Read, I meant no one will ever read. But I felt strongly about this awful book and awful movie, and what is a blog but an online journal--a chance to share your thoughts and feelings and experiences and get fired by a Sony lawyer for writing up?
I suppose I should be happy I can still feel strongly about things. That I can find that recurring "bitch please" character on SNL as unfunny as an old woman with testicular cancer. One would think, leading as empty a life as mine, that all the feeling would have dried up years ago.
So, there's a bright side, isn't there?
Rish "Miss Congeniality" Outfield
*And somebody somewhere bought it. And sold it. And people embraced it. And gave it awards. And optioned it for a movie.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Stupid Thing of the Week
My cousin sent me this picture today. I think he thought it would amuse me.
Instead, the thought of one of his children inflating this thing seriously creeped me out.
Fastball Special, anyone?
Instead, the thought of one of his children inflating this thing seriously creeped me out.
Fastball Special, anyone?
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Dollhousebreaking
I was asked the other day if I'd stopped watching "Dollhouse," since Big and I haven't talked about it on our podcast in a while. And the guy referred to it as "Dullhouse."
At first, this bothered me, because I want Joss Whedon shows to succeed, I watch it every week, and the show isn't dull.
But he did have a point in that we don't talk about the show much anymore. And even though I promised myself I'd blog every episode, I care less and less each week.
About the show, or about blogging about the show?
Yes.
It's not a bad show, no, but since the singer bodyguard episode, I haven't been really grabbed by "Dollhouse," and in watching the episode tonight, which didn't really have anything wrong with it, per se, I realised that, unlike how I felt six months ago, when the show premiered, or even a month back, I'm not going to cry a river if it's canceled.
I lived in fear every week for the first six episodes that I'd check and see the show had been axed. But now that seven have aired, I am willing to accept whatever happens, whether it's renewed or not.
That being said, I fully believe that the last three episodes of the first season of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," are the best three episodes of its first season. Had I seen "Nightmares" or "Prophesy Girl" back in 1997, I think I might have become a fan a decade earlier than I did.
And if there are people who love "Dollhouse" for the show's sake, then I'd hate for them to lose something they love. I understand that much.
So, we watched a "Sarah Connor" that felt, to tyranist and me, like a season finale, even though there's one more episode left. They killed one of the supporting characters last week in a somewhat abrupt way, and this week, they killed one of the main characters in a totally unceremonious way, much like Joss Whedon has done on "Buffy" and in SERENITY.
I don't know if that show will be renewed for another season. We were talking about TERMINATOR 4 coming out this summer, and how if FOX is smart, they'll cash in on all the free publicity and new viewers that film might send their way, so it could come back. Neither show gets very good ratings, though.
So, the episode that night was called "A Spy In the House of Love," and it was written by one Andrew Chambliss (a name I do not recognise). In it, we find out who the mole in the Dollhouse organisation is.
They find evidence that someone is messing with the Actives and/or trying to take it down, and since Adelle DeWitt is out, Head of Security Dominic (who I always refer to as tyranist's brother) is in charge of finding out who it is. That's the A-story. Meanwhile, Victor gets sent out to romance "Miss Lonelyhearts," an old broad he often wines and dines. That's the B-story.
C-story is that Paul Ballard and (sleeping Active) Mellie are continuing to romance one another, but suddenly, she gets taken over by a subprogram and delivers another message from the Dollhouse. He is absolutely floored to find out she's a "Doll," and it makes him look at her and their relationship totally differently, even though she comes back to herself with no knowledge that she is not who she says she is. This was interesting stuff.
This was one of those shows that starts with the end first and then goes "x hours earlier," like manymanymany shows nowadays do, so we know the mole is going to be caught from the very beginning. But who will it be? Dominic puts Sierra in charge of the investigation, making her up to look like an Asian lady at the NSA, and sending her in to find their secret files on the Dollhouse.
Topher is going out of his mind, because Dominic is pointing fingers at everyone, and Echo offers to help him in the investigation. I guess she knows that she is a Doll and can have talents and knowledge loaded into her head. So Topher does so, and she helps ferret out the spy.
