The Curse of Chalion

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A couple-three years back, I devoured the Vorkosigan series by Lois McMaster Bujold, all in a row in a manner that I clearly no longer utilize. They were good, and I recommend them highly. That said, I was of course interested in the idea of her new book (which has since started to turn into a series of its own), and I eventually snagged a copy of The Curse of Chalion. Only, when I started to read it four months ago (maybe six?), I got about a page and a half in, felt like I was being betrayed into generic fantasy of the most boring stripe, and set it aside for a magical place I like to call the future.

The good news is this: the future has come, and it turned out to be a lot brighter than I would have guessed. I’m not even sure what was so objectionable about that first page; I guess it was just a matter of mood. Anyhow, it’s cool. Cazaril, our hero, is returning home to recapture the simple life he remembers as a castle page, after spending some time as a galley slave. Only, the thing about heroes is life never turns out quite as they hope, and he’s instead re-embroiled in the same politics that led to his original fate (but at a much higher, or perhaps deeper, level) faster than you can make up an appropriate metaphor.

Good stuff: politics, swordplay, treachery, chases, romance, a medieval wet t-shirt contest, demons, and the mysteries of the past and the present. Not only that, but her prose has gotten prettier than I remember it being; from time to time, I’d forget and think I was reading Kay. Finally, it rates well on a theological level. Her version of how gods and men interact with the world and each other is a reasonable approximation of how I imagine these things to work, too, at least. Also, I like that religiousity can be important, nay integral to the storyline without at the same time making the story look like a Chick tract. At some point, I will buy the first sequel and read it too, continuing my ongoing tradition of reviewing any given book months or years after the general public has forgotten it was ever published. Because that’s the kind of quality that I’ve always promised to provide to you, the reader.

When a Stranger Calls (2006)

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I learned two things about Valentine’s Day when I went to catch the late showing of When a Stranger Calls (with, as you may recall, the side goal of finding another single out for a horror movie). The first was that only couples go to see movies on that day. Seriously. Fifteen, twenty couples, no larger groups, certainly none smaller except me. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt quite so conspicuous. Secondly, Valentine’s Day is the day for cleavage. So, that’s alright, then.

But, I also saw a movie. A remake of a movie that was not as old as I personally would have speculated, in fact, but which I nevertheless have not seen. On days like this, I feel bad about rolling my eyes at the factory of unoriginality that Hollywood has become lately. It’s not like I’m doing my part to support the originals instead here. So, I can’t compare it as I ought. I can say it was pretty darned good.

Babysitter Jill Johnson has two sick (and therefore sleeping) children to watch, free access to the fridge, the run of an enormous lakeside mansion, and prank callers. Trade out the prank calls for an amorous boyfriend, and it would probably be a pretty good night. Although the calls are nearly as persistent as the supposed boyfriend would have been. Are they coming from all her friends, away at a bonfire party while she’s stuck on the job? Wrong number? Mysterious stranger bent on her brutal murder? It’s anyone’s guess, but it’s certainly enough to leave girl and audience increasingly tense in the unfamiliar and dark house on what can only be described as a stormy night. The slow build and lack of cheap, tension-relieving scares set this one a cut above, in my book. The original is usually better than the remake of any given movie; I hear that’s not the case this time, but if it were? Wow.

Firewall

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I know, I know. Not one but two horror movies out as of this past weekend, and yet somehow what I’ve seen lately is Firewall. Well, to that I have two things to say. 1) I bet I see one of them within the next night or two. In fact, there’s something obscurely pleasing about going to see something tomorrow night particularly, as a single girl in a horror movie on Valentine’s Day might be just the thing I’m looking for. 2) Harrison Ford does have a certain cachet that outweighs considerations of how similar his recent movies have been to each other.

This latest is a by the numbers thriller, even to the extent that its misleads come at predictable intervals. Mr. Ford plays a bank internet security expert who even knows how to set up a proper Cisco access list to block potential Asian hackers, so you can tell he can handle all the other security considerations within the first moments of the film. The problem is, someone has decided this makes him the perfect inside man, and they’re willing to kidnap his entire family to convince him. Will they get away with it? Will someone have a conveniently leveraging peanut allergy? Will there be a climactic fist fight? I think you know.

It did, however, have one of the most hilarious fraught-with-portent lines in my recent memory. “So, what are you going to do?” “I’m going to find my dog!”

F.E.A.R.

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The video game renaissance continues unabated. Earlier this week, I finished another shooter with the unlikely acronym expansion of First Encounter Assault Recon, a government organization called in whenever the military anticipates paranormal activity on a combat assignment. In this case, a psychic with control over a thousand clone troops has snapped, started eating people, and taken control of a military contractor’s facility. What’s a guy to do but strap on some guns and start hunting clones? Except, the little girl in the red dress who keeps incinerating the normal backup units is making things… complicated.

I was surprised by how good this game was. The AI thing is really starting to get a lot better, such that part of the strategy for surviving an encounter with an enemy squad is making sure there’re enough items around to heal you afterward, rather than the old restore from save if you get hurt any trick. On top of that, I never imagined playing through a Japanese horror film, but that’s what this was, despite the wholly Americanized plotline that encases it. Several genuinely scary moments in the dark room with those headphones on.

The really cool backgrounds and graphics were ruined for me by Condemned, though. I just finished playing it in huge screen HD glory before F.E.A.R., only to find myself in another game made by the same people, which meant that I’d seen a lot of the background items and some of the background buildings just before, but in almost infinitely better resolution. (It might be time to upgrade my video card, though I won’t. It’s definitely time to upgrade my CPU and maybe motherboard, though I doubt I’ll do that either. This is why consoles hold the market share. Much lower cost to maintain, as long as you were going to get a good TV for your monitor anyway.)

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

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Okay, so I lied. I do kind of know why it took me so long to review the Matador. Part of the reason, at least. Shortly thereafter, I saw Eternal Sunshine, and it left me disquieted and unsure what to say or even whether to say anything, and that leaked into the other thoughts I had about the other movie, and then I was just stuck.

Kind of like I am again now, as it happens. Good movie, though. Very good use of camerawork to demonstrate the workings of how people think and remember. Good use of the taking the story out of order to frame important events properly device, and that’s not light praise from me, because a lot of people have been doing that in TV and movies alike lately, and it’s most often just a way to get a cheap thrill out of the opening moments of the show rather than a thoughtful look at the entire story. Excellent acting, of course, and also Kate Winslet is everything that I want her to be, as in the majority of her work. (That is, pleasant to the eyes, ears, and mind. Yumtastic, even.)

See how I didn’t really say anything about the movie there? Yeah, I’m trying to keep the plot quiet, because it ought to be seen with a clean slate. But that’s not really it at all. It’s that I feel like with only very minor changes in the facts and in available technology, it could have been lifted right out of my life. It’s not just that it’s difficult to talk about things that are very personal (though it is), it’s that it’s harder yet to have someone else who I’ve never met before do it for me. Like I said, disquieting is what it is. I’ve lived that life, and learned those lessons, and if I’m lucky, someday I’ll find someone else who is the right person for me like that but has also learned those lessons, because I don’t think I can only apply them from my side and have it do any good. So, anyway, being that personal, did I like it? I did. A lot. But I don’t think I’ll be watching it again anytime soon.

Also, referring to an earlier point in the review that I intend not to specify: see what I did there? Ha! I kill me.

The Matador

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Sometime over the weekend, I saw The Matador. I doubt I would’ve gotten around to it, only it fit the day’s schedule better than my horror-remake preference or my mom’s generic military coming-of-age preference. Which is almost certainly lucky for one of us, and that one of us is probably me, so I’ll take it. Why, then, have I not reviewed it yet? That was days and days ago. I don’t have a good answer. My head has not been in the right place for typing, perhaps. Nonetheless, I’m here now, and here I go.

