THUNDERCATS ARE GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have been waiting to say that since I first saw Juno. And now I can: my wife and I had our third child on Monday morning. It’s a boy, and he was 7 pounds 15 ounces, just like his older brother, coincidentally. Their big sister is thrilled, and everyone is happy but tired.
Hey everyone. I’ve recently begun a new project with a team of other online writers, called the Web Fiction Guide. It’s essentially a resource for readers, where we collect links to online fiction and post reviews. We’re also interviewing authors. It’s a fun ride: you get a quick library for fiction, alongside a five star rating system of what’s good, and what’s not worth your time. The reviews are by seasoned writers, instead of just drooling fanboys or trolls with grudges. You get different opinions, and different genres, all in one place. Check it out!
Now, you might be reading that title and going “What the? Shakespeare came from an age steeped in chauvinism and treating women like property.” People in a class I took in university thought he was particularly hard on women. Lady Macbeth gets cited as an example, because she asks that her feminity be taken away so she can commit murder. Hamlet’s Ophelia commits suicide, so does Juliet, and Cordelia (of King Lear) and Lavinia (of Titus Andronicus) are treated even more harshly.
So how is he a feminist?
Through subversion. Shakespeare is a sneaky writer. Almost every single one of his contemporaries spent time in prison for criticizing English rulers, government and tradition. It was really easy to end up in trouble for such views, or for religious heresy. You had to be very, very careful. Shakespeare found a way around it. The illusionist’s trick of “the hand being quicker than the eye” and diverting your attention elsewhere while he pulls off a “magic” trick.
When Shakespeare wanted to criticize English traditions, he showed them in a play about Rome, like Titus. Because England had ties to Rome historically, and admired and emulated their culture. They were an Empire too. He couldn’t get in trouble for mocking England, because England never got mentioned in the play. How do I know that Will liked subversion? Because of his plays. Hamlet in particular talks about the power of plays, wearing masks, and manipulating people. In King Lear, Edgar disguises himself as Tom of Bedlam, and passes honesty off as insanity. The Fool in Lear is also an honest character, whom no one takes seriously because of his role. Shakespeare was essentially saying “I can be as honest as I like, within a play, because you won’t believe it. You’ll think I’m merely playing.” But, all the time, an audience’s minds are absorbing information and ideas, and brains don’t know the difference between truth and lies, sarcasm and fact. They just absorb information, it’s up to the conscious person to interpret ideas later. But they’re still absorbed.
So, what does that have to do with feminism? That’s actually easier to prove, than my little theory about Shakespeare enjoying hiding things in the text. It’s quite simple. Cordelia is brutally killed, Ophelia pushed into depression, Juliet forced to kill herself, and Lavinia has things done to her that no one should ever read about. The audience may or may not have cared, on a societal level. Women were treated as property all the time. But two things happen in Shakespeare’s plays. You are deliberately led to feel sympathy for characters in tragedies, for one thing. You mourn Juliet and Cordelia, you feel sad for Ophelia and Lavinia. You care. That’s the first thing, and it’s easy for a modern audience.
Such empathy might not have been easy for a male-dominated British society. However, here’s the second thing: Shakespeare’s actors were men. So his audiences might or might not think “hey, she’s a girl, who cares what happens to her?” Or, maybe they still felt bad. But in their brains, their unconscious minds would go like this:
“Hey, Juliet’s a guy! (of course, it sounded more like Elizabethan English, I’m paraphrasing). You can’t abuse a guy! Lavinia’s a man! You can’t attack or rape a dude! That’s not proper behaviour! Someone should start a duel! That’s unacceptable for honour, for justice, for society!” Their brains would pull a switch. Unconsciously, if it’s wrong to hurt a man, even when they’re playing a woman, then maybe it’s wrong to hurt a woman, too. And so society begins to shift.
Of course, it helped that Queen Elizabeth was around and liked the plays. When the head of your male society is female, things have to start changing a little.
Why am I bringing this up? A) I like Shakespeare and studied him a lot. B) I’m subversive too. On the surface, No Man an Island is an adventure fantasy with some spiritual and religious themes. On deeper levels, it’s addressing things that I think are errors in theology and churches and people’s perspectives. I do it subtly. I also use traditional writing tricks about characterization and plot, and subtly use them in new ways to trick readers with preconceptions, until I ultimately lead them towards the truth in the story.
Want an example? 188. Rewind – Literature Debate is a great example of what I’m talking about. Sonja criticizes the “Special Child Syndrome” in literature, like Harry Potter being a special orphan with a destiny. Well, Ethan comes across as one of those in much of the story. There’s even a prophecy about it. But everyone’s story makes that individual special to themselves, and if they become aware of it, you get an Everyman story, which is a very different thing.
I’m sneaky. That’s what I like best about Shakespeare.
I can’t give away everything about the final meaning of No Man an Island, now that the story is complete. That would ruin some of the fun of seeing people speculate, and it would also destroy some of the plans for my ultra-cool sequel, now being written.
I will answer questions to the best of my ability. But, to be honest, some of those answers are already in the book, some of them are in the sequel, and some of them are to be found only in the reader. To a large extent, NMAI is structured like a meditative labryinth, with each suceessive twist and turn leading inwards to a spiritual insight, and taking you back out again. What that insight is, well, that’s really individual to each reader. And it might not happen for some, most, or all readers. It’s just part of what I hoped and planned for.
So ask me your questions, I’ll tell you no lies. But the truth, that is a tricky concept. I’ll do my best.
But here are the chapters that best point the way. I’m not providing links, because the NMAI Table of Contents has them all:
The Novel
The Ending
Different Car, Same Day
Gwen: Ethan’s Stories
Gwen: Ethan’s Journal
Gwen: Mistaken Identity
Gwen: Searching
The Wilderness: Nightmare
The Wilderness: Deja Vu
The Opening
100. Gwen
Pilgrim’s Progress: Young Love
Enigma: Morning Mystery
Enigma: The Search for Clues
All of Rewind, but especially Literature Debate, and Born on the Wrong Planet
then 209. Gwen to 216. Gwen: Stalemate
Psychomachia – a word worth looking up
all of Lost
all of Clarity and The Beginning. Two Key Words: Samsara and Maya.
Happy Hunting: Now, on with the questions!
For anyone following my blog and stories, you’ll know that I’ve been polling to decide what story to start on June First. The poll, and the stories, are at www.gavin7w.blogspot.com.
Well, unless something drastically weird happens in the next twelve hours, it looks like the winner is The Surprising Life and Death of Diggory Franklin. It was a working title, but I think I’m going to go with it. General Patton said it was “better a good plan now than a perfect plan next week” and it’s all I’ve got.
It was a surprising victory. The western story, The Untold Legend of Jonah Chalmers, had an early lead, but Diggory found some support somewhere and one by a single vote. Considering I tried to keep the race close by voting for Jonah, stir up some controversy, it actually wins by two votes. The Samaritan Project was a distant third place.
Diggory will be a bit of an experiment for me. I don’t have a lot of backlog, whereas No Man an Island was a completed novel. I’m going to be running under the gun, writing chapters on the fly, and hoping they work. It should be fun. It’s also the story with the least amount of planning, and the least clear story arc, so we’ll see how I do flying by the seat of my pants.
The good news for me is that I have back up stories if it doesn’t go well. But I’m going to do my best to get this story going, and to have fun with it.
I decided on some new casting decisions for our imaginary No Man an Island movie.
For Dorothy and Rebecca, