Divinely Inspired

Confession time: I didn’t get my work done.

Specifically, I am currently in the middle of Canadian nothingness (read: Sasketchawan) writing a post that was meant to be completed before I began this lengthy trip to the Yukon. I failed which means I am working within a tight timeframe as I pound out these thoughts in the few hours between my late evenings and early rises. However, it appears that Derek has started posting which is nice since he continues to ignore my desperate pleas for attention whenever I get a few seconds of precious Internet on this voyage.

At any rate, this is the final post I have for my wonderful “Month of Joy” or whatever we want to call this. I decided, since this is my last, I would do something different. Here at somewherepostculture, we are often a little behind the times. We review things that are often already ingrained into the cultural consciousness. Neither my colleagues nor I have the ability to experience new “art” as its produced and often when we find the time to look at it, the object in question has already come and gone through the public’s mind and we’re left overlooking some old relic seemingly unearthed from antiquity than anything new.

Well, this time will be slightly different.

While on the road I was bemoaning to my sister how I didn’t have anything in mind for my final week. I knew I wanted to cover yet another medium and I already settled that it would be video games. From prior posts, this should not have appeared too arduous a task as I quite enjoy that entertainment and have written many words at length about my thoughts on opinions of various products. However, when it came to discuss something I actually liked, things got difficult.

I was left with that nagging problem I mentioned in passing on previous posts. I didn’t want to cover well known or universally acclaimed games. Not that I don’t enjoy some of them but that there seemed little value in espousing their well known qualities. What is there to say about games like Dota 2, Team Fortress 2 or Portal that hasn’t been covered previously? Actually, given our focus here, I knew that I would be looking at role-playing games. They’re really my favourite genre that deals with narratives, characters and world building in any great capacity. And if anyone were to ask what my favourite rpg was, my immediate and fervent answer would be Baldur’s Gate II.

But that game is such a cornerstone in the genre. It is a game so good that it, essentially, ruined the company which created it. It’s shadow is long and dark with many titles being measured against it and, ultimately, coming up short. It is fantastic and it was a game I adamantly wanted to avoid reviewing.

My sister suggested I take a different approach. Instead of focusing on the tale, how about I focus on the gameplay? Video games are an interesting medium because of the interaction between creator and consumer. The most effective usage of the medium involves some “game” with the audience and perhaps I should discuss one where I really enjoyed that play. We tossed a few ideas back and forth and, ultimately, one title stood out above the others.

And it is a game I have not completed.

I do not like reviewing things that I have not finished–the reasons should be self apparent. Only in extraordinary circumstances will I break this preference (for example, if I read a book so awful that I am physically incapable of completing it… and it truly is that bad). For this game in particular, I know I’m going to do a full review when I finish it. However, I am having so much fun now that it seems remiss not to highlight its positives and demonstrate that there are still quality titles being released that make me feel that wonder and excitement many assume I am simply unable to feel.

I speak, of course, of Divinity: Original Sin.

Accessed at http://www.feedyournerd.com/uploads/2/4/0/4/24044140/161820_orig.jpg

Divinity Original Sin belongs to Larian Studios and is totally amazing and you should check it out.

Divinity is a curious game. It is not the first of its title by its creator studio though it’s certainly the first that I have played. It was one of the latest of the kickstarter darlings but fell well after I had chosen to participate in the experiment. As I refuse to kickstart any more games until my original “investments” bear fruit, I politely ignored Divinity. This was for the best as I had little expectations when I finally came to its release. It, however, received quite a bit of positive word of mouth and that it was co-op excited my friends to no end. Thus, Derek and I grabbed two copies when it went on a Steam release sale and sat down to enjoy as much as we could before my excursion to our country’s cold, white and isolated north.

To put bluntly, the game is fun. I don’t use that word lightly. I find it is incredibly undescriptive. Fun. It bears not quantitative measure. It is an ephemeral descriptor which gives a listener no bearing on quality or measure of its matter. It makes it ambiguous on a scale as one can not, simply, compare the “fun” of one thing with another. Whereas other emotions are easier to draw strengths: I may have been startled by Amnesia but my sister was positively terrified. Despite my displeasure of the word it is a fantastic tool for Divinity.

At its heart, the game is enjoyable. It isn’t the greatest work of art. One will not likely hold Divinity as a moving narrative which brought them to tears or instilled some revelation or philosophical quandry. It will hardly inspire. Its visuals hardly transport you to fantastical settings or leave you dizzily lost in flights of imagination. Its score doesn’t plumb the depths of emotional experience. At best its writing will crack a smile but its mystery hardly leaves one pondering long after they’ve turned off the game.

In short: its characters are shallow, it’s narrative is cliched, it’s style is non-existent. And it is the best game I’ve played all year.

The truth of the matter is that Divinity is, first and foremost, a game. It is there to amuse. Its narrative serves the basest level of setting and cohesion. It is like the short blurb printed on the introductory rules of a boardgame. Its characters are there to direct players from one point to another. If they can get a smirk then they have gone beyond their duty. Ultimately, the game wants you to play with its systems and with a friend.

Divinity’s draw is near entirely its combat system. On hard, I am challenged. Each fight is a tactical puzzle to be solved. The vast majority of role-playing games, nay, the vast majority of games treat combat as just another diversion thrown in to keep the player awake between narrative beats or provide the most rudimentary challenges. Combat, as a whole, I often find is a task one does because it is expected of you. I’m hard pressed to think of a game that has me as excited for its fighting system as Divinity. If I had my choice, I would play Dungeons and Dragons or its ilk without a single dice cast for a brawl.

But not Divinity. Instead, it makes me excited to level my character. Every turn has me pondering my next move, often speaking to Derek in order to co-ordinate my next action. I’m playing a wizard, so I don’t get many turns, but the interaction between agents, environment and abilities is staggering. The moment when you set your first stun arrow on a pool of water to stun half your enemies through snaking series of blood and puddles only to follow up with a great fireball to create a smoke screen from the steam of the exact same stunning water is a thing of wonder. You almost feel like you are a painter during confrontation. The terrain is your canvas. Your spells are your brush. You position your actors, trigger your abilities and watch a calvalcade of actions in motion which cripple, stun, blind, burn and knock down your enemies to keep them controlled and pinned.

Or, at least that’s the idea. More often than not I feel like a child with my finger paint, madly trying to outdo an intermediate artist before he finishes his gradework with my blood. For your enemies are always unique combination of classes with different abilities and tricks of their own. They are gunning to turn the exact same combination of spells and effects against you. In fact, we have learned more ability combinations from what the enemies use against us than we’ve discovered on our own experimentation. So far we have faced a fascinating blend of abilities and combinations too that no single fight has felt the same or tired.

For the first time in an rpg, it is not the next clue or character that motivates me to keep playing. I don’t care where the game goes next. Instead, I’m ruminating over my level-ups and which abilities and skills I want to increase. I’m plotting formations and ability interactions. I’m counting action costs and measuring out distances. I’m getting into arguments with my partner and I’m stunning him with waylaid shots or poorly placed fireballs.

And I’m loving every minute of it.

Worry Not About The Tidal Wave

Leave a reply

Continuing our month of positivity, we come to a rather curious moment. In the last weeks I covered music and movies that I enjoyed. This week, I want to talk about television. First, however, I must make a confession.

