TRASH FICTION

LET'S TALK ABOUT TRASH - OH YEAH

So anyway, I read a lot of books. Dipped a foot into just about every genre, as well as stuff which defies standard genre definition. Some books are interesting, some moving, some... well, they sure are collections of words. The one written mainstay in my literary life, though, has been terrible, trashy novels.

I think my love affair with them sort of spun off from two things in my childhood - Commando comics, which were essentially British Boys Own adventure tales, where squared-jawed heroes punch Nazis (and occasionally people from other nationalities, but they were all bad eggs) squarely in the jaw - and the Star Wars novels, which I actually ended up enjoying vastly more than the films they'd spun off of.

But before I go any deeper into this pit of literary refuse, perhaps I should define what I mean by trash? Well, it's fairly simply - I'm talking the most base and derivative of genre works; the stuff that holds the fewest narrative surprises, the most basically sketched out characters, and often (let's face it) the highest body counts. Story where the value of a human life is determined by exactly how sinister a person's gaze is, and by what kind of reptile he can be most compared to. Which reminds me - you'll get a lot of stock phrases in the prose. They'll pop up EVERYwhere. It's like all the authors have access to the same book of story terminology, and are allowed to draw from no other source. There's little-to-no experimentation with the text, and just about every event in the story is telegraphed long before it happens.

Obviously, this stuff has a lot in common with pulp fiction - indeed, pulp crime stories, penny dreadfuls' and dime-westerns were early forms of the same kind of stuff. They're rickety, slap shod works that fall apart under the barest scrutiny, and will probably rot your brain.

Besides all that, though, I find them to be a lot of fun.

What, then, is the appeal? Part of it might be an act of rebellion on my part - I don't know if you've read a lot of actual literary works, but the damn things are mentally EXHAUSTING. Not just because of their themes, but because a lot of them will spend a lot of time in simple description. Part of that is a hang-over from the Victorian-era novels (Dickens, for example, being famously paid by the word). But in any case, considering everything and every element of a story, whilst sometimes deeply rewarding, isn't very fun. Sometimes you just want the sad, allelic gardener to reject his inevitable station in life, not simply emotionally (by lusting after the landowners' comely daughter), but by literally picking up a war axe and carving his way through his world, violently rejecting everything but gushing blood and grim, pointless death. It's remarkably relaxing.

Obviously, trash can cover a lot (well, ok, generally not that many) of topics - romance is one of the more famous, for example - but my chosen poison is violence. Of course, there are many KINDS of violence in trash, and it took me a long time to refine for myself what seems to work best for me. The easiest way for me to explain it, I think, is to wave vaguely in the direction of Robert E. Howard an H.P. Lovecraft, and tell ya'll to work outwards from there.

In short, fuck chosen ones. Fuck being special because destiny says so. Fuck dynasties, fuck societal importance - the value of a person in these stories is generally defined either by simple virtues (such as killing ability, and manners), or as ultimately insignificant. Nihilistic? In a way, I suppose, though obviously one shouldn't view these sorts of stories as commentaries or morality plays (though Conan would occasionally toss in a thought or two on civilisation). I find that concept, though, utterly liberating - a giant middle finger raised in the face of determinism and supposed moral authority.

So, specifically, what sort of trash do I read? I'm sad to say that, lately, I've gotten a bit tired of Star Wars - the post-prequel direction of the franchise has made so many blunders, moving away from the aspects I enjoyed most about it, that I find it very difficult to enjoy anymore. Currently floating my boat, we have Warhammer novels - both fantasy and 40k. I enjoy these because their universes are wide enough that you can covers hundreds of different characters and stories, and don't have to tie them to a core cast of characters around which every event in the universe spins. Also, they unapologetically violent, and feature things like giant robots that fire warheads filled with demons, and swarms in insect aliens, and lots and lots of hopeless last stands (some of which are quite literally hopeless last stands). Pointless resistance in the face of utter annihilation - I loves me some of that. A lot of the authors are pretty meh, but there are a few who know how effective a literary flourish is here and there - stories like this aren't, by design, void of emotion, but they can come off as very dry if the writer spends too much time giving out detailed descriptions of the ebb and flow of battle. I much prefer stories where we get into a characters' head space - where the violence, though still aesthetically enthralling, has some real emotional weight to it. For those interested, check out authors like Chris Wright, Dan Abnett, and Aaron Demski-Bowden.

Now, if you've been paying attention, you'll have noticed that so far I've mainly spoken about shared-world franchise fiction (one spun off from a movie, one spun off from a table-top game). Part of this is because that's where the trashiest trash exists, part of this is because, frankly, I find world building can get in the way of the story I actually want to read. The world, for me, should be a backdrop, the stage on which the characters perform - not the foreground, a curtain that everyone trips over. That's because I enjoy character driven fiction most of all - and whilst a well developed world can be intellectually stimulating as one ponders the ramifications of, say, Elephant Overlords, ultimately a lot of those stories come to the same value judgements (ie: BE CAUTIOUS or SCIENCE IS DANGEROUS or TECHNOLOGY IS DEHUMANISING etc etc), and I don't often appreciate that. Fut her more, if character plays second fiddle to the setting, you get nothing but a group of card-board cut outs, pointing at the features the author wants you to notice. Ideally, of course, story, world building and character would all work in tandem - I'm just saying I have more time for an author who prioritises characters over world/plot than the other way around. And, given that the setting's already fairly well fleshed out in such franchises, they're not something that's usually examined in a lot of depth.

Other trash I enjoy - The Dresden Files make for some Buffy-style light reading. I've started David Gemmel's Druss books. Comics and video game and TV shows, of course - so much to work through there, I may save it for another blog.

One caveat - trash is often more about subject matter than moral philosophy. Never-the-less, I've learned as I've gotten older to be more demanding in what I actually enjoy. Call it a concession to maturity - I just can't dig on lack of effort man. MOVE ME WITH YOUR VIOLENCE. When that chainsword slices off your rival's face, I want to feel the impact of it! Emotionally! (Not physically, I need my face.) Just because you're writing trash, doesn't mean you can't be a craftsman about it! Objectivity still has a place, even in these sorts of stories.

So there's my opening salvo. Hopefully this will get something of a discussion going . If you're lacking in immediately responses, I'll ask a question: what sort of trash do you enjoy? Why? TELL ME YOUR SECRET SHAME.

TOXIC MEMES - Media and identity

So anyway, as I was thinking about upcoming topics to post about, I came to a little realisation: at some point in just about every topic I'm going to be referring to the way the media represents a topic in some way. Now, there are a few reasons for this -

Now, it must be said, I am a media student - I'm basically trained to look at the world through this lens. Whenever I see a production, whether it be film, literature, news media, or so on, my brain automatically kicks into a certain gear: what is this production saying? What is it trying to say? What is it trying to avoid? Furthermore, what is it saying without even meaning to? It's not really conscious - I don't literally ask myself those questions - but those gears are always working away in the background every time I watch something. And as hard as it may be for some to understand, this does, in fact, increase my enjoyment of a lot of things - not only because understanding the process behind a work can give you a heightened level of appreciation for how everything fits together, but when you're watching a production where the creator KNOWS your brain is working this way, they'll deliberately play little games with you, fulfilling and subverting your expectations, playing mind games, and in short, exploiting view psychology to achieve a desired response. When it all fits together, it's exhilarating. When it doesn't... it's kind of like trying to drive a car where the wheels have fallen off. It doesn't matter what steps you're taking, the whole thing just isn't really going to work. In short, this is your brain on Media Studies.

Another primary reason for my media focus in this blog is, quite simply, I love stories. I love comics, movies, novels, video games, new media, and any other medium that's likely to pop up in the next few decades - I find immersing myself in other worlds, other perspectives, exhilarating. I find talking about these things endlessly fascinating. I live and breathe the things, and thus, a lot of my responses are going to be towards media simply because that's where I get a lot of my input.

Finally - and this is where things get a bit hazy - I believe there is a definite link between what people see in the media, and what they believe (which informs how they behave). The degree to which this affects people is going to vary wildly - depending on how much media they ingest, how psychologically susceptible they are, and how much they know about what's being portrayed. I haven't actually done any serious research into these effects (though it's something I might get around to these days) - but I don't believe there's any such thing as total mental immunity to the messages we receive from the media we consume. Whether it's obvious or not, whether we want to acknowledge it or not, some part of our brain takes these things on board. Thus, in either a direct or indirect way, what we consume will inform how we behave. This is an occasionally controversial arena, and I'm probably going to get a little bit of flack for it, but there it is.

So there you have it. A minor explanation of why I'm going to be harping on about TV shows when I'm covering a seemingly unrelated topic. Huzzah!

TOXIC MEMES - Romanticizing romance

I think it would be fair to say that most people reading this would like, at some point in their lives, to be involved in a romantic relationship of some sort (or is, in fact, involved in one now). Nothing wrong with that in and of itself, says I. But why is it that a lot of us feel so utterly diminished by the lack of a partner? Why is it never really enough just to wait and see what happens, without feeling the increasing anxiety that - if we don't sort out this relationship thing sooner or later - we will DIE ALONE? Why is the idea of dying alone (TM) such an utterly terrifying one to many people?

I don't really know, of course - research is for patient people who actually have time and inclination to read through mounds of materials. Instead, I'm simply going to float some ideas about this topic, and see what spills out of my fingers. Okay? Here we go!

So, like a lot of you, I spent a lot of my time when I was younger being quite lonely. It didn't matter how many friends I had, or how close they were, something always felt like it was missing. And as far as I knew, of course, that something was a girlfriend. That's what would fix this aching void in my heart. Someone nice and funny and smart all those other little things you think you want in a partner when you're about 18. And, of course, being a shy, awkward, socially inept, physically unfit gamer/lit nerd, I wasn't going to be fixing that anytime soon (one thing I've learned that women like, you see, is the ability to form to words in front of them). And I felt horrible about this.

