It is the fault of writers like Richard Matheson that the vampire genre of horror novels became outmoded and cliché. But I cannot dislike him for that, because with ‘I Am Legend,’ Richard has done what I so love, in creating a cross-genre novel. Straddling horror and science fiction, I Am Legend tells the tale of Robert Neville, the last living man on Earth, when a plague has caused the spread of vampirism throughout the whole of humankind.
While I was constantly aware that, at the time, vampires had not been done to death, I always had it in the back of my mind that, whenever I read anything about what publishers want, they always say ‘no vampires’. Writing in the 50’s, Matheson was not to know the difficulty that modern authors would face when trying to bring an original slant to the vampire story. He had only Dracula, and one or two others, to draw on. It is rather amusing to think that, today, Matheson would probably not have got this book published, especially not as his first novel.
I am Legend contains many of the standard vampire myths, including the fear of mirrors, the cross, garlic. At the beginning it seems that the science fiction element is missing, and it concentrates on the horror. It paints a tale of loneliness, of survival, of one man’s struggle to come to terms with a world that has become completely alien to him. Robert Neville is the face of humanity in this story. He has found some solace in routine, and in hunting by day, killing the living dead that walk at night. He struggles with his loneliness, he seeks comfort in his whiskey, he spends months tortured by the nightly shouts of vampires, especially the voice of a vampire that was, in life, his friend.
Over the course of the novel, Neville explores the nature of the vampire. Here is where the story becomes science fiction, leaving behind the horror-story. With halting steps, Neville investigates using the tools left over from the fall of society. Sometimes I found the ‘scientific’ explanations for the vampire myth to be somewhat weak. I was not sure how much was intended to sound weak, perhaps pointing out that Neville has learned all he has from books, and has little knowledge of scientific methodology. He is, perhaps, making most of it up as he goes along. However, a lot of what is explained sounds plausible. I found myself wondering if Matheson himself believed in vampires, or wanted to, and was trying to find ways to explain all the common vampire mythologies.
The modern approach to similar vampire stories seems to be to ignore those parts of the vampire myth that are based in superstition: the cross and mirrors, are conveniently disregarded, except in the rare story where vampires are demonic, rather than viral in nature. Matheson’s explanations draw on a variety of scientific disciplines, none of which sit entirely comfortably on my scientific shoulders. I am not a biologist, and I have no knowledge of bacteriology or physiology, so I could not speak to the rigour of his methods, or the truth in his explanations. But, from a scientific gut feeling, some worked and some didn’t.
Again I come back to the fact that this was written in the 1950’s. Perhaps Matheson had researched as rigorously as he could, knew all their was to know, and to people, even scientists, in the 50’s it all sounded perfectly reasonable. I would like to think so. And even if that isn’t true, it doesn’t matter. Because at its core, I Am Legend is a fantastic story. Neville was a stunningly crafted character, resilient but astoundingly human, with the incredible desire just to survive that many would lack in a similar circumstance. He is curious and inquisitive and he demonstrates the ability to adapt to the harshest of circumstance.
The writing is carefully crafted. Small details that seem to be almost incidental in the story come back again, with significance. I am Legend has barely a wasted word, which is a wonderful relief after reading verbose and poorly edited works of more modern fiction. It flips between anxious intensity and near-despair, amusement and raw survival instinct.
Despite my scientific scepticism, I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and towards the end it was more and more difficult to put it down. This book would appeal equally to readers of horror and readers of SF. It is another title well deserving of the honoured classification of ‘SF Masterwork’.
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
Saturday, 26 July 2008
Review of the 2008 film ‘Wall-E’
Wall-E is an adorable, heart-warming story about a robot. It is also a thought-provoking science fiction story about the current environmental and ecological crises that we are facing as a species. In the future, Earth is a glorified rubbish tip, and the company that seems to run most of the world develops the ‘Wall-E’ class of robots to clean up, while most, if not all, humankind leaves on a space ship on a five-year luxury cruise. However, something goes wrong and 700 years later, only one Wall-E robot remains functional, and humankind is still in space.
The first part of the film has very little dialogue, and yet the robots in it, Wall-e and Eve, are incredibly expressive in their own way. The toils of little Wall-e as he struggles to come to terms with his own personality, his loneliness, and his sudden lack of loneliness is remarkably well described throughout the film. In some ways, the robots are much more expressive than the human characters.
While our little robot has spent 700 years cleaning up Earth as best he can, and collecting such trinkets as he sees fit, humankind has taken a downturn. The inhabitants of the spaceship live in hover chairs, eating food that comes in cups. They are all overweight blobs, communicating to each other through heads-up display, and very rarely actually taking note of what is around them. 700 years has left humanity in a rather sorry state, with robots to cater to their every whim, even walking seems an unfamiliar concept.
As the plot progresses we see Wall-e’s personality growing, and we see him gradually opening peoples eyes, affecting them for the better. Between the Captain of the spaceship and two passers-by that Wall-e happens to ‘bring to life’ we see the film’s world explored, and we see the vicious circles that lead down that path. We also see the changes that bring hope and encouragement, with some restoration of the faith in human nature.
