by Nick Lamont
And our good friend Nick Lamont surprised us with a photo series including these mysterious folk by the names Alicia, Jessica, Scott and Monty the Cat. Enjoy his work and check out his first photo series for the site here
by Jody Coughlin
I watched Anderson Cooper’s AC 360 on CNN recently and I really don’t care what some people might say, I think he (Cooper) delivers some very decent, fair reporting laced with a refreshing amount of basic human compassion and common sense. He’s my kind of boy, that Mr. Cooper, and I have been watching his coverage of the earthquake in Haiti from the start.
One night in particular he reported on a story about a five year old boy who was rescued from the rubble in Haiti. I believe his name is Monley. Well, if you are following the story as I have been you would know that Monley was rescued after 8 days under the rubble with no food or water. Amazing. Yet, after he was reasonably back onto his feet he was sent from the makeshift hospital that took him in and into the world to live in a tent with his brothers and his uncle. A vacant look in his eyes said everything he didn’t seem to be able to say with words of his own as he was being filmed for the news story. Both his mom and dad died in the quake. The last I heard Monley did not know the truth about his parents. His uncle didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth about their demise. I don’t blame him. That would be a tough call by any stretch of the imagination.
Essentially, Monley’s recovery from dehydration and starvation came within days of proper care and treatment. The grief and sorrow and challenges ahead of this boy will not come nearly as easily and it will take years to work through the kind of pain and grief he will undoubtedly suffer as time goes on, I think to myself.
Then, I flipped the channel to CTV and there it was. The opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. A source of national pride indeed. At first, I watched with a mild form of skepticism. There were girls dressed in what looked like white, space-suit mini skirts, carrying the various banners that stated the names of all the various countries as they marched around. Not bad, I guess. Well… Then again. Never mind. Back to CNN.
This time, on CNN, the story was about a girl who had to have surgery to remove chunks of cement from her brain. She had spent her recovery in what she thought was a hospital in the United States only to discover she was actually aboard a floating hospital (the USS Comfort) and she was still in Haiti. He father could not afford the fare to pick her up so a rescue worker took her to her father instead. As she left the ship she beheld the destruction of her country, her city and her home. She found out her sister and mom both died in the earthquake. She reportedly didn’t remember anything at all about the earthquake. The sequence ended with this young girl, a child, sitting on a stool clutching a bag of belongings. I imagine she was trying to make sense of it all. There was just so much for her to take in at once.
Then I flipped back to the coverage of the Olympics. The marching around was all but over. The team from the country of Georgia sported black arm bands in honor of the athlete who died (yes, died) in training practice on the luge just hours earlier that same day. He was traveling almost 150 kms/hour on the luge when he wrecked and suffered fatal injuries. But, the games must go on, right? I can’t imagine how the remaining athletes from this country feel right about now.
Anyway, on with the story. I didn’t see the entire event, but just before the games officially opened there was a performance art show which, I must say, was pretty impressive. The gist of it was about the beauty and diversity of Canada, the landscapes, the various cultures, our penchant for down playing our successes and our tendencies to always say please, thank-you and you are welcome. Well, obviously that part impressed me and I wondered if maybe I was too harsh in declaring that the Olympics should be cancelled. Maybe, but I doubt it.
Back to CNN. This time around Cooper was covering an event where the surviving Haitians had gathered in front of the Presidential Palace. There were hundreds of Haitians there. Thousands of Haitians, probably. They had gathered to recognize and mourn the loss of loved ones and they had also gathered to sing and worship and lift their voices as though they were declaring their presence and faith in the face of the devastation that surrounded them. They were making a joyful noise. There was hope in their song and hope on their faces.
Back to the Olympics. Again I saw hope as people watched the artistic performance. From moment to moment drapes and sheets of some otherworldly material were transformed into fields of unending wheat or high peaked mountain ranges. It was beautiful to behold on television and most likely it was breathtaking to witness first hand.
I began to tally it all up in my mind. I saw hope in Haiti and hope in Vancouver. It seemed like the whole world was feeling a little hopeful within the last 24 hours starting with the poorest and most troubled and finishing with the most fortunate and privileged. It was a common thread. One that I liked. I had seen this kind of thing before. I saw it when Barak Obama was elected. Everybody was happy that day. Well, mostly everyone.
I think there is a lesson I need to learn in all of this. On the one hand, we need to celebrate our life here on this amazing planet and on the other hand, if we don’t help the person next to us when they are in need, then eventually hope is lost and there is nothing to celebrate. It seems to me there could and should be a natural sequence happening here. Help those in need first and celebrate second. It could work, couldn’t it? But it doesn’t work that way. It never has and probably never will.
The endings of these two stories are very different, if my imagination serves me correctly. Today the athletes probably woke up to a healthy meal and a bright and sunny future. They have worked hard to gain such an achievement as being a part of the Olympics, I suppose, and they will be catered to because of their achievements. Is there anything wrong with that? I don’t know. Probably not.
In Haiti however, Monley and the young girl who lost her mom and sister woke up to a grumbling belly, you can be sure, and a future that seems anything but bright and sunny. I know for certain they don’t deserve that. Nobody does.
I don’t know why I am so doggedly comparing the Olympics to the crisis in Haiti, but that is where my mind goes lately. Maybe it is my own personal need to sort this stuff out. Maybe I just relish the idea of pointing out the obvious. Or maybe I am just hopeful that things will balance out somewhere along the line.
a collaborative article from Unfiltered Smoke and Post-Rock Love Affair
Preface by Isaac Thompson:
In the interest of expanding horizons and becoming major-league ass-kickers, we’ve decided to try something new. We’ve teamed up with Tiffany Naugler and Daniel Nightingale from the incendiary music blog Post-Rock Love Affair to document The Great Sabatini as they touch down in Halifax, N.S. on their east coast tour in support of their newest record: Sad Parade Of Yesterdays.
we met up with Steve (drums, vocals) and Sean (guitar, vocals) Sabatini before the show and they were kind enough to let me interview them. Tiffany recorded the conversation and it’s posted below.
They were really cool chaps, even after I retardedly flubbed their band name during the interview ( I referred to them as “the Great Santini”, which is not a kick ass metal band from Montreal but rather a Robert Duvall movie. That’s pretty dumb of me I know, but I will say this: if Robert Duvall did have a metal band, they would be best damn metal band in town!). The Great Sabatini, however, are a most excellent metal band from Montreal and their new record completely owns.
Sad Parade Of Yesterdays is a massive slab of heavy grooves and ear-blasting energy. The record sounds crisp and polished while maintaining an unhinged rawness. It contains some startling combinations of styles. The heavy metal barrage often gives way to trippy explorations and moments of beauty. There is a running monologue throughout the record containing some really interesting snippets about man, nature and machines. The record also boasts some very creative song titles (my personal favourite being Rosemary’s Abortion).
What follows is taken from post-rockloveaffair.blogspot.com
many thanks to Tiff, Dan, The Great Sabatini and Robert Duvall.
post-rock love affair:
As mentioned in our last post, PRLoveAffair worked with Isaac Thompson, from Unfiltered Smoke, to bring you an exclusive interview with the guys from The Great Sabatini.
We met outside of Gus’ Pub, in the cold, and had a little chit chat while the opening bands set up and did some sound checking…
After the interview, we all piled into Gus’ for one of the loudest and most energtic shows I have seen at that bar for a LONG time!
The night opened up with Cicada, from Halifax. They certainly had an interesting setup, with a hand drum and a pretty full looking drum set (I counted at least 5 cymbals and 3 toms, if not more), plus guitar and bass. They were definitely of the modern metal variety, and the first half of their set did sound a little generic – over technical, as some bands are prone to – too many scales and textbook drum patterns with a lack of melody.
But the second half of the set actually improved, with the band at one point actually pulling out something that sounded like a standard chord progression from an AC/DC song. A good contrast before plunging back into heavier territory. All 3 members at the front of the stage provided vocals of varying styles, which was nice to hear after too many one note, one scream lead vocalists. Over all the crowd dug them and they put on an energetic set.
Video:
Next up was Fistfight, another Halifax staple. These guys have been around for a while and really know there stuff. They clearly came from the same territory as Cicada, but they were able to stretch the sound a little further – the riffs were clearer and catchier, with more defined chords and melodies. Their lead singer really worked the crowd (and the growing mosh pit) and had a really wide range of vocal technique – sometimes deep, deep growls, and sometimes higher pitched screams that really worked well adding texture to the music. Clearly the vocals are not just an after thought to the music.
Their sound was definitely unique and it was a good to hear a heavy band with their own identity, instead of a copy of copy. Over all the progression of bands made sense, as Fist Fight pumped up the crowd for the Great Sabatini, who would prove to take the typical metal sound and expand it even further.
Video:
After another short change over (metal bands never seem to be able to share gear), Montreal’s The Great Sabatini took the stage. The crowd was still pretty pumped up from the previous bands, and the Great Sabatini didn’t let the energy down. Once again the band started from a very much standard metal origin, but branched out even further. The music had a good range of tempos, starting from stoner/doom slow to a good Iron Maiden/Metallica speed, which is pretty much the top range for me for metal. The breakdowns and song structures clearly showed that these guys had a huge range of influences, from Tool to Neurosis – heavy, thrashy metal riffs with deep screams would transition to ethereal, washing post-rock guitars; dissonant distortion blast beats would switch up into chunky rock beats, and there was even the tiniest hint of dub and progressive rock floating around.
Once again multiple members handled vocals with a pretty decent range – not as far as Fist Fights singers but everything worked. Only screaming with no singing might seem to work against a band who incorporate metal with rock and experimental components, but in this case it worked – heavy riffs warranted heavy vocals, and spacier breakdowns held their own thanks to tight instrumental work from two guitars and bass.
Over all all three bands kept the crowd majorly riled up: there were at least 3 stage dives – with at least one ending up face first on the floor, oops – and one or two crowd surfs, and no one went home disappointed. The Great Sabatini continue on with shows in Trenton, Moncton, and PEI.
Video:
_____________________
Interview – Isaac Thompson
Video – Tiffany Naugler
Video Edits - Daniel Nightingale
Photos – Tiffany Naugler
Show Review – Daniel Nightingale
To get a better understanding of Tattoo’s, this weeks guest allows CRAIGNESS! to tattoo his name into her leg.. The one and only Rock-a-billy superstar of the Nova Scotia Tattoo scene Helena Darling!
Helena Darling has been tattooing since 2007 and has been working in studios on learning the art of tattooing since she was 16. She is currently located out of her home studio in Dartmouth N.S.
She has a well rounded portfolio and is eager to do custom pieces.
by Jason Wilson
The Lady Vanishes (1938)
Directed by Alfred Hitchcock
Screenplay by Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder
Based on the story “The Wheel Spins” by Ethel Lina White
Starring Margaret Lockwood, Michael Redgrave, Paul Lukas, Dame May Whitty, Naunton Wayne and Basil Radford.
If anyone becomes a film buff, or even casual enthusiast of cinema, it is impossible to ignore Alfred Hitchcock. It is easy, however, to look past much of his work because of titles like Psycho, Rear Window, North by Northwest, The Birds and Vertigo. Those five films were the ones I immediately thought of when I heard his name. They are linked to his icon’s stature and some of his earlier films, particularly those he made in England before emigrating to the United States, get lost in the shuffle.
