The idea of an organization whose members are all, by mystical powers or by definition (or both), inherently good crops up here and there in sci-fi and fantasy, but that idea has never quite set right with me (even though it turns up in fiction I like). Perhaps the best known examples that I’m familiar with (and I’ve no doubt there are even more I’m not), are the Jedi in Star Wars and the Heralds of Valdemar in Mercedes Lackey’s Velgarth books. Though vastly different in many respects, both organizations fit the category of groups whose members you know are automatically good. And both drive me up the wall for that reason.
You see, while I enjoy Good vs Evil on the cosmic scale, when it comes to individual characters, I prefer something a bit more ambiguous and, dare I say it, realistic. And, in truth, the older I get, the more of a problem I have with Evil. I know, it sounds weird to find Good more believable than Evil, but look at it this way – it’s very plausible for someone to wish to be Good and try their hardest to do all the Right things and be a truly Good person, but it’s a lot harder (for me, at least) to swallow someone wishing to be Evil. As far as I can tell, looking at the real world, most people who have committed evil (or even Evil) acts were doing so for some kind of personal gain or because they thought they were doing Good.
Which leads us to the problem of good-by-definition groups. Or perhaps I should say the problems there of.
Now, the Jedi and the Heralds are somewhat different cases, even if they share the same, or most of the same, problems. The Jedi locate and train Force sensitive children to be light-side Force users who protect the galaxy (or at least the Republic) while swearing off personal attachments an, theoretically, anyway, emotional extremes and passions. Heralds are chosen by mystical Companions because they are good at heart and are trained to protect Valdemar while loving freely and generally otherwise having a normal (if likely to be messily short) lives. But the two organizations have pretty much the same job – mystically good guardians of their government and the people there in.
(I’m skipping other major problems with the Jedi, like, if being Force sensitive is hereditary, don’t you want Jedi to breed, not become celibate monks?)
So, the shared problems? Well, first off, rather like Evil, Good isn’t that simple. Unless the enemies of the Republic or of Valdemar are Evil, you would think a mystically Good organization would want to keep fighting to an absolute last resort, especially if they’re connected to or chosen by a cosmic Good. Granted, the enemies we’re shown in both sets of stories are generally Evil, but somehow neither quite addresses the conflict inherent in having the cosmically Good connected/chosen fighting for one particular country, however large. This smacks uncomfortably of the whole true race, God on our side kind of thing that we mostly don’t want to hear in the real world. Though a story that actually faced up to that and had their Good being, recognizably, our idea of evil could be pretty interesting. (And might well exist out there. I am known for preferring light fiction to the darker, deeper variety.)
There’s also the fact that having a Good organization either cuts out internal conflict or makes a bizarre hash of it. Star Wars: Episodes I-III are a good example of this. I can argue, convincingly, I think, that the Jedi are as responsible (or more responsible) for Anakin’s fall than Palpatine is. Did Lucas intend that message? If so, he didn’t make it quite clear enough, and if not, wow did he mess up. I can’t quite tell whether we’re supposed to view the Jedi as being mistaken in their ascetic world view or whether we’re supposed see Anakin’s refusal to follow it as the beginning of his fall. Now, partly this might be because we’re used to (or I’m used to) thinking of love and caring for others as a good thing, but I think part of the problem is that we’ve been told the Jedi are Good. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean infallible, but it certainly raises the question of what it means for them to be wrong about major issues.
The Heralds also have a problem (and, now that I think about it, there’s a certain similarity of situation here) in dealing with members who mess up due to emotional distress. In Magic’s Pawn, one young Herald goes kind of (very?) crazy after his twin brother is killed and ends up slaughtering the people responsible (and then some, if I remember right). His Companion repudiates him, making him no longer a Herald, and he kills himself. Um…the boy went mad, shouldn’t cosmic Good have stepped in there somewhere, preferably before the slaughter and helped him? Again, it isn’t that Good has to be infallible, it’s that Good’s mistakes (or the agent’s of Good’s mistakes) raise problematic questions. It doesn’t help that in the third book of that same series, Magic’s Price, the main character goes a bit crazy after being raped and tortured and kills the people responsible (and two more-or-less innocent bystanders) but his Companion helps him get sane again. Cosmic Good, you confuse me. (And, yes, I know the Companions are “human,” but still…where’s the consistency?)
Speaking of consistency, to return to Star Wars, Obi Wan, after defeating and maiming Anakin, leaves him to die of his wounds. Which seems to me to be pretty major Good failure there. (And possibly characterization failure.) There’s also the matter of the Jedi doing nothing to help the slaves on Tatooine, going so far as to not even help Anakin’s mother. If the Jedi are Good and slavery is at least evil, shouldn’t they do something? They’re barely presented as objecting.
Actually, some of these problems would still be problems if the organizations were merely centered on the idea of Good (or even good) and not cosmically backed up in any way. Their respective authors may have failed a smidge, there. But the problems wouldn’t seem as critical if the organizations were merely groups of people who wish to do good in organizations dedicated to doing good. Individuals and groups of individuals, trying to do their best, can and do screw up. But if they’re tied to the cosmic forces of Good in any strong way, there shouldn’t be major screw ups, especially not ones without explanation.
And I think the characters get short changed a little if they’re tied to Good. Not only is there the Chosen One problem (which I’ve ranted about before) but the world is more interesting if good and evil aren’t presented as Good and Evil, with appropriate baseball caps for everyone. Too much conflict, character growth, and complex plotting is tossed out when you hand out the baseball caps.
Perhaps I’ve just grown to want slightly deeper light fiction.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Feminist Fiction
I’ve finally realized why discussions of feminist fiction often leave me baffled. There are really two reasons, one more global and one more personal. You see, I hadn’t realized that there are actually three categories (broadly speaking) of feminist fiction: that which inspires, that which enlightens or educates, and that which is all about venting. I also hadn’t taken into account my tendency to interpret things in the darkest possible way.
It’s not surprising that a person who believes that the message of It’s a Wonderful Life is that good people should sacrifice their dreams for the benefit of others finds far fewer works of fiction inspiring than most people. It’s also not surprising that, given my tendency toward gloom, I’m not really into reading fiction to gain more insight into the horrors of the world. And as for venting, well that usually works best if one is in fairly strict agreement with the one venting, and not so well if one disagrees.
There is, of course, nothing wrong with fiction that does any of the above, and no requirement that fiction must be feminist. But it was always disconcerting to have someone tell me that a work of fiction was feminist, then go on to describe something that sounded practically anti-feminist to me. Of course tastes and interpretations vary, but there was also the problem of vocabulary.
Definition time.
Venting is a category that’s fairly self explanatory. In it go the works that complain, and presume you share the complaint. This would, I think, mostly be short fiction, though there might be longer works. It is, I’m afraid, a category I’ve been told about, not one I’ve read, so I’m hard pressed for a concrete example of what I mean. It addresses a problem all people (or, in the case of feminist venting, women) are assumed to have, or at least to commiserate with.
In the enlightening or educating category are works that address either speculative problems (as in The Handmaid’s Tale) or real life problems faced by, in the feminist case, women. They are written to prevent the future in their pages from happening, or to change the present injustices, or to make people aware of the past injustices.
A lot of fiction about women, regardless of genre, at least hovers at the edges of this category because the difficulties women face seem always to be addressed by them. It’s hard, for example, to think of a fantasy novel with a woman protagonist who doesn’t have to overcome being a woman and all that means to her faux-medieval culture. That inability to escape the confines of “womanhood” makes the works seem more educational than inspirational, at least to me.
The works I categorize as inspiring are those in which the protagonist is happy and successful – for certain values of successful. Their protagonists tackle their problems with energy and enthusiasm – you might even say they like their problems (whether they’d admit it or not). Adventure stories are, to me, the penultimate example of this. But adventure stories rarely have female leads, or, worse, when they do, the very thing that makes them inspiring is abandoned. But this, this is what I want when I say I want a feminist work of fiction. I want fiction with a woman protagonist who has fun, fiction that says, no, shouts from the rooftop, “You can do this!” And doesn’t have to add “even though you’re a woman.”
And that really is the problem I find with a lot of fiction intended to be feminist. The protagonist always has womanhood shackled to her ankle as a hindrance. They’re successful despite being a woman, they’re successful after they overcome their gender, they make it in a man’s world. I know that can be inspiring and I know that, to an extent, it’s realistic, but I can’t help feeling like it turns being a woman into, well, an albatross around the protagonist’s neck.
Maybe I’m overlooking how much other women do feel that way. Maybe that’s why it’s such a theme of feminist fiction. Maybe I’m not meant to lump being a woman in with the construct of a woman’s place in society when I read those books. Or maybe the authors lump the two together more than they intend. Maybe the simple fact that women in fiction tend to be women more than the men in fiction are men puts off my own gender fuzziness. I don’t know. I’d love to hear from people who feel differently about the enlightening category, or who find works like Alias, The Deed of Paksenarrion, or The Mists of Avalon to be inspiring. I want to understand the other point of view, even while I long to read something as inspiring as the Vorkosigan saga…but about a woman.
It’s not surprising that a person who believes that the message of It’s a Wonderful Life is that good people should sacrifice their dreams for the benefit of others finds far fewer works of fiction inspiring than most people. It’s also not surprising that, given my tendency toward gloom, I’m not really into reading fiction to gain more insight into the horrors of the world. And as for venting, well that usually works best if one is in fairly strict agreement with the one venting, and not so well if one disagrees.
