Dune (Extended Cut)

Had I not purchased the extended cut and actually sat down to watch it again (well, watched it through several Metro commutes on my iPhone), Dune might have enjoyed a sentimental place in my memories:  A film that was far from perfect, but was engaging science-fiction.  A lot of time has passed since I last watched the film in its entirety. and I've never seen the full "Alan Smithee" (i.e., David Lynch didn't like it) cut until now.  It turns out there was good reason for Lynch to distance himself from the long (it feels longer than 3 hours) version, but a truncated version doesn't save the film's serious flaws.

There is no getting around it: the film suffers greatly from pacing problems.  The extended version, using matte painting and a voice-over backstory, actually sets a compelling stage for the story.  Right off the bat, the first scene has the Spicing Guild telling the Emperor, offhandedly or pointedly (depending on how you interpret them beating around the bush to get to it) that a person of little interest to the Emperor should be killed.  That suggestion sets about the chain of events for the story, but after that first scene, the film grinds to a halt.  We spend the next 40 (!) minutes showing life for the this house Atreides, the Baron Harkonnen hamming it up like a mad dog, Sting preening like no one else, and foreshadowing aplenty.  If you stay awake, it's mildly interesting, but aside from the Gom Jabbar test (which is excellent), there's very little that actually happens.

After the arrival on Arrakis (aka, Dune), the film speeds up.  In fact, all remaining sequences speed up, as if a producer looked at the film to the point and said we can't afford to spend another hour in setup.  So, the Atreides' "getting to know you/inevitable countdown to betrayal" time is only 30 minutes.  Then we have lots of explosions and the death of Duncan Idaho -- Richard Jordan we hardly got to hear you chew scenery (luckily, Patrick Stewart fills in on that not nicely -- almost a characature of himself).

After the escape of Paul and his mother, in what feels like a hot second, they go from strangers in the Fremen (aka chosen people) camp to revered members.  This is a variant of the pacing problem from the other end -- a little more time and exposition would have been nice so that it doesn't feel incredibly forced that the Fremen ("who don't give their loyalty easily" as Duncan Idaho intones earlier) embrace the foreigners in a few seconds.

Pacing problems aside, the way the religious jihad angle / super-being / prophet from God tale is handled comes off as very fantastical and hasn't aged well.  Given the state of affairs on our planet these days, when the hero of the story warns that anyone who stands against them is standing against God, it's chilling and not very empathetic.  "And his word carries death eternal... to those who stand against the righteous."  Sting's famous, incredulous reply "The righteous??!" sounds a lot like what I'd say against such a person.  The way the prophet's rise is handled comes all too close to too many false ones on our own planet, promising eternal suffering for those who stand against them.  Fear is a staple of most religions, and it is distasteful in every case.  Makes me wish Sting had not just been boasting when he said "I will kill him."

The Time Traveler's Wife

I read The Time Traveler’s Wife years ago, and like all books I loved, I’ve had mixed emotions about seeing it translated to film.  TTTW is told from the first-person perspective from the two lead characters, the titular Clare and the reluctant time traveler Henry.  As with his mutant ability, the episodes are not necessarily told in order, creating foreshadowing and tension.  The book is a story of lifelong romance despite the odds where one partner cannot be counted upon to be there.

Like any translation, the film had to leave out some fleshier subplots in order to streamline the story.  Overall, I found the story to be successful, if a slight lament because the ending was changed.  The final pages of the book were rather sad, but not depressing.  The film changes the end (is it really the end , or they just left off that episode?) to something a little lighter, more wistful, but still very effective.  You really don’t know if Clare and Henry are going to get to embrace, and the payoff works.

It's not really worthwhile to talk about the differences, which could be ticked off in a spreadsheet, but I have a few observations.  One of my favorite scenes in the book is the first one, where Clare has waited her entire young life to meet Henry for the first time in true continuity (he has been coming back in time from the future to visit her for years).  Clare in novel is nearly busting with romantic love, barely able to control her emotions in formally starting her relationship with her future husband -- her future husband who in the timeline hasn't even met her yet.  It's just the right amount of angst, tension, confusion, comedy, and heart.  I was disappointed in the translation to film -- it's a crucial scene to nail and it comes off a little off -- more like a detective mystery as to why she's behaving this way rather than a gushing young woman's first real touch of her true love.  In writing this, I think perhaps the film in parts feels just a little off in the same way.  It's a good effort, but the book will remain the better story.  (Note, WTF on not being available on Kindle!)

The Stars My Destination

The first ten pages of Alfred Bester’s science-fiction classic, “The Stars My Destination” contain more background, history, and consequential menace to the notion of human teleportation than the entirety of the film “Jumper”. Of course, that’s an unfair comparison, as I’ve not read the source material, so the film could be a little thin. But the movie never really addressed WHY there was a secret society of Paladins dedicated to the eradication of Jumpers. In about ten pages, Bester’s novel makes that cause quite clear.

Bester’s novel doesn’t start with teleporting (called Jaunting) as being new, but recounts its history and unforeseen societal ramifications to a brave new world. Transportation industry is nonexistent. Females are kept out of society, imprisoned for their own sake for fear of rape jaunters. The world is a scarier place because of humankind’s new ability, and Bester captures the logical terrifying truth of superhuman abilities to be anywhere with a thought.

As with the best science-fiction, jaunting is only one of the technologies explored and serves as stimulating background to a revenge story. Ingeniously drawn and rich with science-fiction inspiration and a well-paced tale of revenge, escape, and exploration, Bester’s book is unnerving and richly rewarding.

District 9

Borrowing from my insightful wife's mouth, in a word, District 9 is "gross". To her chagrin, I add, "yet strangely intriguing, exciting, intense, and difficult to turn off." The tale of a racist South African's inadvertent involvement (to say the least) in interspecies intrigue is rife with gut-checking gore, unrepentant violence, villains without remorse, thrilling action and moments of emotional resolve. Quite an achievement for first-time director Neill Blomkamp.

Amongst the slew of incredible sequences in the film, I have to admit my favorite moment is just when the main alien "Chris" utters "Fuck!" in his own langugage. I laugh every time as the subtitle flashes on screen, the alien character eliciting a translated, very recognizable emotion as he and Sharlto Copley's human counterpart attempt to rescue their lives. The film contains many of those little moments, sometimes neat, sometimes gory, sometimes tender, that keep you intrigued and watching. Look away, look closer but tough to ignore, District 9 succeeds as an science-fiction film that feels like a contemporary story of racist struggle.

The Terror

The Terror is a lengthy, engrossing interpretation of what might have happened to two ships that disappeared whilst searching for the Arctic passage over two hundred years ago. This being Dan Simmons, that interpretation naturally includes a supernatural beastie and a lot of cold suspense.

The recollection of reading the book (I read it back in December) conjures up a lot of lasting, favorable impressions. One impression was that it was, in the end, worth getting through. There were several times when I wondered if Dan had written over 700 pages in this tale just because he would be embarrassed to put out a book without at least 700 pages in it. His adherence to detail and the characterizations involved allow me to still feel a chill thinking of the British sailors trying to find the Northwest passage, instead being marooned above the Arctic circle, in incredibly harsh conditions.

The introduction of the monster leant a larger aspect of the story, without entirely interfering with the eventual outcome, and yet providing room for maneuvering in the tale of an expedition that was never found. Simmons' talents lie in introducing strange elements and weaving them into "normal" situations. His ability to do this creates that atmosphere of creepy suspense that has made him a formidable horror novelist, and one of my favorite science-fiction authors.

This lengthy fictionalized interpretation of the fateful expedition, in retrospect, felt like a perfect book to read during a long snowstorm, comfortably huddled under a warm blanket.

Kick-Ass

Kick-Ass is one of the best movies of the year, and a breath of fresh air to the superhero film. Uncompromising and improving upon its graphic novel source material, director Matthew Vaughn takes the so-real-it-hurts-a-lot tale of real-life superheros without powers and transposes it to the screen with gusto.