Obviously, film historians have plowed through his earlier work but not everyone has the time, resources or gumption to do that. Luckily, Criterion has made a few of his less mainstream films available, though some are now out of print. The Lady Vanishes was actually re-released in a two-disc set a couple years ago and is still readily available now. It seems that out of the gate, Criterion was more interested in the movie as a stand-alone and neglected the special features until re-releases down the road. Seven Samurai got the upgrade and a nearly bare-bones edition of The Lady Vanishes did as well.
The following review will contain some spoilers, so read on with caution.
The opening sequence in the film introduces two lads named Caldicott and Charters. They are proper, slightly snooty and massive cricket fans. Ostensibly, they seem to be the protagonists of the film, only their shenanigans serve as a light introduction to their surroundings. They are holed up in a hotel waiting, along with all the other patrons, for a delayed train to London. Caldicott and Charters pop up now and again and serve mostly as a bumbling comic relief, though the movie is never all that bleak to begin with. There is an air of whimsy about it perpetuated largely by leading man Michael Redgrave.
Redgrave (father of actresses Vanessa and Lynn) plays Gilbert, a musicologist full of smarm and wit. He is handsome but his charms are less defined than his snide and selfish attitude. For the early scenes, Gilbert is more of a pest than either a protagonist or antagonist, though it is obvious from the first scene he shares with Margaret Lockwood’s Iris that he will be her knight in shining armour by the end of it. Maybe it wasn’t so predictable at the time of release, but 70 years later plot conventions have a tendency to be repetitive so even though it is a precursor to many similar films, I saw it later. This is not a complaint. I’d rather twists occur naturally instead of being forced (M. Night Shyamalan since Signs for instance) and at least Gilbert’s ascension to protector and co-conspirator comes across as organic and believable. To have it happen any other way would not have made sense.
Which brings us to Iris. Iris complains about music being too loud in the room above her at the hotel and Gilbert gets kicked out of his room only to forcibly shack up in her room when he figures out who ratted on him. She relents under pressure and he gets his room back. She, naturally, hates him and his boorish behaviour. The next day, awaiting the train, Iris takes a potted plant off the noggin. It was pushed from a window above her by an unknown person. Iris befriends an old lady by the name of Miss Froy who helps her to her spot on the train. They converse, have tea and Iris has a nap. She awakes to discover Miss Froy is gone and no one in her carriage or on the rest of the train seems to have any knowledge of the older lady. Did the plant cause her to hallucinate or is there a conspiracy afoot?
Obviously it’s a conspiracy. Hitchcock plays with the possibility that she may have dreamed it all and that Iris is in fact concussed but the clues slowly mount until the players are in place and the audience knows who is on which side. And here comes a spoiler! The doctor, whom Gilbert and Iris had confided in (you can always trust a doctor!) is the primary conspirator on the train who abducted Miss Froy. He is accompanied by a woman dressed as a nun. This is the point of contention I have with the film along with the fact that Miss Froy was a spy…well who suspects the elderly, I guess. The nun, on a dime, turns on the doctor and other cohorts to help Gilbert and Iris save Miss Froy (this is still before the climax of the film). Her motivation seems to be that she didn’t sign on to be an accomplice to murder. It seems too convenient and more of a plot contrivance than a true development of character. While the relationship between Gilbert and Iris develops organically, the nun is barely more than a cardboard cutout.
Then again, the specifics about why Miss Froy was captured, what the doctor wants, the political motivations, are all intentionally vague, glossed over or left out altogether. The why is unimportant as Iris herself is mostly ignorant to the reasons but is simply trying to save her new friend regardless of the situation. So the audience is left in the dark much like the protagonist and is left to enjoy the banter and tension without thinking too hard. It’s a fluffy film with a darker subtext of political oppression. The Lady Vanishes is an enjoyable effort but lacks the gravitas and intensity that made Hitchcock’s later work so powerful and impressive. It’s still worth a watch because it is very entertaining and has some amusing characters, though others are underused and just there (though the judge avoiding public scorn is punished for his cowardice, so he does have purpose).
Among the special features is a featurette narrated by Hitchcock scholar Leonard Leff. He goes in depth about the making of the film and the distinction of calling Hitchcock a thrill maker. Hitchcock apparently was seldom regarded as an artist in those days and received little funding or respect despite his films being financially successful. Leff provides some fascinating information, but his delivery is fairly bland.
He says the movie was filmed almost entirely on a 90-foot set acting as the train. Hitchcock used the same carriage chambers over and over again and otherwise used miniatures and models for outside shots, especially noticeable in the opening sequence at the hotel.
Leff also acknowledges much of what I considered shortcomings and while knowing a lot of the misinformation or lack of information entirely was on purpose, it doesn’t exactly improve my thoughts on those aspects. While Hitchcock might not have wanted to dwell on the minutia of the details, I would have liked to have known why these people were thrust into such a dire string of events. The Lady Vanishes is still exceptionally entertaining and if you enjoy Caldicott and Charters, you are treated to a feature length movie with them at the center called Crook’s Tour. It had never been released on home video until the Criterion two-disc of the Lady Vanishes.
Rounding it out is a commentary track from film historian Bruce Eder, a couple new essays and excerpts from a radio interview between Hitchcock and filmmaker Francois Truffaut (whose 400 Blows is coming up soon in the Criterion Conquest!).
I encourage you to check out The Lady Vanishes unless you hate old films for some irrational reason. “Eww, black and white!” Otherwise it’s worth a glance just to see Hitchcock in action years before his biggest films cemented him as the icon of suspense he is to this day.
