If I had realised that the book was based on the film, I probably would have seen the film first. However, now that I have read the book, I will review it. Even if it is now a few years out of date (dating sci-fi is always a dangerous thing to do).
In the far distant past, a tribe of mankind's ancestors are affected by a strange alien crystal monolith, which gives evolution a nudge in a certain direction. In the (for the sake of argument) near future, a black monolith is uncovered on the moon. Two years after this, a ship is sent on a mission to fly-by Jupiter, using it as a sling-shot to grant it the extra momentum required to reach its target; Saturn.
This is a story told in three parts, and two of them, at least, I found interesting. The first section, following Moon-Watcher the man-ape as his tribe is affected by the monolith was interesting enough to keep me reading eagerly to find out what happened. It was perhaps a little slow, containing a lot of unnecessary detail, but it was not bogged down by them, and it got its points across very well. The second was more fast-paced, more intriguing and had a character I found it easier to relate to as he was swept away from Earth to a mission on the moon. The suspense as he made his way to the moon was very well done, and the pacing such that I didn't get bored before anything happened.
The third and final section, though, following David Bowman and life on the ship Discovery, I found quite boring. Dave himself didn't have much character, and the story of his life onboard ship I found dull and unnecessary: I have seen writers give much clearer and better descriptions with much less text and the story would have been better if this had been cut back. Perhaps the dull tone was there to be in keeping with the monotony of life on the ship; but it also has to tell a story, and for a long while nothing happened.
When finally things did start to happen (as I stuck with it knowing that they must) I found the attempts at suspense crude and obvious, the pacing (again) flawed and slow, and the peril did not feel real enough for me to be at all disturbed by it. When the famous scenes with Hal and Dave came about, I was reading dispassionately, and I wasn't particularly interested in the fate of Dave, Hal or any of the other characters. The ending, at least, redeemed the book a little, but even then it was a bit too surreal and strange for me to really get behind it. Perhaps it would have worked better on screen, but from what people have told me, they didn't get that far in the film... I have to wonder if anything actually happened in this movie.
All in all, I was not overwhelmed by 2001 a Space Odyssey. It was bland, quite interesting in parts, but not the science fiction classic that the film's cult following would have led me to believe.
Monday, 23 March 2009
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Review of the 2009 film 'Watchmen'
My first cinema trip of the year (it's been a slow starter, to be sure) was to see Watchmen, yet another superhero flick. I have to say that after watching it, it became immediately obvious where some of the inspiration for the Pixar superhero spoof The Incredibles (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0317705) came from. I should also say that I have never read the graphic novel, so my opinions might be different to those of someone that had.
The 'masks' started as a way of fighting back against masked gangs, but they became a superhero group. None of them, bar one, had any actual super powers; aside from intense physical training, fight-skill and gadgetry, these are supposed to be normal people taking on the masks. But they fought crime, delivered their own brand of vigilante justice, and the masked heroes became the expected day-savers. Later, though, as the second generation of masks came to fame, the public grew angry at the vigilantes, and eventually the masks were outlawed and the heroes went into retirement. The plot begins when one of the first generation of masks is murdered, and Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley), the only mask who never revealed his true identity to the other masks, investigates in the belief that someone is seeking out masks. All this on the background of the cold war, with the doomsday clock sweeping ever closer to midnight...
This was an incredibly well-produced and well-directed film. Everything in it fitted together supremely well, and the filming was exemplary. The special effects were brilliantly done, and while some of it documented unrealistic events, they didn't overshadow the importance of plot or characters. Equally, the costumes were all wonderful, and very much of the time; the 'classic' costumes belonging to the first-generation masks looked like they were made in the 50s, while the later costumes were better produced and looked more like they belonged in their own timezone. There was a lot of comic-book violence, with a lot of gory scenes in various places around the movie... all looked extremely realistic, terrifying and sickening. All in all, not a film for children.
The film also did a very good of mixing the fantastical elements with the realistic. Aside from Doctor Manhatten (Billy Crudup), a superman explained by a freak accident in a physics laboratory, there is very little that could not fit into the world as we know it. Night Owl's (Patrick Wilson) flyer (Archie) and glasses, and Rorschach's mask all stretch the limits of what was possible then, and indeed now, but there was a surprising amount of realism about it all.
What I found to be the best thing in this film, though, were the characters; all of the actors seemed comfortable in the roles, and while they were given limited space for back story, each of them appeared to have a real past, even if it was never explored. While Rorschach, Silk Spectre and Doctor Manhatten were given a reasonable amount of flashbacks, telling of their relevant past, the other characters all seemed to have just as much depth, complicated emotions, human reactions and thought processes... they were all very real, down to the slightly self-conscious, humorous slant they put on their being masked superheroes.
While I could accept Doctor Manhatten's super-powers as they were given a reason, albeit an implausible one, I was very conscious that the other characters were not supposed to have any innate abilities. Their strength and speed was supposedly the result of training and confidence... however, at various times throughout the movie I found the superheroes tipping over into super-human. I can forgive a lot in the name of plot, and in the end I forgave this as well, but I feel that the makers of this film should have chosen either to have outright super-powers, or kept the abilities of these heroes to within the normal tolerances of very fit and well-trained humans.
All I can say about the ending is that I felt it let the film down a bit. There was some very pretty filming sequences, but of all the film the conflict the characters were supposedly going through seemed to have the least effect; when it should have had most. Only Rorschach's outbursts had the same punch.
Overall, though, Watchmen was a brilliant film and I would heartily recommend it as both an excellent example of a superhero drama, and as an excellent example of the transition from graphic novel to screen.
The 'masks' started as a way of fighting back against masked gangs, but they became a superhero group. None of them, bar one, had any actual super powers; aside from intense physical training, fight-skill and gadgetry, these are supposed to be normal people taking on the masks. But they fought crime, delivered their own brand of vigilante justice, and the masked heroes became the expected day-savers. Later, though, as the second generation of masks came to fame, the public grew angry at the vigilantes, and eventually the masks were outlawed and the heroes went into retirement. The plot begins when one of the first generation of masks is murdered, and Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley), the only mask who never revealed his true identity to the other masks, investigates in the belief that someone is seeking out masks. All this on the background of the cold war, with the doomsday clock sweeping ever closer to midnight...
This was an incredibly well-produced and well-directed film. Everything in it fitted together supremely well, and the filming was exemplary. The special effects were brilliantly done, and while some of it documented unrealistic events, they didn't overshadow the importance of plot or characters. Equally, the costumes were all wonderful, and very much of the time; the 'classic' costumes belonging to the first-generation masks looked like they were made in the 50s, while the later costumes were better produced and looked more like they belonged in their own timezone. There was a lot of comic-book violence, with a lot of gory scenes in various places around the movie... all looked extremely realistic, terrifying and sickening. All in all, not a film for children.
The film also did a very good of mixing the fantastical elements with the realistic. Aside from Doctor Manhatten (Billy Crudup), a superman explained by a freak accident in a physics laboratory, there is very little that could not fit into the world as we know it. Night Owl's (Patrick Wilson) flyer (Archie) and glasses, and Rorschach's mask all stretch the limits of what was possible then, and indeed now, but there was a surprising amount of realism about it all.
What I found to be the best thing in this film, though, were the characters; all of the actors seemed comfortable in the roles, and while they were given limited space for back story, each of them appeared to have a real past, even if it was never explored. While Rorschach, Silk Spectre and Doctor Manhatten were given a reasonable amount of flashbacks, telling of their relevant past, the other characters all seemed to have just as much depth, complicated emotions, human reactions and thought processes... they were all very real, down to the slightly self-conscious, humorous slant they put on their being masked superheroes.
While I could accept Doctor Manhatten's super-powers as they were given a reason, albeit an implausible one, I was very conscious that the other characters were not supposed to have any innate abilities. Their strength and speed was supposedly the result of training and confidence... however, at various times throughout the movie I found the superheroes tipping over into super-human. I can forgive a lot in the name of plot, and in the end I forgave this as well, but I feel that the makers of this film should have chosen either to have outright super-powers, or kept the abilities of these heroes to within the normal tolerances of very fit and well-trained humans.
All I can say about the ending is that I felt it let the film down a bit. There was some very pretty filming sequences, but of all the film the conflict the characters were supposedly going through seemed to have the least effect; when it should have had most. Only Rorschach's outbursts had the same punch.
Overall, though, Watchmen was a brilliant film and I would heartily recommend it as both an excellent example of a superhero drama, and as an excellent example of the transition from graphic novel to screen.
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Review of 'Chocky' by John Wyndham
I am a few years older than the target demographic for Chocky, but a mark of a good children's book is accessibility to adults. My mum had spoken highly of it, as had one of my best friends, so I sat down to read it. As a children's book, it is an incredibly easy read... the narrative flow is simple and comprehensible, and the book is quite short. However, it was very accessible to me as a sometimes-adult reader, and it was another book that made up for my struggling through the Martina Cole at the beginning of the year.
When Matthew starts talking to himself and asking unusual questions, his parents think it is a phase he is going through. When he reveals the existence of Chocky, at first they think that it is an imaginary friend... an unusual phase for an eleven year old boy, but still something reasonable, explainable and above all fictional. Eventually, however, they have to face the possibility that Chocky is something else entirely, as Matthew demonstrates skills and abilities that no child of his age could easily pick up, and that no one has taught him.
The science fiction in this story is very subtle, and discovered only gradually over the course of the story. This made incredibly easy to immerse in the world, and meant that all the elements of strangeness, while quiet, stood out quite clearly as the narrative progressed. The main character, Matthew's father has a very down-to-earth attitude, which makes it very easy to follow his trains of thought and it is very easy to relate to his point of view. It is also very easy to relate to the character of Matthew; a sensitive, intelligent and above-all quite normal boy... with Matthew, John Wyndham has bypassed many of the usual pitfalls of adults writing about children, and Matthew comes across as a very real representation of an eleven year old boy.
As usual, I find it a struggle to come up with a balanced review; if I have enjoyed a book, its bad points fall behind... if I did not enjoy it, its good points usually escape me. The problems I might be able to pick out of this book all amount to the fact that it was written a few years ago, and times have changed. I find it quite easy to step my thinking back in time, but others might not. A feminist review might find the mother character a little irrational and annoying (in a sixties sit-com way), but from looking at my own mother (who would be about the same age at the time the book was written), I can see how the attitudes and thoughts of the time could have bred a woman (and family) that acted very much this way. A physicist or theoretical mathematician might question the logistics of the science fiction elements, but it's a children's books and the characters and story take precedence, so this doesn't really bother me.
In short, Chocky is a very good children's science fiction, and adults will also find it an easy and entertaining read. If you never enjoy anything that you construe to be 'dated' then you might want to give it a miss, but otherwise, I would recommend this to nearly anyone, even if they usually don't enjoy science fiction.
When Matthew starts talking to himself and asking unusual questions, his parents think it is a phase he is going through. When he reveals the existence of Chocky, at first they think that it is an imaginary friend... an unusual phase for an eleven year old boy, but still something reasonable, explainable and above all fictional. Eventually, however, they have to face the possibility that Chocky is something else entirely, as Matthew demonstrates skills and abilities that no child of his age could easily pick up, and that no one has taught him.
The science fiction in this story is very subtle, and discovered only gradually over the course of the story. This made incredibly easy to immerse in the world, and meant that all the elements of strangeness, while quiet, stood out quite clearly as the narrative progressed. The main character, Matthew's father has a very down-to-earth attitude, which makes it very easy to follow his trains of thought and it is very easy to relate to his point of view. It is also very easy to relate to the character of Matthew; a sensitive, intelligent and above-all quite normal boy... with Matthew, John Wyndham has bypassed many of the usual pitfalls of adults writing about children, and Matthew comes across as a very real representation of an eleven year old boy.
As usual, I find it a struggle to come up with a balanced review; if I have enjoyed a book, its bad points fall behind... if I did not enjoy it, its good points usually escape me. The problems I might be able to pick out of this book all amount to the fact that it was written a few years ago, and times have changed. I find it quite easy to step my thinking back in time, but others might not. A feminist review might find the mother character a little irrational and annoying (in a sixties sit-com way), but from looking at my own mother (who would be about the same age at the time the book was written), I can see how the attitudes and thoughts of the time could have bred a woman (and family) that acted very much this way. A physicist or theoretical mathematician might question the logistics of the science fiction elements, but it's a children's books and the characters and story take precedence, so this doesn't really bother me.
In short, Chocky is a very good children's science fiction, and adults will also find it an easy and entertaining read. If you never enjoy anything that you construe to be 'dated' then you might want to give it a miss, but otherwise, I would recommend this to nearly anyone, even if they usually don't enjoy science fiction.
Review of 'Axiomatic' by Greg Egan
Axiomatic is a book of short stories, so reviewing it becomes very difficult; do I sit down and review each story in turn, pick out a few favoured or disfavoured stories or do I just review the book as a collection? I choose to take a path somewhere between the latter two options.
Axiomatic is a very fine collection. Greg Egan is obviously very skilled in the art of the short story. Before I read Diaspora, I read the first short story in this book, and I really enjoyed it. It instantly hooked, explained events and the world over the course of the story and finished neatly in the course of the few pages allotted. This proved to be characteristic; with each story, Egan introduces his cast, world-builds and gives a plot to follow, each ending satisfactorily in a few thousand words.
While the title of the book might give the impression of a series of stories similarly structured and paced, the actual stories follow varying patterns, all of them interesting. The characters vary considerably, but all of them impress a strong sense of self within a page of reading them, and appear entirely self-consistent within their world. The worlds vary, and the topics vary. Egan explores many fields of science. He has a tendency towards hard SF, but he deals with it as well as he did in Disapora, and does not waste time explaining scientific detail over page-long expositions when the medium does not allow it. Character-driven hard SF takes complicated ideas back into the realm of the possible, and Egan did stunningly well in this for both Diaspora, and in this collection.
His characters vary from normal people in extraordinary situations, normal people in situations that are normal for their time (but nearly inconceivable in ours) to extraordinary people dealing with normal and extraordinary events. They are good, bad and neutral, they all feel very real and they all fit perfectly within their setting.
Obviously some of the stories are better than others, but people might disagree over which were the best. There is some continuity of narrative style, but that probably just proves that Egan wrote all of them in a smallish time-span, and is neither a negative nor positive point. Occasionally the stories deal with controversial viewpoints, or things that just didn't sit quite well with my own experience and upbringing. Again, though, I cannot fault the collection for this because I was made to think about my own world-view and experience, and that in itself is a valuable thing, and probably marks a good writer (even if I did not always agree with the conclusions).
Now to short-review a few of my favourites.
The Infinite Assassin follows a character walking into a strange disturbance of parallel worlds. The story starts in confusion, and gradually everything is explained until the plot rises to a brilliant climax and finished equally brilliantly. It was a thoroughly excellent and impelling read.
Eugene deals with a revolution in made-to-order babies and an attempt by one scientist to create the most intelligent child ever born. While the story itself is fairly slow-paced and descriptive, giving a lot of back-story into the characters and discussing their moral standpoints, the ending is intriguing, almost funny in its insight, but also very thought-provoking.
The Safe-Deposit Box deals with an altogether stranger topic; a man exists who wakes up each morning in a new host body, and attempts to carve out a life and his own personality while spending each day with different people, unable to have anything that is truly his own. It is a fascinating look at the adaptability of consciousness, and a very interesting world-view.
Into Darkness introduces a future world where a wormhole has become unstuck, and appears almost at random on the surface of the Earth. The wormhole goes one-way through time; from past to a few minutes in the future, and within the limits of the wormhole's area of effect, you can only travel one way. It becomes very easy to become trapped against a wall, and crushed by the inexorable pressure to move forward. The Runners go in to try and help who they can; to save children and other vulnerable people that are moving through the wormhole. The idea itself is fascinating, and the conclusion of the story almost frightening. This story really shows off Greg Egan's talent for making hard SF accessible to the world.
The stories I didn't enjoy as much dealt more with the concept of consciousness; implants to affect viewpoint, jewels that completely mimic the brain until a switch is made so that the jewel takes over. I did very much enjoy these stories, and they were definitely very skilfully told, but my own preferences tended towards the physical sciences, rather than the stories that discussed the 'magic' of consciousness. This is entirely just personal preference, though, so I would encourage other readers to give each story a chance. They are all brilliant in their way.
Being a book of short stories, Axiomatic was incredibly easy to read. Each little episode was terribly difficult to put down, and I found myself hungry for more after each story. If you want some excellent SF short stories to read, you could do much worse than Axiomatic.
Axiomatic is a very fine collection. Greg Egan is obviously very skilled in the art of the short story. Before I read Diaspora, I read the first short story in this book, and I really enjoyed it. It instantly hooked, explained events and the world over the course of the story and finished neatly in the course of the few pages allotted. This proved to be characteristic; with each story, Egan introduces his cast, world-builds and gives a plot to follow, each ending satisfactorily in a few thousand words.
While the title of the book might give the impression of a series of stories similarly structured and paced, the actual stories follow varying patterns, all of them interesting. The characters vary considerably, but all of them impress a strong sense of self within a page of reading them, and appear entirely self-consistent within their world. The worlds vary, and the topics vary. Egan explores many fields of science. He has a tendency towards hard SF, but he deals with it as well as he did in Disapora, and does not waste time explaining scientific detail over page-long expositions when the medium does not allow it. Character-driven hard SF takes complicated ideas back into the realm of the possible, and Egan did stunningly well in this for both Diaspora, and in this collection.
His characters vary from normal people in extraordinary situations, normal people in situations that are normal for their time (but nearly inconceivable in ours) to extraordinary people dealing with normal and extraordinary events. They are good, bad and neutral, they all feel very real and they all fit perfectly within their setting.
Obviously some of the stories are better than others, but people might disagree over which were the best. There is some continuity of narrative style, but that probably just proves that Egan wrote all of them in a smallish time-span, and is neither a negative nor positive point. Occasionally the stories deal with controversial viewpoints, or things that just didn't sit quite well with my own experience and upbringing. Again, though, I cannot fault the collection for this because I was made to think about my own world-view and experience, and that in itself is a valuable thing, and probably marks a good writer (even if I did not always agree with the conclusions).
Now to short-review a few of my favourites.
The Infinite Assassin follows a character walking into a strange disturbance of parallel worlds. The story starts in confusion, and gradually everything is explained until the plot rises to a brilliant climax and finished equally brilliantly. It was a thoroughly excellent and impelling read.
Eugene deals with a revolution in made-to-order babies and an attempt by one scientist to create the most intelligent child ever born. While the story itself is fairly slow-paced and descriptive, giving a lot of back-story into the characters and discussing their moral standpoints, the ending is intriguing, almost funny in its insight, but also very thought-provoking.
The Safe-Deposit Box deals with an altogether stranger topic; a man exists who wakes up each morning in a new host body, and attempts to carve out a life and his own personality while spending each day with different people, unable to have anything that is truly his own. It is a fascinating look at the adaptability of consciousness, and a very interesting world-view.
Into Darkness introduces a future world where a wormhole has become unstuck, and appears almost at random on the surface of the Earth. The wormhole goes one-way through time; from past to a few minutes in the future, and within the limits of the wormhole's area of effect, you can only travel one way. It becomes very easy to become trapped against a wall, and crushed by the inexorable pressure to move forward. The Runners go in to try and help who they can; to save children and other vulnerable people that are moving through the wormhole. The idea itself is fascinating, and the conclusion of the story almost frightening. This story really shows off Greg Egan's talent for making hard SF accessible to the world.
The stories I didn't enjoy as much dealt more with the concept of consciousness; implants to affect viewpoint, jewels that completely mimic the brain until a switch is made so that the jewel takes over. I did very much enjoy these stories, and they were definitely very skilfully told, but my own preferences tended towards the physical sciences, rather than the stories that discussed the 'magic' of consciousness. This is entirely just personal preference, though, so I would encourage other readers to give each story a chance. They are all brilliant in their way.
Being a book of short stories, Axiomatic was incredibly easy to read. Each little episode was terribly difficult to put down, and I found myself hungry for more after each story. If you want some excellent SF short stories to read, you could do much worse than Axiomatic.
Review of The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov
After a prolonged absence in which I was mostly writing for my novel and getting caught up with the 'real world stuff', I return to my review blog to tell you all about what I've been reading recently. Starting with this...
The Foundation Trilogy was always one of those pieces of classic science fiction I was told I had to read from an early age. I never quite got around to it until about two months ago, when I borrowed the trilogy from my mum and started devouring them page by page. They deserve every bit of praise they ever receive, even if the first book starts quite slowly.
A very long time into the future, Hari Seldon develops the field of psychohistory; an interesting social science, which uses statistics and implied complex mathematics to predict, with startling accuracy, trends in culture and probable future courses. Asimov explains this science as well as is possible without it actually existing; he always explains that it wouldn't be possible in a population of millions, or even billions... but with the galactic population numbering in the multi-trillions, it becomes possible to predict mob mentalities. And thus, Hari Seldon predicts the fall of the Empire, and thirty thousand years of chaos and barbarism before the rise of the next. In an effort to reduce the length of this barbaric period, Seldon sets up two foundations... plotting out the course of their future with a series of crises they must overcome on their inexorable rise to the beginning of the next Empire. The novels follow the story of the first Foundation, set up on a small planet at the edge of the galaxy called Terminus.
The first book, as I have said starts slowly. Perhaps this is not quite fair; the very beginning is as instantly intriguing and interesting as one could expect from any novel, and it draws the reader into the world of psychohistory. However, the first book is a slow progression, waiting for the Foundation to overcome the inevitable crises with equal inevitability; it's just a question of seeing what happens and how it is resolved. This is not a weakness, because the results are always interesting, but it does lend a certain security for the reader, which is not perhaps as powerful as a plot where events are assumed to be random and unpredictable.
Another minor issue I had with the first book was that it was very episodic. Each section follows a different character and just as you are becoming accustomed to one character, another takes his place as the lead role, and the story moves on. However, this is probably a limitation of telling a story that spans 300 years, and so I can forgive it.
The second book follows two crisis stages. In the first, a strong general has appeared in the Empire, under the last strong Emperor, set on conquest of the Foundation. In the second crisis, it begins to look as though Seldon was not as omniscient as he appeared through the first book and a half. Psychohistory is a tool for predicting the behaviour of civilisations, moves and movements, and motives of entire cultures; when it comes to individuals, the tool is much less effective. And so, when a rather singular and completely unpredictable individual known only as 'The Mule' appears, the Seldon plan is set off course by some degrees, and it becomes impossible to tell what will happen next. Suddenly, the actions of individuals are important again.
This turn in the book means that the story keeps on getting more and more interesting. From the relatively small victories and stories in the first book, the first tale in the second book is considerably more epic, following a wider cast of characters. In the second tale, the characters are suddenly more than just tools of the wider plot and the whole story becomes easier to relate to, and a whole lot more interesting. The twists and turns in the plot are the work of a real master story-teller, and at the end of the book I was left in awe of the way everything was set up so quietly and perfectly.
The third book continues in form, with intriguing and intense plot lines and increasing excitement. With the longer plots, there is more time to grow to like the cast for each of the sections, and they remain prominent for longer than in the first novel.
The conclusion of the last book completes the trilogy very nicely, although I can see why many fans, and Asimov himself, considered it unfinished. In some ways, I would have been happy had he stopped there, but the book does not complete the thousand year's interregnum, so the reader is left with a sense of the yawning time gap ahead.
Plot and storyline is definitely the huge strength of these books. However, the individual characters that are involved are also very strong, and each and every one of them was incredibly likeable – or dislikeable- in their own way. While some of the cultural trends and attitudes may seem very dated now, for its time it also had some very progressive elements. As long as the reader is prepared to accept that the writer belonged to a slightly different time (as one does when reading Shakespeare, or Jane Austen, or Dickens) then none of these things should interfere with the enjoyment of the rich and well-woven world that Asimov has created for this story.
The Foundation Trilogy rightfully takes its place among the science fiction classics, and I look forward to reading more Asimov in the future. I recommend this to any science fiction fan who has not yet read it.
The Foundation Trilogy was always one of those pieces of classic science fiction I was told I had to read from an early age. I never quite got around to it until about two months ago, when I borrowed the trilogy from my mum and started devouring them page by page. They deserve every bit of praise they ever receive, even if the first book starts quite slowly.
A very long time into the future, Hari Seldon develops the field of psychohistory; an interesting social science, which uses statistics and implied complex mathematics to predict, with startling accuracy, trends in culture and probable future courses. Asimov explains this science as well as is possible without it actually existing; he always explains that it wouldn't be possible in a population of millions, or even billions... but with the galactic population numbering in the multi-trillions, it becomes possible to predict mob mentalities. And thus, Hari Seldon predicts the fall of the Empire, and thirty thousand years of chaos and barbarism before the rise of the next. In an effort to reduce the length of this barbaric period, Seldon sets up two foundations... plotting out the course of their future with a series of crises they must overcome on their inexorable rise to the beginning of the next Empire. The novels follow the story of the first Foundation, set up on a small planet at the edge of the galaxy called Terminus.
The first book, as I have said starts slowly. Perhaps this is not quite fair; the very beginning is as instantly intriguing and interesting as one could expect from any novel, and it draws the reader into the world of psychohistory. However, the first book is a slow progression, waiting for the Foundation to overcome the inevitable crises with equal inevitability; it's just a question of seeing what happens and how it is resolved. This is not a weakness, because the results are always interesting, but it does lend a certain security for the reader, which is not perhaps as powerful as a plot where events are assumed to be random and unpredictable.
Another minor issue I had with the first book was that it was very episodic. Each section follows a different character and just as you are becoming accustomed to one character, another takes his place as the lead role, and the story moves on. However, this is probably a limitation of telling a story that spans 300 years, and so I can forgive it.
The second book follows two crisis stages. In the first, a strong general has appeared in the Empire, under the last strong Emperor, set on conquest of the Foundation. In the second crisis, it begins to look as though Seldon was not as omniscient as he appeared through the first book and a half. Psychohistory is a tool for predicting the behaviour of civilisations, moves and movements, and motives of entire cultures; when it comes to individuals, the tool is much less effective. And so, when a rather singular and completely unpredictable individual known only as 'The Mule' appears, the Seldon plan is set off course by some degrees, and it becomes impossible to tell what will happen next. Suddenly, the actions of individuals are important again.
This turn in the book means that the story keeps on getting more and more interesting. From the relatively small victories and stories in the first book, the first tale in the second book is considerably more epic, following a wider cast of characters. In the second tale, the characters are suddenly more than just tools of the wider plot and the whole story becomes easier to relate to, and a whole lot more interesting. The twists and turns in the plot are the work of a real master story-teller, and at the end of the book I was left in awe of the way everything was set up so quietly and perfectly.
The third book continues in form, with intriguing and intense plot lines and increasing excitement. With the longer plots, there is more time to grow to like the cast for each of the sections, and they remain prominent for longer than in the first novel.
The conclusion of the last book completes the trilogy very nicely, although I can see why many fans, and Asimov himself, considered it unfinished. In some ways, I would have been happy had he stopped there, but the book does not complete the thousand year's interregnum, so the reader is left with a sense of the yawning time gap ahead.
Plot and storyline is definitely the huge strength of these books. However, the individual characters that are involved are also very strong, and each and every one of them was incredibly likeable – or dislikeable- in their own way. While some of the cultural trends and attitudes may seem very dated now, for its time it also had some very progressive elements. As long as the reader is prepared to accept that the writer belonged to a slightly different time (as one does when reading Shakespeare, or Jane Austen, or Dickens) then none of these things should interfere with the enjoyment of the rich and well-woven world that Asimov has created for this story.
The Foundation Trilogy rightfully takes its place among the science fiction classics, and I look forward to reading more Asimov in the future. I recommend this to any science fiction fan who has not yet read it.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
Review of 'The LadyKiller' by Martina Cole
Since I started writing reviews, Martina Cole keeps coming back into the frame, because of the collection I bought all those years ago. I cannot in good faith give them away until I have read each book. Now I come to the penultimate book in the original set that I bought, and I find myself in the position again of reviewing a book I didn't enjoy, and trying to review it as objectively as possible. So here goes.
George Markham is a seriously disturbed man that starts out looking at BDSM pornography and ends up roaming the streets raping and murdering a string of young women. Kate Burrows is the detective inspector trying to find him. Patrick Kelly is a local hard-man, and father of one of the victims of Markham's killing spree. Patrick and Kate meet in the course of the case and start to fall in love over the background of tragedy, but love between a borderline villain and a senior police officer would be paved with troubles, even if there wasn't a vicious murderer on the loose.
The pacing of this novel is much better than of any other Martina Cole novel I have read. Rather than a biographical life story of a character embroiled in crime, this is a police investigation drama, where the reader has the advantage of knowing from the start who did it. The tension of the investigation mounts steadily over the course of the novel, as the police resort to more and more drastic methods of finding their man.
George Markham should be an interesting character, but aside from feeling a distaste for his views about women, I couldn't find him at all hateful or sympathetic. He wasn't real enough; he was another bland character brought to the pages. I couldn't believe in him, even as a psychopath. It was very disappointing. Cole tries to make him sympathetic by telling some of backstory and childhood, with his overbearing, controlling mother, but I couldn't believe in the mother either, so I didn't feel sorry for him... I didn't feel very much at all.
Psychologically, Cole's serial killer was slightly off. Markham starts out by watching snuff films, and acting as a peeping tom. Peeping toms do sometimes turn into rapists, but they usually do so by breaking into houses. Markham's first victim is killed in the woods near her house. Admittedly not many people will know the psychology of serial killers when reading these books, but often the devil is in the detail and here I was let down.
Detective Inspector Kate Burrows is a better character to me; she is a single mother living with her daughter and mother, trying to make ends meet. She loves her job, and has strict moral values. Theoretically she should be quite likeable in her actions as well; she has to deal with some sexism in the workplace, and keep a professional attitude when her home life is falling apart. However, again, Cole's writing style puts me off all of her characters. Cole states outright the character traits she thinks her characters have, without letting the reader come to any of their own conclusions.
Kate's relationship with Patrick Kelly is almost believable, but they both have fiery tempers, and start monologuing at each other at the drop of a hat. The constant repetition of arguments and heart-to-hearts and soul-seeking on the part of both of these characters gets very irritating, and with every rehash of a sentence to the effect of “no matter what he did, Kate still wanted him,” makes me lose respect for the character and the author in the same moment.
All or most of my gripes with Martina Cole come to her writing style. She switches point-of-view repeatedly in the middle of scenes, and she tells detailed stories about characters that will only be in the book for one scene in an attempt to make you feel sorry for them when their ends befall them. Why not let you feel sympathy through the family that have been left behind? Cole leaves very little about her characters to the imagination, but an awful lot about the places and rooms.
As before, I am finding a lot to criticise about this book, and little to compliment. However, after reading eight Martina Cole novels, I find myself still unable to enjoy them. If you can, then you will probably enjoy 'The LadyKiller' but I did not. I'm afraid I have failed in objectivity.
George Markham is a seriously disturbed man that starts out looking at BDSM pornography and ends up roaming the streets raping and murdering a string of young women. Kate Burrows is the detective inspector trying to find him. Patrick Kelly is a local hard-man, and father of one of the victims of Markham's killing spree. Patrick and Kate meet in the course of the case and start to fall in love over the background of tragedy, but love between a borderline villain and a senior police officer would be paved with troubles, even if there wasn't a vicious murderer on the loose.
The pacing of this novel is much better than of any other Martina Cole novel I have read. Rather than a biographical life story of a character embroiled in crime, this is a police investigation drama, where the reader has the advantage of knowing from the start who did it. The tension of the investigation mounts steadily over the course of the novel, as the police resort to more and more drastic methods of finding their man.
George Markham should be an interesting character, but aside from feeling a distaste for his views about women, I couldn't find him at all hateful or sympathetic. He wasn't real enough; he was another bland character brought to the pages. I couldn't believe in him, even as a psychopath. It was very disappointing. Cole tries to make him sympathetic by telling some of backstory and childhood, with his overbearing, controlling mother, but I couldn't believe in the mother either, so I didn't feel sorry for him... I didn't feel very much at all.
Psychologically, Cole's serial killer was slightly off. Markham starts out by watching snuff films, and acting as a peeping tom. Peeping toms do sometimes turn into rapists, but they usually do so by breaking into houses. Markham's first victim is killed in the woods near her house. Admittedly not many people will know the psychology of serial killers when reading these books, but often the devil is in the detail and here I was let down.
Detective Inspector Kate Burrows is a better character to me; she is a single mother living with her daughter and mother, trying to make ends meet. She loves her job, and has strict moral values. Theoretically she should be quite likeable in her actions as well; she has to deal with some sexism in the workplace, and keep a professional attitude when her home life is falling apart. However, again, Cole's writing style puts me off all of her characters. Cole states outright the character traits she thinks her characters have, without letting the reader come to any of their own conclusions.
Kate's relationship with Patrick Kelly is almost believable, but they both have fiery tempers, and start monologuing at each other at the drop of a hat. The constant repetition of arguments and heart-to-hearts and soul-seeking on the part of both of these characters gets very irritating, and with every rehash of a sentence to the effect of “no matter what he did, Kate still wanted him,” makes me lose respect for the character and the author in the same moment.
All or most of my gripes with Martina Cole come to her writing style. She switches point-of-view repeatedly in the middle of scenes, and she tells detailed stories about characters that will only be in the book for one scene in an attempt to make you feel sorry for them when their ends befall them. Why not let you feel sympathy through the family that have been left behind? Cole leaves very little about her characters to the imagination, but an awful lot about the places and rooms.
As before, I am finding a lot to criticise about this book, and little to compliment. However, after reading eight Martina Cole novels, I find myself still unable to enjoy them. If you can, then you will probably enjoy 'The LadyKiller' but I did not. I'm afraid I have failed in objectivity.
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
Review of the 2004 film 'The Butterfly Effect'
The butterfly effect, also known as chaos theory, states that a small event (such as a butterfly flapping its wings) has knock on effects that can have very large-scale consequences. As a child, Evan has blackouts, with large hunks of time he cannot remember. A psychologist suggests that he should keep a journal, in order to jog his memory about the events. Later in his life, he re-reads the journals and finds that he can remember the lost sections of his memory. Soon afterwards he finds that he can change what happens.
Conceptually, this film is very interesting. By changing very small events from his past, Evan has huge effects on his 'present'. His future keeps changing, he completely alters the outlook for himself and his closest friends. Sometimes things work out better in some ways, but usually they end up worse in others. By trying to 'fix' one aspect of his present, he 'breaks' another.
In execution, this isn't a bad film; it is quite well acted, especially by the younger actors. I have often said that American children lose their ability to act once they hit puberty, and the adult (or rather late teenage) actors seem to prove this somewhat, although the leading lady, Kayleigh (Amy Smart) does a very good job of portraying her various different possible futures throughout the course of the film. The younger self of Evan and Tommy were definitely better than than their adult counterparts, however. The special effects used are understated but very effective, when they are used; more fancy cinematography than computer generated effects, but there are some clever moments that meant that the style of filming carried the plot well.
The reasons I didn't like this film were more to do with the bleakness of the whole thing. There are odd moments of romance and joy, but they are all quickly overshadowed by depression and destruction. Evan begins to realise that there is no way to make all of his friends have a happy ending, from the start that he has. It isn't one of those sad films that you enjoy because of the deep emotion, and there isn't enough action to make this into one of the bleak but dramatic ripping yarns. The film was impossible to 'enjoy', because it was so dark, and it wasn't quite good enough to forgive this, and right through the end it was incredibly bleak.
Perhaps the reason that I didn't enjoy this film was because of the time I watched it (late night on boxing day)... but I didn't particularly like it, and I didn't find it as gripping or interesting as the concept of the plot would have suggested. It was a very clever film, and thus it's not a film I would encourage people to universally dismiss. It wasn't a bad film, but as a subjective viewer, I didn't enjoy it. If you tend not to like dark, 'think' films, then I would recommend you find something less depressing to spend your time on.
Conceptually, this film is very interesting. By changing very small events from his past, Evan has huge effects on his 'present'. His future keeps changing, he completely alters the outlook for himself and his closest friends. Sometimes things work out better in some ways, but usually they end up worse in others. By trying to 'fix' one aspect of his present, he 'breaks' another.
In execution, this isn't a bad film; it is quite well acted, especially by the younger actors. I have often said that American children lose their ability to act once they hit puberty, and the adult (or rather late teenage) actors seem to prove this somewhat, although the leading lady, Kayleigh (Amy Smart) does a very good job of portraying her various different possible futures throughout the course of the film. The younger self of Evan and Tommy were definitely better than than their adult counterparts, however. The special effects used are understated but very effective, when they are used; more fancy cinematography than computer generated effects, but there are some clever moments that meant that the style of filming carried the plot well.
The reasons I didn't like this film were more to do with the bleakness of the whole thing. There are odd moments of romance and joy, but they are all quickly overshadowed by depression and destruction. Evan begins to realise that there is no way to make all of his friends have a happy ending, from the start that he has. It isn't one of those sad films that you enjoy because of the deep emotion, and there isn't enough action to make this into one of the bleak but dramatic ripping yarns. The film was impossible to 'enjoy', because it was so dark, and it wasn't quite good enough to forgive this, and right through the end it was incredibly bleak.
Perhaps the reason that I didn't enjoy this film was because of the time I watched it (late night on boxing day)... but I didn't particularly like it, and I didn't find it as gripping or interesting as the concept of the plot would have suggested. It was a very clever film, and thus it's not a film I would encourage people to universally dismiss. It wasn't a bad film, but as a subjective viewer, I didn't enjoy it. If you tend not to like dark, 'think' films, then I would recommend you find something less depressing to spend your time on.
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
Review of 'War of the Worlds' by H.G. Wells
This is probably going to be a long review, as I have quite a lot to say about this book... so buckle in folks. War of the Worlds probably falls into the reviewing category of 'books I shouldn't touch with a 20 foot long barge pole', but I've opened the door on reviewing classics, now, so I'm taking the plunge. And because this is such a classic (and it's Christmas), I'm allowing myself to be a little bit more self-indulgent than usual (hoho).
After seeing two movies and hearing the musical radio adaptation of this book, the plot was not a surprise to me: In the late 19th century, a series of cylinders are shot from Mars, landing in and around London, containing the dreaded Martians and their unstoppable Heat Ray. Thus begins the slaughter and subjugation of humankind.
Style
This book kick-started a whole genre, and so it had to have been very good, and very powerfully written. However, by contrast with today's standards of 'powerful' this book was not filled with flowery prose and jarring statements. In fact, the most remarkable thing about the style was how plain it was. Written in a down-to-Earth journalistic style, War of the Worlds, tells the tale of the Martians from the point of view of a middle class man, a philosopher and writer. He could be virtually anyone, safe and secure in his post-Victorian steam age existence. Then the world he knew was stripped away, and he happened to be near the centre of it. He was not the first to discover the Martians' arrival, nor the first to see them; but he was among the crowd. It's an incredibly powerful story because it is so easy to relate to this incredibly ordinary protagonist and his plight.