Wall-E is a kid’s film. The emotions of characters have to be made plain, and the explanations have to be clear, for the younger viewers to understand. Younger viewers will also appreciate the chase-scenes, the cleaning robot that constantly chases after trails of mud left by Wall-e’s tracks, and the struggle of our human and robot protagonists against the rigid and unmoving ‘autopilot’.
But Wall-E is also one of those rare gems: a kids' film that also has a lot in it for adults. From humour that steps sometimes beyond what most young children will grasp, to underlying messages that are more disturbing to adults than they are to children, everyone can learn from Wall-E. And within the framework of a post-apocalyptic world, we are told a funny, endearing story about a robot that has developed sentience. It is witty, it is lovely, and it tells a story in fantastic style. The lessons are subtly driven home: they are taken-as-read to the extent that the plot can be enjoyed without feeling beaten down by the force of the warnings and moral debates the subject matter should raise.
One question I would have for the makers of film is why did Wall-e survive, but not all his other companions? Throughout, our little protagonist strikes the viewer as resourceful, intelligent and almost indestructible, but it is unclear why he realised this potential while his companions fell by the wayside. It is also never made clear exactly what global crisis left the world as uninhabitable as it eventually is.
In the end, you have to come back to the explanation of ‘it’s a kids film, and there isn’t enough time for all the explanations’. However, what it deals with, it deals with spectacularly well. The love story, the adventure story and the drama mesh seamlessly into a beautiful work of animation and a film that both adults and children can enjoy to the fullest extent. If you haven’t seen it yet, do. I thoroughly recommend it.
The first part of the film has very little dialogue, and yet the robots in it, Wall-e and Eve, are incredibly expressive in their own way. The toils of little Wall-e as he struggles to come to terms with his own personality, his loneliness, and his sudden lack of loneliness is remarkably well described throughout the film. In some ways, the robots are much more expressive than the human characters.
While our little robot has spent 700 years cleaning up Earth as best he can, and collecting such trinkets as he sees fit, humankind has taken a downturn. The inhabitants of the spaceship live in hover chairs, eating food that comes in cups. They are all overweight blobs, communicating to each other through heads-up display, and very rarely actually taking note of what is around them. 700 years has left humanity in a rather sorry state, with robots to cater to their every whim, even walking seems an unfamiliar concept.
As the plot progresses we see Wall-e’s personality growing, and we see him gradually opening peoples eyes, affecting them for the better. Between the Captain of the spaceship and two passers-by that Wall-e happens to ‘bring to life’ we see the film’s world explored, and we see the vicious circles that lead down that path. We also see the changes that bring hope and encouragement, with some restoration of the faith in human nature.
Wall-E is a kid’s film. The emotions of characters have to be made plain, and the explanations have to be clear, for the younger viewers to understand. Younger viewers will also appreciate the chase-scenes, the cleaning robot that constantly chases after trails of mud left by Wall-e’s tracks, and the struggle of our human and robot protagonists against the rigid and unmoving ‘autopilot’.
But Wall-E is also one of those rare gems: a kids' film that also has a lot in it for adults. From humour that steps sometimes beyond what most young children will grasp, to underlying messages that are more disturbing to adults than they are to children, everyone can learn from Wall-E. And within the framework of a post-apocalyptic world, we are told a funny, endearing story about a robot that has developed sentience. It is witty, it is lovely, and it tells a story in fantastic style. The lessons are subtly driven home: they are taken-as-read to the extent that the plot can be enjoyed without feeling beaten down by the force of the warnings and moral debates the subject matter should raise.
One question I would have for the makers of film is why did Wall-e survive, but not all his other companions? Throughout, our little protagonist strikes the viewer as resourceful, intelligent and almost indestructible, but it is unclear why he realised this potential while his companions fell by the wayside. It is also never made clear exactly what global crisis left the world as uninhabitable as it eventually is.
In the end, you have to come back to the explanation of ‘it’s a kids film, and there isn’t enough time for all the explanations’. However, what it deals with, it deals with spectacularly well. The love story, the adventure story and the drama mesh seamlessly into a beautiful work of animation and a film that both adults and children can enjoy to the fullest extent. If you haven’t seen it yet, do. I thoroughly recommend it.
Review of ‘The Runaway’ by Martina Cole
This is another life story from Martina Cole, telling the story of Cathy Conner. Daughter of a dock-dolly, living in squalor in the East End, Cathy’s life is changed when an incident leads to her being taken into care. Of course, in this case ‘care’ is used in the loosest possible sense of the word, and Cathy very quickly decides she wants out… and so she goes on the run. Finding herself in Soho, a transvestite names Desrae rescues her, and turns the path of her life around. Then there is Eamonn Docherty, son of her former stepfather, and a soul to whom Cathy had incredible, incomprehensible love and loyalty towards. He flees to New York after a murder, and makes a life for himself there as a criminal… but of course eventually he returns, and his path crosses with Cathy’s again.
I found the first part of the novel quite difficult to read, because almost all of the characters are thoroughly unlikeable. This occasionally includes the protagonist herself, though for different reasons than most. Most of the characters are harsh, often violent, with motivations and justifications that just don’t ring true. Cathy is, at first, a basically good kid that occasionally acts out-of-character.
After a while, though, the style settles down, especially after Desrae is introduced. Transvestites and gays were not readily accepted in 1970’s London, but Desrae has a measure of protection from his lover, who is a big ‘face’ in the area. Desrae’s character is wonderful, motherly and genuinely kind, though very worldly. He makes light of many situations, and has learned to live in a world that doesn’t widely accept him. While Martina’s style of introducing and describing these characters doesn’t quite sit right with me (it is far too expositional for my tastes), I found myself rapidly coming to like Desrae. With Cathy herself (after her life story catches up with her character) and, eventually, the ‘good-cop-bad-cop’ Richard Gates, there were some characters I could relate to. After that I began to enjoy the story.
Martina Cole writes in a cockney accent. Her written Irish, American and Italian accents are slightly less believable, and even her Londoners eventually begin to all sound the same. The cockney rhyming slang and angry character monologues start to ‘get on your wick’. The general writing style is third person limited, which means that each scene is described through the eyes of a particular character. This usually works quite well. However, I take issue with the fact that it often switches perspective in the middle of scenes, or even paragraphs. I also take issue with minor characters being introduced in scenes told from their perspective, for them only to be killed in the next scene. I would consider it unnecessary, as most of what she tells about them (usually about their being a psycho, and generally unpleasant individual) could be told just as well from a different perspective.
Still, these little bugaboos aside, the story of Cathy Conner and her life in the Soho underworld is occasionally funny and heart-warming. Her unconditional love for the complete jackass that is Eamonn Docherty is strangely understandable from her background, and only serves to make you feel more sorry for her. Her relations with her odd ‘family’ consisting of a transvestite, a renowned ‘Madam’, a New York gangster, a bent policeman and her beautiful daughter makes for a varied life, spanning all the ups and downs one can expect from a life of crime led by a basically decent individual.
The things that annoy me most about Martina Cole annoy me because they crop up in all of her novels. I think that almost all of her stories include paedophilia, rape, incest and whores on one level or another, while gun crime and drugs are taken as read in almost every situation. The main character is almost invariably an attractive female ‘survivor’ lead into a life because of a desire to escape a more hideous earlier one. Cole’s children also have the ring-of-false about them, although I am the first to admit that I had a sheltered and happy, normal childhood in a privileged area, while the children in these books have led a much harsher lives. Still, even the more privileged children seem old before their time in these books. The minor characters; gangsters, hard-men, whores; seem to draw from a very small stock of characters that Martina keeps in a file and draws at random. The secondary main characters, next to the charismatic, strong female lead, tend to be a little more varied, but even they sometimes draw on a series of consistent tropes.
As stories about the criminal underworld, Cole’s novels work quite well, but the repetition is somewhat tiresome. On its own, any one of the novels is interesting and enjoyable. If you have never read any Martina Cole and enjoy books of the same persuasion, I have no doubt that you will enjoy your first Martina Cole book… whichever one you pick. Perhaps you are also of the persuasion that could read as many as you like and still enjoy each one on its own merits. All I know is that I am not, particularly, and while I read all of them, and often even feel some empathy with the characters, I do not enjoy them as much as I did my first Martina Cole novel, ‘Maura’s Game’.
All that said, I did enjoy ‘The Runaway,’ probably more than some of Martina’s books. It was worth reading, if only for Desrae, and by the end, though things seem to have taken a slide downhill, there is still the feeling that it could all work out for the best. And it’s still not enough to put me off reading the two remaining Martina Cole novels I have waiting on my shelf.
I found the first part of the novel quite difficult to read, because almost all of the characters are thoroughly unlikeable. This occasionally includes the protagonist herself, though for different reasons than most. Most of the characters are harsh, often violent, with motivations and justifications that just don’t ring true. Cathy is, at first, a basically good kid that occasionally acts out-of-character.
After a while, though, the style settles down, especially after Desrae is introduced. Transvestites and gays were not readily accepted in 1970’s London, but Desrae has a measure of protection from his lover, who is a big ‘face’ in the area. Desrae’s character is wonderful, motherly and genuinely kind, though very worldly. He makes light of many situations, and has learned to live in a world that doesn’t widely accept him. While Martina’s style of introducing and describing these characters doesn’t quite sit right with me (it is far too expositional for my tastes), I found myself rapidly coming to like Desrae. With Cathy herself (after her life story catches up with her character) and, eventually, the ‘good-cop-bad-cop’ Richard Gates, there were some characters I could relate to. After that I began to enjoy the story.
Martina Cole writes in a cockney accent. Her written Irish, American and Italian accents are slightly less believable, and even her Londoners eventually begin to all sound the same. The cockney rhyming slang and angry character monologues start to ‘get on your wick’. The general writing style is third person limited, which means that each scene is described through the eyes of a particular character. This usually works quite well. However, I take issue with the fact that it often switches perspective in the middle of scenes, or even paragraphs. I also take issue with minor characters being introduced in scenes told from their perspective, for them only to be killed in the next scene. I would consider it unnecessary, as most of what she tells about them (usually about their being a psycho, and generally unpleasant individual) could be told just as well from a different perspective.
Still, these little bugaboos aside, the story of Cathy Conner and her life in the Soho underworld is occasionally funny and heart-warming. Her unconditional love for the complete jackass that is Eamonn Docherty is strangely understandable from her background, and only serves to make you feel more sorry for her. Her relations with her odd ‘family’ consisting of a transvestite, a renowned ‘Madam’, a New York gangster, a bent policeman and her beautiful daughter makes for a varied life, spanning all the ups and downs one can expect from a life of crime led by a basically decent individual.
The things that annoy me most about Martina Cole annoy me because they crop up in all of her novels. I think that almost all of her stories include paedophilia, rape, incest and whores on one level or another, while gun crime and drugs are taken as read in almost every situation. The main character is almost invariably an attractive female ‘survivor’ lead into a life because of a desire to escape a more hideous earlier one. Cole’s children also have the ring-of-false about them, although I am the first to admit that I had a sheltered and happy, normal childhood in a privileged area, while the children in these books have led a much harsher lives. Still, even the more privileged children seem old before their time in these books. The minor characters; gangsters, hard-men, whores; seem to draw from a very small stock of characters that Martina keeps in a file and draws at random. The secondary main characters, next to the charismatic, strong female lead, tend to be a little more varied, but even they sometimes draw on a series of consistent tropes.
As stories about the criminal underworld, Cole’s novels work quite well, but the repetition is somewhat tiresome. On its own, any one of the novels is interesting and enjoyable. If you have never read any Martina Cole and enjoy books of the same persuasion, I have no doubt that you will enjoy your first Martina Cole book… whichever one you pick. Perhaps you are also of the persuasion that could read as many as you like and still enjoy each one on its own merits. All I know is that I am not, particularly, and while I read all of them, and often even feel some empathy with the characters, I do not enjoy them as much as I did my first Martina Cole novel, ‘Maura’s Game’.
All that said, I did enjoy ‘The Runaway,’ probably more than some of Martina’s books. It was worth reading, if only for Desrae, and by the end, though things seem to have taken a slide downhill, there is still the feeling that it could all work out for the best. And it’s still not enough to put me off reading the two remaining Martina Cole novels I have waiting on my shelf.
Thursday, 17 July 2008
Review of the 2005 film ‘Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang’
With a brilliant (if slightly complicated) plot and wonderful characters, ‘Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang’ is one of the most entertaining films I have seen this year, and I think it will rapidly be finding its place on my list of favourite movies.
Robert Downey Jr plays quirky petty criminal Harry Lockhart, narrator of our tale. Chance circumstances lead Lockhart to LA, invited to a party where he meets the sarcastic private detective ‘Gay Perry’ (Val Kilmer) and the hopeful actress, Harmony (Michelle Monaghan). From there things go downhill, and ‘detective lessons’ aimed at making Lockhart a better actor start to have very real consequences.
This film manages to be funny without being too slapstick, and it manages to be dramatic without taking itself too seriously. While the events and plot might outline any number of Hollywood detective stories, the fact that the characters are aware of this makes it much easier to swallow, and everything takes place with a mixture of drama, suspense and entertainment. From the caustic remarks of Gay Perry to the naïve and occasionally idiotic bumbling of the narrator, this film is beautifully scripted, and the acting is behind the quality of story one hundred percent.
Unfortunately, from the point of view of a reviewer, any points that I could find to scorn are scorned by the characters in the movie before I have a chance. They constantly make reference to ‘Johnny Gossamer’ novels, which are cheesy paperback detective stories that Harmony read constantly as a child. That the plot reads like such a fictional flick is referenced, and even ‘explained’. The actual detective, Perry, mocks Lockhart relentlessly for acting like he’s a TV detective. And because it’s a comic film, these ‘flaws’ are arguably selling points, making the film more of a parody.
But ‘Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang,’ also has its dramatic moments. Fear, anger, hope and love are portrayed beautifully on screen, and there is never a sense of any character feeling, leave alone being, invincible. From beginning to end, the film entertains and amuses, without forgetting to have an extra special flare.
Some films manage to capture a balance between comedy and action drama perfectly, and this is one of them. I would recommend this film to anyone. Unless you have serious problems with guns and violence and swearing.
Robert Downey Jr plays quirky petty criminal Harry Lockhart, narrator of our tale. Chance circumstances lead Lockhart to LA, invited to a party where he meets the sarcastic private detective ‘Gay Perry’ (Val Kilmer) and the hopeful actress, Harmony (Michelle Monaghan). From there things go downhill, and ‘detective lessons’ aimed at making Lockhart a better actor start to have very real consequences.
This film manages to be funny without being too slapstick, and it manages to be dramatic without taking itself too seriously. While the events and plot might outline any number of Hollywood detective stories, the fact that the characters are aware of this makes it much easier to swallow, and everything takes place with a mixture of drama, suspense and entertainment. From the caustic remarks of Gay Perry to the naïve and occasionally idiotic bumbling of the narrator, this film is beautifully scripted, and the acting is behind the quality of story one hundred percent.
Unfortunately, from the point of view of a reviewer, any points that I could find to scorn are scorned by the characters in the movie before I have a chance. They constantly make reference to ‘Johnny Gossamer’ novels, which are cheesy paperback detective stories that Harmony read constantly as a child. That the plot reads like such a fictional flick is referenced, and even ‘explained’. The actual detective, Perry, mocks Lockhart relentlessly for acting like he’s a TV detective. And because it’s a comic film, these ‘flaws’ are arguably selling points, making the film more of a parody.