I don't really know why, but I found the B- and C-plots to be more interesting than the A-, and particularly loved it when Miss Lonelyhearts winds up being Adelle herself, who has Victor visit her with a suave British accent at her home from time to time. She confides in him the nature of what she does in the Dollhouse and how she feels doing it, and when Victor comments on Adelle's sad, pathetic clients, she remarks at how ironic that is. In my favourite moment in the show, he chuckles at how people always misunderstand what ironic means, just like she did.
Well, Sierra finds the evidence of who the mole is, and everything is fine . . . at least until Echo reveals that information to be false, planted by Dominic, since he was the mole all along. Well, he is captured, and they take him to the Attic, which is a horrible-sounding place we've not yet seen. Apparently, they'll wipe his memory and stick him in some kind of stasis coffin, only to be brought out, brainwashed, if ever they have use for him again. The end.
The episode was a pretty good one, with the usual number of twists and turns, and it would be a long time before I'd see the show again. Not that this really has anything to do with that, but there was a big snowstorm during that day and night, designed specifically to ruin April.
On the way home from watching this episode at tyranist's house, I was in a car accident. I wasn't going very fast, and it was late enough at night that nobody else crashed into me when my car spun out of control and ended up facing the wrong way on the freeway. Luckily, only the back of my car was smashed in, so I was able to start up the engine again and get turned around and drive home alright (even though, I kid you not, the goddamn car spun out of control twice more before I got home, BOTH times also facing the wrong way of traffic). This is the sort of thing that makes me want to pack up my things and head to California right this minute.
Except that now I have to spend my move-back-to-L.A. money on fixing my car, or, if they decide it's not worth fixing, get a new car. Ah well.
At first, this bothered me, because I want Joss Whedon shows to succeed, I watch it every week, and the show isn't dull.
But he did have a point in that we don't talk about the show much anymore. And even though I promised myself I'd blog every episode, I care less and less each week.
About the show, or about blogging about the show?
Yes.
It's not a bad show, no, but since the singer bodyguard episode, I haven't been really grabbed by "Dollhouse," and in watching the episode tonight, which didn't really have anything wrong with it, per se, I realised that, unlike how I felt six months ago, when the show premiered, or even a month back, I'm not going to cry a river if it's canceled.
I lived in fear every week for the first six episodes that I'd check and see the show had been axed. But now that seven have aired, I am willing to accept whatever happens, whether it's renewed or not.
That being said, I fully believe that the last three episodes of the first season of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," are the best three episodes of its first season. Had I seen "Nightmares" or "Prophesy Girl" back in 1997, I think I might have become a fan a decade earlier than I did.
And if there are people who love "Dollhouse" for the show's sake, then I'd hate for them to lose something they love. I understand that much.
So, we watched a "Sarah Connor" that felt, to tyranist and me, like a season finale, even though there's one more episode left. They killed one of the supporting characters last week in a somewhat abrupt way, and this week, they killed one of the main characters in a totally unceremonious way, much like Joss Whedon has done on "Buffy" and in SERENITY.
I don't know if that show will be renewed for another season. We were talking about TERMINATOR 4 coming out this summer, and how if FOX is smart, they'll cash in on all the free publicity and new viewers that film might send their way, so it could come back. Neither show gets very good ratings, though.
So, the episode that night was called "A Spy In the House of Love," and it was written by one Andrew Chambliss (a name I do not recognise). In it, we find out who the mole in the Dollhouse organisation is.
They find evidence that someone is messing with the Actives and/or trying to take it down, and since Adelle DeWitt is out, Head of Security Dominic (who I always refer to as tyranist's brother) is in charge of finding out who it is. That's the A-story. Meanwhile, Victor gets sent out to romance "Miss Lonelyhearts," an old broad he often wines and dines. That's the B-story.
C-story is that Paul Ballard and (sleeping Active) Mellie are continuing to romance one another, but suddenly, she gets taken over by a subprogram and delivers another message from the Dollhouse. He is absolutely floored to find out she's a "Doll," and it makes him look at her and their relationship totally differently, even though she comes back to herself with no knowledge that she is not who she says she is. This was interesting stuff.