Next up on the Criterion Conquest: Federico Fellini’s Amarcord
by Brent Braaten
(as usual, click to enlarge)
by Matt Jones
In the first Futurama comeback movie, Bender’s Big Score, one of the best jokes is the recurring gag item, Torgo’s Executive Powder. A thinly veiled jab at Fox for its perceived mismanagement of Futurama, Torgo’s is made of ground-up executives, and is said to have “a-million-and-one uses.” That may be a-million-and-one more than non-ground-up executives.
What is an executive, anyway? We hear the term thrown around a lot, but all too often executive, producer and many other titles are all thrown together. Let’s agree on this: an executive is a management member of a company assigned to watch over a certain sector of said company. The lower executives answer to the chief executive officer (CEO), who is one of the highest authorities above the other executives.
Now, let’s not get bogged down with stereotypes and ignorance. There are probably many executives who are very well-suited to the work they do. There are probably many who do genuinely good work and reap positive results for both their superiors and their staff. But we never hear about those executives. Beyond a company newsletter, you’ll never see the headline, “Executive does great work.” What you will see are headlines about how executives, through their effect on creative talents, cause difficulties in the entertainment industry. And that is our focus today: executives in the entertainment and creative industries.
The biggest problem is this: executives care most and almost only about the bottom line; they care about how much money is being made. Being creative and artistic does not necessarily improve that bottom line, and similarly, focusing on the bottom line does not necessarily result in interesting or exciting art. An executive’s directive to alter creative work to make it more profitable can have disastrous effects.
NBC, The Tonight Show and the greatest comedy duo of all time, Zucker and Ebersol
Ostensibly, NBC’s current problems are a result of low ratings for both Conan O’Brien’s The Tonight Show and Jay Leno’s prime time show — particularly Leno’s, which was hurting the lead-ins for local news shows. The executive solution: move Leno back to late night and move O’Brien back to late, late night. What the executives didn’t foresee, or didn’t care about, was that O’Brien would see this move as cutting the legs off The Tonight Show franchise, and he would not stand for it (so to speak). NBC and O’Brien have reached a settlement, and Leno is expected to return to The Tonight Show after the Olympics.
Dick Ebersol, NBC executive since time immemorial and currently in charge of sports, has been very vocal about O’Brien’s poor ratings, describing him as an “astounding failure.” Ebersol further declared that he had personally offered to help O’Brien increase his ratings, but was rebuked.
Can O’Brien really be blamed for not taking advice from Dick Ebersol?
Ebersol was one of the original creators of Saturday Night Live (SNL), but after Lorne Michaels left in 1980, the program entered into what some fans refer to as the Dark Ages of SNL. Ebersol soon took over the show and attempted to salvage it. After consistently low ratings and clashes with writers and cast members over the tone Ebersol wanted for the show, as well as accusations that he did not understand comedy (particularly the type of comedy that SNL produced), Michaels was brought back to save the franchise.
Ebersol has also been heavily criticized for his approach to Olympic Games coverage, and he presided over a period where NBC lost the rights to broadcast the NFL, MLB and NBA, among others. And, to top that off, he was also one of the driving forces behind the disastrous XFL, which produced record low ratings.
So in what way, precisely, is Dick Ebersol an expert on comedy or high ratings?
Ebersol’s comments did serve to take some of the heat off NBC CEO and President Jeff Zucker. The same Zucker who went to Harvard at the same time as O’Brien, and was the butt of numerous O’Brien-led Harvard Lampoon pranks. The same Zucker who has the final word at NBC.
Zucker, Ebersol and the rest of NBC’s executives appear to be consciously choosing to ignore the growing pains that come with any new show. It takes time to cultivate an audience, particularly when it’s going head-to-head with a seasoned competitor such as David Letterman (and especially so when that competitor is in the midst of a sex scandal that will draw eyes to his program). Let’s not forget that Letterman also trounced Leno in the ratings until Leno was able to capitalize on Hugh Grant’s 1995 adventure in previously unexplored Ugly Hookerland to pull ahead.
NBC had a problem where it had two shows with ratings that were less than it desired. Its solution has resulted in the departure of Conan O’Brien, reams of bad press for the network, and the vilification of Jay Leno. Accurate or not, Leno is now seen as a greedy attention whore who could not allow someone else to take the spotlight. This does not bode well for his ratings when he returns.
(As an aside, it’s interesting to note that NBC almost O’Brien-ed Leno back in 1992. There was a time after it had made its decision to go with Leno over Letterman that the network considered changing its mind and bringing back Letterman. So if nothing else, NBC has been consistent. Repugnantly so, but consistent.)
From pepperoni to piledrivers: the terrible tale of Jim Herd
The thing is, executives are all too often given too much power over subjects on which they may have only the most tenuous grasp. That’s what happened in the terrifying tale of Jim Herd. Yes, this example is from wrestling, but it’s a good one.
Herd was the manager of a St. Louis television station that aired National Wrestling Alliance shows. He then went on to serve in an executive capacity for Pizza Hut, which led to him getting a job with Turner Broadcasting. Since he had once managed a TV station that aired wrestling shows, it was decided that Jim Herd was the ideal person to run Turner’s World Championship Wrestling (WCW). If you think about it, that’s like Conrad Black becoming commissioner of the NBA because his newspapers covered basketball games.
It was a complete debacle. Herd had no understanding of the wrestling business, and made decisions that led to a series of high-profile catastrophes. Most notably, he drove out the company’s best-known performer (Ric Flair), which led to WCW events plagued with chants of “We want Flair!” from the audience. Wrestling legend Dusty Rhodes would (allegedly) go on to describe Herd as, “the most untalented motherfucker in the entire world.” Rhodes had, apparently, never met Dick Ebersol.