But ‘Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang,’ also has its dramatic moments. Fear, anger, hope and love are portrayed beautifully on screen, and there is never a sense of any character feeling, leave alone being, invincible. From beginning to end, the film entertains and amuses, without forgetting to have an extra special flare.
Some films manage to capture a balance between comedy and action drama perfectly, and this is one of them. I would recommend this film to anyone. Unless you have serious problems with guns and violence and swearing.
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Review of ‘Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’ by Philip K. Dick
I feel like something of a fraud even trying to review this book, but I feel I should at least try. It has been listed as one of the science fiction masterworks. Perhaps I can see why. I can certainly see why the film makers took up on it, creating ‘Blade Runner’ from the premises outlined in the book… although it should be stated from the very beginning that book and film diverge very rapidly in terms of plot.
In the future, after a war leaves the planet ravaged, many people flee the Earth in favour of the colonies. They are promised android assistants on the colonies, and as with any consumer product, the quality of these androids must continue to improve to meet demand. Rick Deckard is a bounty hunter, hired to hunt down and kill escaped androids that return to Earth, and it is his lucky day. Eight of the latest model have just landed in his jurisdiction, and he is hired to go after the remaining six when his superior is injured in the course of duty.
Philip K Dick does a brilliant job of laying out the ‘new world’ where this novel is set. It is a depressing reality, almost hopeless, dark and dreary. People can alter their emotions at the touch of a dial with a ‘mood organ’ and it’s just as well, because any inherent joy in the world fails to come across in the story. And then there are the androids… fleeing the colonies to seek a better life in this bastardised version of the planet that we, the readers, know. It is a very unfamiliar reality but it is written so as to be completely believable. The characters, too, fit perfectly within the context, and promote empathy from the readers as they struggle in the world the past has left for them.
I did not enjoy this book, in the usual sense of the word… it was thought provoking, it was very well written and the plot was engaging and interesting, but enjoying it would imply I enjoyed moral dilemmas and suffering. Rather I accepted that it was so, because the writing made it convincing, but it was very difficult to like it. Some of the characters were likeable, in odd ways, but the plot and events described a world that was fundamentally a horrible place. The fact that I didn’t enjoy it probably proves that it did what it set out to do, and is a testament to the writer’s skill.
This book sets out a disturbing world, and sets believable characters within this world. It is a very good book, and I highly recommend it to all readers of science fiction that worry about the world. This is deservedly a classic, and it is probably one of the greatest works of speculative fiction I have ever read.
In the future, after a war leaves the planet ravaged, many people flee the Earth in favour of the colonies. They are promised android assistants on the colonies, and as with any consumer product, the quality of these androids must continue to improve to meet demand. Rick Deckard is a bounty hunter, hired to hunt down and kill escaped androids that return to Earth, and it is his lucky day. Eight of the latest model have just landed in his jurisdiction, and he is hired to go after the remaining six when his superior is injured in the course of duty.
Philip K Dick does a brilliant job of laying out the ‘new world’ where this novel is set. It is a depressing reality, almost hopeless, dark and dreary. People can alter their emotions at the touch of a dial with a ‘mood organ’ and it’s just as well, because any inherent joy in the world fails to come across in the story. And then there are the androids… fleeing the colonies to seek a better life in this bastardised version of the planet that we, the readers, know. It is a very unfamiliar reality but it is written so as to be completely believable. The characters, too, fit perfectly within the context, and promote empathy from the readers as they struggle in the world the past has left for them.
I did not enjoy this book, in the usual sense of the word… it was thought provoking, it was very well written and the plot was engaging and interesting, but enjoying it would imply I enjoyed moral dilemmas and suffering. Rather I accepted that it was so, because the writing made it convincing, but it was very difficult to like it. Some of the characters were likeable, in odd ways, but the plot and events described a world that was fundamentally a horrible place. The fact that I didn’t enjoy it probably proves that it did what it set out to do, and is a testament to the writer’s skill.
This book sets out a disturbing world, and sets believable characters within this world. It is a very good book, and I highly recommend it to all readers of science fiction that worry about the world. This is deservedly a classic, and it is probably one of the greatest works of speculative fiction I have ever read.
Friday, 11 July 2008
Review of ‘Excession’ by Iain M Banks
An Excession is an object that does not belong to the Culture, or that of any other species they know. It is beyond their current level of technology. Moreover, they have no idea what it is or how it does what it can do. It is potentially a threat. It potentially means the end of life as they know it. When such an object appears, everyone concerned rallies to try and work out what the object is, what it wants, and how to get rid of it.
As a novel, Excession is yet another example of the Fear of Editing. Aside from more typos than I’d usually accept, the introductory section of this novel is far longer than it needs to be. At least half of the book deals with introducing new characters (human, alien and Mind). There are innumerable names to remember, of ships and people and drones, and many of them appear only once or twice and have very minor roles to play. By halfway through, I was thoroughly confused as to which ships were aligned with which people, and who was on which side of confrontations. By the very end it is just about made obvious again, but I feel that a good editor could have encouraged Banks to be a little clearer.
Another problem I have with Banks’ less-edited works is his overly long sentences. Especially earlier in the novel, Banks seems to think that sentences are almost passé and decides instead to focus on the paragraphs. It makes much of it very difficult to read. Consequently, the first half of the book took a lot of reading to get through. The dialogue between Ships, especially, bordered on the florid and reading at any speed was almost impossible.
After that, though, the style starts to settle down a bit and get on with the plot. The story itself is actually quite good, as long as you can hold about a dozen ship names and several humans in your head at once. It follows a twisting thread of conspiracies, several strategies by various groups to attack or preserve or communicate with the excession. As each plot thread makes its way towards the conclusion, there is a definite sense of tension and intrigue. The ending itself is a bit of a disappointment, after all the build up, but as a whole the second half delivers almost enough to reward a reader that survives the first half.
In this story, the people are at worst incidental, at best pawns to the ship Minds. They have very little say in what goes on. While in some ways this makes for a unique perspective, it makes the story ring a little hollow. The ships themselves are quite brilliant characters and generally more interesting than the humans. The most intriguing thing is that they all think they are doing the right thing, even though this leads them to totally different conclusions. However, it is much more difficult to assign motivations and reasoning processes to AI Minds. As a consequence, the novel lacks a real human perspective to make it possible to really engage with the plot. In space opera, this is nearly unforgivable. Unfortunately, I also have trouble thinking of Banks’ Culture novels as anything other than space opera.
I enjoyed the latter half of the novel, but I felt it was excessively hard to get into, if you’ll excuse the pun. This novel could, and possibly should, be cut down to at most two thirds its current length, and then it would become a very good read. As it is, I wouldn’t recommend this book to any but the most devoted Banks fan, and certainly not to a first-time reader of SF or of Iain M.
As a novel, Excession is yet another example of the Fear of Editing. Aside from more typos than I’d usually accept, the introductory section of this novel is far longer than it needs to be. At least half of the book deals with introducing new characters (human, alien and Mind). There are innumerable names to remember, of ships and people and drones, and many of them appear only once or twice and have very minor roles to play. By halfway through, I was thoroughly confused as to which ships were aligned with which people, and who was on which side of confrontations. By the very end it is just about made obvious again, but I feel that a good editor could have encouraged Banks to be a little clearer.
Another problem I have with Banks’ less-edited works is his overly long sentences. Especially earlier in the novel, Banks seems to think that sentences are almost passé and decides instead to focus on the paragraphs. It makes much of it very difficult to read. Consequently, the first half of the book took a lot of reading to get through. The dialogue between Ships, especially, bordered on the florid and reading at any speed was almost impossible.
After that, though, the style starts to settle down a bit and get on with the plot. The story itself is actually quite good, as long as you can hold about a dozen ship names and several humans in your head at once. It follows a twisting thread of conspiracies, several strategies by various groups to attack or preserve or communicate with the excession. As each plot thread makes its way towards the conclusion, there is a definite sense of tension and intrigue. The ending itself is a bit of a disappointment, after all the build up, but as a whole the second half delivers almost enough to reward a reader that survives the first half.
In this story, the people are at worst incidental, at best pawns to the ship Minds. They have very little say in what goes on. While in some ways this makes for a unique perspective, it makes the story ring a little hollow. The ships themselves are quite brilliant characters and generally more interesting than the humans. The most intriguing thing is that they all think they are doing the right thing, even though this leads them to totally different conclusions. However, it is much more difficult to assign motivations and reasoning processes to AI Minds. As a consequence, the novel lacks a real human perspective to make it possible to really engage with the plot. In space opera, this is nearly unforgivable. Unfortunately, I also have trouble thinking of Banks’ Culture novels as anything other than space opera.
I enjoyed the latter half of the novel, but I felt it was excessively hard to get into, if you’ll excuse the pun. This novel could, and possibly should, be cut down to at most two thirds its current length, and then it would become a very good read. As it is, I wouldn’t recommend this book to any but the most devoted Banks fan, and certainly not to a first-time reader of SF or of Iain M.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
Review of the 2008 film ‘Prince Caspian’ (Chronicles of Narnia)
It has been years since I last read the Narnia books, and I can’t say I remember Prince Caspian terribly well... my references to the book come from a Wikipedia refresher. I also never saw the earlier production of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, although it received very good reviews from people whose opinions I trust.
However, none of us were particularly happy with this film, mainly because they twisted the plot into a standardised Hollywood epic fantasy. This film contained all that could be expected from such a film: swashbuckling battles, adrenaline-fuelled chases through woods on horseback, epic battles and even romance. The only problem is, this is nothing like the original Prince Caspian.
The basic synopsis is the same: the four children, Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy, are returned to Narnia after being summoned by Susan's horn. After working out where they are, they come upon a dwarf and discover that Narnia is now run by the Telmarine, who don't believe in the talking beasts or dwarves and other mystical creatures. And they certainly don't believe in Aslan. Prince Caspian does believe, and he should be heir to the throne but for his uncle, Miraz, who would rather his own son became the heir.
Admittedly, the film starts well. The scenes of the children returning to Narnia show their confusion and eventual realisation, and when they appear, fully kitted out as kings and queens of Narnia, they do look like they belong in that world. The dwarves and some of the talking animals are wonderful, beautifully animated and well acted. The centaurs let the side down slightly, with awkward movements and poor animation that makes them look more like a human stuck onto a horse, rather than a single beast.