So, yeah, Pierce Brosnan as a contract killer is not a stretch, perhaps, but this ain’t no James Bond flick. Bond was never an alcoholic, for one thing, neither did he ever have moments of doubt or a penchant for pedophilia. At least, we’re led to believe he had none of those things, but considering one of the things Bond and Julian Noble do have in common, I’m not so sure we can really take any of this to the bank. That is, they’re both sociopaths.

I know what you’re thinking, but it’s all there. Bond has no regard for others, no sense of remorse over his actions, is a consummate liar and indulges in constant illegal activity. It’s just that’s he’s in one of the few jobs where all of this is sanctioned, and it’s worked out very well for him. But I’m not here to talk about Bond, just to make the comparison. My sense is that whereas Bond is filmed through a flattering lens that hides all of these flaws in favor of what he achieves for his country, Noble is shown in a more honest light. Of course, being a paid assassin is automatically less acceptable than being a spy, but the ways he acts toward other people are much less polished as well. And yet, in true sociopathic form, he’s still thoroughly likable, witty, and outright fun to be around, able to win people over at the drop of a hat and keep them won despite being caught in insulting lies. I know I was rooting for him, even while diagnosing in my head everything that made him not just a bad person but an outright sick one.

So: funny movie, good characters, reasonable enough storyline. I should say that I don’t think I ever quite bought into the matador comparison that was the movie’s central conceit. …and it’s pleasant I did say so, because it’s just clicked for me. The whole point of claiming that the matador’s profession is noble, making a better death for the bull than a hammer blow to the head, is that this claim is completely untrue. It’s just something we say to make ourselves feel better about being entertained. Or about being the entertainer, in this case.

Condemned: Criminal Origins

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And now I’ve finished the last of my 360 launch titles, after wrapping up Condemned yesterday afternoon. In the sense of finishing the game, that is, not actually unlocking every little thing. (Though I find myself surprisingly tempted, as it implies the unlocking of substantially more main character backstory.) In any case, assume the prettiness of the thing, as I have pretty much concluded that all HD games will be extra-pretty for the near future, and it’s only worth commenting upon if it’s unusually bad. Poor Bill Gates, how quickly I have acclimated to your 720 or 1080 line utopia. (I should point out that sometimes the people were a little blocky. Not that this is bad; I guess I’m just used to video game people being slender rather than built like wrestlers, so it was noteworthy.)

So, the game then. Really, really cool. The play was nervewracking, because sometimes the homeless people were hard to beat up, and just shooting them in the face was limited by a lack of guns laying around in the abandoned train tunnels and the abandoned department stores and the abandoned schools and the abandoned apple orchards. So, yeah, lots of the urban dystopia motif, but it fits when the purpose of the game is hunting down serial killers. They tend to hide, when they’re the ones from TV rather than the ones in real life. Plus, all the crazy homeless people would be harder to explain in a regular shopping mall. Next good thing about the game: the further in it got, the more surreal it got, and I’m all about the surreal horror. Sure, Resident Evil coasted on zombies for a good long while, but RE4 (which I’ve never finished, and don’t think that isn’t a nearish-future concern) and the Silent Hill games have that little extra oomph over just shooting at bad guys, because you really want to know what’s truly going on, just that much more.

Unfortunately for that class of game, the big reveal at the end can fall short of expectations, as it did here. Nowhere near enough to make the game look bad as a result, but I was really hoping for something more. (Particularly egregious: the decision that closed out the game had no actual bearing on the ending, it just unlocked two different ending point scenarios and bonus cinematics and such. Lame.) That said, the investigative CSI part of the game was pretty cool, and I’d probably play another such game, as long as it was more dead birds and crazy homeless people and less actual like the TV show CSI as the backdrop for all the investigatin’.