“The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There’s also a negative side.” – Hunter S. Thompson
Unfortunately, Jim Herd is far from the only executive to have been given authority over things beyond his grasp. The Pink Floyd song, Have a Cigar, decries this, recounting the typical, two-faced bull that spews out of record company executives. Being asked “Which one’s Pink?” by executives who thought that Pink Floyd was the name of the band’s front man, showed that those who had so much power over the band’s future really didn’t know anything about them.
Currently, the music industry is in flux. Giant music companies still wield considerable power and are able to properly position, package and promote artists for success. However, the advent of the Internet has changed things. While some artists and labels are attempting to develop ways of doing business using the Internet (Radiohead, for example), most companies have simply dug in their heels and are attempting to shut down file-sharing websites. As with any industry, those in charge (that would be the executives) are used to a certain way of doing things, and the idea of venturing into the unknown is terrifying.
Follow the leader: why tread your own path when you could just follow the ass of another lemming?
One of the biggest problems in every industry, but particularly in entertainment, is executive-follow-the-leader. It’s not hard to see the patterns.
In 1991, Nirvana shot to the top of the music charts, surprising record industry executives everywhere. In response, executives offered contracts to nearly every band that could play three chords and wear plaid flannel, regardless of talent, in an effort to find the next Nirvana (reports that several lumberjacks were mistaken for grunge rockers and offered contracts are unsubstantiated — but probably true).
Around that same time, television’s Seinfeld became a surprise hit, and would eventually go down as one of the most popular shows of all time. However, as a result of that popularity, television became plagued with programs about clever people who sat around and said clever things. As network executives searched for the next Seinfeld, original programming became increasingly rare.
This trend continues today. The massive success of The Dark Knight has apparently inspired Warner Brothers executives in all the wrong ways:
“[Warner Bros. Pictures Group President Jeff] Robinov wants his next pack of superhero movies to be bathed in the same brooding tone as The Dark Knight. Creatively, he sees exploring the evil side to characters as the key to unlocking some of Warner Bros.’ DC properties. ‘We’re going to try to go dark to the extent that the characters allow it,’ he says. ‘That goes for the company’s Superman franchise as well.’”
It’s a very narrow mind that sees the darkness of The Dark Knight as the reason it succeeded. Batman and the characters in his world are inherently dark; that tone suited them perfectly. Superman is not a dark character. Nor is Captain Marvel, who was set for an action-comedy treatment before this new dark (in both senses) initiative.
Making a dark Captain Marvel film is completely unnecessary, and a betrayal of the character. It would be comparable to making a James Bond movie into a road-trip comedy, or making Saw VI a love story with Sandra Bullock. It’s an affront to everything the characters stand for. Warner Brothers would have a better chance of replicating The Dark Knight’s success by murdering their supporting actors to try and recreate a Heath Ledger situation than by forcing characters to be “dark.”
Of course, Warner Brothers executives haven’t necessarily always been in touch with their DC Comics properties, as Kevin Smith will tell you.
Fox Television: Where promising shows go to never really live in the first place
The most obvious victims of Fox have been the animated shows, Futurama and Family Guy. Obviously, we can only assume that the goal of Fox Broadcasting, as a television company, is to profit from its programs. As a result, it becomes difficult to understand the reasoning behind the way that both shows were treated, particularly in light of The Simpsons’ status as Fox’s certified merchandising cash cow.
Both Futurama and Family Guy were unveiled to much fanfare, but quickly found themselves without a regular timeslot and little advertising to promote those new slots as they came up. As a result, ratings suffered and both shows were cancelled. Clearly, these decisions did not reflect what the audience wanted, as both shows managed to resurrect themselves due to popular demand, DVD sales and high ratings for syndication.
Fox had two properties that have proven themselves to be so popular that they have escaped the grave, which is all but unheard of in television. It’s hard to understand why the shows were never given the support they deserved, particularly given the popularity of the lucrative Simpsons franchise, which proved the power of an animated property. Of course, Fox’s problems aren’t limited to animated programs.
Television has shown that while there are runaway smash hits, sometimes a show needs time to grow (Seinfeld, for example floundered for three seasons before becoming a monster). Fox has seen both of these phenomena first hand. While both The Simpsons and That 70’s Show were popular from the start, another long-running Fox hit, The X-Files, started as a poorly rated cult favourite before rising in the ratings and becoming a mainstream success.
The X-Files may be the only exception to a depressing and disheartening trend: Fox simply does not allow new shows time to increase their audience . Fox has cancelled a plethora of shows with great potential before they had a chance to become successful.
Another property that Fox has been accused of mismanaging is Arrested Development. Critically acclaimed, the show never gained a huge following, and was canceled after three seasons. However, producer Mitch Hurwitz has since said that, “I had taken it as far as I felt I could as a series. I told the story I wanted to tell, and we were getting to a point where I think a lot of the actors were ready to move on.”
Hurwitz’s comments raise an interesting point. It’s easy to point a finger at executives for bungling their management of a creative property. Sometimes, though, there simply isn’t a big enough audience to justify further investment. Arrested Development may be too smart for a mass audience, and the rabid fans who did love the show can rewatch them on DVDs and wait anxiously for the anticipated film version.
The office would like a word with you.…
General Electric CEO Jack Welch once said, “An overburdened, overstretched executive is the best executive, because he or she doesn’t have the time to meddle, to deal in trivia, to bother people.” And he may be right. He may be very right. Oh, hell, he is right!
But the fact is, we are a consumer society focused heavily on our entertainment. We tend to be very passionate about it, whether it is a band, show, film series, or anything else. Because of this, the interference of executives in the creative process is something at which we lash out. “How dare those brainless executives mess with the creative vision of (insert creative type here)?”