One of the things that I found very odd about this book was that none of the main characters have names. The narrator refers to himself only as 'I' or 'me'; the other major characters are simply 'his wife' 'his brother' 'the artilleryman' and 'the curate'. While cameo roles are given names and explanations; the celebrities of the day; it is possible to put any name or face into the lead role. I have not read enough fiction from this era to know if this is normal, though I do know that referring to the reader directly was quite common at the time, but it struck me as both strange and a very useful literary device. By not naming his main characters, it is much easier in some ways for the reader to slip into their heads; to follow them without the separation of knowing that this is an entirely different person. Wells' oddest choice is also one of his most noticeable and powerful devices.
It is occasionally amusing how very last-century the writing style is. Sometimes the references to 'pop-culture' of the time fall flat on the modern audience, but the descriptions of the damage and desolation of places that are still thriving holds of civilisation in the modern-day never fall flat. In fact, I found descriptions I didn't quite understand much less annoying than the constant references of the edition that I had.
The Science
I never expected a 19th century writer to get all of the science correct, and knowing all that I did about the plot of the War of the Worlds, I knew there were many ways in which Wells got it wrong. For a start, we all know now that Mars is barren and probably lifeless... at least if there is life it is small, and almost certainly not intelligent. There is no 'red weed' giving the planet its colour. The Martian atmosphere is considerably different than ours, with almost no atmospheric oxygen. We also know that there are no current rivers or oceans, and that the ice caps are primarily frozen carbon dioxide, rather than water ice. Early on in his descriptions of the Martians, Wells mentions that there is no bacteria on Mars. From our current understanding of molecular, genetic and macro-evolution, it seems nearly impossible that life could evolve without this primitive first step, and nowadays we are no closer to eradicating bacteria than we are to snuffing out the sun. Also, what are the chances of life evolving on two separate planets that are compatible enough for them to use our blood as an energy source? What are the chances that bacteria that attack, disease and decompose human flesh would have such an effect on an entirely alien physiology?
However, from a century of extra knowledge it is very easy to focus on the negative. That's what suspension of disbelief is for. In the story, it only detracts from the events and the realism for a hair-splitting second, and it doesn't matter a jot in terms of the emotion and the tone of the whole story.
So I shall focus for a moment on all the things that Wells got right. This is a man that clearly did his research. He knew that the gravity on Mars was much less, the air necessarily less dense, the geology long since quiet and stagnant. The technological descriptions are at least conceivable, and his descriptions of the Martian's appearance and physiology is incredibly detailed, imaginative, alien and most importantly almost believable. The Heat Ray and the poison gas speak to a great imagination deriving from what was already known. From what we know now, the Heat Ray could be a very powerful infra-red LASER. The poison gas, though said to contain an unknown element, could be any one of a number of nerve gases or poisons discovered since then.
The Fiction
In my opinion, a lot of modern science fiction suffers a lot from too many scientific ideas, and fails to focus on the plots and the characters; the things that a reader can get their teeth into, and draws them into the world and its ideas. Wells does not suffer from this at all. His narrator describes all he knows of the Martians, but he does not let it draw too far away from the fact that the invasion is the important plot point. At the heart, this story discusses the human suffering, surprise and fighting spirit.
The main character spends much of the novel running and hiding; he is no hero. At times he is as far from the stereotypical hero as it is possible to be, but he recounts his every movement with supreme honesty. The War of the Worlds is more a story of survival than of warfare. Early on, the narrator and the reader both come to the conclusion that the technology of the day could not stand up to the Martian invaders. Though I knew how it was ended; though I even recognised many phrases that were used verbatim in the musical adaptation, I was nonetheless completely absorbed in the story.
The Conclusion
It is not surprising that Wells, among others, sparked the science fiction revolution. With such imagination and intensity and reality of these stories, if only one or two other novels at the time made this kind of grade, then it would prompt many other writers to at least try. With the next generation, the Asimovs and Arthur C. Clarkes, came a new degree of science in fiction, but War of the Worlds was one of those that sparked the revolution. Its pedestal is justified, and I would recommend it to you all as a literary and science-fiction master-work.
If you've read this far, I thank you... and a Merry Christmas to you. May it be altogether Martian free.
After seeing two movies and hearing the musical radio adaptation of this book, the plot was not a surprise to me: In the late 19th century, a series of cylinders are shot from Mars, landing in and around London, containing the dreaded Martians and their unstoppable Heat Ray. Thus begins the slaughter and subjugation of humankind.
Style
This book kick-started a whole genre, and so it had to have been very good, and very powerfully written. However, by contrast with today's standards of 'powerful' this book was not filled with flowery prose and jarring statements. In fact, the most remarkable thing about the style was how plain it was. Written in a down-to-Earth journalistic style, War of the Worlds, tells the tale of the Martians from the point of view of a middle class man, a philosopher and writer. He could be virtually anyone, safe and secure in his post-Victorian steam age existence. Then the world he knew was stripped away, and he happened to be near the centre of it. He was not the first to discover the Martians' arrival, nor the first to see them; but he was among the crowd. It's an incredibly powerful story because it is so easy to relate to this incredibly ordinary protagonist and his plight.
One of the things that I found very odd about this book was that none of the main characters have names. The narrator refers to himself only as 'I' or 'me'; the other major characters are simply 'his wife' 'his brother' 'the artilleryman' and 'the curate'. While cameo roles are given names and explanations; the celebrities of the day; it is possible to put any name or face into the lead role. I have not read enough fiction from this era to know if this is normal, though I do know that referring to the reader directly was quite common at the time, but it struck me as both strange and a very useful literary device. By not naming his main characters, it is much easier in some ways for the reader to slip into their heads; to follow them without the separation of knowing that this is an entirely different person. Wells' oddest choice is also one of his most noticeable and powerful devices.
It is occasionally amusing how very last-century the writing style is. Sometimes the references to 'pop-culture' of the time fall flat on the modern audience, but the descriptions of the damage and desolation of places that are still thriving holds of civilisation in the modern-day never fall flat. In fact, I found descriptions I didn't quite understand much less annoying than the constant references of the edition that I had.
The Science
I never expected a 19th century writer to get all of the science correct, and knowing all that I did about the plot of the War of the Worlds, I knew there were many ways in which Wells got it wrong. For a start, we all know now that Mars is barren and probably lifeless... at least if there is life it is small, and almost certainly not intelligent. There is no 'red weed' giving the planet its colour. The Martian atmosphere is considerably different than ours, with almost no atmospheric oxygen. We also know that there are no current rivers or oceans, and that the ice caps are primarily frozen carbon dioxide, rather than water ice. Early on in his descriptions of the Martians, Wells mentions that there is no bacteria on Mars. From our current understanding of molecular, genetic and macro-evolution, it seems nearly impossible that life could evolve without this primitive first step, and nowadays we are no closer to eradicating bacteria than we are to snuffing out the sun. Also, what are the chances of life evolving on two separate planets that are compatible enough for them to use our blood as an energy source? What are the chances that bacteria that attack, disease and decompose human flesh would have such an effect on an entirely alien physiology?
However, from a century of extra knowledge it is very easy to focus on the negative. That's what suspension of disbelief is for. In the story, it only detracts from the events and the realism for a hair-splitting second, and it doesn't matter a jot in terms of the emotion and the tone of the whole story.
So I shall focus for a moment on all the things that Wells got right. This is a man that clearly did his research. He knew that the gravity on Mars was much less, the air necessarily less dense, the geology long since quiet and stagnant. The technological descriptions are at least conceivable, and his descriptions of the Martian's appearance and physiology is incredibly detailed, imaginative, alien and most importantly almost believable. The Heat Ray and the poison gas speak to a great imagination deriving from what was already known. From what we know now, the Heat Ray could be a very powerful infra-red LASER. The poison gas, though said to contain an unknown element, could be any one of a number of nerve gases or poisons discovered since then.
The Fiction
In my opinion, a lot of modern science fiction suffers a lot from too many scientific ideas, and fails to focus on the plots and the characters; the things that a reader can get their teeth into, and draws them into the world and its ideas. Wells does not suffer from this at all. His narrator describes all he knows of the Martians, but he does not let it draw too far away from the fact that the invasion is the important plot point. At the heart, this story discusses the human suffering, surprise and fighting spirit.
The main character spends much of the novel running and hiding; he is no hero. At times he is as far from the stereotypical hero as it is possible to be, but he recounts his every movement with supreme honesty. The War of the Worlds is more a story of survival than of warfare. Early on, the narrator and the reader both come to the conclusion that the technology of the day could not stand up to the Martian invaders. Though I knew how it was ended; though I even recognised many phrases that were used verbatim in the musical adaptation, I was nonetheless completely absorbed in the story.
The Conclusion
It is not surprising that Wells, among others, sparked the science fiction revolution. With such imagination and intensity and reality of these stories, if only one or two other novels at the time made this kind of grade, then it would prompt many other writers to at least try. With the next generation, the Asimovs and Arthur C. Clarkes, came a new degree of science in fiction, but War of the Worlds was one of those that sparked the revolution. Its pedestal is justified, and I would recommend it to you all as a literary and science-fiction master-work.
If you've read this far, I thank you... and a Merry Christmas to you. May it be altogether Martian free.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Review of the 2004 film '13 going on 30'
The concept behind this film is incredibly silly, and another play on 'be careful what you wish for'. After a terrible embarrassment, Jenna Rink ends her thirteenth birthday party wishing that she was 'thirty, flirty and thriving,' like one of the models in her favourite magazine. The next morning, she wakes up as a thirty-year-old editor of the same magazine. Theoretically she has everything she dreamed of...
When I heard about this film, I never expected I would enjoy it, but it's actually quite amusing. Jennifer Garner plays the thirty-year-old Jenna expertly, acting in many ways like a gangly, growing thirteen year old that's just woken up in a grown woman's body. As she makes her discoveries about the world she finds herself in, she comes to face some harsh truths about what she's done to get where she is, and she deals with it admirably; trying to make the best of where she is and perhaps set right a few wrongs.
There are some incredibly funny moments in this film, and some lovely poignant moments. The inevitable love-story is delightfully underplayed, and doesn't end how you might expect it to. Though the ending is predictably cheesy, it didn't quite follow the overused route, and I found myself pleasantly surprised, and nicely warmed by the happy ending, rather than choking.
While the plot of this film is reasonably predictable, as most such comedies tend to be, it was dealt with quite well. There were moments when it broke away from the main plotline and focused on small aspects of Jenna's realisations about her age and status... these were, for me, the best parts of the film, and definitely the most funny, because I think if I was transported from my thirteen-year-old mind into my current body and life, I would have reacted to many things in a similar way.
This film wasn't a perfect rom com, and it wasn't a perfect cheesy teen movie; it had aspects of both, and of neither. It was not the most original, or the best acted story I have ever seen, but it was a lot funnier and more enjoyable than I thought it would be when I saw the trailer. I liked it a surprising amount, and I would recommend you to not count it out.
When I heard about this film, I never expected I would enjoy it, but it's actually quite amusing. Jennifer Garner plays the thirty-year-old Jenna expertly, acting in many ways like a gangly, growing thirteen year old that's just woken up in a grown woman's body. As she makes her discoveries about the world she finds herself in, she comes to face some harsh truths about what she's done to get where she is, and she deals with it admirably; trying to make the best of where she is and perhaps set right a few wrongs.
There are some incredibly funny moments in this film, and some lovely poignant moments. The inevitable love-story is delightfully underplayed, and doesn't end how you might expect it to. Though the ending is predictably cheesy, it didn't quite follow the overused route, and I found myself pleasantly surprised, and nicely warmed by the happy ending, rather than choking.
While the plot of this film is reasonably predictable, as most such comedies tend to be, it was dealt with quite well. There were moments when it broke away from the main plotline and focused on small aspects of Jenna's realisations about her age and status... these were, for me, the best parts of the film, and definitely the most funny, because I think if I was transported from my thirteen-year-old mind into my current body and life, I would have reacted to many things in a similar way.
This film wasn't a perfect rom com, and it wasn't a perfect cheesy teen movie; it had aspects of both, and of neither. It was not the most original, or the best acted story I have ever seen, but it was a lot funnier and more enjoyable than I thought it would be when I saw the trailer. I liked it a surprising amount, and I would recommend you to not count it out.
Sunday, 14 December 2008
Review of 'Diaspora' by Greg Egan
Generally I don't read hard sci-fi. While I appreciate that many of the ideas that take place within the more rigidly scientific framework are extremely clever, I am much more of a fan of novels that have believable and entertaining characters and stories, regardless of how scientifically accurate the world is. I find that a good story can make fantastical science completely acceptable, and as I read for fun, I feel justified in this opinion. Generally, what I read is space opera or at least 'soft' sci-fi, somewhere between the hard-science and story-based adventure.
Diaspora is the exception that proves the rule. It is an absolutely exceptional work of science fiction, that develops and explores incredibly complicated scientific ideas while remaining rooted around characters (albeit AI characters) that are very relate-able and likeable. This story uses complex ideas, but remains a story. In that, I feel, it is quite lonely in the hard sci-fi field, but it is a wonderful and shining example of what happens when someone does it right.
The world of Diaspora is set in the far future. People found a way to make themselves into sentient, practically immortal software by means of the 'Introdus' software. After this, they split into fleshers, remaining in human form, Gleisner robots (sentient software in hardware bodies), and the polises: supercomputer homes for the sentient software. Yatima is an 'orphan': a piece of sentient software created by the polis mind without input from any of the other intelligent software. The story describes the process of the orphan's growth through 'childhood' and 'adolescence', and then it shows what choices Yatima takes along vis path.