Although the titular character dominates the screen, it is Chloe Moretz' performance as Hit Girl that steals every scene and is destined to be an iconic figure. Within the Joseph Campbell universe of heroes, she is the trickster, the ID of the audience, gleefully and innocently dispensing ruthless justice with the glee and occasional comical cuss of a precocious 11-year-old.

In one scene, Hit Girl saves Kick-Ass (from his own foolish endeavor) in a bravura display of wire-fu, spectacular gun-play, with a peppy Japanese rock soundtrack in the background. The scene is punctuated with her father (a totally game and awesome Nicholas Cage) saving her life with a well-timed sniper bullet. Were it not for that head shot, Hit Girl's smile, banter, and self-assuredness would have been splattered on the wall. And that is the careful balance that Vaughn works from beat-to-beat in the movie: funny-to-action-packed-to-intense-to-uncomfortably-dire. For a second you are laughing with Hit Girl and the next embarrassed that you forgot (as she did) that this is real and she is 11 and could die. It's a wild emotional roller coaster that unerringly works.

Inception

You have the spectacular chases, the bombastic explosions, the zero-gravity fights. You have a visually impactful and entertaining film. You have the romance and emotional tale. What sets Inception apart, what makes it one of the three game-changing films of my lifetime (that list fills out with Star Wars and The Matrix) is that it is complex framework that remains intelligent, busy, and accessible throughout. It is intimidatingly well-written, and the end result of all this together in a film is awe.

Christopher Nolan’s similarly intelligent, complex thriller Mememto, which put him on the map and began his mainstream career, feels like an undergraduate project compared to Inception. With a bigger budget came not only bigger effects, but a bigger, more complex storyline. From conception to fruition, the script Nolan developed took him 10 years, and it is easy to understand that the time spent wasn’t idle.

One of the basic rules of time passage in the film is that 5 minutes dreaming equates to one hour of time in the dream. When master extractor Cobb’s (DiCaprio) team plants a dream-within-a-dream, it means that the 2nd-level dream time is likewise equivalent to 5 minutes of his dream time in the 1st-level dream. And events that happen in the dream must be coordinated precisely with the two levels. Let’s not even added a third just yet and think of the ramifications, but the film does and beyond, and when it delivers in synchronicity, you marvel at the effort to conceive such coordination. And this is just one aspect of the framework of the tale.

The film contains a lot of exposition that is skillfully interwoven into intense, plot-developing action sequences. It never feels overlong or tedious. The information is dispensed in short, packed bursts that teeter on the edge of overload each time, like the main character’s totem spinning wheel, and then the move thrusts forward with spectacle and action to allow the audience to catch up while still contemplating each new layer of complexity added. A couple times, a character will ask a question that the audience will appreciate, as when Ellen Page’s Ariadne asks “We’re going into whose subconscious now?” The audience laughs in both the comic timing of the delivery and appreciation of the moment of clarification. An earlier moment of uncertainty about the rules is also played to higher laughs earlier at Ariadne’s expense – Nolan’s script not forgetting to have fun with the complex world he’s set up.

Although I won’t reveal any of the secrets of the film, I will remark that the end, the resolution of the caper itself was one of the more moving and altruistic methods of corporate espionage. The inextricable mark made on, well, the mark is just as interesting as Cobb’s tale.

Of particular notice to me was Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s performance as Cobb’s right-hand man Arthur, although singling out an average performance would be a more difficult task considering the amazing cast. The actors as a whole bought in to the concept, and probably had to read it several times before getting a handle on it. Inception doesn’t need 3D to dazzle, to amaze, to be the best film of this millennium. But it will need repeated viewings to peel back the layers of this dense, astounding, satisfying journey. And I look forward to it.

Avatar

Avatar is a spectacular film whose main flaw is the perception that the plot is a short-cut recycling of a more familiar story. The protagonist is a member of a species who is invading the territory of a nature-worshipping people, who infiltrates an foreign culture, becomes accepted as one of their own, admits he was a spy, decides to ally himself with his new people, and attempts to fight off the greedy invasion force.

Dances With Wolves, the well-known 1990 Best Film Oscar winner, was not the first to use the fish-out-of-water theme, but did it most recently, most memorably, and with a great sense of tragedy. Because this has been so entrenched in our cinematic consciousness, it’s difficult to not see the overt similarities between Avatar and Dances, and feel that director and writer James Cameron took a short-cut to originality.

I chuckle to myself in writing that, despite the pervading feeling that it is true. What is also true – before I get back to the plot – is that all Cameron has done with Avatar is to create the most enthralling and unique movie-going experience I have ever seen.

The much-ballyhooed cutting-edge digital effects (presented in 3D, as I saw) are worth every accolade they have been given. It is a breathtaking experience -- yes a true film-going experience -- to be immersed in the picture that lasts 2 hours and 40 minutes, not once did I glance at my watch. You can have all the visuals you want, but you can’t get attention buy-in like that without some crisp storytelling. I can’t think of a throw-away scene or overlong scene that didn’t move the story along or add critical background information. In other words, Avatar almost feels a little tight.

Consider Dances told the epic journey of a man in search of himself on the plains of the old west, meeting alien cultures, identifying with them, and ultimately fighting with them and breaking from his own. Avatar has all that, and also has to infuse and explore an entirely new and incredible world, alien species galore, alien technology, and, oh yeah, the “Avatar” technology itself of embedding human consciousness in an actual physical body of an alien. In order to do all that Cameron’s imagination demanded, he basically had teams inventing the film techniques for the movie. Avatar defines the word epic, and given all that it sets out to do in such a short time frame, this movie is impeccably and spectacularly told.

In the age of DVD special features, it can be easier to edit some of the background and story-building from the main release. This gives the true film enthusiasts an avenue to see the director’s cut and also allow the average film-goer accessibility to the story without feeling that they have to wonder if they’ll be able to make it through without a hasty visit to the restroom.

Cameron has done this before with Aliens. I ultimately thought the thirty added minutes of footage was unnecessary and rightly cut from the theatrical release. The deleted scenes shown in the context of the film gave more substance to the story, but detracted ultimately from the pace. Inserting the scenes of Newt and her family on the planet before they stumbled upon the aliens gave you more background and connection (somewhat) with her, but delayed the entrance of the major baddies by a good 15 minutes. It felt way too long before anything really happened in the film.

The other most notorious case (to me) is what I have referred to as the Raping of Riddick, where central plot points were edited from the theatrical release of Chronicles of Riddick. As I wrote back then, the DVD restored the scenes, and the logic of the film without disrupting the the pace, resulting in one of the best films of the decade. (I was contemplating calling it one of the top 10 science fiction films ever, but then I started mentally trying to rank and catalog and just got too weary.)

I digress mightily, but Avatar’s plot feels a little short-cutted or cribbed because there just wasn’t enough time to tell all that needs be told in the space of a single seating. I can feel the gamble between the director telling his story and ultimately losing much of his audience and profit by making it overlong. This film is rumored to be the most expensive ever made and therefore needs repeat viewings to get the most return. Some sacrifices surely had to be made, but I can happily say that nothing that jeopardizes the cohesion of the film was removed.

Cameron embraces the Campbellian archetypes as George Lucas did. Reading such references as Myth and the Movies you will recognize many of the central characters from the hero’s journey in the tale -- "the trickster," "the shadow," "the hero”, “the threshold guardian”, and realize that the epic tales of the journey we love have used the same formula, tweaked, over and over again. This one is in 3D, is a true film adventure and awesome to behold.

Terminator Salvation

Although we finally get to see the grown-up soldier John Connor, played by Christian Bale, Terminator Salvation is not about John Connor, nor has the series ever been. He is the protagonist, but it is the terminators themselves, both playing the heroes and villains, that dominate the screen. In the fourth installment, we stick to roughly the same formula that has emerged since the second film -- both good and bad machines. One to hunt Connor, one to rescue him. The window dressing has changed, and the movie has moved solidly into an apocalyptic future, but the theme remains the same.