There is, of course, nothing wrong with fiction that does any of the above, and no requirement that fiction must be feminist. But it was always disconcerting to have someone tell me that a work of fiction was feminist, then go on to describe something that sounded practically anti-feminist to me. Of course tastes and interpretations vary, but there was also the problem of vocabulary.
Definition time.
Venting is a category that’s fairly self explanatory. In it go the works that complain, and presume you share the complaint. This would, I think, mostly be short fiction, though there might be longer works. It is, I’m afraid, a category I’ve been told about, not one I’ve read, so I’m hard pressed for a concrete example of what I mean. It addresses a problem all people (or, in the case of feminist venting, women) are assumed to have, or at least to commiserate with.
In the enlightening or educating category are works that address either speculative problems (as in The Handmaid’s Tale) or real life problems faced by, in the feminist case, women. They are written to prevent the future in their pages from happening, or to change the present injustices, or to make people aware of the past injustices.
A lot of fiction about women, regardless of genre, at least hovers at the edges of this category because the difficulties women face seem always to be addressed by them. It’s hard, for example, to think of a fantasy novel with a woman protagonist who doesn’t have to overcome being a woman and all that means to her faux-medieval culture. That inability to escape the confines of “womanhood” makes the works seem more educational than inspirational, at least to me.
The works I categorize as inspiring are those in which the protagonist is happy and successful – for certain values of successful. Their protagonists tackle their problems with energy and enthusiasm – you might even say they like their problems (whether they’d admit it or not). Adventure stories are, to me, the penultimate example of this. But adventure stories rarely have female leads, or, worse, when they do, the very thing that makes them inspiring is abandoned. But this, this is what I want when I say I want a feminist work of fiction. I want fiction with a woman protagonist who has fun, fiction that says, no, shouts from the rooftop, “You can do this!” And doesn’t have to add “even though you’re a woman.”
And that really is the problem I find with a lot of fiction intended to be feminist. The protagonist always has womanhood shackled to her ankle as a hindrance. They’re successful despite being a woman, they’re successful after they overcome their gender, they make it in a man’s world. I know that can be inspiring and I know that, to an extent, it’s realistic, but I can’t help feeling like it turns being a woman into, well, an albatross around the protagonist’s neck.
Maybe I’m overlooking how much other women do feel that way. Maybe that’s why it’s such a theme of feminist fiction. Maybe I’m not meant to lump being a woman in with the construct of a woman’s place in society when I read those books. Or maybe the authors lump the two together more than they intend. Maybe the simple fact that women in fiction tend to be women more than the men in fiction are men puts off my own gender fuzziness. I don’t know. I’d love to hear from people who feel differently about the enlightening category, or who find works like Alias, The Deed of Paksenarrion, or The Mists of Avalon to be inspiring. I want to understand the other point of view, even while I long to read something as inspiring as the Vorkosigan saga…but about a woman.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Weight loss ads are getting on my nerves
I've never been fond of weight loss ads, for a whole slew of reasons, but lately they've begun to make me feel rather stabby. I could accept the ads when they were mostly for weight loss programs, and stuck to the formula of "Want to lose weight? Join us." Those ads tend to feature both men and women and are fairly inoffensive. But now we have ads for weight loss pills and for weight loss surgeries. At least a failed program wouldn't (so far as I know) have a negative impact on your body, but pills have side effects and surgery...is not something one should just jump into. There's the little matter of it potentially killing you, for one thing.
There are the Alli ads that feature thin women and tell you in voice over that you have to...wait for it...change your diet and exercise. But with this marvelous pill, you'll lose weight faster than you would by just changing your diet and exercising. Because this pill stops you from absorbing some of the fat you eat, which means that if you eat too much fat in a meal you may experience "treatment effects" - "oily spotting, loose stools, and more frequent stools that may be hard to control." Well, that should teachpeople women to cut back on the fat, all right. Why women? Because the ads and the site almost exclusively feature images of women, many of whom are not overweight. Men either don't need to worry about their weight or can lose weight without taking a poo pill.
I'd say more about the many mail order weight loss pill ads, but I couldn't find any of them on line and I can't remember the names of the pills. But, again, they mainly feature women and they tend to say things about "unsightly body fat" and imply that pretty much everyone needs their product. I wish I could find them, because they are far more immediately disgusting than the other ads.
Then there's the Lapband ad that has overweight people listing what they would do "if they lost the weight," which might be accurate to how some overweight people feel, but seems both misleading and offensive. Losing weight won't necessarily mean you have fewer health problems, and it won't necessarily help with type 2 diabetes (not to mention at least some people can control that with diet) or cure your aching back, feet, or knees. And, unless you were very overweight, it won't make visiting an out of state relative any easier. And, in a culture that teaches women to hate their bodies, it's unlikely to make you feel better about shopping for clothes.