Through Yatima, we discover the world of the polises, fleshers and gleisners. It's an incredibly rich world, which has obviously had a great deal of thought put into it. When disaster strikes, Yatima's choices leave us in the centre of the worst of the storm, watching the devastation surround him. And then we follow Yatima as he leaves his birth-polis for a polis that is bound for the stars, in its diaspora, hunting for a world where such a disaster will never strike again.
In terms of story, I cannot fault Greg Egan for his imagination. His descriptions of the way his AIs are born is sublime, and incredibly realistic. It drew me in from the very beginning and I was hooked as Yatima grew up and discovered the world, even as I did. Later, Egan's descriptions of his more 'out-there' scientific ideas are clear, and almost comprehensible... he invents a science that feels like a logical extension of our own. Throughout the book, Egan describes the indescribable, making it almost possible for us to view the world in 5-dimensions, and to understand the complex physics that drives his world forward.
Where I would fault diaspora is that in trying to explore a head-full of ideas, Egan seems to split the book a little too much into separate stories. There is Yatima's growth, then there is the discovery of the disaster, then there are three stages of the diaspora. Perhaps it was because I read this book over a very long period of time (unfortunately being too busy to read much, this last month), but there was a certain amount of disconnectedness between the plots, especially as the central part of the novel seems to drift away from Yatima somewhat. The plot centralises around equally brilliant characters, but my familiarity with Yatima made me want to follow the developments more through ver eyes.
Finally, the ending seemed a little rushed, and a little too keen to wrap up all the remaining loose ends. It's as if Greg Egan was approaching a word limit, and had a certain amount to say before he got there. However, this is a common fault in many books, and it did not detract at all from my enjoyment of the rest of the book, or indeed of the ending itself.
I would recommend Diaspora to all devoted science fiction fans. It is brilliantly written, and even in its more self-indulgent scientific moments, the writing style has clarity and comprehensibility at its heart. Even if you cannot begin to fathom the ideas (and I think we're not really supposed to), then the story behind Diaspora is wonderful, and brings to life the superb hard sci-fi ideas that live within it.
Diaspora is the exception that proves the rule. It is an absolutely exceptional work of science fiction, that develops and explores incredibly complicated scientific ideas while remaining rooted around characters (albeit AI characters) that are very relate-able and likeable. This story uses complex ideas, but remains a story. In that, I feel, it is quite lonely in the hard sci-fi field, but it is a wonderful and shining example of what happens when someone does it right.
The world of Diaspora is set in the far future. People found a way to make themselves into sentient, practically immortal software by means of the 'Introdus' software. After this, they split into fleshers, remaining in human form, Gleisner robots (sentient software in hardware bodies), and the polises: supercomputer homes for the sentient software. Yatima is an 'orphan': a piece of sentient software created by the polis mind without input from any of the other intelligent software. The story describes the process of the orphan's growth through 'childhood' and 'adolescence', and then it shows what choices Yatima takes along vis path.
Through Yatima, we discover the world of the polises, fleshers and gleisners. It's an incredibly rich world, which has obviously had a great deal of thought put into it. When disaster strikes, Yatima's choices leave us in the centre of the worst of the storm, watching the devastation surround him. And then we follow Yatima as he leaves his birth-polis for a polis that is bound for the stars, in its diaspora, hunting for a world where such a disaster will never strike again.
In terms of story, I cannot fault Greg Egan for his imagination. His descriptions of the way his AIs are born is sublime, and incredibly realistic. It drew me in from the very beginning and I was hooked as Yatima grew up and discovered the world, even as I did. Later, Egan's descriptions of his more 'out-there' scientific ideas are clear, and almost comprehensible... he invents a science that feels like a logical extension of our own. Throughout the book, Egan describes the indescribable, making it almost possible for us to view the world in 5-dimensions, and to understand the complex physics that drives his world forward.
Where I would fault diaspora is that in trying to explore a head-full of ideas, Egan seems to split the book a little too much into separate stories. There is Yatima's growth, then there is the discovery of the disaster, then there are three stages of the diaspora. Perhaps it was because I read this book over a very long period of time (unfortunately being too busy to read much, this last month), but there was a certain amount of disconnectedness between the plots, especially as the central part of the novel seems to drift away from Yatima somewhat. The plot centralises around equally brilliant characters, but my familiarity with Yatima made me want to follow the developments more through ver eyes.
Finally, the ending seemed a little rushed, and a little too keen to wrap up all the remaining loose ends. It's as if Greg Egan was approaching a word limit, and had a certain amount to say before he got there. However, this is a common fault in many books, and it did not detract at all from my enjoyment of the rest of the book, or indeed of the ending itself.
I would recommend Diaspora to all devoted science fiction fans. It is brilliantly written, and even in its more self-indulgent scientific moments, the writing style has clarity and comprehensibility at its heart. Even if you cannot begin to fathom the ideas (and I think we're not really supposed to), then the story behind Diaspora is wonderful, and brings to life the superb hard sci-fi ideas that live within it.
Saturday, 13 December 2008
Review of the 1982 film 'Tron'
It's not often I review films that were released before I was born, or films that are cult classics, but I feel I owe Tron a word or two, seeing as I had the audacity to review 'Do Androids Dream...'.
Tron, alongside the book 'Neuromancer' should be listed under a definition of 'Cyberpunk'. The film is about computer programmers, running around trying to bring down 'The Master Program'; an AI that seems to have sprung up somehow. In the process, Flynn (Jeff Bridges) is dragged into the computer world, where he meets up with Tron, a program written by his real-world friend Alan (both played by Bruce Boxleitner), who has the potential to finally stop the master program.
Unfortunately, from the perspective of a 2008 film reviewer, this film sounds cheesy and cliché, but it's much easier to swallow when I realise that this was one of the films that invented the cliché itself. It's also quite easy to mock the special effects, which are funny if not spectacular, even by the standards of the time. However, in terms of story, the film makes up in entertainment, action and variety what it lacks in believability.
I enjoyed Tron, and not just because of the amount of giggling I could do at the scientific 'advancements' and silly 80's haircuts. It's very easy to see why it has become such a cult classic, because within the confines of this film, there lies the groundwork for a lot of similar themed stories that coped far less well with the restrictions of the genre. Throughout the film I found myself saying that it was a cross between two other films; which is fine until I realised that every one of those films (except Star Wars) came afterwards. And the obvious parallels between Tron and Star Wars are more amusing than annoying. I kept thinking of the 'Recognisers' as AT-ATs, and singing the imperial march whenever the Master Program's direct underling came onscreen, which just added to my personal entertainment.
If you call yourself a science-fiction fan, and you haven't seen Tron, it is a *requirement* that you do so, in order to retain your credibility. For sheer hilarity it is worth watching, but also take into a account all the limitations they were dealing with, and recognise that in 1982 this was a pretty amazing piece of cinema. I enjoyed it on several levels, and I was very glad that I got to see it.
Tron, alongside the book 'Neuromancer' should be listed under a definition of 'Cyberpunk'. The film is about computer programmers, running around trying to bring down 'The Master Program'; an AI that seems to have sprung up somehow. In the process, Flynn (Jeff Bridges) is dragged into the computer world, where he meets up with Tron, a program written by his real-world friend Alan (both played by Bruce Boxleitner), who has the potential to finally stop the master program.
Unfortunately, from the perspective of a 2008 film reviewer, this film sounds cheesy and cliché, but it's much easier to swallow when I realise that this was one of the films that invented the cliché itself. It's also quite easy to mock the special effects, which are funny if not spectacular, even by the standards of the time. However, in terms of story, the film makes up in entertainment, action and variety what it lacks in believability.
I enjoyed Tron, and not just because of the amount of giggling I could do at the scientific 'advancements' and silly 80's haircuts. It's very easy to see why it has become such a cult classic, because within the confines of this film, there lies the groundwork for a lot of similar themed stories that coped far less well with the restrictions of the genre. Throughout the film I found myself saying that it was a cross between two other films; which is fine until I realised that every one of those films (except Star Wars) came afterwards. And the obvious parallels between Tron and Star Wars are more amusing than annoying. I kept thinking of the 'Recognisers' as AT-ATs, and singing the imperial march whenever the Master Program's direct underling came onscreen, which just added to my personal entertainment.
If you call yourself a science-fiction fan, and you haven't seen Tron, it is a *requirement* that you do so, in order to retain your credibility. For sheer hilarity it is worth watching, but also take into a account all the limitations they were dealing with, and recognise that in 1982 this was a pretty amazing piece of cinema. I enjoyed it on several levels, and I was very glad that I got to see it.
Review of the 2006 film 'The Fountain'
The Fountain is one of the prettiest films I have ever seen. For pure visual spectacle, it is very much worth watching. With the soundtrack pushed up to full volume through the most awesome speakers we could get our hands on, it was an audio-visual masterpiece. Aside from this, however, there is also an atmospheric plot and excellent acting.
When I was first told about The Fountain, my friend described it as an extremely pretty film about death. This is a fairly accurate, but shallow, description of the main atmosphere. Yes, the film is about death and the fragility of existence, but it is also about the joy and pain of love. It is difficult to explain the depths of these themes without spoiling all of the plot, but throughout those who fear death walk hand in hand with those who are willing to accept it, and for all of them love of one kind or another is the driving motivation.
There are three seemingly parallel story-lines, each tracing a main character searching for immortality of one description or another. There is the past storyline, where a conquistador is going in search of the tree of life. In the modern-day storyline, the lead character is searching for a cure to cancer when he unwittingly stumbles across a cure for ageing. And then there is the future storyline where a space traveller journeys through space with the tree of life.
The messages in this film are far from heavy-handed, and to a tremendous extent you are allowed to draw your own conclusions about what the film is about; to the point that I have come across at least three different, completely plausible possibilities for how the three plotlines interlink. As such, I will let you draw your own conclusions about this, and instead focus on the aspects of this film that are easier to pin down and describe.
I have already mentioned that this film is visually fantastic; from the scenes set around a tree in outer space, to the more mundane image of a man working late in his office, this film is a cinematic masterpiece. Every scene is beautiful in its own way, and blends perfectly with the soundtrack. The soundtrack is a masterwork on its own, and it's probably worth watching the film twice, the second time with your eyes closed, because the music (by Clint Mansell) is stunningly composed and incredibly atmospheric.
Then there is the acting, and Hugh Jackman does a fantastic job in all of his three roles. Rachel Weisz, too, provides an admirable performance. The onscreen chemistry between the characters, too, is absolutely believable, especially in the modern-day storyline, and it makes the film that much more immersive.
The Fountain is a brilliant film that gives you a lot to think about, and three weeks after the occasion I actually watched it, I can think of little there to criticise. It is not in any way a fast paced action movie, and if you are incredibly keen that all of your plot points should be meticulously wrapped up at the end, the you might want to sit this one out. However, if like me you like all sorts of different movies, then watch the Fountain. Even if you don't 'get it', it is beautiful. And if you do understand and think about the themes that are driving through the film, then you will enjoy it on whole new levels. Even now, every time I think about this film, I get the warm feeling that I watched something very special and different from almost any other film I can think of.
When I was first told about The Fountain, my friend described it as an extremely pretty film about death. This is a fairly accurate, but shallow, description of the main atmosphere. Yes, the film is about death and the fragility of existence, but it is also about the joy and pain of love. It is difficult to explain the depths of these themes without spoiling all of the plot, but throughout those who fear death walk hand in hand with those who are willing to accept it, and for all of them love of one kind or another is the driving motivation.
There are three seemingly parallel story-lines, each tracing a main character searching for immortality of one description or another. There is the past storyline, where a conquistador is going in search of the tree of life. In the modern-day storyline, the lead character is searching for a cure to cancer when he unwittingly stumbles across a cure for ageing. And then there is the future storyline where a space traveller journeys through space with the tree of life.
The messages in this film are far from heavy-handed, and to a tremendous extent you are allowed to draw your own conclusions about what the film is about; to the point that I have come across at least three different, completely plausible possibilities for how the three plotlines interlink. As such, I will let you draw your own conclusions about this, and instead focus on the aspects of this film that are easier to pin down and describe.
I have already mentioned that this film is visually fantastic; from the scenes set around a tree in outer space, to the more mundane image of a man working late in his office, this film is a cinematic masterpiece. Every scene is beautiful in its own way, and blends perfectly with the soundtrack. The soundtrack is a masterwork on its own, and it's probably worth watching the film twice, the second time with your eyes closed, because the music (by Clint Mansell) is stunningly composed and incredibly atmospheric.
Then there is the acting, and Hugh Jackman does a fantastic job in all of his three roles. Rachel Weisz, too, provides an admirable performance. The onscreen chemistry between the characters, too, is absolutely believable, especially in the modern-day storyline, and it makes the film that much more immersive.