Somehow, my desire for a partner was not just a desire that stood on its own - it had become a reflection of my worth as a human being. And that's fucked. Even if I ever got in a relationship (which I eventually did, much to my ex's horror), I was only going to make that person responsible for keeping me happy which - as the old adage goes - is something that can really only be created internally. So that was a disaster, of course. But that's not really what I find interesting.

Like so many others, I felt that not having a partner meant that there was something wrong with me. Where does this idea come from? Narrative in media's an obvious one - heroes and heroines, across a multitude of genres would engage in romance, whether it was really relevant to the greater story or not. Of course, a lot of studio execs and the like would encourage writers to create these sub plots, as romance is usually meant to appeal to women in what would other wise be a primarily male affair. Certainly, it's treated as one of the rewards of success/being a good person - a good person comes to see you as being someone of value and loves you for it. We're also frequently taught that this is something to be valued greater than worldly concerns - money, power etc. Love conquers all. Is that a bad thing? Maybe, maybe not - but for an impressionable young mind, it can certainly help a germ of an idea of a neurosis to form.

Other sources? Well, news media, of course. Despite the thousands upon thousands of stories of spousal abuse, broken marriage, domestic violence etc, romance and relationships are still - overall - presented in a positive light, as something desirable. It's all part of the Perfect Life package - the Job, the House, the Family etc. One of the major ways to be recognised as being a fully developed, mature human being is to prove that you can maintain a stable relationship with another human being - preferably in close quarters. This disregards a number of personality types and sexual preferences, of course, but those are broader topics I may have to return to in another rant.

In any case, these are where the ideas may originate for a lot of us, but what keeps them consistently in the forefront of our minds, what makes them so important in our lives as to be utterly impossible to ignore, is each other, and our selves. Once an idea like this has taken hold, everyone accepts it as being the true state of affairs.

Of course, there are social and biological reasons for doing this - romance leads to relationships leads to babies leads to the species surviving - and certainly, I've nothing against families in general (though I find the traditional definition a bit too limiting). The problem I guess is this: it doesn't seem to matter how far our species has come, or what the individual circumstances of us are, to not pursue a romantic relationship is the act of a deviant. Even if you're not into long term engagements, you should at least be pursuing a bit of strange (and that's definitely a topic I'll be exploring later). Collectively, we're so obsessed with this idea that we have to force ourselves into such engagements, that we disregard any question that it's the right thing to do. To desire.

And that idea needs to die.

There are many good reasons to enter into a romantic relationship. There are also many bad ones. And wanting to enter into one simply because you feel you have to is something I would classify as a very bad idea. Damaging for you, and damaging for your partner. Of course, young people aren't really that interested in self-exploration, so expecting anyone to heed that idea when it might make a difference is going to be a tall order. So, naturally, that falls to the rest of us. To teach, to inspire, and to do all we can to combat the idea that, no matter where you are, no matter what you are doing in life, your circumstances will ALWAYS be improved by romance.

Talk about it, read about it, write about it. Kill this poison meme dead, and stop the cycle. I think that'll do for an opening rant. Will follow this up when ever the hell I feel like it.

Cowboys 'n Vampires 'n Zombies 'n, um, Thai people.

The Good, The Bad, (&) The Weird

I haven't seen a lot of Korean films. But, between this and The Host, I certainly want to see more. Genre blending (or perhaps more accurately, genre collision course) is the name of the game here, as a Korean director Kim Ji-woon takes on a few of the basic plot elements and visual motives of Sergio Leone's classic Western, splices it with an Indiana Jones style treasure hunting adventure, adds a dash of Hong Kong style heroic bloodshed, and then paints the whole thing in one of the most vibrant and colourful palates I've seen outside of The Wizard of Oz – despite the complete lack of Indiana Jones style supernatural elements, the visual style alone places the film firmly in the arena of the pulp adventure, and Lord am I ever thankful for that.

Plot-wise, we've got the three eponymous characters using an ancient map to find a Qing dynasty treasure in 1930's Manchuria during the Japanese occupation. 'The Good', Park Do-won, is a bounty hunter in a great big duster and a cool hat, who has a prefence for rifles. 'The Bad', Park Chang-yi is, according to my girlfriend, horrifically hot, has floppy hair, likes knives and pistols and generally being a jerk. And, of course, there's 'The Weird' , Yoon Tae-goo (the dad from The Host! Hurrah!), a roguish character who gets about in a pilots cap, is the most human character and for the most part, the audiences frame of reference. As the film goes on, we learn very little about the characters (barring The Weird, who's past occasionally catches up to him... much like his proxy from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, natch), but generally, we don't need to. They're fairly archetypal western adventure characters, and they're there for one reason – to do awesome stuff. And they do. This film is pleasantly action packed, with extremely busy set-pieces to swash-buckle around. Highlights include a gunfight in a black market town, and the 5-way chase scene at the end that has the Do-won and Tae-goo racing for the treasure's prize against Chang-yi's gang, a gang of bandits, and the Japanese Imperial Army! (all set to Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood. It's pretty rockin'.).

Finally, I must mention the utterly frantic, kinetic direction and cinematography. The camera takes full advantage of the set design (or perhaps the sets are taking full advantage of the camera. Whatever!) to bring an incredibly diverse array of shots, angles, tracking and so on. The camera sometimes feels as though it's being strung about the place on a complex series of wires (or at least, flying around under its own power), as it will follow a protagonist across an elaborate set-piece before pushing in to a close up of said character narrowly avoiding getting crushed, and then swivelling around to look at some new threat. And only THEN will it cut. It's truly something to see, and I certainly found it tremendously exciting, as it lent each action scene a an air of continuous, unrelenting energy. In short, a giant 'Fuck you' to the overly tedious, over-produced special effects shots and the hyper-active editing of many Western action films that obscure all sense of what's happening in the name of creating some sort of impressionistic interpretation of events. GBW demonstrates once again that it is quite possible to keep the audience informed of what's happening on screen in an interesting way, and that such cheap tricks are completely unnecessary.

In short, after watching this film, I came away with one major question: Why is an Asian director doing a better Western-style adventure film than the West? Make no mistake, despite the film's obvious Asian aesthetic, at its heart it's a love letter to a particular style of film that has generally been the province of the West for decades. If shifting this genre to a difference continent will continue to revitalise flagging and tedious genres, I can only hope this keeps happening. Fast and the Furious, Cambodian style! Italian Mobster movie as performed by a Malaysian theatre company! Under-dog sports story except done by Hong Kong with crazy Chi-powered moves! Wait, that already happened. It was called Shaolin Soccer, and it was awesome.

Is it entertaining? Extremely so. Every character's a badass, and big coats will always be cool. Unless they are black. That's Matrix-chic and hasn't been cool for a long time.

Is it worth watching? Definitely. There's so much to enjoy about every element of this film that it's hard to imagine anyone coming away totally unsatisfied.

Ong Bak 2

So this film really has nothing to do with Ong Bak. Yeah, Tony Jaa's still in it, it's still a martial arts film, and he still kicks all manner of ass. But it's also set 600 years in the past during a period of feuding states in medieval Thailand. Now, my Thai history is pretty shoddy, so there's not a lot I can tell you about this period, but for the purposes of this film, it really doesn't matter. To be honest, the plot's pretty simple martial arts fair: Tony Jaa's character, Tien (like his name matters. He's Tony Jaa, man!) is the son of a noble, er, noble. His family is killed by an ignoble noble. He falls in with a band of guerilla's/bandits/assassins/I'm not really sure what they are, and learns how to kick ass from a variety of fighters from all over the world. He then uses this knowledge to wreck vengeance on those who murdered his father. Now, yes, it is a simple plot, but here's the thing: during the film it's almost impossible to tell what's actually going on. Scenes jump back and forwards in time a lot, and are often bereft of any particular context. Come to think of it, this often happens when the narrative is trying to be more linear. We'll see Tony Jaa training with his homies, and then we'll cut to him wondering into a cave and fighting some sort of weird vampire person. His mentor figure then shows up and tells Jaa he must be ruthless, so he kills the weird vampire person. That's it. I really have no idea what was going on there. It might have been more training, it might just have been Tony Jaa's bad day for random vampire attacks. Ah well.

However (and it's a pretty important however), none of this really matters. The plot is nigh-incomprehensible, but once little Tien stabs a Crocodile to death, you won't care. And when he back-flips off an elephant and stomps a guy, all your qualms about the storyline will probably be forgotten. And then Tien is attack by crazy Persian-lookin' ninja dudes, and all is suddenly as it should be. Put simply, it is very fortunate for the audience that this film is utterly action packed. Martial Arts films are really just talent reels. We're here for the spectacle, and this film delivers. The film does slow down on occasion, but this is usually solved by having a random cutaway to the bandits killing some caravan, or to Tony having a three round mini-tournament with a succession of international fighters, or to a flashback where there's a fight scene for some reason. It's really marvellously entertaining. However, boo to the occasional use of wire-work. Tony himself doesn't seem to use it, but the appeal of his films (for me, at least) has always been the complete lack of these sorts of stunt props, as well as a lack of CGI. Keep it out of future instalments, y'hear?

Is it entertaining? Do you find Thai dudes fighting hordes of Persian-lookin' ninjas on the back of an elephant entertaining? The correct answer is, of course, yes.

Is it worth watching? Again. Backflip. Elephant. Ignore the plot, and hang out for the spectacle. You'll be alright.

Blood: The Last Vampire

Based onthe Production IG Original Video Animation of the same name, this is a bit of a mutant creature. Despite its Japanese character's and setting, it's a joint French/Korean/Hong Kong production, filmed primarily in English, with action scenes that either adopt Zack Snyder's habit of playing with film speed, or clearly inspired by Wuxia style Chinese fantasy. Its mythos is definitely Japanese, though, so I dunno, it all feels a little weird. Oh, and I should also mention that it has little to do with the Anime series Blood+, other than they both draw on the orignal OVA for inspiration.

Blood: The Last Vampire, then, is the story of a Japanese school girl named Saya who kills demons with a sword. Except that she's actually a fairly old vampire who kills demons with a sword. I guess they just feel she looks fetching in a fuku. Anyway, she infiltrates a school for the children of US servicemen on Okinawa, looking for more demons to kill, with a particular eye for the biggest, baddest demon Onigen, who had betrayed and murdered her father. It's also set in the 70's during the time of the Vietnam War, but this isn't really relevant. Most likely, it was so they could use random afro disco demons at one point, which, I have to admit, is the best reason to set anything in the 70's at all. Oh, Saya's also got the support of an ancient organisation called The Covenant, who don't like the demons either, so that kind of works for both of them. Yeah. Plot's not really all that interesting or important, and you'll probably pick out the twists far in advance of their occurrence.

A couple of interesting things about the film: there are a few scenes which are near exact recreation of scenes in the original OVA, which is kinda nifty, and at least shows some respect for the source material. Of course, anyone familiar with the source material knows that there wasn't really a lot of depth to the thing, so the story is expanded a fair bit. In fairly melodramatic directions. But, if you can get past that, there's quite a few action scenes to enjoy. There is a pretty major problem with them, though: really quite bad special effects. The blood is all CGI, and doesn't look or act remotely like blood might. The demons, when they transform into their inhuman state, are likewise pretty shoddy constructions, and make for a bit of an eyesore whenever it happens. In fact, the only really effect shot that I feel really works is the film form of Onigen, which is based on an old Oni image and is actually rather nifty. Never-the-less, all the actions scenes are kind of hampered by these effects, particularly when the whole thing keeps swerving between self-aware campitude and excessive melodrama. Some of the action has its eye firmly on cheesy good times (such as the aforementioned afro demons), but all too often we get scenes which are probably supposed to have some sort of gravities for the characters come off as overwrought and silly, and that isn't very good for the story.

I don't know, I really don't know what to make of this. I guess you could enjoy it if you'd ever wanted to know what a Chinese fantasy story with a Japanese flavour would look like, but there's too many glaring faults for me to really recommend it.

Is it entertaining? ...Bits of it. Kinda.

Is it worth watching? I can't really endorse it, but it's fairly harmless. Watch the Anime spin-off Blood + instead.

Zombieland

Eep, a Western film? I BROKE THE PATTERN.

Anyways, pretty good fun, this. Follows the adventures of a neurotic, awkward teenager Colombus surviving in post-zombocalypse America. He meets up with fellow survivors: Tallahassee, the gun totin' wisecrackin' redneck; Witchita, con-woman love interest; and Little Rock, con-little-girl and generally child. If you're noticing a theme with the naming, well, give yourself a button – they're all known for their areas of origin, and for the most part, that's all we know them as. This, of course, ties into a pretty damn prevalent theme about deliberate distance and alienation, and all eventually ties in to a sweet moral about trust, and learning to rely on others and the importance of companionship and family. Aw.

But yeah, this is a comedy. Furthermore, this is an extremely genre-savvy comedy. Whilst I wouldn't say that knowledge of previous zombie films is a necessity to enjoy this film, and there are few if any deliberate and obvious shout-outs (beyond the fact that there are zombies and they have eaten everyone), the entire past 30 years of the genre weigh heavily upon each and every scene of the film. Accordingly, the film uses this weight to lead the audience around by the nose several times, both fulfilling expectations and, at times, subverting them. To be perfectly honest, it doesn't really break any boundaries, but that's okay. This is pretty much the scenario every geek has had in their head for decades: when the zombocalypse goes down, it is those condition in the school of John Romero et al who survive. That said, the film is no where near as bleak as a Romero film. Sure, civilisation (or at least, America) is basically totalled, but hey, at least killing zombies is fun!

Like its trans-Atlantic cousin, Shaun of the Dead, the film has been structured as a straight zombie film as opposed to a parody or farce, and that's one of the keys to its enjoyment factor. Characters are not just gag-vehicles, and there's nothing really hokey about it (though there is a certain degree of action-movie logic to the whole affair. Well, alright, there's also a celebrity cameo. But it's funny! Honest!). Humour is born from dialogue, mostly by contrasting Columbus' idiosyncratic personality disorders with Tallahassee's callous disregard for anything besides killing zombies and searching for quaintly American spongy cake-things. The girls are less interesting, this has never really been a genre known for its female character's, so it doesn't really bother me so much. It's also a very modern incarnation of the zombie film: zombies run, and have more in common with the 28 Days Later variety of rage-infected lunatics than with the Romero zombies or yesteryear. There's also a lot of slow motion in the action scenes, but that really seems to be par-for-course nowadays.

Is it entertaining? Yeah, it it'll do.

Is with worth watching? For holiday entertainment, you could do a lot worse.

Bruce Willis is not a robot, Aliens are not African people, and Jews are not happy.

The Surrogates

Sci-Fi thriller starring Bruce Willis, adapted from the graphic novel. In the near future, people have created android bodies so lifelike, that - with the help of a neural uplink - they now use them to get around instead of their own bodies. Basically, taking the avatar concept to it's logical endpoint - literally be whoever you want to be. Fun concept, though the avatar metaphor isn't really explored in much depth. There's a mystery plot, which brings no surprises, and characters which fail to engage over-much. I guess there wasn't anything really awful about The Surrogates, but I'm hard pressed to really recommended it. Watch it, and then perhaps use it as a platform to launch into a conversation about the fronts people use online, and what it all really means for humanity. You'll probably come to more interesting conclusions than the film itself did.

Was it entertaining? Had a couple of moments. There's a chase scene with Bruce Willis being very Terminator which was kind of cool.

Is it worth watching? Couldn't hurt, I suppose.


District 9

Sci-fi action/mockumentary starring.... some South African dudes. Now this I enjoyed. The first third of the film is shot in pure documentary style, giving us a look at an alien reserve in Johannesburg, started when a starship came in earth in 1982. So, naturally, Apartheid references abound, and for the most part, it works really well. Just about the entire film is shot in an actual Johannesburg slum, which makes for a suitably messy, depressing setting. As the film goes along, a plot does begin to emerge, as we follow a bureaucrat as he wonders around the titular District 9, giving eviction notices to the Aliens (as they are being moved out of their current homes to another preserve, which, notably, is far away from the city). During the course of his wacky adventures in evil banality, he comes into contact with an alien substance. Things get worse for him, but much better for the audience, as the film takes a turn first from scene-setting mockumentary to body horror, and then from body horror to wacky 80's style action-fest. I've read reports of people finding this shift jarring, as though they expected the whole thing to be in the doco style, but personally, given the sheer amount of horrible things that happen to the protagonist, and the complete and utter bastardy of a lot of the characters, when our dude gets his hands on a giant alien lightening gun which pops people like balloons, it is THE MOST GRATIFYING THING EVER. It's be like if you were watching the Wire, and everything was totally serious business, except that McNalty finds a giant cannon and kills EVERYONE YOU HATED. HORRIBLY. Now, one could make a case that this style shift betrays the premise of the film but turning it into a cartoon shoot out, but if you approach the film as an action sci-fi instead of a complete straight up satire, the documentary style is an excellent mechanism for drawing you into the world, setting up the characters and the situation, and building a sense of contempt and discomfort everything and everyone we are exposed to (with the notable exception of a single Alien character. And his son). Thus, having pulled us in, the action pay-off carries real emotional weight, releases this tension, and cathartic-ally indulges our contempt for the villainous characters. Ultimately, while this film offers some commentary on humanities inhumanity to man (via insect-like alien proxies), and presents in all in an intriguing documentary style, it is, at it's heart, and action film, and should be approached as such if you really want to enjoy it. Which isn't to say that there's no depth at all, but just that as an action vehicle, it's set-up and pay-off is such a high that it's not to be missed. It also has a giant robot sequence which is far more entertaining than both Transformers movies put together. Not that that would be all that difficult...

Is it entertaining? Oh, most definately. Though the first half is really quite harrowing, the last half-an-hour or so is a total riot.

Is it worth watching? Totally.



Inglorious Basterds

Hey, Tarantino, my old friend. You know what I liked about your films? It wasn't the feet, and it wasn't the copious film references, nor was it the sudden, high impact violence. It was the way you told stories through dialogue. So, by that rationale, I must have really loved Deathproof, seeing as about 60% dialogue, right? Well, no, I'm afraid not. I think what was missing mostly from Deathproof was that, drowning in vapid dialogue from vapid characters, there is practically no plot. No tension, no story. Just chicks in a bar/chicks in a diner. Well, good news, Quent old sport, because Basterds is a real return to form, showcasing everything I liked about your earlier films, with only a few of the annoying elements of your later stuff. Are there gratuitous pop culture references? Well, yes, but I didn't even notice most of them, and a lot of them are more about German cinema of the 1940's, which, given the context, is somewhat relevant. Is there sudden impact violence? Oh my yes, and it offers a marked anti-climax to the build up preceding it... kind of like a Sergio Leone Western, really. Are there feet? ...yes. There are feet. But no, forget all that, because what this film has, and what no Tarantino film has really excelled at since Pulp Fiction, are long, drawn out and painfully tense conversations. What makes them so tense? Because whilst a vast amount of time is spent observing the surface tensions, with every single scene there is an additional piece of information that takes every line being said and adds about 30 layers of menace to it. Breezy talk about Milk with a SS officer? There are Jews hiding under the floor boards. That celebrity guessing game where you stick the name of a famous person to your forehead? The participants are a mix of Allied spies and suspicious German officers. Dinner with a refined gentlemen in a Parisian restaurant? You're a Jewish woman sitting across from the man who had your family killed. Scenes like this are so laden with menacing subtext, that every single word and action by every single character carries with it a resonance that reaches far beyond whatever simple word or action has occurred. These scenes are brilliant.
There are annoying parts - I'm not fond of the way Tarantino's gotten into the habit of editing the music against his scenes. But the way it's shot, and the way the story is told, is also interesting, and not just from an aesthetic standpoint (although, just about every set looks wonderful, and the camera's milking every last scene for all their worth). Despite it's setting, this film is shot like a Western. No where is this more prevalent than in the opening scene. A farmer, his daughters, a sweeping vista, trouble approaches from the horizon - 2 black riders heralding a black carriage. The whole thing is so timelessly Western that it informs the rest of the story, even though the plot doesn't quite fit the style - Once Upon a Time in Mexico is possibly the closest parallel I can think of off hand, simply for the way we follow multiple protagonist through parallel and somewhat interconnecting plot-lines - though they never really meet. There's probably a wealth of subtext to delve through here, but as a piece of spectacle, it's quite enjoyable on it's own. Recommended, if you can forgive the travesty that was Death Proof and the snooze-fest that was Kill Bill vol 2.

Is it entertaing? Swings right from entertining to tense to outright distubring.

Is it worth watching? I certainly enjoyed myself, so I think I can reccommend this to any fans of Taratino's, especially his earlier films, and of dialogue-driven thrillers.

Ocular Cancer - A Transformers 2 review

Like most things from the 80's, it seemed pretty awesome at the time. Nostalgia lets us strap a large near-opaque block to our eyes, shielding our present perspectives from the harsh reality: things weren't really that much better in the old days. That said, Transformers were a really awesome little toy, and will forever stand as such. The original Generation 1 show however... knew it's target audience, and gave them exactly what they wanted, and our little 6-14 year old minds lapped it up. With this in mind, Transformers - Revenge of the Fallen, is an incredibly faithful continuation of this vision. It nets everything a strapping young lad on the cusp of adulthood might enjoy, and tosses it on screen like so much flapping fish, hoping that the results will somehow create a coherent piece of action entertainment. However, all this has resulted in is a screen covered in scales and fish slime that slowly sinks into the audience pit, 'til there is no escape. It smells bad, too.

Now, naturally, no one's going to go into this movie expecting a Lean-esque cinematic masterpiece. We're here to watch giant robots kick the shit out of each other with gay abandon, and God Dammit, there's nothing wrong with that. Pure, mindless action is a cornerstone of cinema, and the spectacle that the cinema experience can present is second to none. And, naturally, the effects are top notch, with the same incredibly detailed androids that prevailed in the first film. What is required for a film like this to fulfil its obligation to the audience is very simple: make it fast, make it exciting, make it funny, make it cool. It's a fairly simple formula to follow, and going into an action film expecting mindless fun should be a simple equation. Of course, if I flatter myself to think that you, good reader, have taken note of the title of this review, it would seem that I am less than satisfied with the results of this cinematic experience. What, then, does Transformers 2 do wrong?

Okay. The action is... impressive, to a point. However, it is chaotic, confusing, and not remotely engaging. It's a good example of CGI work... a great one, in fact, just for the sheer amount of movement going on all at once. Sparks fly, fluid sprays, paint chips, and cybernetic eyes go flying in all directions. It's going to make any CG aficionado squirt all sorts of happy fluids over their unlucky companions, but unfortunately, it's clear that nothing else in the film was given more than a cursory glance, before being palmed off to a chimpanzee with a learning disability for quality control. And that is the real problem with this film. Yes, this film is clearly meant for an extremely specific demographic. However, everyone outside of that, or people who are unable to empathize with the mindset of a 13-year old boy with a re-bar stuck through his brain, are going to be left wanting.

Simply put, this film is dreadfully, inescapably juvenile, and will not let you enjoy the spectacle for one second without something reminding you of this fact. And not juvenile in the way that, say, Harry Potter is - which is clearly aimed at a younger market, but doesn't talk down to it's audience. No, this is something clearly trying to appeal to the idiot child, fingers sticky with their own semen (and only semen, if we're lucky), who doesn't know what a character is and doesn't care, who thinks that women can be interesting to look at if they bend in certain ways but has never thought it necessary to listen to one, who thinks that cars are the greatest thing in the universe because they're so damn loud, for whom the punchline of every joke is either a reference to a bodily function, sexual act, or sexual orientation, for whom Egypt (and possibly every nation which isn't theirs) consists of two guys on a camel, pointing at the pyramids and grunting. Not just children, but lowest common denominator. And it'll do spectacularly. And more films in this ilk will be made. And I will have to have a basement dug out under my house, simply so I can hang myself in it.

To make a mindless action film wrong, follow these instructions: make as many sub-plots as you can without developing anyone of them, present half-dimensional characters who exist either to stammer or flop all over the screen, scrape the absolute bottom of the Freidberg/Seltzer slush pile for comedy (which, amazingly, is somehow ALL bottom), create dialogue that somehow manages to swing between boring and excruciating, pad it out so that it's at least twice as long as it's meant to be whilst killing the pace stone dead, and general offend the viewer at every interval to the point where they can no longer indulge in the base pleasures of watching robots punch each other to pieces without wanting to tear their own eyes and fling them at the screen in a last, feeble protest, before - through sheer force of rage-born will - dragging their mangled body to Michael Bey's office and collapsing head-first into his lap, vomiting blood all over his legs, and limply wheezing a final plea of 'Whhhyyyyyy?' as they expire. Michael Bey took this simple pleasure away from me, and for that he deserves at least one eyeless corpse in the genitals. In fact, that sounds like the perfect way to rate this movie.


Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen - One eyeless corpse in Michael Bey's lap out of five.


Is it entertaining? ...I would say no. Maybe for fans of monster trucks, but only if your preferred vantage point is from having your eyeballs stapled to the car door, obscuring any goings-on that aren't a shiny piece of metal.

Is it worth watching? No. No, I don't think so at all.

Man Bites God! Matthew Stover's Blade of Tyshalle

I'm somewhat of a fan of Stover's for his Star Wars books, if nothing else- he seems to be one of the few authors who take writing for the franchise seriously, employing all his considerable skills to write adventures stories that are a little deeper than the standard fantasy fare. Yes, this book contains a lot of the standard epic fantasy trappings, especially in regards to the setting, but at the end of the day, apart from the escapist metaphor, the setting is mostly there for backdrop and plot purposes. This book is not about taking you away on a magical journey with amazing short people who speak like middle-class gentry. It is, rather, a novel constructed around a series of specific philosophical points, connected with a series of monologues, dialogues, and pretty awesome action sequences. This novel, more than any of his others, is probably the most idiosyncratic Stover book, containing many elements and ideas seen in his other novels, collected in one place, turned up to eleven, set on fire and catapulted to the moon. This is Matthew Stover: OFF THE FUCKING CHAIN. That one that he was on. Before. The chain of not-being-as-Stover-y-as-he-could-be.

So, for anyone who's read this man's other books, we should know what that means. Lots of one-liners, gruesome and violent hardcore action scenes with more splatter than an Dario Argento film, author tracts discussing the virtues of independence, self-analysis and deconstruction, myth making, myth breaking, the relationship between illusion and reality, and how they each influence the other, self-image, self-definition, self-centredness, self-pie*, a colossal, apocalyptic finale, and some rather disturbing descriptions of cannibalism. It's fun for all concerned.

I'll quickly detail the plot, because I hate this part – Hari Michaelson/Caine, former superstar 'actor' (actor in this instance being a sort of combination of stage actor and gladiator, who is sent to an alternative world to have crazy adventures, with much of the population back on Earth watching events through a neural uplink in his head. It's like the ultimate in Reality Tv mixed with fantastic escapism – actually be someone else for a little while, someone whos' life is much more exciting, without any personal threat to the audience. The actor, of course, is under personal threat all the time), has assumed managerial control of the broadcast corporation responsible for the creation and distribution of the actor's 'adventures'. When he discovers a virus has been released on the alternative world, he must overcome his greatest obstacles to save the population of Overworld, as well as his family. Stuff happens.

This is actually the sequel to one of Stover's previous novels, Heroes Die, which allows the story to make one of it's larger thematic points: what happens to the hero after he kills the baddies, gets the girl, saves the day and rides off into the sunset? The answer is, naturally, he becomes very bored, depressed, and is also a paraplegic. This is, by and large, not a happy book, and it quickly moves from every-day sort of ennui to full blown horrific tragedy. Structurally, the plot is simply about taking an unhappy, yet somewhat comfortable man, stripping away everything he loves, and seeing if there's anything left. This being a Stover novel, it turns out that what is left is a force of ass-kicking nature, as stripping away a man's comforts is paramount to stripping away his personal delusions, and also freeing him of the fear of consequence. Our protagonist, Caine, was always a bit of a tough cookie, but book makes a point of the fact that at the end of the day, all that separates Caine from any other person is sheer force of will. What stops the novel from being one great Ubermensch tract is the fact that Caine pays and pays and pays for being who he is. There is no real great physical or spiritual reward for such a character being absolutely who he is. All he really has, in the end, is himself. The pros and cons of such an outlook are pretty clearly layed out in the novel, and I don't really think one can consider Caine to be a role model – he is, however, a wholly compelling, flawed character – and a great excuse for some people to get decapitated.

Prose is florid, but sparse – this is not a book for incredibly detailed descriptions of locations or people. It instead strives for a more physical and psychological realism – what is of real interest to the reader in a book like this should be who these people are, why they are who they are, how this informs their actions, and the actions themselves. Locations' physical appearence is less important their the impressions they leave. I, for one, am perfectly content with this, as I often find some writer's obsession with environmental description tedious in the extreme, so while this novel is not utterly bereft of poetic description and detail, neither is it generally all that concerned with it. The writing is crisp, clear, and mostly focussed either on inner-monologues or conversation, giving the proceedings an air of subjectivity – though the perspective moves between first and third person regularly. It ends up creating the effect of a near-epistolary novel, which, given the framing device, makes a lot of sense.

In short, this is a great book for lovers of solid action with a philosophical bent. It's got some clear points to make, and constructs the story and characters around those anchors, giving its points some real impact. It's fun, but it's smart, intense and occasionally heartbreaking fun, and that's probably the best kind.

*There is no self-pie. Please do not attempt auto-cannibalism.

Is it entertaining? Well, I certainly think so. Its most compelling feature is its characters, and given how much they drive the story, that is a very good thing.

Is it worth reading? I would say so, if you're up for something that's clearly devoted to the principles of awesome, but carries a little more bite.