Certainly, there have been some (a few. Maybe.) good executive decisions made over the years, but there have been many more bad ones made by executives with an extremely limited knowledge of the projects for which they were responsible. They are never held accountable for the loss of culture and creativity, so we get less of both with each decision they make. They are held accountable only for the loss of revenue, which means that when they take no risks, they lose no revenue. Balls the size of peas seldom motivate anyone to take a chance on quality.
In 1209, Simon IV de Montfort, captain-general of the French forces in the Albigensian Crusade, was active at the siege of Beziers, where the entire population of 20,000 Cathars (heretics) and Catholics (the faithful) were slaughtered. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of those unfortunates sought refuge in two cathedrals. Those in one cathedral were burned alive when it was set on fire. When Montfort’s Crusaders wondered how to tell the difference between the heretics and the faithful in the other cathedral, the Cistercian abbot, Arnald-Amalric, responded, “Kill them all. God will recognize his own.” Those in the second cathedral were subsequently butchered, man, woman, child, and presumably pet, just in case. In the Vietnam War, Arnald-Amalric’s words were paraphrased by some anonymous soldier as, “Kill ‘em all. Let God sort ‘em out.”
“Kill them all. God will recognize his own.” Or, “Kill ‘em all. Let God sort ‘em out.” Whether your tastes run to the 13th-century philosophy or the less elegant 20th-century variety, it seems eminently reasonable to adopt one or the other where entertainment industry executives are concerned (sorry, Mitch Hurwitz). Their few creative successes are so thoroughly outweighed by their multitude of dreck and cannibalistic re-offerings that a thorough housecleaning could have nothing but benefits. And we’d have more risks like Arrested Development and fewer safe, bottom-liners like Everybody Loves Raymond.
And that could be bad, how, exactly?
(Special thanks to Augustine Funnell)
by Jody Coughlin
How backwards can the human race be? Seriously? I was watching the Weather Network last night (riveting, I know) and there was a little news blurb on it about the Olympics and yes, the Winter Olympics coming to Vancouver is a glorious thing. There is much to celebrate. Spring rain falls on the hopeful hearts of the beloved sportsmen. Canada unites in triumphant athletic leadership… Yeah. Awesome.
But do you know what I think of when I see this stuff on television? First of all, the new design of the torch perplexes me. It looks (to me anyway) like a missing part from an airplane. I don’t know where the design came from and yes, I am too lazy to research it (so don’t even go there with me all you Olympic aficionados).
Secondly, I think to myself that these Winter games and the subsequent millions of dollars investors and advertisers throw at them remind me of a playground. On this playground in my mind I see all the rich kids, all the jocks and all the cheerleaders (not to stereotype-but come on) huddled around what could only be called a buffet table. There is lots to eat and lots to drink and plenty of mutual admiration all around. It’s so perfect it could make you puke.
Then, in my mind’s pretty blue eye, on the other side of the playground, I see the kids who came to school with no lunch money. I see the kids that had the shit kicked out of them and then had their lunch money stolen and I also see the kids who brought along a baggie of peanut butter and crackers and a sad, shriveled up apple. I see oblivion on the behalf of the kids at the buffet table. I see utter, basic human needs going unmet on behalf of the poor kids with nothing.
In my mind it is the Olympics versus the earthquake tragedy in Haiti. It is the babies being born in sweltering heat under the tent roofs of a makeshift neonatal unit. I see the look in the eyes of the mothers as they wilt in what must surely be exhaustion and absolute fear and despair next to their babies makeshift cribs. In my heart I weigh these images that have been broadcast on almost all major news channels by now against the warm and fuzzy heralding of the sportsmen’s wet dream otherwise known as the Olympics. I see these things and I am utterly appalled.
I know that the world (and all the fun therein) doesn’t stop because there is a need in some foreign country somewhere. I realize this particular bit of writing is the most depressing thing anyone has probably read in a few days. So what? I don’t care. I am depressed. I am depressed that I live in a world where frivolities flourish amid tragedy. I am depressed that the Olympics take precedence over the rebuilding of a hospital in a disaster ridden nation. It brings me way low down when a stadium is built (and maybe even rebuilt) to suit the aesthetic appeal of ceremonial bullshit instead of a school.
Maybe I am too harsh, but I fail to see where it matters that somebody can perform something faster or more deftly than anyone else in the world when there is an entire nation of orphans needing a home. I’m sorry Olympians. I know you’ve been training your asses off, but in terms of checks and balances it makes no sense to me. Cancel the Olympics. Rebuild Haiti.
an essay by Matthew Payne
I’ve always been in love with science. I read science magazines when I was a kid and I am always thrilled by new discoveries or new technologies. But I only started reading science-fiction a couple years ago, because most popular science fiction has very little to do with real science or scientific ideas. Don’t get me wrong, I love Star Trek and Star Wars, but there’s very little in the way of real science there. I love them because they’re good stories with compelling characters, not because the science is stimulating. So they didn’t compel me to seek out more “science fiction.”
When I finally did start reading science fiction, I saw that the best stuff was not made of what we understand the genre to be. We tend to think of science-fiction as a story set in the future, but real sci-fi fans know better. I want to do something now to clarify the differences and maybe open up some new ground for curious book-lovers. I want to show you the mind-bending glories of a plot based on a scientific idea; the curiosity and paranoia of speculative fiction which can bring current issues and age-old questions into the light of a different context; and also the dizzying aesthetic panoramas of a regular good story set in the future. But mostly, I want to show curious readers that there is so much more to science fiction than just spaceships and lasers.
So I will try to show some examples from some sub-genres of sci-fi. These aren’t my categories: they already exist, and I’ve heard different ideas about what constitutes each pseudo-sub-genre. I’ll describe them as I see them, with examples that will often amount to a miniature book-review. There are spoilers in here, and I might ruin some good books for you, so be careful.