The Fountain is a brilliant film that gives you a lot to think about, and three weeks after the occasion I actually watched it, I can think of little there to criticise. It is not in any way a fast paced action movie, and if you are incredibly keen that all of your plot points should be meticulously wrapped up at the end, the you might want to sit this one out. However, if like me you like all sorts of different movies, then watch the Fountain. Even if you don't 'get it', it is beautiful. And if you do understand and think about the themes that are driving through the film, then you will enjoy it on whole new levels. Even now, every time I think about this film, I get the warm feeling that I watched something very special and different from almost any other film I can think of.
Review of the 2008 film 'Quantum of Solace'
I actually wrote most of this review some time ago, and completely forgot about it for a while. This week I have 6000 words to write in order that I don't fail my new year's resolution at the final hurdle, so in that spirit I thought I'd review all the things that I haven't yet had a chance to. Those of you with an RSS feed for this blog, I'm sorry for my length absence and sudden revival. Also, thank you. Now, to the review...
Bond films are generally renowned for their action content and the character of Bond himself. The peripherals such as plot and other characters tend to somewhat incidental, and merely tools to drive everything else forward.
Casino Royale, Daniel Craig's first Bond appearance, seemed to buck this trend, with an intelligent and honourable, if duplicitous Bond-girl, a dramatic as well as action-packed plot and a hard-edged Bond that leant away from the suave near-parody that previous Bonds had become.
Quantum of Solace, however, veers away from coherency in favour of flashy action and special effects. The plot, if present, is difficult to grasp and tenuous at best. At the end, every strand of plot I thought I had gathered slipped away again, and I was left with the sense that I had just spent two hours watching people running through odd scenes and having exciting car chases.
I enjoyed this film as an action flick. There were some fun, if stereotyped scenes of Bond running through burning buildings, across rooftops and swinging from ropes. There was lots of shooting and drama. The Bond girls were pretty, and feisty. They also followed the modern trend of Bond girls that weren't just kidnap fodder and eye candy.
The unfortunate and disappointing thing about this film was that, although all the elements of a great Bond film appeared to be there, they didn't quite fit together right. There seemed to be a plot until the end when I realised that nothing had properly been explained. The 'trust issues' that M feels towards Bond get old after a few re-hashings. And then the pretty action sequences just serve to further drive home that nothing makes sense.
After Casino Royale, this was a bit of a backwards step, but I still enjoyed it for its mindless entertainment value. If you generally enjoy Bond films, and chewing-gum-for-the-mind in general, then you'll enjoy this film as well, but I wouldn't go into it with your expectations set too high.
Bond films are generally renowned for their action content and the character of Bond himself. The peripherals such as plot and other characters tend to somewhat incidental, and merely tools to drive everything else forward.
Casino Royale, Daniel Craig's first Bond appearance, seemed to buck this trend, with an intelligent and honourable, if duplicitous Bond-girl, a dramatic as well as action-packed plot and a hard-edged Bond that leant away from the suave near-parody that previous Bonds had become.
Quantum of Solace, however, veers away from coherency in favour of flashy action and special effects. The plot, if present, is difficult to grasp and tenuous at best. At the end, every strand of plot I thought I had gathered slipped away again, and I was left with the sense that I had just spent two hours watching people running through odd scenes and having exciting car chases.
I enjoyed this film as an action flick. There were some fun, if stereotyped scenes of Bond running through burning buildings, across rooftops and swinging from ropes. There was lots of shooting and drama. The Bond girls were pretty, and feisty. They also followed the modern trend of Bond girls that weren't just kidnap fodder and eye candy.
The unfortunate and disappointing thing about this film was that, although all the elements of a great Bond film appeared to be there, they didn't quite fit together right. There seemed to be a plot until the end when I realised that nothing had properly been explained. The 'trust issues' that M feels towards Bond get old after a few re-hashings. And then the pretty action sequences just serve to further drive home that nothing makes sense.
After Casino Royale, this was a bit of a backwards step, but I still enjoyed it for its mindless entertainment value. If you generally enjoy Bond films, and chewing-gum-for-the-mind in general, then you'll enjoy this film as well, but I wouldn't go into it with your expectations set too high.
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Review of 'The Heart of the Matter' by Graeme Green
This book took me an incredibly long time to read, and I think in the end I only finished it through sheer stubbornness and force of will. While it was competently written, and had a very good style of prose, I found nothing at all to relate to within the whole novel.
The main character, Major Scobie, is an English police officer living and working on the west coast of Africa during the second world war. He has long since fallen out of love with his wife, but has such a sense of honour and responsibility that he goes on pretending and doing all he can to make his wife happy. He is an honest policeman, who never takes bribes even when most of his colleagues do. Then, his unhappy wife leaves for South Africa, and Scobie is left alone. He meets a nineteen-year-old widow and falls in love and becomes torn and tortured because of his strong Catholic beliefs and his desire to make his wife happy.
From the start, the joylessness of the situation made me less than eager to keep reading this novel, and it doesn't get better. Reading more than a page or two at a time had a tendency to either make me depressed, or angry that the characters could not extract any joy out of their life whatsoever. Granted that they are in an unpleasant environment; a long-term stay in Africa in hostile times, when one is used to the climate and routine of England is probably not the most enjoyable start. I understand that these people are living in adverse conditions; but while reading the book I was not given a single cause to smile. Even when the characters were reasonably happy, the dark mood of the whole novel brought it down so that each described smile had an air of falseness and fragility that made happiness seem fake, even impossible. Reading it became a chore. It was something I had to do because of an ingrained sense that once started a book must be finished.
I wish I didn't have that ingrained sense.
I'm sure there are people that could read 'The Heart of the Matter' and get some deep-and-meaningful message from it that transcends mere fiction and turns it into a literary masterpiece. Personally, I very rarely enjoy novels that try to impose their own world-view through fictional people. I read for enjoyment, and most of all I read for a good story and likeable characters. 'The Heart of the Matter' had a dull plot and lots of emotion-filled mood-inducing prose describing tortured people. I would have been much more interested if the story dealt with a hunt for diamond smuggler; a story about a 'tortured soul' in love with two women is not what I look for in my fiction.
It's not always that I prefer a ripping yarn page-turner to masterworks; but usually I need some element of the former to keep me reading. I loved 'To Kill a Mockingbird' because it had a suspense-filled plot, wrapped around a beautiful moral issue and characters that I could really relate to. It was a genuinely 'good book' that was also incredibly readable. 'The Heart of the Matter' for me had nothing. If there was a particular life-changing moral message in it, I failed to spot it. It was just an incredibly depressing novel. I don't even really know why I read it to the end. Really, I'd like back the hours I wasted on it.
The main character, Major Scobie, is an English police officer living and working on the west coast of Africa during the second world war. He has long since fallen out of love with his wife, but has such a sense of honour and responsibility that he goes on pretending and doing all he can to make his wife happy. He is an honest policeman, who never takes bribes even when most of his colleagues do. Then, his unhappy wife leaves for South Africa, and Scobie is left alone. He meets a nineteen-year-old widow and falls in love and becomes torn and tortured because of his strong Catholic beliefs and his desire to make his wife happy.
From the start, the joylessness of the situation made me less than eager to keep reading this novel, and it doesn't get better. Reading more than a page or two at a time had a tendency to either make me depressed, or angry that the characters could not extract any joy out of their life whatsoever. Granted that they are in an unpleasant environment; a long-term stay in Africa in hostile times, when one is used to the climate and routine of England is probably not the most enjoyable start. I understand that these people are living in adverse conditions; but while reading the book I was not given a single cause to smile. Even when the characters were reasonably happy, the dark mood of the whole novel brought it down so that each described smile had an air of falseness and fragility that made happiness seem fake, even impossible. Reading it became a chore. It was something I had to do because of an ingrained sense that once started a book must be finished.
I wish I didn't have that ingrained sense.
I'm sure there are people that could read 'The Heart of the Matter' and get some deep-and-meaningful message from it that transcends mere fiction and turns it into a literary masterpiece. Personally, I very rarely enjoy novels that try to impose their own world-view through fictional people. I read for enjoyment, and most of all I read for a good story and likeable characters. 'The Heart of the Matter' had a dull plot and lots of emotion-filled mood-inducing prose describing tortured people. I would have been much more interested if the story dealt with a hunt for diamond smuggler; a story about a 'tortured soul' in love with two women is not what I look for in my fiction.
It's not always that I prefer a ripping yarn page-turner to masterworks; but usually I need some element of the former to keep me reading. I loved 'To Kill a Mockingbird' because it had a suspense-filled plot, wrapped around a beautiful moral issue and characters that I could really relate to. It was a genuinely 'good book' that was also incredibly readable. 'The Heart of the Matter' for me had nothing. If there was a particular life-changing moral message in it, I failed to spot it. It was just an incredibly depressing novel. I don't even really know why I read it to the end. Really, I'd like back the hours I wasted on it.
Sunday, 19 October 2008
Review of the 2008 film 'How to Lose Friends and Alienate People'.
Having enjoyed the last two Simon Pegg films I saw, I expected to also enjoy this offering from the British comedy star. While I cannot say that 'How to Lose Friends and Alienate People' is even in the same league as 'Sean of the Dead' or 'Hot Fuzz', it was an enjoyable dig at both Hollywood star lifestyles and sycophantic journalists.
Simon Pegg plays Sidney Young, writer and editor for a failing magazine. He goes to great efforts to get his scoops, and is rarely rewarded. His writing style is sarcastic, bitter and altogether far too honest for most of Hollywood. When he gets a job offer from Sharp's magazine in New York, he thinks he's made it, but he rapidly realises that to succeed, he will have to give up on his honesty and start boot-licking with the best of them.
Simon Pegg has long-since proven his comedy acting ability, and I did enjoy his portrayal of Sidney as the slightly obnoxious English journalist. While he is a jerk at times, and definitely clueless, hapless and clumsy, he does come across as also being likeable to a sympathetic audience. I also found that Kirsten Dunst was better in this film than in many I have seen with her in, with the obvious exception of Claudia in 'Interview with the Vampire' which remains her greatest preformance to date.
Aside from these two characters, there are some other fantastic roles. The magazine owner, Clayton Harding, is fantastically acted by Jeff Bridges. He starts out as a cynical businessman who will play nice and kiss-ass to keep his magazine at the top... but Sidney alludes to his roots writing a sarcastic comedy celebrity magazine, similar to the one that Sidney used to write for. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that Harding hired Sidney through nostalgia for his honest journalism. This character development and interest is one of the most interesting part of the film.
The plot is reasonably predictable, and at any point most people could probably suggest the next plot development, but even so I found this film entertaining and very amusing. It had comic jokes and a large quantity of slapstick, and often it's humour was of the more painful variety, but even so I did enjoy myself at this film.
I wouldn't recommend you go to see this film with expectations that it will be as good as Sean of the Dead or Hot Fuzz, and if you are flat against humour-of-embarassment, it's probably something you should miss. However, if you are looking for something to entertain you of an evening, I can think of many worse films.
Simon Pegg plays Sidney Young, writer and editor for a failing magazine. He goes to great efforts to get his scoops, and is rarely rewarded. His writing style is sarcastic, bitter and altogether far too honest for most of Hollywood. When he gets a job offer from Sharp's magazine in New York, he thinks he's made it, but he rapidly realises that to succeed, he will have to give up on his honesty and start boot-licking with the best of them.
Simon Pegg has long-since proven his comedy acting ability, and I did enjoy his portrayal of Sidney as the slightly obnoxious English journalist. While he is a jerk at times, and definitely clueless, hapless and clumsy, he does come across as also being likeable to a sympathetic audience. I also found that Kirsten Dunst was better in this film than in many I have seen with her in, with the obvious exception of Claudia in 'Interview with the Vampire' which remains her greatest preformance to date.
Aside from these two characters, there are some other fantastic roles. The magazine owner, Clayton Harding, is fantastically acted by Jeff Bridges. He starts out as a cynical businessman who will play nice and kiss-ass to keep his magazine at the top... but Sidney alludes to his roots writing a sarcastic comedy celebrity magazine, similar to the one that Sidney used to write for. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that Harding hired Sidney through nostalgia for his honest journalism. This character development and interest is one of the most interesting part of the film.
The plot is reasonably predictable, and at any point most people could probably suggest the next plot development, but even so I found this film entertaining and very amusing. It had comic jokes and a large quantity of slapstick, and often it's humour was of the more painful variety, but even so I did enjoy myself at this film.
I wouldn't recommend you go to see this film with expectations that it will be as good as Sean of the Dead or Hot Fuzz, and if you are flat against humour-of-embarassment, it's probably something you should miss. However, if you are looking for something to entertain you of an evening, I can think of many worse films.
Saturday, 11 October 2008
Amanda Palmer in Concert - 10th October, Koko in London.
I went to see Amanda Palmer playing in London on the basis that I loved the Dresden Dolls. Until a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't heard any of the songs from her new solo record and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Would she play any songs I would actually recognise? What was she even like playing live? Would the support acts be any good?
What happened was one of the best gigs I've ever been to.
Let us start by describing the venue. If I could describe a place that would be the perfect venue for an Amanda Palmer concert, Koko would be pretty damn close. You enter the auditorium through a red-lit tunnel, and are immediately met by the perfect locale for a production of Phantom of the Opera. There are three galleries, each with their own bar, and standing room around the railings. To each side there are about half a dozen boxes. The walls are painted red, and above the main floor there is a giant silver disco ball. Above it, on the wall above the stage is an ornate carving, centred around a white-painted face. For all I know, this could have been put in place for this concert. But if not, then it was perfect.