This was one of those shows that starts with the end first and then goes "x hours earlier," like manymanymany shows nowadays do, so we know the mole is going to be caught from the very beginning. But who will it be? Dominic puts Sierra in charge of the investigation, making her up to look like an Asian lady at the NSA, and sending her in to find their secret files on the Dollhouse.
Topher is going out of his mind, because Dominic is pointing fingers at everyone, and Echo offers to help him in the investigation. I guess she knows that she is a Doll and can have talents and knowledge loaded into her head. So Topher does so, and she helps ferret out the spy.
I don't really know why, but I found the B- and C-plots to be more interesting than the A-, and particularly loved it when Miss Lonelyhearts winds up being Adelle herself, who has Victor visit her with a suave British accent at her home from time to time. She confides in him the nature of what she does in the Dollhouse and how she feels doing it, and when Victor comments on Adelle's sad, pathetic clients, she remarks at how ironic that is. In my favourite moment in the show, he chuckles at how people always misunderstand what ironic means, just like she did.
Well, Sierra finds the evidence of who the mole is, and everything is fine . . . at least until Echo reveals that information to be false, planted by Dominic, since he was the mole all along. Well, he is captured, and they take him to the Attic, which is a horrible-sounding place we've not yet seen. Apparently, they'll wipe his memory and stick him in some kind of stasis coffin, only to be brought out, brainwashed, if ever they have use for him again. The end.
The episode was a pretty good one, with the usual number of twists and turns, and it would be a long time before I'd see the show again. Not that this really has anything to do with that, but there was a big snowstorm during that day and night, designed specifically to ruin April.
On the way home from watching this episode at tyranist's house, I was in a car accident. I wasn't going very fast, and it was late enough at night that nobody else crashed into me when my car spun out of control and ended up facing the wrong way on the freeway. Luckily, only the back of my car was smashed in, so I was able to start up the engine again and get turned around and drive home alright (even though, I kid you not, the goddamn car spun out of control twice more before I got home, BOTH times also facing the wrong way of traffic). This is the sort of thing that makes me want to pack up my things and head to California right this minute.
Except that now I have to spend my move-back-to-L.A. money on fixing my car, or, if they decide it's not worth fixing, get a new car. Ah well.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Campus Dollhouse
So, tyranist and I have watched the last two episodes of "Dollhouse," and I guess I'll blog about them, though I have little to say.
First up was "Echoes," not to be confused with "Echo," which never aired. It was written by Elizabeth Craft & Sarah Fain, and had Echo back with the motorcycle dude from the teaser of the first episode. Meanwhile, there was a death (a mysterious death, though I probably don't need to use the word "mysterious" on a show like . . . well, any show, really) on a college campus, and the Dollhouse team are brought in to get to the bottom of it. There was some kind of psychotropic drug released into the atmosphere, and everyone who is exposed to it (looks like it's passed from person to person by touch) goes a little bit loopy.
Echo sees what's happening on a news report, and feels compelled to return to the campus, even though she doesn't know why. We learn why: Echo, when she was Caroline, was responsible for a mishap there, because of the animal testing that was going on in one of the labs. Caroline, it would seem, was a bit of an activist* and all concerned about naughty corporations and secret experiments and poor cuddly animals. She was also responsible for the release of rage-infected monkeys in the U.K. not long before.
Anyway, Echo goes to the campus, and because she's acting strange, is taken to where the infected folks are. One of them is a young black dude who was there when the mysterious death occurred--a med student-type had a vial of something, then started freaking out, and smashed his head against a window until the credits started--and he decides to help Echo get to the lab where she is impelled to go.
Along the way, she begins to remember what happened to Caroline in the same place. Meanwhile, other people are being affected by the drug, and Victor and Sierra start acting strange, and Topher and Adelle act all stoned and relaxed.
In the end, it is revealed that the friendly black student with Echo is the one who got the guy in the teaser killed, and he's forced to attack Echo to protect his secret. The tables are turned on him, though, and Echo, trippingly remembering getting her boyfriend killed on the campus, subdues him until he can be taken away.
Caroline, instead of any prosecution for her actions, was given the choice to become an Active, which she accepted. The young black student (who I should have learned the name of, but didn't) is given the same choice. I thought that was pretty cool.