I don’t watch t.v. There’s something about the serialized series that just does not do anything for me. I don’t spend much time in front of that screen so emblematic of the 1950s. It is not designed for me in mind. When looking at the things which are generally popular, none of them interest me. Unlike other mediums, television seems the most focused on hitting that ‘mainstream’ audience. I don’t know why that is, perhaps it is an unfair assessment. All I know is when my tastes don’t align for typical fare in other mediums, it is not too difficult to find a niche that I enjoy.

Perhaps I simply gave up on t.v. too early. When considering what I would do for this post, I ran through the few usual suspects of anyone in my position. I considered discussing those shows that did resonate with me. But what is there to say of Arrested Development, Firefly, Six Feet Under, Community or Pushing Daisies? They’re all slightly quirky. They’re all excellently done. They each strive to hit a specific style and accomplish it with varying degrees of success. And most of them were cancelled well before their time because they could never catch the mainstream taste and are left in some strange, unfinished or hastily completed limbo. Each speaks of the injustice afforded whatever endeavour that strives for something odd, different or unsafe. The sole exception being Six Feet Under which managed to survive perhaps longer than it deserved mercifully because it was broadcasted on a lesser known channel which was happy for whatever views it could obtain.

Accessed from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paranoia_Agent.

Paranoia Agent belongs to Madhouse Studio and licenced for North America by Geneon.

No, I’d rather discuss a piece that is complete. I’d rather discuss an anime.

The shock and horror–I know! I’m not a weeaboo (a term that, if you’re unfamiliar with then you most certainly aren’t one) and there are very few anime from Japan which I actually enjoy. One of the best, however, is a little series recommended to me by a random backpacker at a hostel in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It is Paranoia Agent. It is a show that I absolutely love and think it is brilliant.

And it is a show you will never watch.

I don’t mean to say that for hipster credit but simply because I can think of very few people that would like the series outside of myself. Paranoia Agent is something unlike most other anime. It falls into that strange camp as Atlus games and Serial Experiment Lain. It is, primarily, weird. I’ve seen it twice and outside of loving it both times, I find myself unsure if I’ve truly got it both times. Not that Paranoia Agent is as indecipherable as Serial Experiment Lain. It’s a thematic piece and it wears its themes plainly. The rich symbolism employed serves to heighten and strengthen the story–not carry it. But it is a story that is, nevertheless, steeped in Japanese cultural. I love it because it is so refreshing. It’s something that would never be made in western entertainment and for that it says far more about human nature than its creator likely ever supposed.

But Paranoia Agent is bleak. It is unsettling. It is unpleasant. It is a complex psychological thriller that dips into so many stories, ideas and characters as to be nearly confounding. Its opening credits is perhaps the perfect highlight for what it is. Its title track, Dream Island Obsessional Park (such a delightful example of Engrish in all its glory), is overlaid an aggressively confusing series of shots containing characters standing in peculiar locations laughing maniacally. I don’t use that word lightly. It starts with a young woman, bare foot with shoes in hand, standing upon a highrise rooftop laughing into the wind as a heavy rain transitions us to two young boys in the wrecks of a typhoon struck suburb as the waters threaten to wash them away–while laughing. We see a girl submerged beneath water, a man standing upon the sky upside down, two women in a trash heap, a woman in the wreckage of a home, a man on a radio tower with a mushroom cloud in the backdrop, a homeless woman on the table of an upscale restaurant, a traditionally dressed tourist upon a snowy mountain peak, an elderly man dressed as an orchestral conductor on the moon and finally a school-aged boy with gold rollerskates and a bent gold bat in a green pastoral field. Of course, all of them laugh.

It’s demented and amongst these incongruent places often outright depicted as plain destruction and devastation are the main characters of the narrative. It’s a perfect way to introduce a cast as rambling as its narrative structure. In thirteen episodes we are introduced to a staggering number of individuals who barely feature outside of their own story self contained to a single twenty-five minute spread. The main characters are Tsukiko-a character designer- and the detectives Ikari and Maniwa. Ostensibly, Paranoia Agent is about the investigation into an alleged assault on Tsukiko by the aforementioned kid with skates and a baseball bat. But that isn’t what Paranoia Agent truly is.

The show is a rather harsh and unyielding criticism of modern society. Those other characters flashing past in its opening segment are the window into the troubled lives of individuals who struggle with school bullying, terminal disease, multiple personality disorder, gang corruption, parental abuse, constricting patriarchal expectations, dangers of virtual worlds, repressed fear and guilt and an ever increasing inability to handle all the pressures and stress building upon the cast until it forms an all-consuming tidal wave to consume them all. The main thread, however, focuses on people’s tendencies to retreat and try to escape their problems instead of addressing them. Here, the criticism is leveraged against societies tendency to extol and promote this behaviour. Tsukiko is the creator of the famous Maromi–a pink dog whose sole purpose is to be cute and gently comfort people in order for them to forget their troubles and woes.

Rather obviously contrasting this is the series primary antagonist, anglicized as Lil’ Slugger and taking the appearance of an elementary school student that shows up when people are at their lowest and in desperate need for escape. He provides it with a harsh strike from his bat. As the series goes on, this takes a turn from a minor injury which hospitalizes Tsukiko for a few days and leaves her with a quickly healed limp to outright pummeling the individual to death–arguably the definitive escape from one’s issues.

The show is heavy with its character study and psychological examination. It’s why someone like me absolutely adores it. But when examining the human psyche, one is unlikely to be exploring happy themes or stories. This isn’t your standard anime where a bunch of highschool students are on a fun romp to save the world from a supernatural horror. In fact, the supernatural horror itself turns out to be nothing more than man’s cowardice and overbearing despair in face of the pressures and isolation of modern society.

It’s not all doom and gloom, however. If there is an element of hope weaving through the series, it is that we are all connected and tied together. Ostensibly, this is framed as a problem as Tsukiko’s underlying psychological turmoil turns out to be such a minor issue that blossoms and grows wildly out of proportion and control as it infects, like a disease, those with even a simple fleeting connection to her. But though her issue is of such little significance, it is through the assistance of strangers that these problems are addressed. When we fall to our lowest, it is often the most unlikely people who can have the greatest impact on our lives. It takes near thirteen episodes for this ray of hope to shine upon the grueling dreariness that is the building despair of the cast but that it comes after all that slogging through mud and filth makes it all the more powerful.

Which is great for even at its best, Paranoia Agent still deals in simple plots and devices. The dialogue is not necessarily rich–perhaps owing to its translated nature–but the themes and characters of this twisted world more than make up for it. And for all its encouragement at its end, Paranoia Agent is not shy about still ending on a disquieting note. Much like it starts, the show concludes much the same way it started. Despite all the grandiose and city encompassing destruction that the story of Lil’ Slugger and Tsukiko covers, we’re left with the same shots of faces people complaining about their poor lot in life. It’s a pessimistic look, for certain, for though Tsukiko and the other characters which touched her life are changed, the rest of the world is not and we are left on nearly the exact same note as when we started: a crazed man in a hospital parking lot looking up in horror after coming to some inscrutable conclusion from an incomprehensible equation only he can understand.

In many ways, it reminds me of Lovecraftian horror. But instead of some tentacular beast from the distant unknowable stars coming to consume us, it is instead the horrors we produce on our own which threaten our society that dangles on the weakest of threads.

So, please, watch Paranoia Agent. It’s a fantastic series which no one will ever put on.