The stage was backed by a sepia picture, and when we made it down to the auditorium floor there wasn't as much of the pushing and shoving that I've come to expect from gigs.
The first support act was Jason Webley; one man on stage with an accordion. He was beautifully entertaining and hilariously funny. I immediately have a huge amount of respect for a man that can not only get the audience to shout the word 'aardvark' in time with the Blue Danube's waltz beat, but can also make them spin around on the spot twelve times before singing a drinking song. And then there was the song where half of the audience were the violins and half the trombones.
Second up was Zoe Keating, a cellist. I didn't recognise the name at all, but as soon as she started playing, I realised the unique and haunting cello tones were very familiar. Turning to one of my companions I said “She's not by any chance related to the cellist from Rasputina is she?” “Yes!” she replied. “They have a one-to-one relationship.” Let's quickly pass by the small swell of pride I felt at recognising that purely on the basis of tone and quality and move on to Zoe's performance. She only played three songs, but they showcased her talent and heart. She gets a warm, entrancing tone out of her instrument that isn't quite like anything I've heard before. It is difficult for one girl and one instrument to make a full orchestrated sound, but Zoe used a relatively simple backing medley, introducing each theme on her real cello before the backing picked them up. Her way of playing, and the music she played were beautiful. While many talked through her performance, I stood entranced, watching her play and listening to the sounds she was producing. She was really incredible.
The tour is for an album called 'Who killed Amanda Palmer' so of course, Amanda was dead throughout these early stages... ready to come alive to play for us. The compère came on, telling us of the sadness and joy of the occasion... and then he introduced the man that was to introduce Amanda. Neil Gaiman.
If I wasn't already having a fantastic time, having Neil Gaiman come on to introduce the main act just about made my night. He read a piece that he'd written about people asking the question 'who killed Amanda Palmer'. And it was beautiful, and he read it perfectly. As you'd expect of a writer of the talent of Neil Gaiman. Gosh I need to read more of his stuff...
As I've already stated, the crowd was pretty friendly. So when someone comes past me around the outside of the auditorium wearing a purple veil, I didn't think too much of it. After all, this was an Amanda Palmer concert... I was one of the most 'normally' dressed people there, and I was wearing stripy fingerless gloves with mitten-tops. Corsets, pill-box hats, white-painted faces and black lacy skirts were pretty much the norm. Then one of the people to my right pointed and said to one of their friends “She's here.” Then, listening to Neil's speech from the front, I watched the veiled figure slowly make her way forward. On the stage, four people slowly made their way onto the stage, their expressions glassy and their movements robotic.
Amanda Palmer arrived... and came back from the dead to play 'Astronaut'; the one song from her new album that I had already heard. It was incredible.
Alongside her were Zoe Keating on cello and Lyndon Chester on violin. Both are amazingly talented musicians, who complemented Amanda's style perfectly, shining without overwhelming the lady herself. The four people on stage with glassy expressions were the physical theatre group the Danger Ensemble. Throughout the show they provided visual aid, dancing and mood-enhancement to the whole experience. They were fantastic.
Amanda herself was, of course, the highlight and centrepiece. Performing with one foot in a cast and being carried to and from the front of the stage by one of the Danger Ensemble, she was incredible. As well as singing live as well if not better than she does on her albums, she managed to convey comedy and drama and emotion with every song. It was interesting listening to her talk about her songs, talking about the people with her, and talking about the things she was doing. She was genuinely funny, and she seemed to be really enjoying herself on stage, which always makes tonnes of difference to the amount the audience enjoy a show.
As well as songs from her new album, Amanda performed some of the hits from the Dresden Dolls, including my personal favourite coin-operated boy. I was laughing out loud during the first verses, watching the performances of the Danger Ensemble, and I was almost in tears during the bridge. I also almost started crying during a song she wrote about the Columbine high school shootings. At the beginning of the song, Lyndon read out a list of the injuries and deaths from that event... it made all the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up on end.
For one song, Neil Gaiman and Jason Webley came back out on stage; Jason on guitar and Neil on tambourine. Neil also wrote the lyrics to one of the songs that Amanda sang; a jazz-style song that she described as the modern answer to the Sinatra-era songs describing heart-sick people in smoky bars being counselled by their bartender. (Paraphrased) “When you're in the last part of a relationship, and you're in that dark place, you're sitting at home doing something... you all know what it is...” Then she moved on to sing “I google you...” and it had such comedic and tragic punch. It was absolutely beautiful.
In the final stages of the concert, Amanda also sang a couple of covers; most notable 'livin' on a prayer' by Bon Jovi, with the whole audience singing along at the top of their lungs. It was an incredible moment.
Until I went to this concert, I never really understood what 'punk cabaret' was all about. Until I heard Amanda sing for real, and saw the comedy she could inject into tragic songs just with her facial expressions, I didn't know what Amanda really represented, aside from a fantastic musical talent. She stayed cool through what she described as her 'first ever wardrobe malfunction' and she took off her corset (leaving a very pretty lacy upper) to sing the last song to prove a point to her record label that she's happy with her appearance and doesn't want to pander to current trends. I had a tremendous amount of respect for her as a musician already and this has grown exponentially after seeing her in the flesh.
Her music may not appeal to everyone, but dammit if she doesn't know how to put on a fabulous show. I can't *believe* I was considering not going.
What happened was one of the best gigs I've ever been to.
Let us start by describing the venue. If I could describe a place that would be the perfect venue for an Amanda Palmer concert, Koko would be pretty damn close. You enter the auditorium through a red-lit tunnel, and are immediately met by the perfect locale for a production of Phantom of the Opera. There are three galleries, each with their own bar, and standing room around the railings. To each side there are about half a dozen boxes. The walls are painted red, and above the main floor there is a giant silver disco ball. Above it, on the wall above the stage is an ornate carving, centred around a white-painted face. For all I know, this could have been put in place for this concert. But if not, then it was perfect.
The stage was backed by a sepia picture, and when we made it down to the auditorium floor there wasn't as much of the pushing and shoving that I've come to expect from gigs.
The first support act was Jason Webley; one man on stage with an accordion. He was beautifully entertaining and hilariously funny. I immediately have a huge amount of respect for a man that can not only get the audience to shout the word 'aardvark' in time with the Blue Danube's waltz beat, but can also make them spin around on the spot twelve times before singing a drinking song. And then there was the song where half of the audience were the violins and half the trombones.
Second up was Zoe Keating, a cellist. I didn't recognise the name at all, but as soon as she started playing, I realised the unique and haunting cello tones were very familiar. Turning to one of my companions I said “She's not by any chance related to the cellist from Rasputina is she?” “Yes!” she replied. “They have a one-to-one relationship.” Let's quickly pass by the small swell of pride I felt at recognising that purely on the basis of tone and quality and move on to Zoe's performance. She only played three songs, but they showcased her talent and heart. She gets a warm, entrancing tone out of her instrument that isn't quite like anything I've heard before. It is difficult for one girl and one instrument to make a full orchestrated sound, but Zoe used a relatively simple backing medley, introducing each theme on her real cello before the backing picked them up. Her way of playing, and the music she played were beautiful. While many talked through her performance, I stood entranced, watching her play and listening to the sounds she was producing. She was really incredible.
The tour is for an album called 'Who killed Amanda Palmer' so of course, Amanda was dead throughout these early stages... ready to come alive to play for us. The compère came on, telling us of the sadness and joy of the occasion... and then he introduced the man that was to introduce Amanda. Neil Gaiman.
If I wasn't already having a fantastic time, having Neil Gaiman come on to introduce the main act just about made my night. He read a piece that he'd written about people asking the question 'who killed Amanda Palmer'. And it was beautiful, and he read it perfectly. As you'd expect of a writer of the talent of Neil Gaiman. Gosh I need to read more of his stuff...
As I've already stated, the crowd was pretty friendly. So when someone comes past me around the outside of the auditorium wearing a purple veil, I didn't think too much of it. After all, this was an Amanda Palmer concert... I was one of the most 'normally' dressed people there, and I was wearing stripy fingerless gloves with mitten-tops. Corsets, pill-box hats, white-painted faces and black lacy skirts were pretty much the norm. Then one of the people to my right pointed and said to one of their friends “She's here.” Then, listening to Neil's speech from the front, I watched the veiled figure slowly make her way forward. On the stage, four people slowly made their way onto the stage, their expressions glassy and their movements robotic.
Amanda Palmer arrived... and came back from the dead to play 'Astronaut'; the one song from her new album that I had already heard. It was incredible.
Alongside her were Zoe Keating on cello and Lyndon Chester on violin. Both are amazingly talented musicians, who complemented Amanda's style perfectly, shining without overwhelming the lady herself. The four people on stage with glassy expressions were the physical theatre group the Danger Ensemble. Throughout the show they provided visual aid, dancing and mood-enhancement to the whole experience. They were fantastic.
Amanda herself was, of course, the highlight and centrepiece. Performing with one foot in a cast and being carried to and from the front of the stage by one of the Danger Ensemble, she was incredible. As well as singing live as well if not better than she does on her albums, she managed to convey comedy and drama and emotion with every song. It was interesting listening to her talk about her songs, talking about the people with her, and talking about the things she was doing. She was genuinely funny, and she seemed to be really enjoying herself on stage, which always makes tonnes of difference to the amount the audience enjoy a show.
As well as songs from her new album, Amanda performed some of the hits from the Dresden Dolls, including my personal favourite coin-operated boy. I was laughing out loud during the first verses, watching the performances of the Danger Ensemble, and I was almost in tears during the bridge. I also almost started crying during a song she wrote about the Columbine high school shootings. At the beginning of the song, Lyndon read out a list of the injuries and deaths from that event... it made all the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up on end.
For one song, Neil Gaiman and Jason Webley came back out on stage; Jason on guitar and Neil on tambourine. Neil also wrote the lyrics to one of the songs that Amanda sang; a jazz-style song that she described as the modern answer to the Sinatra-era songs describing heart-sick people in smoky bars being counselled by their bartender. (Paraphrased) “When you're in the last part of a relationship, and you're in that dark place, you're sitting at home doing something... you all know what it is...” Then she moved on to sing “I google you...” and it had such comedic and tragic punch. It was absolutely beautiful.
In the final stages of the concert, Amanda also sang a couple of covers; most notable 'livin' on a prayer' by Bon Jovi, with the whole audience singing along at the top of their lungs. It was an incredible moment.
Until I went to this concert, I never really understood what 'punk cabaret' was all about. Until I heard Amanda sing for real, and saw the comedy she could inject into tragic songs just with her facial expressions, I didn't know what Amanda really represented, aside from a fantastic musical talent. She stayed cool through what she described as her 'first ever wardrobe malfunction' and she took off her corset (leaving a very pretty lacy upper) to sing the last song to prove a point to her record label that she's happy with her appearance and doesn't want to pander to current trends. I had a tremendous amount of respect for her as a musician already and this has grown exponentially after seeing her in the flesh.
Her music may not appeal to everyone, but dammit if she doesn't know how to put on a fabulous show. I can't *believe* I was considering not going.
Review of the 2007 film 'Ghost Rider'
Johnny Blaze and his father are a motorcycle stunt duo. When he finds out that his girlfriend is leaving town, he makes plans to run away with her until he finds out that his father is dying of cancer. And then a stranger arrives telling him that he can cure his father's disease if he makes a deal. A deal for his soul that will turn young Johnny Blaze into the Ghost Rider.
Ghost rider is an amusing film, with spectacular effects, but it is by no means the best film I have ever seen. The lead role, Johnny Blaze, played by Nicholas Cage, has a classic redemption storyline. He acts it well, but as with many films of the same ilk, I find myself far more interested by the antagonist leads. Mephistopheles, the devil (Peter Fonda) has a great blend of charm and evil. He pulls off the helpful stranger looking to make a deal, and then he pulls of the ironic trickster that causes the lead to fall. Likewise, the devil's son, Blackheart (Wes Bentley) plays a convincing evil bastard.
Roxanne, the female lead, lets the side down massively with her vacuous why-don't-you-love-me expression and her collagen face. Her role as journalist and love interest give her little opportunity to make a positive impact on the plot, and she mostly gets in the way. I found her very annoying, making the obvious observations and the very obvious responses to every situation that she finds herself in. Perhaps I found her more annoying having read quite a few Heroine Content reviews recently, but even so, Roxanne was far too typical of the superhero genre to be a very good character.
The plot of ghost rider is somewhat predictable, but still entertaining. The devil's son is seeking one of the devil's contract, which will give him the power of a thousand evil souls, which would give him horrendous amounts of power on Earth. Obviously, his father does not want this to happen, so he calls the ghost rider back into existence and sends him out to take his son and send him back to hell. Along the way, the rider fights the lackeys, upsets the female lead, has to show off his motorbiking skills to their grandest extent and of course there is the inevitable police chase. The police, of course, aren't put off by the fact that they are chasing a flaming skeleton riding a bike which is also on fire.
I think the main problem I had with this film was that it didn't have much substance beyond looking cool. There was no real underlying tension, and there was never any doubt that the good guy was going to win. Even the ending cue-for-a-sequel sequence was predictable, even though it didn't make a huge amount of sense. However, maybe I expected too much... Ghost Rider was a silly comic-book action flick, and operated very well within those borders. For cheesy entertainment, Ghost Rider is very watch-able.