But the ad isn't the only thing that makes me feel stabby about Lapband. Read the first year dietary instructions. So, basically, you lose weight because you eat less and exercise. AAAARRRRRRGH!!!! Then why do you need to clamp something on your stomach that results in a longer list of things to be careful eating than they recommend for people with an ileostomy?! I mean, fuck, we're just supposed to be careful of fibrous stuff and popcorn, but lapbanded people, you better watch out for "dry meat, shrimp, untoasted or doughy bread, rice, peanut butter, fibrous vegetables like corn, asparagus, and celery, nuts, greasy or fried food, [and] membrane[s] of citrus fruits." Just how tiny do they make the opening? I mean, really.
Underlying all these anoyances are the reasons why I've never been fond of weight loss ads. Weight is not, in and of itself, a measure of health. A person can be thin and unhealthy and a person can be fat and healthy. That isn't the current fadish belief, but it's true. If you eat well, get exercise, and are happy, you will probably be healthy, regardless of your weight. If you eat crap, never exercise, and are miserable, you probably won't be healthy, again, regardless of your weight. (In fact, eating crap and not exercising might have something to do with being miserable.)
And, of course, there's the annoying fact that weight loss ads tend to be aimed more at women than men. Because women just have to be thin, you know. *stabby*
There are the Alli ads that feature thin women and tell you in voice over that you have to...wait for it...change your diet and exercise. But with this marvelous pill, you'll lose weight faster than you would by just changing your diet and exercising. Because this pill stops you from absorbing some of the fat you eat, which means that if you eat too much fat in a meal you may experience "treatment effects" - "oily spotting, loose stools, and more frequent stools that may be hard to control." Well, that should teach
I'd say more about the many mail order weight loss pill ads, but I couldn't find any of them on line and I can't remember the names of the pills. But, again, they mainly feature women and they tend to say things about "unsightly body fat" and imply that pretty much everyone needs their product. I wish I could find them, because they are far more immediately disgusting than the other ads.
Then there's the Lapband ad that has overweight people listing what they would do "if they lost the weight," which might be accurate to how some overweight people feel, but seems both misleading and offensive. Losing weight won't necessarily mean you have fewer health problems, and it won't necessarily help with type 2 diabetes (not to mention at least some people can control that with diet) or cure your aching back, feet, or knees. And, unless you were very overweight, it won't make visiting an out of state relative any easier. And, in a culture that teaches women to hate their bodies, it's unlikely to make you feel better about shopping for clothes.
But the ad isn't the only thing that makes me feel stabby about Lapband. Read the first year dietary instructions. So, basically, you lose weight because you eat less and exercise. AAAARRRRRRGH!!!! Then why do you need to clamp something on your stomach that results in a longer list of things to be careful eating than they recommend for people with an ileostomy?! I mean, fuck, we're just supposed to be careful of fibrous stuff and popcorn, but lapbanded people, you better watch out for "dry meat, shrimp, untoasted or doughy bread, rice, peanut butter, fibrous vegetables like corn, asparagus, and celery, nuts, greasy or fried food, [and] membrane[s] of citrus fruits." Just how tiny do they make the opening? I mean, really.
Underlying all these anoyances are the reasons why I've never been fond of weight loss ads. Weight is not, in and of itself, a measure of health. A person can be thin and unhealthy and a person can be fat and healthy. That isn't the current fadish belief, but it's true. If you eat well, get exercise, and are happy, you will probably be healthy, regardless of your weight. If you eat crap, never exercise, and are miserable, you probably won't be healthy, again, regardless of your weight. (In fact, eating crap and not exercising might have something to do with being miserable.)
And, of course, there's the annoying fact that weight loss ads tend to be aimed more at women than men. Because women just have to be thin, you know. *stabby*
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
A note to bicyclists
Either (as you're supposed to) ride in the street and follow traffic laws, or (wrong, but sometimes understandable) ride on the sidewalk and act like a pedestrian. Do not mix the two; it confuses people. But, above all else, do not ride in the street and disregard all traffic laws, including those pertaining to stop lights. It gives drivers premature gray hair and may give you a premature death.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Damn it, authors, stop dying!
I just discovered that Robert Asprin died May 22. I've lost count of how many sci-fi/fantasy authors have died in the past twelve or so months, but it's way too freaking many. Granted, they weren't all authors I read, but some of them were, and, who knows, I might have gotten to the others eventually. Bah. Rats. And words to that effect. Especially since Robert Asprin was one of the authors I read...some of the time.