I am Divergent

Leave a reply

Book Cover – not my image.

The latest greatest craze for young adult novels is Divergent by Veronica Roth. It is well loved by more than just teenage girls (though I am not entirely certain on the breadth of its audience). Divergent is described as a well-written dystopian future with a richly created female lead. As I said, I have only heard positive things about this book. So, with some trepidation I plunged into the futuristic world of crumbling cities, segregated populace and randomly running trains.

Divergent is set in an unspecified city – though according to the back it is meant to be Chicago. I am not American, so likely I missed all the obvious references. For reasons, definitely not explained, society as we know it has crumbled and been replaced by five competing factions that have until the start of the story managed to work peacefully and effectively together. Each faction is dominated by a single personality trait: honesty, selflessness, happiness, intelligence and bravery. Each faction is responsible for a different aspect of life in a functioning society: Candor = the legal system, Abnegation = government and all volunteer organizations, Amity = farming and health care, Erudite = research and development, and Dauntless = security.

At the age of sixteen each member of society takes an aptitude test which is a short series of hypothetical scenarios in a virtual reality setting. Using a process of elimination the results will tell the person which faction they belong in. After the test, the sixteen-year-olds then choose the faction they would like to belong to. Strangely this Choosing Ceremony involves cutting your palm with a shared knife and dropping blood into a bowl representing one of the five factions.

Image from the recent movie – not my picture.

My first question was why? Why do they need to physically shed blood during the Choosing? Yes, I get that it is symbolic. The words that hold up society are Faction before Family. By bleeding for your faction you are binding your blood with theirs. Still, it seems unnecessary.

While most children will stay in the faction they were raised, those that leave for new factions are then condemned by their families and taunted by their new faction. I don’t really understand this reaction as it seems to run counter to the Choosing Ceremony and Testing. If you don’t want your children to change factions, then why give them a choice in the beginning?

After the Choosing, the sixteen-year-olds undergo Initiation. Again, I don’t know why we have a redundant set-up. The person has already been tested via some system whose results are not generally called into question. The young person has then made their choice. What is the purpose of Initiation? The flimsy excuse that it is the factions’ chance to weed out its members seems contrived. It is clearly an excuse to bully the Initiates, to put them through hazing rites.

So we follow our young female protagonist from the life she has been raised to the aggressive chaos of the Dauntless Pit. The cult of the Dauntless styles itself as a cross between military discipline and aggression and punk rebellion. They wear black. They are heavily tattooed, pierced, and dyed. They do crazy, bad-ass stunts that would normally be considered stupid. Ostensibly to prove how brave they are, the Dauntless will jump on and off moving trains. They will fight each other using their fists, guns, knives or any other weapon. They will theoretically face their fears. Everything about them is aggressive and often violent. They drink until drunk. They yell loudly. They jump off really high buildings to ride zip-cords. And they apparently only see violence as evidence of fearlessness.

Wow, don’t they sound cool?

Book Cover – not my picture.

Well, not really. Bravery or fearlessness is not marked by the ease in which you can kill another person. Just because you can pound the flesh of your opponent into the ground doesn’t mean you are dauntless. It is a very limited view on the concept. Now, to show some fairness the author obliquely mentions this was not always the way the Dauntless worked. However, the manner in which she concludes the story with a very violent night of executions ending with their protagonist easily killing dozens of people seems to celebrate the violence of the faction.

One thing that struck me in this world: who controls the trains and why do they never stop? It seems like such a simple question, almost inconsequential. However, the fact that there is no answer really starts to demonstrate the incompletion of the story’s world. I am not even going to question the serum or the fact that the protagonist inexplicably finds herself drawn into the greater conflict. I will not ask why the male lead randomly is attracted to our female protagonist – because presumably that can happen in real life. Of course this is a perfect relationship in which he truly understands her, though they don’t spend a great deal of time talking. I will not even question the timeline. In only one month’s time, our decisive protagonist becomes an expert in hand-to-hand combat and the most amazing marksman. All this while still recovering from a number of very serious injuries – I think she might be a relative of Wolverine.

There are two final things I would like to bring up in this incoherent ramble.

First, it is obvious from the start these factions are cults. There is no better way to describe the uniformity of action and thought demanded by the factions. It makes you wonder again how they started and how they had been getting along for so long before our book starts. It is makes me question the initiation process once more. Initiates that fail this process are kicked out of the faction (or the case of the Dauntless are likely dead) to become Factionless. The factionless are the homeless in this futuristic world. Why? I suppose they must all have failed their initiation. Strangely enough they also serve a purpose performing jobs that no one else wants. So why do they continue to accept the abuse they are given? Why does the Abnegation not incorporate them back into the factions? Perhaps the answers to some of the questions are answered in the other two books of this trilogy.

Symbols for the different factions – found the image on the interwebs – certainly not my own product (I think it is a movie poster but I could be wrong).

Second, how does being Divergent give you super powers? Just because your test results are inconclusive (you show equal aptitude for two or more factions), you suddenly can perform actions faster and better than anyone else. If anything, I could see this being a hindrance, you are not so focused. Instead those who are divergent can recognize they are in simulations (a trait unique to them) and they are harder to mind-control (which apparently is the purpose of each cult – I mean faction). This is stupid. There is – at least there shouldn’t be – anything special about our female protagonist. However, in fact she is special, super-powered because of her divergent nature. It is rather amusing as we start to learn there are a number of divergent people living in this world. But don’t tell anyone.

Divergent bears a strong resemblance to the Hunger Games. Both narratives are told first person, present tense from the female protagonist’s perspective. Both involve poorly structured dystopian societies. Both books celebrate and glorify violence and the killing of others. They both end in the slaughter of a number of characters. Tris in Divergent is more decisive than Katnis in the Hunger Games. I find both characters waver between bland and unlikeable – perhaps a reflection of my ancient age.

In summary: Divergent is a silly story with serious flaws of character, plot and world building. That said, it is far better written than Twilight (the lowest of low). Having read the story, I still don’t understand why people who are not sixteen like it.

A Lovely Murder-poo

Leave a reply

Well, The International has reached its conclusion but I shall not be expressing my feelings on that. This is my month of positivity so I must post things that I adore! Last week I spoke at greater length than was necessary about one of my favourite bands. This week I want to focus on a different medium: movies! Get any group of people together an invariably a discussion about the latest or bestest moving picture is. Have any great desire for discourse on the subject and you’ll invariably get the dreaded question: What is your favourite movie.

Of course, picking a favourite movie is as hard as picking a favourite book, song or video game. There is just way too much breadth and variability to compare the different experiences offered by entertainment to ever really pick a true answer. How do you compare a really good comedy to a really good tragedy? Neither seek to produce the same emotion or entertainment and it is near impossible to ever say which is better when they share such few metrics for comparison. It is invariably a lot easier to ask one what is their favourite in a genre since those works are a lot easier to break-down and contrast.

Unless, of course, your movie crosses genres.

Accessed from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clue_movie.

Clue theatrical poster. Belongs to Paramount Pictures.

At any rate, I’m going to talk about two comedies. These aren’t necessarily my favourite comedies either but they are both similar and warrant a combined look nevertheless. I have fond memories of both, coming across them at different times in my life. I wouldn’t say they are equivocal–but both take a different approach to their shared goal that it’s hard to hard to say, ultimately, which I prefer over the other.

I am, of course, discussing Clue and Murder by Death. Oddly enough, it was the more recent Clue that I saw first. I was perusing the old Jumbo Video (and that alone should date me) with my aunt when I stumbled across this peculiar flick. As a child, I was intrigued. I loved the boardgame and here was a video ostensibly made with all the familiar characters of Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock. I was a little concerned as I took it to my aunt for permission as it did bill itself as a murder and I didn’t know if I would be allowed to view it. To my mind, you could not break categories and to have both a comedy and mystery in one was something I didn’t fully comprehend.

But I loved the thing the moment it went into the VCR. It was silly and off-the-wall. But just as it came to an end, something peculiar happened.

The movie didn’t stop but rewound to an earlier moment and picked up from Wadsworth’s explanation. Unfortunately, given our dated technology, the tape of the movie could not accurately replicate the theatre experience. For what I was witnessing was something I had never seen before. There was not one ending to the movie but three. Years later I learned that all three were produced and shipped to different locations. Depending on where you saw the film, there was a different culprit to the murder.

Accessed from http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/36/Clue_1985_film_cast.jpg.

Clue film cast.

It was strange and it was brilliant. This silly little film did something rather extraordinary. With the inevitably discussion that would follow later with peers, people would discuss the film and its conclusion only to discover that their answer to the mystery may not be the conclusion their friend saw. I can only imagine the confusion that this would cause and it perfectly sums up the frantic style of the movie as well as being faithful to the boardgame it spawned. Despite its rather shallow and meagre offering, Clue presents a rather intriguing undermining of audience expectations by toying with the very frame which movies are made. I’ve seen it multiple times since and each ending works with the film. It may not have the strongest dialogue and it wastes quite a bit of time with filler antics but otherwise it sets up multiple explanations for the murders which occur. When Wadsworth is explaining how a culprit could perform the deed, if you rewatch those scenes the possible guilty parties are absent. There’s an attentiveness to small details that just brings the entire package together.

More than that, however, Clue plays joyfully with the tropes of a mystery. Our expectations for these capers is that there is one correct explanation which the investigator must solve in order to crack the case. But for this movie, that is not the case. It almost exists in a certain quantum uncertainty–this made even more apparent with the DVD format restoring the ability to randomize how the film will end each time you view it. Dotted lovingly throughout the film are red herrings surrounding nuclear physicists that make me wonder if the quantum analogy isn’t perhaps done purposefully. It forms the audiences expectations for a tidy conclusion then insidiously destroys them the moment you stand up and speak to someone else about the conclusion.

Accessed from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_By_Death.

Murder by Death poster. Owned by Columbia Pictures.

Murder by Death is, surprisingly, a movie along the same vein. It follows a group of individuals brought to a mansion where a murder occurs and locks them inside until the mystery can be solved. Whereas Clue embraces its nebulous narrative and uncertain outcome until the conclusion is reached, Murder by Death instead lampoons the mystery genre rather than its structure. Each guest is an immediately recognizable caricature of a famous fictional detective. We have a Sam Spade, Ms. Marple, Hercule Poirot and others. Each are brought alive by similarly famous actors like Peter Falk, Maggie Smith and Peter Sellers.

However, whereas Clue struggles in unnecessary scenes, some misplaced slapstick comedy and rather uninspiring dialogue at times, I find Murder by Death far more searing in its discourse. There’s more wit in its scenes and treatment of characters–fueled on by its need to satirize the mystery genre in its entirety. The detectives are revealed, one by one, to be cheap charlatans who rely on cheap toys and tricks in order to further their suspense in unnatural and baffling ways to keep their audience on their toes. These very same tricks are utilized by the movie in order to showcase how these manipulative devices are used to deny the audience of its mystery. There’s a condemnation at the heart of Murder by Death’s ridiculous action and its towards the authors and their penchant to cheat the audience of playing the detective themselves. The movie is fascinating as it’s almost a video essay on the director’s opinion of how not to write a mystery. That meta-genre knowledge is really what drives the humour of the flick though there are plenty of other jokes for those less savvy on the genre.

But while Murder by Death may be scathing in its view of the mystery genre, it is also an ode to its accomplishments as well. It reads like a love letter but a disgruntled but otherwise devout fan. At the end of the day (or night in Murder by Death’s case), while it recognizes that the motivation for the vast majority of writers is money, there still exists the love of mystery. We end with the bumbling detectives much as they were, unhumbled by their experience and heading home to repeat their romps in whatever fashion that has made them famous. But the closing scene reveals a final twist which still leaves the audience wondering and guessing over the villains plot, that air of mystery still leaving us wondering, guessing and desperate for more.

Accessed from http://www.sonymoviechannel.com/sites/default/files/movies/photos/mdrdt10h_8x10.jpg.

Murder by Death cast.

Ultimately, both Clue and Murder by Death are more than just comedies–they’re examinations of the mystery genre and the tropes used by their authors. They both seem well aware of the faults too typical of their medium. They’re bold in their bare-faced, unapologetic frailty. They demonstrate that no work is perfect but those imperfections need not detract from the overall experience. As the credits roll, they still had fun and, truly, is that not what we strive for with our entertainment?

Beautiful Creatures – Novel

Leave a reply

It used to be that I would only read one book at a time. For a while I would read the book of the day obsessively; starting the novel of interest and doing next to nothing else until I had finished the story. Then I grew older and now I find myself (for the most part) better able to put books aside when things need doing (unless it is near the end of the story). I am also reading multiple books at once. Until I finished Beautiful Creatures, I was reading four books. Two of them were re-reads – which I have been discovering are actually terribly written stories for different reasons. The third book is a recommendation that will likely evolve into its own post so I will say nothing more about it yet.

Book Cover – I didn’t like the look of the movie posters so this is the only image you get today.

This brings me to Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. It seems to be one of the more popular teen fantasy novels and yet another of that genre to be turned into a film (I have not seen the movie). The book’s story is not earth-shattering in its concept, progression or telling. It is however, a perfectly good coming-of-age, teenage fantasy romance novel. The writing is solid. There was nothing in the style or structure to cause offense. In fact I was pleasantly surprised to find the story told by the boy (Ethan) rather than the super-powered girl (Lena).

I also enjoyed the Deep Southern US small town setting with its neatly described ‘characters’. The main characters were part of large and complicated families – which is an excellent and realistic way to write about people. It is much better than the hero being an orphan – which I find cliched. The plot had all the usual drama associated with 15/16 year-olds: there was bullying at school (the super popular cheerleaders looked down their noses at the new girl to town), first and passionate romance (the kind that is destined and involves linked dreams and telepathy), the skepticism that adults actually know what they are doing (I personally love when the adults tell the teens they are being overly melodramatic), and the realization that the world did not work the way you thought it did (magic exists, parents lie to themselves and their children, and some people are just mean).

Beautiful Creatures examines at fate/destiny and good vs evil in the form of Casters (magic users) being claimed by either the Dark or the Light on the individual’s 16th Birthday. It touches on the role family history has in shaping our current world and the consequences of decisions or actions one makes. I feel there was an interesting opportunity to play more with the curse of the Duchannes family, the parallels between the past and the present and how interconnected everyone in a small town really is. And in fairness the authors may spend more time fleshing out some of their ideas. This is only book one in a series. Thought I currently have no plans to read the rest of the series.

The ending is not particularly surprising. It is not the strongest element of the book either – which likely is a reflection of this being the first novel in a series. Again, I feel there was a missed opportunity to tie the fragmented scenes of the past to the present. I was disappointed that the main character had even less to do with the final conflict than was teased throughout the story. It is set up that Ethan will somehow be in a position to save or at least try to save Lena. He doesn’t. And while Lena is supposed to save Ethan (not a bad concept) it was not sharply handled.

Over all the story is a well-crafted, predictable tale about two people falling in love for the first time and facing the uncertainties of life. I enjoyed the blend of realistic small town America and the fantasy of magic users in a fight between the light and the dark. It was good, solid and very nicely suited to its teenaged target audience.

Wish for a Night

Leave a reply

Long time, no post–amirite?

My apologies. Two weeks ago I went to visit Derek for the celebration of our nation’s birthday and he cruelly kept me from my posting duties. Then, as I was departing back to responsibility and proper work ethic, I was gifted a delightful cold as a departing present. So I spent much of last week unconscious upon the couch bemoaning the suffering of existence and life. I also produced lots of mucus. I have no idea what people did with that stuff before the invention of disposable tissues.

However, that won’t dissuade me any further. I have returned from the land of the half dead and weary to insure that I put some scribbling upon the site. Last I concluded was with a short endorsement for the very aged Thieves’ World anthologies. I realized that there may, perhaps, be a persistent negative edge to this blog. It is not my desire to fill the Interwebs with my criticism and pessimism. Thusly, I have decided I’m going to do nothing but a month’s worth of posts covering things that I actually like.

Today, I want to discuss one such topic that I am wholly ill-equipped to cover: music.

Accessed from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nightwish#mediaviewer/File:Imaginaerum_teaser.jpg

Imaginaerum poster art for power metal band Nightwish. Taken from wikipedia and possibly belonging to Solar Films.

I must confess, my knowledge and understanding of music is about as shallow as it can possibly get. I don’t know much musical theory. I know the basic components of songs and the handful of information bestowed upon me during my two years of musical classes in middle school which predominantly were composed of wailing futile on instruments that were very much not saxophones or drums. Of all the entertainment mediums, I always feel the least equipped to speak on music. I suppose, in a sense, that gives me the closest experience to those that interact solely on popular media: they are driven near entirely on their personal tastes with nary a consideration for the history or theory which directs and shapes the art.

My ability to discuss music is further hampered by the fact that I was born on the wrong continent. I have turned on a radio and what blares from the speakers holds very little interest to me. I can’t stand pop music which sounds so empty and soulless to my ears. Things like Brittany Spears, Lady Gaga and the girl with the whipped cream bra that shoots long streams of the desert in her music video all blur together both in sound and presentation. I loathe rap–it’s like someone took poetry and forced it to only concern an equally manufactured sense of toughened authenticity by elevating the worst of urban crime and discrimination. It also sounds the same and horrendous to my unrefined ears.

I won’t even touch country.

Alas, those three genres are the kings of North America and woe be to the counter-culture individual who finds their ears incapable of processing their noise into pleasurable sensations. However, I have discovered that the rest of the world does not languish beneath this vice-grip of the record moguls interested solely in regurgitating the same message and experience at infinitum. Other countries rebel against the oppression of the established elites. Other countries revel in the untamed anarchy of a style which refuses to be tamed and pacified.

Other countries still enjoy metal.

Accessed from http://www.motnueq.com/medias/images/nightwish1.jpg

Tarja and company from the band Nightwish. Not my image.

Europe and, to a lesser extent, Japan have their metal scenes which bear the torch of the 1970s subgenre which broke from the ruling Rock in the United Kingdom and United States. Here were the familiar sounds for a kid raised on Metallica and System of a Down (though, I think that’s technically Rock – I didn’t care as a kid). Actually, if I were to be honest and drop all this pretension of a downtrodden music genre, I can see some issues with the culture of metal on par with those of the prevailing genres today. There’s no denying the large emphasis on masculinity, aggression and machoism. I simply don’t have an issue with their general portrayal and, simply put, it’s fun to rock out to some head pounding beats.

Which brings me to my current tastes. Needless to say, while I still hold a fond part of my heart for the entertainment of my childhood and adolescence, my preference in music has become refined. In particular, the development of power metal is near the perfect amalgamation of sounds which I adore. They’re emotionally powerful, typically focusing on choruses which you can understand and covering theatrical fantasy subject matter. Sonata Arctica has songs about werewolves. Coheed and Cambria (though they’re more a mish-mash of various influences still have heavy metal components) releases concept albums covering a science fiction storyline set across planets connected by energy beams known as the Keywork (I think, I have no idea what’s going on with it). Dragonforce sings a lot about dragons. And Powerwolf… well… they also sing about werewolves.

Out of all of them, however, there is one band which I like the most. The range and variety of their soundscape is matched by none. And no other band really hits the symphonic components of the genre like they do.

I am, of course, talking about Nightwish.

Of course, any mention of Nightwish inevitably draws the question, “Tarja or Anette?” To this, I can merely shrug my shoulders and ask in the immortal words of the Old El Paso spokesgirl, “Why not both?” Course, now that Anette has left, I guess we’re going to have to start drawing lines amongst the fanbase into thirds. However, there is no denying that both have their place and each singer represents an almost completely different sound for the band. Tarja was the first and her almost operatic voice was equally commanding whether she was striking out the typical metal sounds of Wishmaster, a cover of Phantom of the Opera (even though that’s technically a musical) or even the eerie Finnish folklore songs of the Lappi ballad.

And though Anette doesn’t have nearly the power of Tarja, there’s something entrancing by her softer vocals. Contrast Lappi with The Islander and there’s just something that clicks with her rendition of the more folkish acoustics. Her wispy and childlike range fit Imaginaerum perfectly. I wasn’t a fan of the album at first but it would not have had the proper whimsy had Tarja been heading it. And she can hold her own with the standard metal fare like Bye, Bye Beautiful and Amaranth with the latter one of my favourites from the band.

The songs themselves cover a huge swathe of topics, too. The earliest albums cover the genre’s typical fantasy fare as demonstrated by Elvenpath and Wanderlust. But as the years have progressed, so have the subjects. Over the Hills and Far Away is about civil war. The Poet and the Pendulum seems to cover composing and being an artist. Bye Bye Beautiful is unapologetically about the split between Nightwish and Tarja.

Accessed from http://www.loadedradio.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/nightwish.jpg

Anette and company from Nightwish. Once again, not my image.

And the best part of all this is the music is still metal. However, it sheds the standard preconceptions that metal has to be all about screaming and noise. I find the symphonic elements heighten the emotional punch of the scores but it also softens the overall effect so that even my sister will unfailing start bobbing her head and whistling to the beats.

So, yeah, if you haven’t heard Nightwish this is my endorsement. It’s impossible to say where someone should begin given their wide breadth of sound. So I’ll just end off with a short list of what I think are the band’s most popular and leave it to you, discerning reader, to try them at your own wish… or peril.

Storytime (Imaginaerum) – their single from their latest album

Nemo (Once) – Kait recommended this one so it must have widespread appeal

The Islander (Dark Passion Play) – And now for something completely different

Wish I Had An Angel (Once) – The song that got me first hooked on the band

The Phantom of the Opera (Century Child) – Everyone loves cover songs

Ghost Love Score (Once) – I can’t make a list without including one of their ten minute songs

God and The Folk – Book Reviews

Leave a reply

While procrastinating my other work, I managed to read four books over the past four days. What follows is a simple book review of what I read; it may not be well-written, but you notice that I at least contributed!