The compelling actor Sam Worthington plays the good terminator (you aren't going to improve over Kristanna Loken), a person who has been willinging (and unwillingly) transformed into a kind of hybrid human/terminator. Why? That's the question that Connor tries to answer while compromising to help save his future father, Kyle Reese, using the hybrid's help. Formulaic, fun, and just what you expect. If you are surprised by any of the revelations, or how the film ends, you really haven't watched this series very closely.

Aliens

Decidedly different from the masterful sci-fi horror original, Aliens in its own right is a thrilling action/suspense sequel that launched the series -- really re-created the series in its own image -- and took no prisoners. Boasting a colorful and memorable cast, the film hits all the right emotional notes. Sigourney Weaver owns the character Ripley, but she has plenty of talent to work off. From Michael Biehn's reluctant corporal-turned-commander to Jenette Goldstein's tough-as-nails Vasquez, to Bill Paxton's quote-making-masterpiece as doomsayer Private Hudson, to Lance Henrikson's quiet but emotional performance as the android Bishop, you feel for the characters and their hopeless situation of escaping from hundreds of Aliens.

James Cameron's ultimate strength remains in weaving memorable characters to a well-paced plot and action. (Did I mention James Horner's score is awesome?) Once caveat is that length does not necessarily make a film better, so I'll have to disagree with him that his 1991 director's cut (157 minutes) is better than the original theatrical cut (135 minutes). I have to side with the studio that the twenty minutes of footage actually serve to draw out the lengthy beginning of the film -- you don't even see an Alien until well-over an hour in. While this works in Jaws, I didn't feel it worked to make a better film here. In the original, Ridley is rescued, you get her situation, get the urgency of the colony, and bam-- we are on our way. Forty-five minutes of tension is plenty before all-hell breaks loose, but either way, Aliens still stands up as one impressive piece of action-filmmaking.

The Rise of Endymion

In Dan Simmons' concluding book to his saga, the Catholic Church has become complicit with a devilishly deceiving machinisation (granting immortality) in ruling billions across the galaxy, and the young savior's ultimate solution is one that is truly horrifying and brilliant at the same time. Though I finished reading the book back in July, the last hundred pages still resonate, and the wistful pleasure and knowledge of finality that the story's teller feels at the satisfying end encapsulates the author's vision of the galaxy, or rather what it should be, quite nicely.

I'm only sad that it is over, but to want it to go on and on would ironically be against one of the central messages of the book.

VALIS

Philip K. Dick for me is at once one of the most creative science-fiction minds of our times, translating cinematically into such notable movies as Blade Runner, Total Recall, A Scanner Darkly and Minority Report, and yet often nearly inaccessible as a writer for his rather schizophrenic style. Of course, when you are dealing with often first-person themes of hallucinations, memory replacements, and drug use, the effect is understandable.

So, although I have read several of his works, I have been hesitant to dive into VALIS until my old friend, pop-culture fascination, peaked my interest. Although I purchased the book a couple years ago, it languished on my "to read" shelf (that I will say has finally been reduced in size due to my Metro commute, thank-you-very-much) until a recently. Akin to how I found Hyperion thanks to a reference in a movie-blog, VALIS has been featured a couple of times in this season of Lost as reading material for the mysterious, ruthless, and ever-intriguing Ben. With the producers' knack for dropping hints about the show on-screen, I figured it was time to dust off the book and see what fiction interests the fictionally diabolical.Here's the Wikipedia description of the novel:

VALIS is the first roman à clef (a novel describing real-life behind a facade of fiction) science fiction novel. The novel, published in 1981, details the different hallucinations Philip K. Dick experienced in May of 1974. The title is an acronym for Vast Active Living Intelligence System, Dick's gnostic vision of one aspect of God.