Cell

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When Stephen King books appear, that’s a good day for me. When I can see everything he’s paying homage to, as I could in Cell, that just gives me a whole added level of appreciation. I mean, sure, he makes his dedication to Romero and Matheson in the first place, which does twitch the old notice-meter a little bit, but on top of that I’ve actually read I Am Legend since I started doing all this, and Night of the Living Dead has been one of my favorite movies for a long time indeed. Take a story that crosses them together and on top of that was written by my personal favorite storyteller, and you have a book that does not suck.

The premise could not be simpler. At 3 in the afternoon of October 1st, somebody injects a signal into the cellular satellite network, and whoever listens to a connected cellphone call from that moment forward is instantly and perhaps irrevocably changed into something… well, something violently rampaging and decidedly not human, whatever other conclusions may be drawn. The only thing remaining to do for people who managed to avoid the phones long enough to realize the cause of the instant societal breakdown is to stay off the network and to try to survive. And perhaps, to fight back.

Oh, right, so it’s also an end of the world novel. Shocking, really, that I liked it at all. King, cool references, zombie analogs, societal collapse. Things I really just can’t stand, obviously. My point is, this has been a good week, and the only reason it took so long to get through is that I’ve been savoring it, like a thing that connoisseurs of that type of thing would linger over for maximum enjoyment. The man has a big library, no mistake, but this is still easily one of his best works. Both the story and the horror of it grabbed me from the first few moments, and I never let go. …well, until I got to the last page, because it was time to read something else. But if there had been more pages, I can assure you I would be reading them. Probably later tonight rather than right now, but that’s really beside the point, don’t you think?

Hostel

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Things I Learned While Watching Hostel Last Night:

1) Americans are miserable tourists, reviled throughout Europe. Luckily, someone is doing something about this.
2) Eastern European chicks are really hot, and when eventually I’ve given up all hope, at least the mail-order bride thing is still an option. (Although some of them could stand to be a bit less evil.)
3) Guilt- and consequence-free sex is not to be lightly refused, as you are no more likely to be killed for having it than you are to be safe from doom for avoiding it. (NOTE: Does not apply to Camp Crystal Lake and environs.)
4) When possible, do not vomit while wearing a ball-gag. It will almost never end well.
5) I’d rather have holes drilled into my leg than be hamstrung.
6) In the highly unlikely event that a perfect revenge scenario appears fully formed behind a pizza delivery truck, well, cool beans. Take it, for it won’t come by again.

(Okay, let’s be honest. You weren’t going to see this movie. But on the off-chance that you’re still up in the air about it, that ought to be enough data to allow you to make up your mind. Carry on.)

Survivor’s Quest

With a new Stephen King book on the way, my goal was to pick a book that would be fast and easy, so I could be done in time to start right in. But, between suddenly picking up a lot of steam on the last of my 360 games and picking a book that wasn’t quite as breezy as I was expecting, I ran a few days late. Luckily, it was for a book that I genuinely enjoyed, so that’s okay.

Apparently, Timothy Zahn’s latest Star Wars entrant was released a couple of years ago while I was paying attention to something else. I never really saw it anywhere, or heard people talking about it until just in the past month. This is odd, because it appears to have been pretty relevant to all the other ones I’ve been reading lately, and even more so because it was at the usual high watermark in literary quality of the ongoing series. (Luckily for me, the prequel to Survivor’s Quest will be out next week, and I know to watch for it this time.)

In any case, yeah, this one has all the Star Wars-y (and otherwise) goodness you might be looking for. Onion layer-worthy twists, lightsaber excitement galore, a stormtrooper squad that I’ve lately been familiar with from the world of videogames (which makes it cooler to me, if not to Joe Average Reader, I suppose), the past and the future of the franchise coming together in an entirely sensible and interesting way. Sure, some of the books are golden, some of them you read just to know what’s going on between gold, and some of them you can ditch because the other books will pick up the slack for you in apology for this last group of books being so horrible. As usual, though, Zahn only provides the pure gold. Could you read just his stuff, ignore that the rest of the Star-Wars-as-a-novel experiment exists, and be pretty happy with the outcome? There’s a lot of other things I’ve read and enjoyed the hell out of, but yes. Yes, you could.