Book Cover (not mine) – retelling of Beauty and the Beast

The first three books were all written by Melanie Dickerson: The Captive Maiden, The Fairest Beauty and The Merchant’s Daughter. They are all young adult, set in medieval times and retell classic fairy tales. The author is a devotedly faithful to the teachings of the bible, Jesus and God. I don’t know her exact denomination – however, her religious views are evident in her stories. All three of the books I read were modified to work some semblance of actual medieval reality (namely women have not position in society and there only goal is to marry someone who will take care of them) and God (all three maidens are deeply religious and it is their faith in god that allows them to succeed in overcoming hardships and finding the perfect man).

The books were fine. They felt authentic to the times with actual research into medieval life obviously completed by the author. The stories progressed along the classic lines of Beauty and the Beast, Snow White and the 7 Dwarves and Cinderella. There were some changes – as one would expect in a new retelling of a very old tale. I will also add that I like the way the author tied together Fairest Beauty and Captive Maiden to her other novel The Healer’s Apprentice – that was neatly done.

Book Cover (not mine) – retelling of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

They were slightly offensive in that every heroine was divinely beautiful (inside and out – the author was quick to point out). I found this most frustrating in the Cinderella retelling as the evil people in that story was generally described as hideous – and much effort was made to emphasize the ugliness of the villains. Yet, while I appreciate the effort made to reflect the medieval period in which the stories were set, I found the general oppression of women too much for me to handle. There was no complexity to the characters or genuinely interesting twists to the old plot lines. Being that I am not devotedly Christian, the insertion of God only made these stories more banal and lifeless.

I like the classic fairy tales. I love when they are retold in new and exciting ways. I prefer when they are told in different worlds – so are not restricted to our history. These were fine stories, but they were not exciting, were definitely slow in pace and progress, and were not my thing.

The other book I read (not young adult) was surprisingly more enjoyable than I had expected when picking it up. Shanghai Sparrow by Gaie Sebold had an ugly – at least unappealing cover – but I picked it up anyway. Without reading much of the back I borrowed this book from the library. The main protagonist, Evvie, is a spirited orphan thief when we first meet her on the streets of London. She is about to get roped into a devious plan that will involve training at Britannia’s School for female spies, learning as much as she can about etheric sciences and travelling halfway around the world in an airship. Granted the time in Shanghai doesn’t happen until the very end.

Book Cover (not mine) – I still think there is something unappealing about the monsterous creature (which does not say Dragon to me).

It was an interesting tale set in steampunk, Victorian England. It was darker (but not too dark) and filled with the Fey. I am not a big fan of the Fey (or Fay or however you spell it). In this book they were the Folk. And while the Folk were intimately tied to the story they did not overpower the telling so I was able to ignore most of the aspects of the Fey I don’t like (primarily their other world – which is often considered underground of our own). The main heroine is quite likeable and the plot generally progressed at a good pace. There was the strange cut out, part way through the narrative when we skipped back in time to experience Evvie’s childhood. It was not my favourite section – though I do appreciate the author’s attempt to show and not just tell.

Still of all the books I have read recently, and not just the four I admit to reading this weekend (but the other’s really terrible books not worth mentioning by name) this has been my favourite. I like that it was fun. I like the twists in the plot and the character development. I liked the world in all its imperfect, smoke choked glory. I liked that it is a stand-alone (at least it is to my knowledge as I write this).

Stumble through time – Downton Abbey

Leave a reply

Downton Abbey is a period drama that came highly recommended. Everybody I know who has seen this TV series raves (positively) about it. After debuting in 2010 it has only taken me four years to finally watch the first season. Being a British drama, this meant only 7 episodes.

Obviously I own none of these images – all curtesy of the internet.

First reaction was a sense of general enjoyment, enough that I then borrowed season 2 from the library. So, what did I like about this series? Well, first response would be to adamantly celebrate the two old ladies dominating the cast: the amazing Penelope Wilton and the incomparable Maggie Smith. These two women steal every scene they grace with their presence. I liked the visuals, it is a very pretty set. The costumes are gorgeous. The actors do a good job with what they are given. I quite enjoy the concept of following both the upstairs and downstairs of a very well to do country estate during the early decades of the 20^th century.

Maggie Smith as Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham – One of the Very Best Characters.

However, some discussion has presented several very real and substantial issues I have with the program. My mother’s first reaction to the first season was, ‘This is so Pride and Prejudice’. Of which I quite agree. However, Jane Austin’s work took place over a hundred years earlier. Does this mean that English society did not change one bit over the intervening time? I am not an expert in English history (far from it), but even I feel things must have changed even a little during that time. Instead, so much seems to have been borrowed from those classic stories, the plots, the petty trials of the upper class men and woman, the cadence of their speech.

The scenes in Downton are supposed to be snapshots of daily life. Unfortunately I am left confused about much of what happens during the day – primarily for the Earl’s family. Do the women really spend 14 hours dressing, drinking tea and eating dinner? The script makes tantalizing suggestions of philanthropy activities beyond the walls of the house. Why do we never hear about them?

Penelope Wilton as Isobel Crawley – One of the Very Best Characters (foreground); David Robb as Dr. Richard Clarkson (backgound)

I like the everyday drama’s they make the best stories for the setting and visuals. They also make some of the best episodes; such as when Mrs Crawly is searching for an occupation in the village, the day the fair comes to town or the flower show. All of these are everyday sort of events taken from the perspective of the Family and Staff. Unfortunately not nearly enough time is spent on these little things.

In fact I have several complaints about the writing. First, why is every relationship a love triangle? Seriously! If a romance is teased between two characters, a third is suddenly introduced. Does this mean that the only desirable partner in life is one that another already covets? When one party loses interest in pursuing the relationship, will the other person lose interest as well? I get that we are watching a TV series, but not every relationship on the planet is a love triangle or quadrangle. Sometimes, two people meet, become friends and fall in love. They can have all sorts of tiny disturbances as personal opinions and biases are bound to colour their perspectives on various life things. The current set up is simply too melodramatic for me to maintain my suspension of disbelief.

Second, why does everyone like Mary? She is a selfish, self-centred bitch and yet no one (except the middle daughter) seems to recognize this. In fact, if a man is introduced to the scene he instantly is attracted to her. Does she produce a particularly intoxicating mix of pheromones? Now, I don’t have a problem with the concept of dislikable lead character. I even appreciate the idea the creators have in giving Mary some sympathetic scenes to create a more balanced character. I don’t think they were successful in what they did, but that is me. Still, more of the other characters should be able to see her for the bitch she is. Really, this illustrates a greater problem of not fleshing out the characters. Edith the second daughter is as bland as board. Their mother’s American background has never had any bearing on the character. I think the writers have been a little more successful with the great Lord Grantham and his recently chosen heir. Similar to the Family, many of the servants are one dimensional stock characters fixated on their good or evil perspectives.

The Three Sisters: Laura Carmichael as Lady Edith Crawley (middle child); Jessica Brown Findlay as Lady Sybil Crawley (youngest); and Michelle Dockery as Lady Mary Josephine Crawley (the eldest).

Third, what is the timeline? So, the first seven episodes span a two year period. The problem there is no sense of time flow as the episodes occur. The stuff that happens in the first episode or two is still fresh gossip by the end of the season. Really, do people have so little happening to cling to the petty gossip two years old? Perhaps things are spread out more? The problem is I cannot tell. There are not clear markers to indicate the changing of the seasons. For all intents and purposes all the episodes could have occurred over a four month period. There is nothing wrong with spanning a two year time, just make sure that comes out in the dialogue. The characters should have been referencing new scandals and incidents (that we obviously didn’t see).

This brings me to one of my brother’s greatest complaints and soon to my primary issue – Mary and the Turkish Ambassador. This episode has everything that is wrong with the series in it. It creates a love triangle/quadrangle with Mary and her consortium of male admires. The Turk is instantly taken with the eldest daughter of the Earl’s house. So much so, he goes beyond the acceptable flirting to convincing her to have sex with him during his one night stay. Then, in keeping with the ridiculous series of improbable events he dies upon her. Melodrama at its best, I suppose. So, of course, Mary cannot be found out. She enlists the help of her maid and mother to move the hefty Turk to his room where he will be found in the morning. Naturally, this is scandalous. Naturally there is a witness (of sorts). What is not natural is that it continues to be a threat to the family. At first it is one of the footmen that starts to spread the rumour of Mary’s misdeed. Then Mary’s own sister writes the Embassy about what she has overheard to have happened that night. Ok, footman is an ass and stirring up trouble – whatever. Edith however has as much to lose from the scandal brought to the family if this is flung around town. Also, the threat of such a scandal is still potent nearly four years later, when it is brought out once more in the first episode of the second season. What was a stupid plot to begin will not die. For an important diplomant, whose signature was supposedly necessary for peace with Albania – there were never any political ramifications. The only lingering plot device is the potential to tarnish Mary’s reputation – which shouldn’t be that great as every should already know she is a bitch. I simply do not care! I am tired of this thread and wish it would finally get buried beneath a mountain of granite never to see the light of day again.

This the ‘upstairs’ portion of the staff with the upstairs house maids flanking the central group of footmen, Her Ladyship’s maid, the Butler and Housekeeper.

The second season commences two years after the end of the first season. I still don’t understand the purpose these time jumps have. Well into the First World War there is much you could talk about. Instead, the writers are busy trying to ramp up the drama between all the couples in the story while only paying passing homage to the struggles of the times. I am not impressed and just about ready to wash my hands of the entire series.

A World of Thieves

Leave a reply

It is nearing the end of a quarter and I have work due for competitions while I pound away on my second novel. I inform you of this so that you can understand how I may lose track of time every now and again and I totally didn’t mean to not post yesterday – I just merely forgot it was Monday. Regardless, I have been rather busy with my work and preparing another adventure up north that I have little to share. Combined with some recent posts focused on complaining, I thought it was perhaps high time that I wrote a glowing and wonderful review that extols the enjoyment of this medium and art form. So, of course, here’s a long overdue praising of the anthology Thieves’ World.

“What inspired you to write?” no one asked me ever. But if they did, I am certain I would list Robert Asprin and Lynn Abbey’s 1980s anthology collection as one of my biggest influences. On the rare occasions I actually discuss fantasy with anyone, I always mention it as one of my favourite series. This usually prompts a “who?” from my companion which gives me the impression of a well learned hipster. Let others have their Tolkiens, Rothfuss’, Salvatores and Bradleys for I am more than happy with the rough and seedy world of Sanctuary.

Thieves’ World Book 1 cover. Obviously, I do not own the rights to any of these.

Sadly, I am not a hipster. I didn’t choose Thieves World as my favourite series because no one has ever read them. In fact, I was rooting through questionable second hand book stores for elusive copies to finish my twelve volume collection well before I cared about social presentation and fitting in with my peers. In fact, it was an act of serendipity that I stumbled across the works in the first place. I was visiting my Aunt and she took me to this large warehouse where rows and rows of books stretched out like a literary farmer’s market. Placards dangling from thin chains were the only guideposts for navigating the maze of tables in search fare which would be palatable to my tastes. I was a child raised on Lewis and Tolkien and long gravitated towards the fantasy genre even though this particular place had only the smallest section devoted to my budding imagination.

I peered over the narrow collection squeezed between horror and murder mystery – for I was well in the fiction portion of the warehouse and in the late eighties the crime and suspense genres were in full swing. On reflection, I should not have been surprised by a lack of frolicking and light-hearted tales. If ever there was an adoration for gritty realism it would be the time when even James Bond fell into the edgy era of Timothy Dalton’s Living Daylights and Licence to Kill. Here was a small collection of dark covers with a fascination for blood and weaponry sandwiched between the walnut cracking biceps of Conan the Barbarian.

I don’t know what attracted me specifically to this collection. Had I to guess, it would have been its oddly pear-white border shared with its brethren amongst those dark tomes. Of course, as a child, my decisions were based hardly on fact or reason. This cover had a large, red clad gladiatorial figure looming over some ratty individual in bright blue as a classical Romanesque figure stood motioning in the background. There was a sense of life on its front but it bore the wear and fade of time. I picked it up, thumbing through the aged yellow pages curious over the held tale. I know I debated long and hard whether I wanted this book. I had only the one to pick and that it had so many in its series was both a blessing and curse. Reading over the back, I discovered that it wasn’t just the beginning of a lengthy saga as fantasy is so apt to follow now but merely a collection of disparate tales bound together like some medieval manuscript plucked from some forgotten vault.

I took the plunge, thinking if I did enjoy it I would have many more to look forward to reading and if it was awful then there was no great loss since it was self contained anyway. I wouldn’t be left with some dangling thread or cliffhanger urging me to purchase the next installment.

I took the book proudly to my aunt and it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

I’ve read the series over and over through the years and can say, with certainty, that my love for the books is not due solely to being a child and having no taste. There was something fresh and exciting about the stale, despicable land of Sanctuary. This was not a world of glorious heroes, distressed damsels and wicked beasts. I did not know it at the time but the Thieves’ World anthologies represented everything I’ve argued for fantasy. It was unapologetically chaotic, despicable, salacious and objectionable. It was a series that placed the magnifying lens over the worst that humanity had to offer and it was unapologetic in the representations it gave.

It was also, predominantly, written by authors who didn’t write fantasy.

Here’s the original cover for the series and a great example of how varied the world and its characters are envisioned by different artists.

I don’t think this is a coincidence. I never appreciated the people behind the works until I started reading the collection of rants and essays provided the rare volume whenever the editor didn’t have enough submissions to fill out the pages. I found the real world struggle in producing the tales almost as fascinating as the stories themselves. They gave such insight into the creative process and the politics behind writing itself that carry every bit as much drama as the trials faced by the heroes on the pages.

But I am getting well ahead of myself.

Thieves’ World is, in essence, a literary game of Dungeons and Dragons. It spawned from the mind of Robert Asprin at a fantasy and science fiction convention where he conceived of creating a series composed of different authors writing in a shared space and with similar characters. He basically envisioned a written MMO. Authors would be given an idea of the world and setting, an outline of all other participating authors and their characters and given the freedom to do what they liked with the sole caveat that no author’s character was to be killed or disposed without their permission. Basically, the premise would be that Harry Potter, while spending his time fighting evil Lord Voldemort, would have moments when he’d stumble across private eye and magician Dresden on his way to solve another ridiculous crime and in that brief exchange the two could pass on important information or artifacts to help one another or maybe Dresden would divert a bunch of pursuing vampires to go bother Potter while he sneaked off to do whatever it is that character does.