Ghost rider is an amusing film, with spectacular effects, but it is by no means the best film I have ever seen. The lead role, Johnny Blaze, played by Nicholas Cage, has a classic redemption storyline. He acts it well, but as with many films of the same ilk, I find myself far more interested by the antagonist leads. Mephistopheles, the devil (Peter Fonda) has a great blend of charm and evil. He pulls off the helpful stranger looking to make a deal, and then he pulls of the ironic trickster that causes the lead to fall. Likewise, the devil's son, Blackheart (Wes Bentley) plays a convincing evil bastard.
Roxanne, the female lead, lets the side down massively with her vacuous why-don't-you-love-me expression and her collagen face. Her role as journalist and love interest give her little opportunity to make a positive impact on the plot, and she mostly gets in the way. I found her very annoying, making the obvious observations and the very obvious responses to every situation that she finds herself in. Perhaps I found her more annoying having read quite a few Heroine Content reviews recently, but even so, Roxanne was far too typical of the superhero genre to be a very good character.
The plot of ghost rider is somewhat predictable, but still entertaining. The devil's son is seeking one of the devil's contract, which will give him the power of a thousand evil souls, which would give him horrendous amounts of power on Earth. Obviously, his father does not want this to happen, so he calls the ghost rider back into existence and sends him out to take his son and send him back to hell. Along the way, the rider fights the lackeys, upsets the female lead, has to show off his motorbiking skills to their grandest extent and of course there is the inevitable police chase. The police, of course, aren't put off by the fact that they are chasing a flaming skeleton riding a bike which is also on fire.
I think the main problem I had with this film was that it didn't have much substance beyond looking cool. There was no real underlying tension, and there was never any doubt that the good guy was going to win. Even the ending cue-for-a-sequel sequence was predictable, even though it didn't make a huge amount of sense. However, maybe I expected too much... Ghost Rider was a silly comic-book action flick, and operated very well within those borders. For cheesy entertainment, Ghost Rider is very watch-able.
Sunday, 28 September 2008
Review of 'Blink' by Malcolm Gladwell
Blink is a book about the power of judging a book by its cover, and how our snap decisions are often completely right. It is well written and laced with comprehensive examples and expert research and opinions. It provides a compelling argument for the power of training, and the usefulness of quick evaluations; and for the times when the snap decision is not quite as useful.
Dealing with such wide-ranging issues as art-experts being able to instantly spot a fake, the uses (and failures) of market research, and why policemen sometimes get things tragically wrong, 'blink' looks at situations we experience, or hear about on a regular basis. It takes each one apart, explains the inner workings, and then puts it back together again, polishing it off with the new knowledge gained from an understanding of the unconscious mind.
If you have the slightest interest in how the human mind works, then I would recommend 'blink' as an example of brilliant pop psychology. It is written for an interested, non-technical audience, and is very accessible. It is also very readable, occasionally witty and often thought-provoking. As I read 'Blink' I started to view the world in a subtly different light. I don't think I will ever dismiss a gut-instinct as easily again.
Dealing with such wide-ranging issues as art-experts being able to instantly spot a fake, the uses (and failures) of market research, and why policemen sometimes get things tragically wrong, 'blink' looks at situations we experience, or hear about on a regular basis. It takes each one apart, explains the inner workings, and then puts it back together again, polishing it off with the new knowledge gained from an understanding of the unconscious mind.
If you have the slightest interest in how the human mind works, then I would recommend 'blink' as an example of brilliant pop psychology. It is written for an interested, non-technical audience, and is very accessible. It is also very readable, occasionally witty and often thought-provoking. As I read 'Blink' I started to view the world in a subtly different light. I don't think I will ever dismiss a gut-instinct as easily again.
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Review of 'Storm Front' by Jim Butcher
In a geeky fangirl type way, I immediately liked the concept of a story about a Wizard Private Investigator. Harry Dresden, said Wizard PI, is a skilled sorcerer but he doesn't do very good business. What he does have is an in with a police department that specialises in cases of an unusual nature. Then two cases come up at once; a missing person, and a double murder. As soon as he sees the murder scene, Harry knows that there is a very powerful mage on the scene who is breaking the laws of magic. He also knows that to a lot of other people, he would be suspect number one.
As a PI story, Storm Front follows some of the traditional clichés. As a magic story, it follows some other clichés... but put the story together, and it becomes an interesting and amusing story. It is also a true ripping yarn; as the story progresses, the urge to find out what is going to happen next draws the reader through the story.
Harry Dresden is mentally tough, and he is a good conjurer. However, he is not the strongest, fittest or fastest, and I like this. He gets beat around as much as anyone else in the story, and when he fights hand-to-hand, he only does it when the element of surprise is well and truly on his side, or when there is no other option.
The other characters include an air elemental, Bob, who is imprisoned in a skull and acts as Harry's magical library. Then there is Harry's watchman, Morgan, a none-too-bright hard man acting on behalf of a wizard's council. The women in this novel are both good, strong characters, but Butcher seems to go out of his way to make them tough girls. I like them in a way; Police officer Karrin Murphy has a kickass quality about her, that makes her totally believable in the position of hard-nosed cop. Then there is the journalist who'll do almost anything to get a story... between them they provide a competent showing for the 'fairer' sex, but the more I read the more I found these characters to fall slightly towards the cliché as well. Hard-nosed cop and mercenary journalist are not exactly the most original character types.
Towards the end of the story, it seems that most of the characters are in some way out to get Harry, and this grows a little frustrating, as viewers of many TV police dramas will understand. Once the actual plot draws to a close, there is a final wrapping up chapter that stings of TV drama sum-up. In fact, Storm Front almost seems designed for TV dramatisation; and indeed it was dramatised for a while on American TV.
Don't get me wrong though; Storm Front is a very entertaining, gripping read. It was well written, and the magic is convincing. I liked most of the characters, and it was only towards the end that I found some of the plot twists predictable. Even then, it was mainly character reactions, rather than actual events, that were predictable.
The major strengths of this novel lie in Harry Dresden himself. Although he is a wizard, he is a believable person, and as his backstory slowly unfolds, it becomes obvious that there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. Seeing the events through his eyes added an extra layer of interest and insight to the event. Harry's quirky, witty style of narrating made the characters rise to the front, and his way of dealing with the unfortunate series of events makes him a brilliant centre for the story.
Overall, I very much enjoyed Storm Front. If you are looking for a ripping yarn with excellent characters, Storm Front is it. I think that as a character, Harry Dresden is well worth following, and Butcher obviously has some skill at plotting and pacing a novel, which made Storm Front a very satisfying read. At some point, I will be purchasing the next in the series to see if it continues to be as beautifully executed as this.
As a PI story, Storm Front follows some of the traditional clichés. As a magic story, it follows some other clichés... but put the story together, and it becomes an interesting and amusing story. It is also a true ripping yarn; as the story progresses, the urge to find out what is going to happen next draws the reader through the story.
Harry Dresden is mentally tough, and he is a good conjurer. However, he is not the strongest, fittest or fastest, and I like this. He gets beat around as much as anyone else in the story, and when he fights hand-to-hand, he only does it when the element of surprise is well and truly on his side, or when there is no other option.
The other characters include an air elemental, Bob, who is imprisoned in a skull and acts as Harry's magical library. Then there is Harry's watchman, Morgan, a none-too-bright hard man acting on behalf of a wizard's council. The women in this novel are both good, strong characters, but Butcher seems to go out of his way to make them tough girls. I like them in a way; Police officer Karrin Murphy has a kickass quality about her, that makes her totally believable in the position of hard-nosed cop. Then there is the journalist who'll do almost anything to get a story... between them they provide a competent showing for the 'fairer' sex, but the more I read the more I found these characters to fall slightly towards the cliché as well. Hard-nosed cop and mercenary journalist are not exactly the most original character types.
Towards the end of the story, it seems that most of the characters are in some way out to get Harry, and this grows a little frustrating, as viewers of many TV police dramas will understand. Once the actual plot draws to a close, there is a final wrapping up chapter that stings of TV drama sum-up. In fact, Storm Front almost seems designed for TV dramatisation; and indeed it was dramatised for a while on American TV.
Don't get me wrong though; Storm Front is a very entertaining, gripping read. It was well written, and the magic is convincing. I liked most of the characters, and it was only towards the end that I found some of the plot twists predictable. Even then, it was mainly character reactions, rather than actual events, that were predictable.
The major strengths of this novel lie in Harry Dresden himself. Although he is a wizard, he is a believable person, and as his backstory slowly unfolds, it becomes obvious that there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. Seeing the events through his eyes added an extra layer of interest and insight to the event. Harry's quirky, witty style of narrating made the characters rise to the front, and his way of dealing with the unfortunate series of events makes him a brilliant centre for the story.
Overall, I very much enjoyed Storm Front. If you are looking for a ripping yarn with excellent characters, Storm Front is it. I think that as a character, Harry Dresden is well worth following, and Butcher obviously has some skill at plotting and pacing a novel, which made Storm Front a very satisfying read. At some point, I will be purchasing the next in the series to see if it continues to be as beautifully executed as this.
Saturday, 13 September 2008
My Reading List
My friends and I are all keen readers, and if there is a book that one of us feels is particularly good, it will do the rounds of our group. I have introduced people to 'Star Smashers of the Galaxy Rangers' by Harry Harrison, which remains, in my mind, one of the greatest ever works of science fiction parodies. In return, I have been encouraged in the direction of 'Young Miles' by Lois McMaster Bujold, and a number of others that I haven't yet got around to reading.
But I'm getting there.
A recent trip home to see my parents had me leaving with an armful of classic science fiction, and a novel my brother left behind when he moved out. I have another book on long-term loan from a friend who thought it was much more suited to my sense of humour than hers. Not to mention the Discworld books I've been intending to read through for many, many years.
So, what am I reading at the moment?
Well, I'm about halfway through 'Storm Front' by Jim Butcher, a recommendation from a friend from university, which I am thoroughly enjoying. I will, of course, review this when I have finished.
Next up is 'Blink.' This is a non-fiction book, about the unconscious mind, and related psychology. Psychology is a fascination of mine, especially after taking a course in it during university.
Then I have a sizeable list of books on the shelf, including a Graeme Green novel I found in my brother's room after mum had been clearing it out, and 'A Short History of Nearly Everything' by Bill Bryson. I also have two more Martina Cole novels to read before I e-bay the collection. Then another borrowed novel; 'Diaspora' by Greg Egan, which has been universally acclaimed by people whose opinions I trust.
My classic science fiction selection includes many books that everyone says ought to be read by any self-respecting science fiction fan. The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov; H.G Wells' 'War of the Worlds'; '2001 a Space Odessey' by Arthur C. Clarke, and 'Chocky' by John Wyndham.
After this, who knows? Christmas will be showing up all too soon, and it's traditionally the time I relax my moratorium on book-buying. Maybe I'll buy some more of the Jim Butcher Dresden File novels. Maybe I'll complete my Iain M Banks 'Culture' collection by buying 'Inversions', which many say is the best Culture novel after 'Consider Phlebas'. Of course I will be reading the Discworld novels too. And then there are the Neil Gaiman, China Meiville and George R. R. Martin books that everyone says I 'must' read.
One thing's for sure, though; I'm not going to be short on reading material for a while.
I just need to get better at finding the time to read...
But I'm getting there.
A recent trip home to see my parents had me leaving with an armful of classic science fiction, and a novel my brother left behind when he moved out. I have another book on long-term loan from a friend who thought it was much more suited to my sense of humour than hers. Not to mention the Discworld books I've been intending to read through for many, many years.
So, what am I reading at the moment?
Well, I'm about halfway through 'Storm Front' by Jim Butcher, a recommendation from a friend from university, which I am thoroughly enjoying. I will, of course, review this when I have finished.
Next up is 'Blink.' This is a non-fiction book, about the unconscious mind, and related psychology. Psychology is a fascination of mine, especially after taking a course in it during university.
Then I have a sizeable list of books on the shelf, including a Graeme Green novel I found in my brother's room after mum had been clearing it out, and 'A Short History of Nearly Everything' by Bill Bryson. I also have two more Martina Cole novels to read before I e-bay the collection. Then another borrowed novel; 'Diaspora' by Greg Egan, which has been universally acclaimed by people whose opinions I trust.
My classic science fiction selection includes many books that everyone says ought to be read by any self-respecting science fiction fan. The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov; H.G Wells' 'War of the Worlds'; '2001 a Space Odessey' by Arthur C. Clarke, and 'Chocky' by John Wyndham.
After this, who knows? Christmas will be showing up all too soon, and it's traditionally the time I relax my moratorium on book-buying. Maybe I'll buy some more of the Jim Butcher Dresden File novels. Maybe I'll complete my Iain M Banks 'Culture' collection by buying 'Inversions', which many say is the best Culture novel after 'Consider Phlebas'. Of course I will be reading the Discworld novels too. And then there are the Neil Gaiman, China Meiville and George R. R. Martin books that everyone says I 'must' read.
One thing's for sure, though; I'm not going to be short on reading material for a while.
I just need to get better at finding the time to read...
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