Prince Caspian himself is, as well as a European heartthrob-wannabe, a well-acted role, encompassing much of the necessary moral dispute and attempts to marry Narnian with Telmarine culture. Aside from him, many of the human characters fell short of my expectations, through no fault of the actors. While C.S. Lewis has often been criticised for sexism, Susan’s exploits in this film were too reminiscent of Legolas from Lord of the Rings. When will Hollywood realise that an archer on the ground in the midst of a skirmish where all the opponents are in full battle armour with swords stands almost no chance? I can only assume that Susan was given super-strength for the purposes of the movie, that her arrows were tipped with a metal hard enough to pierce iron (when combined with her super-strength)… oh, and that her bow had a bladed edge.
Peter and Edmund were better: Peter was believable in the role of a sixteen-year-old with the memories of a king. Edmund played a more stoic role as sidekick and knight, but his exploits were within the realms of possibility, and certainly of fantasy and Narnian rules. Lucy was the most believable of all, slipping easily into the role of the youngest child, the healer who talks to the trees. It is just a small mercy that they didn’t decide to give the pint-sized heroine a sword and have her slash her way through the enemy with her siblings.
In terms of plot, this film includes battles that never existed in the book, and do nothing but call into question the motives (not to mention tactical abilities) of everyone in the film. An extra battle, never present in the book, only serves produce a blood-bath that is entirely Not Suitable for Small Children, and create unnecessary tension between Peter and Caspian. The only possible explanation for this extra battle-scene that I can find is to hold the attention of people who need an action sequence every ten minutes to keep them awake.
This film was not all bad. It is occasionally witty or heart-warming. There are scenes that arguably portray internal struggles and ill-wisdom much better than the book. But I was not happy with the way that Hollywood has twisted a story about chivalry and courage into an action-packed stereotype that uses every possible opportunity to create a bloodbath.
Even if you ignore the fact that this film was obviously filmed in the same place as Lord of the Rings, and that it often has delusions that it *is* Lord of the Rings, this film tries so hard to follow the Hollywood formula that it almost forgets its origins. I cannot blame the writers for wanting to modernise the story to a certain extent. The story line of the book can be used to draw rather obvious lessons about today’s world. But with ‘Prince Caspian’ the writers went too far the other way. In trying to create an action-packed film with characters and plot that the modern audience could Really Relate To, they forgot two of the most important tenets of writing this sort of film: to tell a good story, and to be entertaining.
However, none of us were particularly happy with this film, mainly because they twisted the plot into a standardised Hollywood epic fantasy. This film contained all that could be expected from such a film: swashbuckling battles, adrenaline-fuelled chases through woods on horseback, epic battles and even romance. The only problem is, this is nothing like the original Prince Caspian.
The basic synopsis is the same: the four children, Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy, are returned to Narnia after being summoned by Susan's horn. After working out where they are, they come upon a dwarf and discover that Narnia is now run by the Telmarine, who don't believe in the talking beasts or dwarves and other mystical creatures. And they certainly don't believe in Aslan. Prince Caspian does believe, and he should be heir to the throne but for his uncle, Miraz, who would rather his own son became the heir.
Admittedly, the film starts well. The scenes of the children returning to Narnia show their confusion and eventual realisation, and when they appear, fully kitted out as kings and queens of Narnia, they do look like they belong in that world. The dwarves and some of the talking animals are wonderful, beautifully animated and well acted. The centaurs let the side down slightly, with awkward movements and poor animation that makes them look more like a human stuck onto a horse, rather than a single beast.
Prince Caspian himself is, as well as a European heartthrob-wannabe, a well-acted role, encompassing much of the necessary moral dispute and attempts to marry Narnian with Telmarine culture. Aside from him, many of the human characters fell short of my expectations, through no fault of the actors. While C.S. Lewis has often been criticised for sexism, Susan’s exploits in this film were too reminiscent of Legolas from Lord of the Rings. When will Hollywood realise that an archer on the ground in the midst of a skirmish where all the opponents are in full battle armour with swords stands almost no chance? I can only assume that Susan was given super-strength for the purposes of the movie, that her arrows were tipped with a metal hard enough to pierce iron (when combined with her super-strength)… oh, and that her bow had a bladed edge.
Peter and Edmund were better: Peter was believable in the role of a sixteen-year-old with the memories of a king. Edmund played a more stoic role as sidekick and knight, but his exploits were within the realms of possibility, and certainly of fantasy and Narnian rules. Lucy was the most believable of all, slipping easily into the role of the youngest child, the healer who talks to the trees. It is just a small mercy that they didn’t decide to give the pint-sized heroine a sword and have her slash her way through the enemy with her siblings.
In terms of plot, this film includes battles that never existed in the book, and do nothing but call into question the motives (not to mention tactical abilities) of everyone in the film. An extra battle, never present in the book, only serves produce a blood-bath that is entirely Not Suitable for Small Children, and create unnecessary tension between Peter and Caspian. The only possible explanation for this extra battle-scene that I can find is to hold the attention of people who need an action sequence every ten minutes to keep them awake.