I’ll start with my favorite, and the most rare style of sci-fi: the plot based on a scientific idea. This is the playground where most hard science-fiction plays. It can be a simple enough idea, like in Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park where they clone dinosaurs and the dinosaurs eat people. We’re all familiar enough with the movie, which did a good job at portraying the book (probably because Crichton wrote the screenplay). The plot is based on the idea that genes (DNA) naturally create life, and thus we can manipulate them into creating life. Scientists in the story found old dinosaur genes and created a favorable environment for them to grow living dinosaurs. The action of the story involved people trying to avoid getting eaten by the giant monsters, but without the science aspect there would have been no dinosaurs and no action. Jurassic Park has a plot based on a scientific idea, and for me that means that it is just as sci-fi as Star Trek.
But Jurassic Park is not what I’d call “hard” science fiction, because the science-part pretty much ends once the dinosaurs are alive. All you need to do is accept that cloning might be possible in this fictional world, and proceed to be afraid of dinosaurs. I admit that the book is much closer to being hard science-fiction than the movie, with occasional discussions about ideas and deeper descriptions about the mecahnics of genetic science, but when I compare it to the work of Greg Egan, I can’t justify calling Jurassic Park “hard sci-fi.”
Greg Egan is the man who showed me the brightest possibilities in true science-fiction. He is one of my favorite writers, and I’m always shocked (genuinely shocked) by the new places his sci-fi can take me. I’ve only read three of his books, but they are three of my favourite books. The basic plots of his books are based on complex scientific ideas, the action itself is a constant interplay of theoretical physics and software-fiction, and his characters themselves are often based on scientific ideas. It all seems very abstract when I describe it like that, but the characters are very compelling and the conflicts, while strange, dig right into your heart. The evocative stories carry on at a fast pace, the biggest page-turners I have ever read. He is a master storyteller.
To summarize the plot of his 2003 novel, Schild’s Ladder, in one sentence, I could say that “a new type of physics is eating up the universe, expanding at half the speed of light, and futuristic scientists are trying to find out how the human race can survive it.”
The novel is set twenty-thousand years in the future, when science has discovered much more about physics. According to the science of Egan’s fictional world, the vacuum of space and the particles within it are just one type of possible vacuum that can exist in the so-called “universe.” But one scientist has created an experimental new kind of physics, a new kind of vacuum, which is stronger than the current one which gave rise to stars, planets, and life. This new vacuum, called the “novo-vacuum” starts expanding as a huge ball, moving at half the speed of light, eating everything in its way (including space itself).
That’s a pretty cool plot by itself, but Egan adds crazier elements to the story. People are no longer flesh-humans, nor are they part-robot or anything like that. They can choose to take flesh-forms, they can choose to inhabit robots, they can live as independent software floating around with no computer (“incorporeals”), and they can transmit themselves across the galaxy at the speed of light. This creates interesting conflicts between characters, and a new context for the strange new-physics problem facing all the “people” of the galaxy. A lot of the conflict is based around characters arguing whether to try to stop the new physics, or try to study it and adapt to it. Egan gets philosophical about this point. It might seem silly to get philosophical about a problem that’s probably impossible, but it is also a metaphor about being brave and pursuing new things.
As you can imagine, the action of the story requires methodical descriptions of the behaviour of particles and software. This makes for reading that is simultaneously very dry and imaginative, while the concerns and welfare of the characters keep the reader extra-interested. It is very well done. I won’t tell you how it ends.
If that seems too far-out for you, then I won’t even begin to describe the multi-dimensional meanderings of the software-people in Egan’s Diaspora, or how the regular human main-character in Quarantine has to navigate through devastatingly limitless possible quantum outcomes to every situation in an attempt to save humanity from insanity.
And that brings me to Star Wars, where Jedi-magic is just as important to the plot as any kind of technology, and scientific ideas are simply absent.
I was once at a comic-book convention and I asked a comic-book vendor if he knew of any good science-fiction comics, because I’ve been looking for a good one for a while. He said, “I have lots of Star Wars comics.”
I said, “Star Wars is more fantasy than science fiction. What else do you have?”
He frowned at me, then he looked at my friend and said, “He’s lucky there’s a table between us right now.” After that he refused to talk to me.
Star Wars belongs in fantasy just as much as it belongs in sci-fi, because the Jedi knights are wizard-warriors. There is no offer of a scientific explanation for their abilities to move objects with their minds, or any of the amazing and impossible fighting moves they do. It’s magic. They are wizards. I had a friend say, “No, it’s not magic. It’s just mind-over-matter! It’s like Buddhism.” Well, I’m sorry but if there was a story about Buddhists using telekinesis, then that story would be fantasy, because telekinesis is magic, and it’s not real.
I had someone tell me that “cyber-punk” was a sub-genre of science fiction where there is lots of technology, but the stories are usually gritty and tough. Star Wars can fall into that category, because it’s a fairly gritty epic-adventure with spaceships and laser-swords.
I have certainly relented from my previous stance that Star Wars is not science-fiction, but when I think about Greg Egan or Michael Crichton, men who have their heads right inside a science text-book, I just can’t put Star Wars in the same category. Instead it is the perfect blend of sci-fi elements with fantasy, for a truly imaginative adventure story.
Keep in mind that this is merely an organizational matter, a matter of categorization. This has nothing to do with the quality of the work. I’m a big fan of the first three Star Wars movies, and I believe that the world needs more laser-sword battles. But it stimulates a different part of my mind than the stories that I consider scientifically imaginative.
Then there is Christopher Priest. I’ve read several of his books, and they are always mind-bending soul-wrenchers. Priest is great because he intentionally messes around with the reader, using the perspective of the characters to submerse you into his surreal yet very tangible worlds.
