Monthly Archives: July 2007

The Wizard

Gene Wolfe is an author whose work tends to exist right at the outer limit of what I can wrap my mind around. I swim through his novels, working to keep my head above water the whole time, and the nature of that effort leaves me with a limited perspective of the story’s surface from moment to moment. Not only that, but I’m aware of unplumbed depths of added meaning in a vague, unformed way; I guess I’m aware of it only to the extent that I can tell there’s a whole lot more happening that I’m not aware of. Possibly this all sounds unpleasant, and maybe it would be except for three things. The parts of the story I can grasp (a sizable amount of plot, bits and pieces of characterization, shadows of literary influences, and the faintest impressions of theme) have always been very entertaining; the prose is good enough to make mention of; and the parts of the story I can’t grasp exercise my reading brain. I’ll read the Book of the New Sun sometime again, and I’ll have benefited by that. Also, the Malazan series. (Which I’m sufficiently behind on now that I’ll probably need to start over. Oh, well.) Umberto Eco does this to me as well, but without quite as much enjoyability on the front end. I guess my point is that being challenged is cool.

However, it makes for difficult reviewing, because I don’t like to toss plot elements willy-nilly, and at the same time I have little else to reference right now. When I read The Knight last year, I indicated this same difficulty. Reading The Wizard was akin to leaving the public pool and taking a dip in the ocean. Which is ironic when you consider that water imagery was rife in the former volume. …and fire imagery as well. Whereas this one was much more about earth and air. So, hey, look at that! I figured something out right here in the middle of typing. Which would be cooler if I could attach some direct relevance to the revelation. But it definitely proves my point about the mind-exercise. Anyway, I’m going to see about minimizing the self-satisfaction and getting back to the review, now. I trust this will be taken kindly by all six of my readers.

Sir Able’s continuing adventures in Mythgarthr and its surrounding realities have expanded from faeries, knights, and dragons to include giants, angels, unicorns, Arthuriana, and the Norse pantheon. As difficult to integrate into my understanding of the world as these were, the (at first glance) simple plot was harder still. The first half of the book is the story not of Able, but of his companion squires and knights. The emerging lesson of the section seems to be that we are not what people call us; we are what we are, whether people call us such or not. But people will tend to call us what we are. For example, Able is a knight because he determined to be so and lived his life that way, not because anyone dubbed him or acknowledged him. Despite that from his first appearance in the book he refuses to use any powers , Able is called a wizard now by all who spend time with him because his inner reality shines through. These examples together with a spoiler from later in the book make me pretty confident that this sometimes struggle and sometimes congruence between what is and what is perceived is another important theme of the story. But again, just because I can see it doesn’t really mean that I’ve yet been able to plumb its depths and understand the buried point to it. Which, amusingly, is kind of a mirror of the theme right there.

I said it at the beginning, and I’ll say it again. Hard books are cool. Which is not an excuse for the incomprehensible mess of the previous paragraph, but it is an explanation of sorts. (Seriously. I’ve edited a lot, and well, to get it to what you see now. The original would have made you weep with frustration.) So, yeah, they’re cool, but they’re also hard. Thus, by executive decree, it’s going to be all graphic novels from now until Harry Potter.

Live Free or Die Hard

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MV5BNDQxMDE1OTg4NV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMTMzOTQzMw@@._V1__SX1537_SY747_Hard to believe, but true: once upon a time, the modern action blockbuster didn’t exist. Armageddon? Deep Impact? The Rock? Time was, those movies didn’t get made. Sure, Star Wars and Indiana Jones were contributing factors, but they were more about the summer blockbuster. As far as the action version, you have to go back to Christmas of 1988. There’s this wise-cracking cop in an office building full of terrorists, and stuff that blows up, and Beethoven’s Ninth playing. And sure, that’s yawn-worthy now, but the writing and the acting for Die Hard still stand up, despite decades of mostly pale imitators. (Also, it’s the first time I was aware of surround sound in theaters.) And then it had a couple of sequels. Which were fine and all, with the explosions and the wisecracking, but they never really stood out to me in the same way.

Now, however… here’s the best way I can explain Live Free or Die Hard. The people who wrote it and filmed it were people who also think Die Hard was the definitive action movie, and they wanted to make a sequel worthy of the name. Sure, the action is over the top. It’s supposed to be, it’s an action blockbuster. But it’s not over the top in such a way that you find yourself wondering how we’re supposed to believe anyone could ever do that stuff. (Like, say, Rambo sequels.) There’s definitely one sequence that is over the top; I rolled my eyes pretty hard. But John McClane is never superhuman. He’s tough, and he’s luckier than his fair share, but mostly he’s just taking his only option and running with it instead of giving up, and that guy? That guy is pretty much what heroes are.

Also, the plot is more of a sequel to the original than either of the other sequels. I know that the third one was specifically about a guy who wanted revenge for Alan Rickman’s untimely demise. Even still, the fourth one is a much better sequel, plot-wise as well as thematically. Now that everyone in the country who isn’t me has seen the Transformers more times than you can shake a pointed stick at, I say go see Die Hard 4. Unless you didn’t like the original for some reason? That would be weird, but you won’t like this one either, in that unlikely case. Otherwise, you should be golden.

And I’ll go contritely see the Transformers. Because at this point, I’m kind of an embarrassment over here.

Disturbia

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MV5BMTMyNTIxOTQ3M15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMjU2NzAzMw@@._V1__SX1217_SY911_So, Rear Window, right? One of those classic Hitchcock horror movies that scared people who lived in the black-and-white world, because it was entirely too plausible for their tastes, unlike such fare as Them! or It Came from Outer Space. Which, okay, possibly these people have a point, I guess. But also because the writing and direction were so wonderfully tense, about which the people definitely had a point.

Back in the spring, along came imitator Disturbia. Troubled teen Shia LaBeouf (soon to be famous for his role in Transformers, natch) is under house arrest. See, his dad died, right?, so he’s been having a bad year, and then his Spanish teacher, well, provoked him. Probably unintentionally, but we’ll never really know since his motivations are not explored. That’s okay, though. It’s a pretty minor plot point, except for the part where it sets up the rest of the film. Because now Shia has an ankle bracelet that keeps him confined to his property. This is a bummer, because his XBox account got canceled by his mom, a hot girl just moved in next door, neighborhood kids are tormenting him and then running away, and also because the guy in a house behind him seems to fit the information being provided in the media as a serial killer from Austin who, if it’s the same guy, has already kidnapped at least one person locally. All in all, it’s not the best summer to be trapped at home.

On the bright side, at least the girl came over to visit. But really, that just results in her (along with Shia’s mom and his best friend) getting entangled in the paranoia surrounding the neighbor. And that’s what makes the movie work. Whether he did or didn’t serial-kill all those girls is barely the point. It’s all that voyeuristic paranoia and how it affects people and what they decide to do about it. Because, up until the point where you take a sledgehammer to the interior walls and a shovel to the basement and back yard, he’s still Schrödinger’s serial killer, and it’s probably not cool to send people to tail him while other people break into his car and steal his garage door code. (Or, for that matter, take a sledgehammer/shovel to his property.) So, that’s good moralistic tension to drive a movie with. And then on top of that, I think it has a win over Rear Window, in that the hero of that movie was wheelchair-bound. Shia, on the other hand, is only bound by the law. In a very real sense, his imprisonment is by choice; he can cross that invisible line at any moment and take things into his own hands. But only if he’s willing to face the consequences of that action. That’s just a lot better piece of character tension than ‘if only I could get down these stairs; but I can’t!’

Simply by virtue of being a worthy successor to Rear Window in the tension-ratcheting department, it would be worth a Netflix (or, like me, dollar movie visit); what with the aspect that managed to top Hitchcock, watching this one at some point is pretty much mandatory. So, y’know. Tick-tock.

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer

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MV5BMTgxMDc2NzA4MV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwOTI1NTY0MQ@@._V1__SX1859_SY847_So I went ahead and saw that Silver Surfer movie my own self, which probably anybody could have predicted. For people who have not read the Fantastic Four comic any time in the last forty plus years (e.g., me) or for people who don’t know any comic book fans who have done so and would be not so much thrilled as actively compelled to explain it to you from that perspective (this one, not so much me; but someone, surely!), a plot synopsis.

So, the Fantastic Four are this public superhero team who, you know, save New York. And probably other stuff as well. But mostly New York, because despite the presence of Spider-Man, Daredevil, and the close proximity of the X-Men, it still doesn’t have enough saving going on. (Plus inevitable others of whom I am unaware. Iron Man, right?) And they’re doing their bicker and save New York and maybe get married thing, living out their everyday lives, when this silver guy appears on a surfboard. From space. Which sounds pretty cool, and probably would be, except he’s kind of a dick. To cite a couple of examples, he’s altering peoples’ genetic make-up with his cosmic radiation and digging these giant bowling ball finger holes into the earth, because he’s the Herald of Galactus. Galactus is a giant humanoid in a purple helmet who likes to eat planets. Except, because pretty much everyone realizes that would look exceptionally stupid on a giant movie screen in 2007, he’s a floating cloud full of energy and lightning and stuff. Like V-Ger, but less our fault. So now instead of bickering and maybe getting married and saving New York, they (the Fantastic Four, our nominal stars of the story, right?) have to save the world from being eaten and/or used for a frame of intergalactic ten pins. Well, and bicker, and maybe get married. (Not all of them, as comic book world is not so enlightened as to allow semi-gay or possibly polygynous marriage. Just Mr. Fantastic and the Invisible Woman. Also, since Johnny Storm is her brother, there are incest problems as well. I’m just saying, maybe in this particular case, comic book world has a point.) Also, Dr. Doom (he’s the bad guy from the first movie) is trying to swing this whole devoured planet thing such that he gets more power. And, one supposes, a new planet in the bargain? Because lots of power but floating in the vacuum of space seems like kind of a win/lose.

It was pretty cool. Tightly paced, not hampered by trying to squeeze a complicated origin story and a climactic battle sequence into the same 90 minutes, pretty, funny, and just on the whole entangled with a factor of coolness. Sure, it was no Spider-Man 2, but what is? It definitely topped Spider-Man 3. Now, we pause for two or three years while the writers try to come up with a new way to get Jessica Alba comically naked, and then wrap a movie around it. (I know that sounds a little derogatory, but only if you think that I disapprove of Jessica Alba themed nudity.)