This episode was a pretty good one. I don't really have a problem with it, but nothing is standing out for me now. Oh wait, Eliza looked real good in her little skirt and leggings. So there's that.
Sometimes, I swear I see her struggling with the material (in the script, not on her body). It's something in her posture or what her hands do that tells me, "She's not quite able to pull this off." I wonder if anyone else has noticed that.**
I'm starting to like Topher less and less, but I can't really say why.
More on that later. Or maybe never.
The most recent episode was called "Needs," and it was written by Tracy Bellomo.
And basically, we see that a bunch of technical problems are happening at the Dollhouse--the computers are on the fritz, the lights are turning on and off, doors that should be locked are unlocking, and FOX is allowing "American Idol" to run long so it cuts off part of "Fringe."
Speaking of problems, each of our main Actives are, conveniently enough, the ones who are "glitching" the most. So, Adelle and Dr. Saunders and company come up with a plan to give them what they yearn for, and see if it fixes them. Actually, this isn't revealed until the very end of the episode. For the bulk of it, we're to believe that something went wrong, and the five Actives that we're focusing on: Echo, Victor, Sierra, November, and a new guy are awakened in a not entirely blank state.
They reason among themselves that they've been brought there against their will and that they have to play along like the rest of the Dolls, and see if they're able to get out of there.
Eventually, they not only get out of the Dollhouse, but out of the building and onto the streets. November remembers she has a daughter and wants to see her. Sierra remembers the face and name of a man who hurt her, and wants to go there to confront him. Victor just wants to go where Sierra goes. And Echo, well, she's not content to leave, but wants to free all the others who are being held captive in the building.
The whole point is that Dr. Saunders believes these Actives are acting up because they have unfinished business, and that, if they achieve closure on that, they'll normalise. So, when November finds the grave of the child she used to have, she falls asleep. Sierra faces this man who mistreated her (and he's aware of her being an Active, and even seems to have been responsible for her going to the Dollhouse), and Victor sweeps her away from there, proclaiming his love for her. They kiss, and both fall asleep.
Echo beats a couple people up, which is her way, and rounds up the blank Actives from the Dollhouse (tyranist and I have wondered if there's only twenty-six of them, but she either rescues all of them, or there's a lot more than twenty-six), and marches them right out of there. As soon as she reaches the light of day, she falls asleep too. They had all been programmed to go unconscious as soon as they got that closure they needed (Victor's was to get the girl). We further find out that, had Saunders not suggested this solution, the other option was to send these four to the Attic (which is where bad Actives go when they die). The end.
This was another good episode. It did that Joss Whedon where we're led to believe one thing, then, via flashback, we find we only got half of the conversation and were tricked (though I didn't enjoy it as much as the other two times he's done it it).
Originally, this was two posts, neither of which talked about the plot. I just wrote up my thoughts about the show on each, including my feelings about its impending cancellation. These two are so long in coming that a third episode has since aired, so I think I'll just stop here and include that other stuff in the next post.
Be well,
Rish Outfield
*Which is similar to Active, I guess, though it has no relevance.
**I've heard people call her a bad actress, but everybody who knows nothing about acting has called everybody a bad actor, from Mark Hamill to Al Pacino, so who knows?
First up was "Echoes," not to be confused with "Echo," which never aired. It was written by Elizabeth Craft & Sarah Fain, and had Echo back with the motorcycle dude from the teaser of the first episode. Meanwhile, there was a death (a mysterious death, though I probably don't need to use the word "mysterious" on a show like . . . well, any show, really) on a college campus, and the Dollhouse team are brought in to get to the bottom of it. There was some kind of psychotropic drug released into the atmosphere, and everyone who is exposed to it (looks like it's passed from person to person by touch) goes a little bit loopy.
Echo sees what's happening on a news report, and feels compelled to return to the campus, even though she doesn't know why. We learn why: Echo, when she was Caroline, was responsible for a mishap there, because of the animal testing that was going on in one of the labs. Caroline, it would seem, was a bit of an activist* and all concerned about naughty corporations and secret experiments and poor cuddly animals. She was also responsible for the release of rage-infected monkeys in the U.K. not long before.