The whole plot and world of Priest’s surreal sci-fi classic, The Inverted World, are basically a philosophical statement with a scientific explanation. The characters all live in a city which is moving on tracks. They have to work together to pick up the tracks behind the city and lay them down in front of the city every day. At first, you don’t know why they’re doing this. The main character is just a kid at first, and he doesn’t understand the city, and the reader only knows what the character knows.
The city-dwellers have a name for the areas they already passed through. They call it “the past.” The area ahead of them, where they plan to lay new tracks, is called “the future.” It seems like a stupid and pointless activity at first, desperately picking up and laying down tracks, but then the main character travels into “the past” by simply walking back to where the city has already been, and he finds that all the old mountains and trees have gotten smaller and smaller. The further back he goes, the smaller the trees and mountains get, and gravity eventually threatens to pull him vertically into the infinite and flat “past.” When he travels into “the future,” walking ahead of the slowly-moving city, he finds that everything gets bigger and bigger until he can’t even step over pebbles, and gravity won’t let him walk any further forward. To make it worse, the future and the past are always moving forwards. If the city stops moving, it will shrink into “the past,” and gravity will pull it off the flat landscape and supposedly into oblivion.
Beautifully strange as it is, the city-dwellers have a scientific explanation for this gorgeous and terrifying world they live in. They say that instead of living on a finite planet in an infinite universe (like our finite Earth in our infinite universe), these people live on an infinite planet within a finite universe. They think that their planet is a rotating parabola, but only part of it is ever within the finite universe, and the city has to keep moving to stay within the universe, and to keep existing.
As a metaphor, he is referring to our perspective of the future looming huge above us, and our dwindling memories of our disappearing past. Also, our seemingly innate instinct to keep moving, almost desparately towards the future, terrified of what would happen if we stopped.
As science-fiction, the idea of an infinite planet moving through a finite universe is really cool and interesting. Christopher Priest is often a dark and paranoid writer, but the action is equally colorful and imaginative.
So I’ve spoiled a lot of the fun surprise of The Inverted World for anyone who might read it (and the surprise of discovery is the biggest part of the fun of reading Christopher Priest), but you can still read The Affirmation if you want to get mind-fucked, or Darkening Island if you want to get depressed and scared. They are less sci-fi, but awesome stories. Indoctrinaire is another great book by Priest, and it is probably the most surreal of all his books that I’ve read.
Actually, you are probably familiar with his work already. His book, The Prestige, was made into a movie of the same name. It had a lot of the same lineup as Dark Knight, including Christian Bale and Michael Caine in the cast, and the amazing Nolan brothers writing and directing it.
Now for Star Trek.
Star Trek beats Star Wars for sci-fi categorization because there is no magic. They at least pretend that things like replicators and transporters are genuine inventions of technology, plausible within our own regular physics. For me Star Trek in all its forms is in the same genre as Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series. It’s social-science-fiction, using a futuristic setting to demonstrate ideas about humanity, rather than scientific ideas.
Asimov’s Foundation stories were mainly political stories, showing the development of humanity as empires ebbed and flowed throughout the galaxy. Star Trek used an episodic style to show the noble Star Fleet officers giving help and wisdom to other life-forms. The humans in Star Trek have overcome war and financial inequality through the use of technology to make everyone comfortable and relatively safe. Some episodes have sci-fi plots, like in The Next Generation, when Star Fleet wants to dissemble the android Data. He has no actual feelings or legal rights, but the crew of The Enterprise have grown fond of him and they want to keep him, and so there is a court battle about why humans deserve rights and robots don’t. I don’t think this idea is really socially relevant yet, but it might be some day. Also, science considers humans to be merely biological robots, so the legal rights of androids is a silly question that actually sheds light onto the question of what it means to be human.
For the most part, the science of Star Trek isn’t very scientific. The aliens they meet always seem to look like humans with makeup on their faces, and the scientific understanding of natural selection seems to suggest that it’s really unlikely that there would be aliens so very similar to us. In fact, there is sometimes breeding between different species (like Worf’s half-human, half-klingon son Alexander), which must suggest that other aliens use the same kind of DNA as humans, with the same six molecules, and that they have a genome so close to our own that we can breed with them.
That being said, I love Star Trek: The Next Generation more than Star Wars or any other sci-fi, maybe even including Egan and Priest. It’s true that it’s a corny television show, but I love it because the characters are noble and curious, the episodes have a lot of (often naïve) social wisdom, and the Enterprise just seems like an awesome place to live. Of course, Captain Picard is the most noble of them all, jolly and witty in good times; deadly serious, sharp and disciplined in the tough times.
So Star Trek is a great show, but not hard science-fiction. It is a story set in the future, and the characters could just as well be on a ship exploring the ocean in the past, and not much would be lost for the viewer. The sci-fi element is mostly an aesthetic choice. Plus, it allows us to hope for this as a possible version of “the future.”
I wanted to discuss the films The Matrix, Gattaca, and especially Terminator II: Judgement Day, but I think I’ve vaguely categorized enough for now. I’ll leave them floating among the sci-fi mists.
This short multi-review does not describe the whole massive genre of science fiction; it doesn’t even come close. But I hope that I’ve expanded your image of the genre beyond the typical low-quality space-opera conception/prejudice.
As a final note, sci-fi often refers to “alternate dimensions,” and the authors treat it like moving to a different universe similar to our own but different. They mistake the idea of dimensions. We live in three-dimensional space, and the real theoretical idea is that the fourth dimension is time. Greg Egan plays with this idea in Diaspora, but you can get a really cool description of the actual (theoretical) idea on Youtube. Check out the video embedded below. It’s part one of two. The second part should be available at the end.