If you think by reading the one-line summary that the book is going to be weird, you are right. What I wasn't prepared for was the remarkably clearly-told story of a man slowly coming to realize that his insanity may just be in fact a rational man in an irrational world. It is trippy, crazy, intelligent, and surprisingly laugh-out-loud funny (when you are dealing with talking to 'god' sometimes the humor writes itself -- I was reminded often of Christopher Moore). Even more so, some of the observations (there is a lengthy appendix of notes) are remarkably fresh, fun, and stimulating -- and this is coming from someone who has read a LOT of religious and mythological history. I must confess I found the end surprisingly moving and disturbing, wishing there was a sequel. (There are two other books in his final 'god' trilogy, but are only related in theme.)

In short, a great 70's counter-culture companion piece to Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal.

Hyperion

I have to admit, I never heard of the Hugo-award winning book, Hyperion, until Cinematical posted a story about how the series was going to be made into film. Mostly, this observation about the main 'anti-hero' of the book intrigued me:

If you click through to Variety, be warned that their plot description is woefully inadequate. In particular, their deadpan reference to "a monster called the Shrike, which impales people on metal trees" is the rough equivalent of describing HAL 9000 as "a computer that locks people out of spaceships" -- accurate, but pointlessly so. The nature of the Shrike is a whole lot more interesting than that.

I found empathy with the comparison, mostly because I know far too many simpletons who think that "There Will Be Blood" is about blood, and "No Country for Old Men" is about... well who knows.My interest was already spiked, but often I'll just wait for the movie, except that one of the comm enters observed:

Since Simmons novels are among my favorite works of literature (and I teach literature for a living), I am certainly apprehensive about any potential adaptation, particularly one that will reduce two enormous novels into a 2-3 hour movie. I'm guessing the project's screwed from the get-go.

Both increasing my interest and my dread, I decided I better get the book. Needless to say, I was more than impressed.

Hyperion is set in the distant (~700 years) future, where humans are spread out in the "Hegemony of Man" amongst many connected worlds in the "Web". "Old Earth" (meaning our Earth) no longer exists, thanks to the "Big Mistake". Yeah, oops. Anyway, seven pilgrims are set on a voyage to see The Shrike, the aforementioned killing machine. What follows are the backstories of the seven pilgrims, told by each, as they set about their journey. Think a giant episode of "Lost", only most of the action happens in the flashbacks.

As the flashbacks all are compelling in different ways. I was impressed and moved the way Simmons managed to take the tales, all dealing in one way or another with the Shrike, and come at it from such disparate and interesting angles. Religion, paternalism, lust, love, technology, and the supernatural are all represented, all dealt with style, wit, and often moving sequences. The science-fiction world he has created is both just a backdrop to the characters and yet wonderfully interwoven and important to the fabric of the story. I'm really quite astounded by the breadth of emotion and topic covered in this setup story.

And it is a setup. Hyperion is about the journey, about how they got there, not about what happens next. (That's Fall of Hyperion, the conclusion.) If you haven't figured out this is already one of my top-ten favorite books ever, then I'll just confirm that now.

That all said, you should go and read it rather than wait for the film. Films? Nope, just one:

Today we got word that Warner Bros. has greenlit a single-film adaptation of the first two books (Hyperion and The Fall of Hyperion). It's to be written by Trevor Sands, about whom we know very little except that he is apparently working on a number of different sci-fi projects in various stages of development. Making the two novels into one movie makes sense in a way, since they really comprise one story and the ending of Hyperion is an enormous cliffhanger. On the other hand, the books are so huge in scope and contain so many different perspectives (Simmons claims to have been inspired by The Canterbury Tales) that they seem better suited for a season of a TV show with each episode focusing on a different character. According to the Variety piece, Sands plans to take "a selective approach to the two novels' multiple points of view in a way that manage[s] to coherently and unconfusingly tell the story." Uh, I guess we'll see about that.

Skeptical would be the key word for me. I can easily see how this (just Hyperion) could be made very well in a six-part mini-series. Heck you could get real clever and do a half-season. But one single movie to cover both books? Madness. Madness.