He wrote some very funny fantasy - the first few books of his Myth series were great - but, like most humor writers, his work was a bit up and down (or in and out of my range of humor, as the case may be). Still, when he was good, he was really good, and that kept me trying his books, even when they didn't always live up to his best. And he was way too young to just die in his sleep. I mean, what the hell, he's younger than my parents! (Okay, only by a couple years, but still. And, bizarrely, he apparently went to the same university they did, albeit briefly. O_o)
I think there are only a handful of authors I like who are still alive. I'd really appreciate it if they stayed that way.
He wrote some very funny fantasy - the first few books of his Myth series were great - but, like most humor writers, his work was a bit up and down (or in and out of my range of humor, as the case may be). Still, when he was good, he was really good, and that kept me trying his books, even when they didn't always live up to his best. And he was way too young to just die in his sleep. I mean, what the hell, he's younger than my parents! (Okay, only by a couple years, but still. And, bizarrely, he apparently went to the same university they did, albeit briefly. O_o)
I think there are only a handful of authors I like who are still alive. I'd really appreciate it if they stayed that way.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Review: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
I went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull today. The spoiler free review is this: it was better than I was afraid it was going to be, worse than I hoped it would be, moderately entertaining, and completely falls apart if you make the mistake of thinking about it afterwards.
SPOILERS BELOW
Oh, man, was this movie a mess. The first thirty minutes or so were unnecessary and problematic, there was little to no character development, and the aliens, oy, the aliens. I’m sure there are plot holes and glitches in the other three Indy movies, but this movie is so hole riddled that it practically self destructs. Then there’s the matter of Harrison Ford playing Indy as though he’s permanently pissed off. And the pointless seeming characters, which include both Indy’s frienemy and, sadly, his son. The movie was entertaining, yes, but in a way that evaporates after you watch it.
While there were a couple of funny moments in the first half hour or so, the movie would probably have been better off starting with Mutt approaching Indy with Marion’s letter. If they wanted to start with a bang, they could have started with an opening mini-adventure the way Raiders and Last Crusade did, but the entire bit with the Soviets, Area 51, and Indy being a suspected Commie was a mistake. I can think of no reason for Indy to have been asked to consult on a UFO crash – he’s an archaeologist, not an astrophysicist, an aerospace engineer, or an air crash investigator. What could they have wanted him to consult on? It was just a (flimsy) explanation for the Soviets kidnapping him and his frienemy (who unfortunately shares my nickname -_-), despite the fact that the Soviets could have been brought in by Mutt and his letter, which was supposedly a Soviet ruse to lure Indy into the chase, anyway. (After the opening bit, that makes my head hurt.) Worse, having Indy be a suspected Commie and lose his job (essentially), creates a plot thread that isn’t resolved sensibly. Why would the suspicion have just magically gone away after his adventure? Furthermore, how did his administrator friend get his job back? He resigned.
The earlier movies didn’t hit us over the head with their time period, but, oh, dear god, this one did. Another reason why we would be better off without the first half hour or so. And better off without Indy’s son Mutt, who really served no purpose but to deliver a letter and get Indy and Marion back together…because. Because what, I don’t know, there wasn’t enough character development for their sudden discovery of true love to make sense. It was as if Indy finding out he fathered a child with Marion suddenly caused him to realize that he’d always loved her. And what happens if it turns out he also fathered one with Willy? Or some other woman from an adventure that we haven’t seen?
If there had been more relationship building between Indy and Mutt (more like there was between Indy and Henry Sr. in Last Crusade), then Mutt’s character wouldn’t have felt so extraneous. Unfortunately, the plot was too busy dashing from nearly dialogue-less action sequence to nearly dialogue-less action sequence. (Is it just me, or was there a lot more dialogue in the action scenes in the previous movies? I must re-watch them and find out.) And, of course, if there had been actual relationship building between Indy and Marion, the rekindling of their love would have made sense. Instead, we have mah character development iz paisted on, yay.
Oh, and the same problem applies to Mr. Frienemy, a former secret agent turned greedy s.o.b., who sidelines in archaeology. Bwuh? Seriously, what the hell was he supposed to be? He’d been at a dig in Mexico with Indy, so he was presumably an archaeologist, yes? But there was no other indication that he was, so, maybe not. He’d been a spy with Indy. But now was willing to sell out his country and friend for money. Which makes no sense. Or was he supposed to always have been selling secrets to the top bidder rather than having been spying for king and country during the war. I don’t know, but he could have been deleted from the movie. And should have. Hell,Natasha Irina was supposed to be psychic, so she didn’t need to follow his trail of glowing lipsticks. She could have “known” where they were. Or been an archaeologist herself.