Anyway, Echo goes to the campus, and because she's acting strange, is taken to where the infected folks are. One of them is a young black dude who was there when the mysterious death occurred--a med student-type had a vial of something, then started freaking out, and smashed his head against a window until the credits started--and he decides to help Echo get to the lab where she is impelled to go.
Along the way, she begins to remember what happened to Caroline in the same place. Meanwhile, other people are being affected by the drug, and Victor and Sierra start acting strange, and Topher and Adelle act all stoned and relaxed.
In the end, it is revealed that the friendly black student with Echo is the one who got the guy in the teaser killed, and he's forced to attack Echo to protect his secret. The tables are turned on him, though, and Echo, trippingly remembering getting her boyfriend killed on the campus, subdues him until he can be taken away.
Caroline, instead of any prosecution for her actions, was given the choice to become an Active, which she accepted. The young black student (who I should have learned the name of, but didn't) is given the same choice. I thought that was pretty cool.
This episode was a pretty good one. I don't really have a problem with it, but nothing is standing out for me now. Oh wait, Eliza looked real good in her little skirt and leggings. So there's that.
Sometimes, I swear I see her struggling with the material (in the script, not on her body). It's something in her posture or what her hands do that tells me, "She's not quite able to pull this off." I wonder if anyone else has noticed that.**
I'm starting to like Topher less and less, but I can't really say why.
More on that later. Or maybe never.
The most recent episode was called "Needs," and it was written by Tracy Bellomo.
And basically, we see that a bunch of technical problems are happening at the Dollhouse--the computers are on the fritz, the lights are turning on and off, doors that should be locked are unlocking, and FOX is allowing "American Idol" to run long so it cuts off part of "Fringe."
Speaking of problems, each of our main Actives are, conveniently enough, the ones who are "glitching" the most. So, Adelle and Dr. Saunders and company come up with a plan to give them what they yearn for, and see if it fixes them. Actually, this isn't revealed until the very end of the episode. For the bulk of it, we're to believe that something went wrong, and the five Actives that we're focusing on: Echo, Victor, Sierra, November, and a new guy are awakened in a not entirely blank state.
They reason among themselves that they've been brought there against their will and that they have to play along like the rest of the Dolls, and see if they're able to get out of there.
Eventually, they not only get out of the Dollhouse, but out of the building and onto the streets. November remembers she has a daughter and wants to see her. Sierra remembers the face and name of a man who hurt her, and wants to go there to confront him. Victor just wants to go where Sierra goes. And Echo, well, she's not content to leave, but wants to free all the others who are being held captive in the building.
The whole point is that Dr. Saunders believes these Actives are acting up because they have unfinished business, and that, if they achieve closure on that, they'll normalise. So, when November finds the grave of the child she used to have, she falls asleep. Sierra faces this man who mistreated her (and he's aware of her being an Active, and even seems to have been responsible for her going to the Dollhouse), and Victor sweeps her away from there, proclaiming his love for her. They kiss, and both fall asleep.
Echo beats a couple people up, which is her way, and rounds up the blank Actives from the Dollhouse (tyranist and I have wondered if there's only twenty-six of them, but she either rescues all of them, or there's a lot more than twenty-six), and marches them right out of there. As soon as she reaches the light of day, she falls asleep too. They had all been programmed to go unconscious as soon as they got that closure they needed (Victor's was to get the girl). We further find out that, had Saunders not suggested this solution, the other option was to send these four to the Attic (which is where bad Actives go when they die). The end.
This was another good episode. It did that Joss Whedon where we're led to believe one thing, then, via flashback, we find we only got half of the conversation and were tricked (though I didn't enjoy it as much as the other two times he's done it it).
Originally, this was two posts, neither of which talked about the plot. I just wrote up my thoughts about the show on each, including my feelings about its impending cancellation. These two are so long in coming that a third episode has since aired, so I think I'll just stop here and include that other stuff in the next post.
Be well,
Rish Outfield
*Which is similar to Active, I guess, though it has no relevance.
**I've heard people call her a bad actress, but everybody who knows nothing about acting has called everybody a bad actor, from Mark Hamill to Al Pacino, so who knows?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)