This film was not all bad. It is occasionally witty or heart-warming. There are scenes that arguably portray internal struggles and ill-wisdom much better than the book. But I was not happy with the way that Hollywood has twisted a story about chivalry and courage into an action-packed stereotype that uses every possible opportunity to create a bloodbath.
Even if you ignore the fact that this film was obviously filmed in the same place as Lord of the Rings, and that it often has delusions that it *is* Lord of the Rings, this film tries so hard to follow the Hollywood formula that it almost forgets its origins. I cannot blame the writers for wanting to modernise the story to a certain extent. The story line of the book can be used to draw rather obvious lessons about today’s world. But with ‘Prince Caspian’ the writers went too far the other way. In trying to create an action-packed film with characters and plot that the modern audience could Really Relate To, they forgot two of the most important tenets of writing this sort of film: to tell a good story, and to be entertaining.
Friday, 4 July 2008
Review of the 2008 film ‘Hancock’
There have been a lot of superhero movies recently and Hancock manages to be something more or less dissimilar from all of them. It is no mean feat to bring something fresh and original to the superhero concept. So many of these movies have the stalwart protagonist and the evil super-villain it is their duty to thwart.
From the start, Hancock sets itself up as something else. Will Smith plays the almost apathetic superhero ‘Hancock,’ a layabout bum who ‘saves the day’ but wreaks all kinds of havoc in the process, causing billions of dollars of damage to Los Angeles. Strangely enough, his alcoholism and generally abhorrent behaviour leave the people rather angry. The turning point comes when he saves the life of failing PR man, Ray (Jason Bateman). In return, Ray offers to improve the superhero’s image, make him liked and appreciated and above all, less alone.
For a while after Hancock’s montage of redemption, it looks like the film is going to turn into a run-of-the-mill superhero flick… he is the only superhero in the world, the bullet-proof strong man flies in to save the day - and he even has the shiny superhero suit. But then another plot-twist arrives, which stirs things up and makes the second half of the film a little more interesting.
The superhero protagonist in this film is different from the square-jawed superman image in outlook, if not ability. Hancock’s life has shaped him into someone that feels alone, rejected by the people he tries to help, and therefore he doesn’t much care about what he damages along the way. The superhero’s battle to understand himself has been used to varying effect in many such movies, and Hancock’s has a lot in common with many such struggles. However, the excellent acting and some poignant moments mean that the story is very well handled.
Unfortunately, the film is let down somewhat by its villains. While the parts of the movie that focus on Hancock are superb, the super-villain, if he can be called that, is a rather weak character, and his lackeys show less flare than a damp squib. This is redeemable only by the limited screen-time these characters are afforded, and as the plot isn’t a straightforward superhero-pits-his-wits-against-the-villain story, it is more or less whitewashed by the more important struggles.
Some of the camera work is annoyingly shaky, and the more critical members of the audience may find some of the story a little hollow, or not fully explained. Parts of the second half of the movie try too hard to increase suspense, while not explaining events or characters properly. Unfortunately, there is a fine line between too much suspense, and too much exposition, and the script fell just shy of it.
However, for most viewers, out to see an exciting movie with a lot of action and engaging plot, this film is entertaining and witty, if very, very silly.
From the start, Hancock sets itself up as something else. Will Smith plays the almost apathetic superhero ‘Hancock,’ a layabout bum who ‘saves the day’ but wreaks all kinds of havoc in the process, causing billions of dollars of damage to Los Angeles. Strangely enough, his alcoholism and generally abhorrent behaviour leave the people rather angry. The turning point comes when he saves the life of failing PR man, Ray (Jason Bateman). In return, Ray offers to improve the superhero’s image, make him liked and appreciated and above all, less alone.
For a while after Hancock’s montage of redemption, it looks like the film is going to turn into a run-of-the-mill superhero flick… he is the only superhero in the world, the bullet-proof strong man flies in to save the day - and he even has the shiny superhero suit. But then another plot-twist arrives, which stirs things up and makes the second half of the film a little more interesting.
The superhero protagonist in this film is different from the square-jawed superman image in outlook, if not ability. Hancock’s life has shaped him into someone that feels alone, rejected by the people he tries to help, and therefore he doesn’t much care about what he damages along the way. The superhero’s battle to understand himself has been used to varying effect in many such movies, and Hancock’s has a lot in common with many such struggles. However, the excellent acting and some poignant moments mean that the story is very well handled.
Unfortunately, the film is let down somewhat by its villains. While the parts of the movie that focus on Hancock are superb, the super-villain, if he can be called that, is a rather weak character, and his lackeys show less flare than a damp squib. This is redeemable only by the limited screen-time these characters are afforded, and as the plot isn’t a straightforward superhero-pits-his-wits-against-the-villain story, it is more or less whitewashed by the more important struggles.
Some of the camera work is annoyingly shaky, and the more critical members of the audience may find some of the story a little hollow, or not fully explained. Parts of the second half of the movie try too hard to increase suspense, while not explaining events or characters properly. Unfortunately, there is a fine line between too much suspense, and too much exposition, and the script fell just shy of it.
However, for most viewers, out to see an exciting movie with a lot of action and engaging plot, this film is entertaining and witty, if very, very silly.
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