And we can’t forget the aliens. Oy, the aliens. As I feared, the aliens plot kept giving me “Didn’t I see this on Stargate SG1?” moments, but even if they hadn’t, the plot holes were nearly enough to make my brain explode like poor Irina’s. Which is a good place to start with the plot holes and wait, what?s. Why did the aliens, who apparently brought knowledge to the South Americans (and/or all humanity), fry Irina’s brain when she asked to know everything? Were they supposed to be good? Evil? Chaotic neutral? Is this an anti-curiosity message? What? If she’d asked for power over everyone, or something more clearly in keeping with her earlier stated goals, it would have made sense, but she didn’t, and I was left going “Wait, what?”
On a similar note, if the aliens were anthropologists or collectors, why didn’t they take their collection of artifacts with them when they left? Why have them stored outside the ship and destroy them, and the valley and all life in it when they left? (And we’re back to good, evil, chaotic neutral, what the hell?) Were they just that pissed over losing one of their heads? (How the hell did they lose that skull in the first place? Only aliens could get into that room (or people carrying alien skulls) and there was no obvious other exit.) Was it just time to go? I don’t get it. And what was supposed to have been up with the Roswell crash? Was that another “hive mind” (which seemed more like a case of Multiple Man to me), looking for the one in South America? Or what?
I really, really don’t remember having this many questions about the other Indy movies. Like I said, there might have been a plot hole or glitch here or there, but the movies weren’t Swiss cheese. This movie, however, was.
It also had any number of “wait, what?” moments that I didn’t mention, from Indy surviving a nuclear blast in a refrigerator to giant ants eating people (just like the scarabs in The Mummy, I might add). And, of course, Indy being in a bad mood through most of the movie. I seem to remember him having fun once in a while in the others, or being amazed, or…any number of other emotions that aren’t “serious,” “cross,” or “pissed.” This rather limited range seemed even stranger when paired with Marion’s permanent chipper grin. Okay, so she’s pleased that she’s got the love of her life back, and likes adventuring…so what’s wrong with him? Or, alternatively, shouldn’t she be a smidge worried about surviving the adventure?
Eh, like I said, I enjoyed the movie all right. I just don't see myself seeing it again or buying it. It just had too many problems and not enough extra good bits to balance out the problems. Or I'm just getting picky in my old age.
SPOILERS BELOW
Oh, man, was this movie a mess. The first thirty minutes or so were unnecessary and problematic, there was little to no character development, and the aliens, oy, the aliens. I’m sure there are plot holes and glitches in the other three Indy movies, but this movie is so hole riddled that it practically self destructs. Then there’s the matter of Harrison Ford playing Indy as though he’s permanently pissed off. And the pointless seeming characters, which include both Indy’s frienemy and, sadly, his son. The movie was entertaining, yes, but in a way that evaporates after you watch it.
While there were a couple of funny moments in the first half hour or so, the movie would probably have been better off starting with Mutt approaching Indy with Marion’s letter. If they wanted to start with a bang, they could have started with an opening mini-adventure the way Raiders and Last Crusade did, but the entire bit with the Soviets, Area 51, and Indy being a suspected Commie was a mistake. I can think of no reason for Indy to have been asked to consult on a UFO crash – he’s an archaeologist, not an astrophysicist, an aerospace engineer, or an air crash investigator. What could they have wanted him to consult on? It was just a (flimsy) explanation for the Soviets kidnapping him and his frienemy (who unfortunately shares my nickname -_-), despite the fact that the Soviets could have been brought in by Mutt and his letter, which was supposedly a Soviet ruse to lure Indy into the chase, anyway. (After the opening bit, that makes my head hurt.) Worse, having Indy be a suspected Commie and lose his job (essentially), creates a plot thread that isn’t resolved sensibly. Why would the suspicion have just magically gone away after his adventure? Furthermore, how did his administrator friend get his job back? He resigned.
The earlier movies didn’t hit us over the head with their time period, but, oh, dear god, this one did. Another reason why we would be better off without the first half hour or so. And better off without Indy’s son Mutt, who really served no purpose but to deliver a letter and get Indy and Marion back together…because. Because what, I don’t know, there wasn’t enough character development for their sudden discovery of true love to make sense. It was as if Indy finding out he fathered a child with Marion suddenly caused him to realize that he’d always loved her. And what happens if it turns out he also fathered one with Willy? Or some other woman from an adventure that we haven’t seen?
If there had been more relationship building between Indy and Mutt (more like there was between Indy and Henry Sr. in Last Crusade), then Mutt’s character wouldn’t have felt so extraneous. Unfortunately, the plot was too busy dashing from nearly dialogue-less action sequence to nearly dialogue-less action sequence. (Is it just me, or was there a lot more dialogue in the action scenes in the previous movies? I must re-watch them and find out.) And, of course, if there had been actual relationship building between Indy and Marion, the rekindling of their love would have made sense. Instead, we have mah character development iz paisted on, yay.