Needless to say, there was copious amounts of alcohol involved in the creation of this series and probably quite a bit required for recruiting as well.

However, I find that this approach created a rather unique world. The setting was, essentially, a hastily drawn map handed out to a very diverse group of authors. In my envisioning, the city exists like a sort of dry, dusty northern African commune with mudbrick adobes and curious bazaars filled with relics from around the world. Other authors, however, had different visions and sections of the city would produce squeezing York narrows or grand palaces on raised hills. Instead of detracting from the overall experience, this hectic creativity lends a frenetic energy to the works. They breathe more fully than any other world. This clash of cultures added a strange diversity you can not find in any other work. Just when you think you have an idea of what the city of Sanctuary and its people are like, another author comes along and introduces whole swathes of locations and people that continue to delight and surprise.

I do not liken it to D&D for no reason. It is the only example of a collective creation that I can recall and the original premise – to have heroes weaving in and out of tales – creates a very personal and intricate web of deception and politics. While no great harm could be done to an author’s character, this did not exclude terribly inconveniencing them, dismembering them or murdering those closest to them.

And there is much inconveniencing, dismembering and murdering.

There is, of course, a danger to this format. Due to the wildly different nature of the authors, the writing style varied greatly. Also, authors and their characters came and went without any explanation of what happened to them. Some of my favourite authors contributed only one or two stories and their characters would feature as important players in a number of tales before quietly disappearing into the shadows. There were a few authors who I simply did not like and chief amongst them was the overly prolific Janet Morris who railroaded a few of the volumes with her obnoxiously do-goody Tempus and Stepsons who follow far closer in vein to the fantasy wish-fulfillment of Patrick Rothfuss then the den of thieves and anti-heroes of the other contributors.

More than anything, however, is the undermining of traditional fantasy tropes and expectations. As I mentioned, many of the authors weren’t fantasy writers. A number of them were more famous for their science fiction contributions and I feel there is a very distinct difference how authors, in general, approach the different streams. Blood Brothers by Joe Haldeman is perhaps the best example, following a despicable crime lord that runs the seedy popular tavern in town and whose story mostly focuses around a missing brick of illicit drug. The story is one of the more grounded and disturbing of the original bunch, owing in large part to Haldeman’s own admission that it was based on an experience of his during the Vietnam War.

Simply put, I love the Thieves’ World anthologies. I was really excited for the brief return of the anthology beneath Lynn Abbey’s care but, unfortunately, it lacked a lot of the heart of the original series. Partly, Lynn is a far more traditional fantasy author and I feel the two volumes produced beneath her were trending into a lot of the cliches of the genre the originals avoided. Mostly, however, it lacked all the characters that I had grown to love over twelve stories. Shadowspawn, Enas Yorl, Cappen Vara and even Prince Rakein were all absent and the new cast didn’t catch as well as the old. Possibly because there was only two books but it’s hard to say.

But I’m just going to use the reprinted covers since I spent well over five years getting a full collection of them.

Anyway, I full-heartily recommend the series to anyone who listens to me. My sister gave it a go but abandoned it because it was too “heavy” for her tastes. But, after having friends continuously push their favourites upon me without any consideration for my preferences, I think it’s only fair I do the same from time to time.

So if you can ever find them, pick them up! Though doing so may involve the harrowing adventure through musty and aged used book stores as I had done so many years ago.

X-Men: Days of Future Past

Leave a reply

Really, what can I say about this much anticipated, well-liked (according to Rotten Tomatoes) film? I know there are lots of people out there who really like X-men, who like anything to do with the comics. I could add that my mother really enjoyed the film. Or that my brother didn’t hate it. In fact, it was me who had the strongest negative reaction to this terrible addition to the X-men world.

My first and largest complaint is that the story essentially negates the first two X-men movies (X-men and X-men 2). I really enjoyed their stories and the characters and while both had their flaws, the resulting product was well executed. Days of Future Past (DFP) manages to reboot the franchise and thus rewrite history – even the really good stuff. This was disappointing.

The plot was ridiculous. Starting with the over-exaggerated grim future where a war against mutants and the humans who stand beside them are ruthlessly killed. The landscape is burnt black and there is no evidence of the winners of this terrible apocalyptic future. Seriously, if humans have managed to effectively cleanse the planet of the dangerous mutant threat, then where are they hiding? Why are they not running happily through the streets? Why is everything so impossibly grim?

So the magical sentinel robots manage to fight (with graphic brutality) and kill the mutants. They are able to target the mutant gene (I would love to know how) and amazingly they can target humans whose grandchildren will be born with this gene. First, in order to have this many different mutations, it is not one gene that is being affected. Second, exactly how do you screen for individuals whose distant relations will spontaneously develop a genetic modification. Please, someone glance at a biology textbook. Of course the super-duper robots are also able to adapt by copying the genetics of one super-special mutant. Really? I thought every mutant was its own special, unique individual – hence the variation in traits.

While the film was filled with cameos, it also heavily relied on the audience knowing most of the characters. At least it didn’t feel compelled to introduce many of the mutant extras – particularly those in the future. This may have had more to do with the fact those in the future spent the entire movie being torturously destroyed, violently ripped apart, etc. However, as my brother so neatly pointed out, there was no blood so that made the decapitations and subsequent skull smashing OK for a younger audience.

Ah, having now alluded to the future, I will divulge the twist, the main crux of the film takes place in the past. While time travel is stupid, the writers didn’t even bother to explain how this one happens. Further, their timeline, dates and technology do not mesh in the slightest. As the film is theoretically set about fifty years from today to create the Future, the main plot occurs in 1973 – for unknown reasons. It is amazing the robotic technology the super-genius villain is able to create using the most primitive computers. The sentinels of 1973 are more advanced than any technology we have now (40 years later). The age progression of characters seemed awkward because of this time travel plot.

Then there was the super cheesy characters and dialogue. Why is Wolverine the one to go back in time? Look people, he is kind of cool for his rapid healing, but there are lots of other really interesting characters in the X-men universe. Also, why does Eric have to be Evil all the time? Why did he supposedly kill JFK, only then confess he was trying to save the president? Why did Charles just accept this explanation so easily when he apparently spent the previous 10 years drowning his life and sorrows in drugs and alcohol? Why did this movie have to destroy the cannon set up in the first two films (the only two of worth)?

Most importantly, why am I even bothering to write about a film this bad? As my irritatingly observant brother noted, the writers, directors and general creators clearly didn’t care that much about the product they were creating. They didn’t bother to explain anything: the time travel, the magically amazing robots, the super-fabulous alloy that was not metallic, the room sunk beneath the pentagon that was accessed through locked doors but apparently not constructed of metal, the fact that whenever Raven/Mystique shifts she loses clothing when becoming herself but gains clothing when becoming someone else.

Movie Poster found on the internet.

The visuals were nothing special, the acting was, the fight scenes were largely predictable (expect the use of portals – which was pretty cool) and the final product was boring. It was long, tedious and didn’t make any sense. But it was not nearly as bad as Last Stand, so I guess that is something.