Oh, and the same problem applies to Mr. Frienemy, a former secret agent turned greedy s.o.b., who sidelines in archaeology. Bwuh? Seriously, what the hell was he supposed to be? He’d been at a dig in Mexico with Indy, so he was presumably an archaeologist, yes? But there was no other indication that he was, so, maybe not. He’d been a spy with Indy. But now was willing to sell out his country and friend for money. Which makes no sense. Or was he supposed to always have been selling secrets to the top bidder rather than having been spying for king and country during the war. I don’t know, but he could have been deleted from the movie. And should have. Hell,
And we can’t forget the aliens. Oy, the aliens. As I feared, the aliens plot kept giving me “Didn’t I see this on Stargate SG1?” moments, but even if they hadn’t, the plot holes were nearly enough to make my brain explode like poor Irina’s. Which is a good place to start with the plot holes and wait, what?s. Why did the aliens, who apparently brought knowledge to the South Americans (and/or all humanity), fry Irina’s brain when she asked to know everything? Were they supposed to be good? Evil? Chaotic neutral? Is this an anti-curiosity message? What? If she’d asked for power over everyone, or something more clearly in keeping with her earlier stated goals, it would have made sense, but she didn’t, and I was left going “Wait, what?”
On a similar note, if the aliens were anthropologists or collectors, why didn’t they take their collection of artifacts with them when they left? Why have them stored outside the ship and destroy them, and the valley and all life in it when they left? (And we’re back to good, evil, chaotic neutral, what the hell?) Were they just that pissed over losing one of their heads? (How the hell did they lose that skull in the first place? Only aliens could get into that room (or people carrying alien skulls) and there was no obvious other exit.) Was it just time to go? I don’t get it. And what was supposed to have been up with the Roswell crash? Was that another “hive mind” (which seemed more like a case of Multiple Man to me), looking for the one in South America? Or what?
I really, really don’t remember having this many questions about the other Indy movies. Like I said, there might have been a plot hole or glitch here or there, but the movies weren’t Swiss cheese. This movie, however, was.
It also had any number of “wait, what?” moments that I didn’t mention, from Indy surviving a nuclear blast in a refrigerator to giant ants eating people (just like the scarabs in The Mummy, I might add). And, of course, Indy being in a bad mood through most of the movie. I seem to remember him having fun once in a while in the others, or being amazed, or…any number of other emotions that aren’t “serious,” “cross,” or “pissed.” This rather limited range seemed even stranger when paired with Marion’s permanent chipper grin. Okay, so she’s pleased that she’s got the love of her life back, and likes adventuring…so what’s wrong with him? Or, alternatively, shouldn’t she be a smidge worried about surviving the adventure?
Eh, like I said, I enjoyed the movie all right. I just don't see myself seeing it again or buying it. It just had too many problems and not enough extra good bits to balance out the problems. Or I'm just getting picky in my old age.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Why, Hollywood, why?
This is partly a general movie rant and partly a rant about the new Indiana Jones movie. Now, I haven’t seen the Indy movie, and, after spending some time on line reading reviews, I’m not sure if I will, but unless a hell of a lot of reviewers are lying…it has issues. But first, the general movie rant, so that those who don’t wish to read Indy spoilers can more easily avoid them.
I’ve seen several movies in the past few years that I felt like I’d seen before – while watching them for the first time in the theater. I don’t just mean that they hit all the clichés of the genre, I mean I literally sat in the theater trying to figure out what various scenes were from. Not only is that bad on it’s own, but I like adventure movies, and one shouldn’t have time for that kind of thought while watching an adventure movie. But I did.
I’m still convinced that the entire climax of the first Pirates of the Caribbean is from… something. I can’t for the life of me think what, but either I somehow saw it before I saw it, or there’s some movie from the 70’s or 80’s that also features a climax with a cursed treasure and zombies…or something close enough for me to sit there thinking “I’ve seen this. I’m sure I have.” It wasn’t just that I predicted what the heroes could do, it was that I could almost, almost conjure up images from the movie that first had that scene.
Or I’m crazy, always possible.
The National Treasure movies have it even worse. The scene with the ice bound shipwreck, the theft of the Declaration of Independence, and the climax of the second movie (and other scenes from both movies I can’t quite think of right now), I swear are right out of episodes of MacGyver. Whether or not they really are, that feeling gave the movies a very made-for-TV feel to me.
And those are movies I enjoyed. I know there were any number of other movies I’ve seen recently that also suffered from “Haven’t I seen this before?” syndrome, but they were so unmemorable that I don’t remember them. Which is even more disappointing. I mean, really, is it too much to ask for a good adventure movie that doesn’t leave me thinking I’ve seen it before?
What does “Haven’t I seen this before?” syndrome have to do with the new Indiana Jones movie?
Now we enter spoilery territory…
After what happened with the Star Wars prequels, I had a bad feeling about the new Indiana Jones movie before I knew anything about it, so I was probably predisposed to see problems. Then I heard rumors that a character was Indy’s son, and I muttered to myself about why it’s never a daughter, and found myself thinking that now, instead of National Treasure being reminiscent of Indiana Jones, Indiana Jones is going to be reminiscent of National Treasure. Then I saw the trailer and went “Uh, didn’t they do this on Stargate SG1?” and my bad feeling grew.
So I went looking for reviews and spoilers. And my bad feeling blossomed to planetary size. Crystal skulls and aliens? They did do this on Stargate SG1 on an episode called Crystal Skull, no less. *headdesk*
Yes, I know crystal skulls are real objects, people think they may have something to do with aliens (or hoaxers), but, come on, why would you pick a MacGuffin that was bound to remind the audience of a television show? Why? Hell, despite it being the goal of the second National Treasure movie, the seven cities of gold would be a better MacGuffin. Just have Cibola, Quivira, and whatnot somewhere sensible and people will forget about the silliness under Mount Rushmore. (Oh gods, it just occurred to me that Indy said something about a city of gold in the trailer… )
Can’t we have some bloody originality? Hell, somehow Clive Cussler keeps me reading his outrageous Dirk Pitt books, and I loved the TV show Relic Hunter, so it’s not the clichés of the genre, it’s really not. It’s that sinking “Haven’t I seen this before?”
(And if anyone knows how to spoiler tag on Blogger...share the knowledge, please?)
I’ve seen several movies in the past few years that I felt like I’d seen before – while watching them for the first time in the theater. I don’t just mean that they hit all the clichés of the genre, I mean I literally sat in the theater trying to figure out what various scenes were from. Not only is that bad on it’s own, but I like adventure movies, and one shouldn’t have time for that kind of thought while watching an adventure movie. But I did.
I’m still convinced that the entire climax of the first Pirates of the Caribbean is from… something. I can’t for the life of me think what, but either I somehow saw it before I saw it, or there’s some movie from the 70’s or 80’s that also features a climax with a cursed treasure and zombies…or something close enough for me to sit there thinking “I’ve seen this. I’m sure I have.” It wasn’t just that I predicted what the heroes could do, it was that I could almost, almost conjure up images from the movie that first had that scene.
Or I’m crazy, always possible.
The National Treasure movies have it even worse. The scene with the ice bound shipwreck, the theft of the Declaration of Independence, and the climax of the second movie (and other scenes from both movies I can’t quite think of right now), I swear are right out of episodes of MacGyver. Whether or not they really are, that feeling gave the movies a very made-for-TV feel to me.
And those are movies I enjoyed. I know there were any number of other movies I’ve seen recently that also suffered from “Haven’t I seen this before?” syndrome, but they were so unmemorable that I don’t remember them. Which is even more disappointing. I mean, really, is it too much to ask for a good adventure movie that doesn’t leave me thinking I’ve seen it before?
What does “Haven’t I seen this before?” syndrome have to do with the new Indiana Jones movie?
Now we enter spoilery territory…
After what happened with the Star Wars prequels, I had a bad feeling about the new Indiana Jones movie before I knew anything about it, so I was probably predisposed to see problems. Then I heard rumors that a character was Indy’s son, and I muttered to myself about why it’s never a daughter, and found myself thinking that now, instead of National Treasure being reminiscent of Indiana Jones, Indiana Jones is going to be reminiscent of National Treasure. Then I saw the trailer and went “Uh, didn’t they do this on Stargate SG1?” and my bad feeling grew.
So I went looking for reviews and spoilers. And my bad feeling blossomed to planetary size. Crystal skulls and aliens? They did do this on Stargate SG1 on an episode called Crystal Skull, no less. *headdesk*
Yes, I know crystal skulls are real objects, people think they may have something to do with aliens (or hoaxers), but, come on, why would you pick a MacGuffin that was bound to remind the audience of a television show? Why? Hell, despite it being the goal of the second National Treasure movie, the seven cities of gold would be a better MacGuffin. Just have Cibola, Quivira, and whatnot somewhere sensible and people will forget about the silliness under Mount Rushmore. (Oh gods, it just occurred to me that Indy said something about a city of gold in the trailer… )
Can’t we have some bloody originality? Hell, somehow Clive Cussler keeps me reading his outrageous Dirk Pitt books, and I loved the TV show Relic Hunter, so it’s not the clichés of the genre, it’s really not. It’s that sinking “Haven’t I seen this before?”
(And if anyone knows how to spoiler tag on Blogger...share the knowledge, please?)
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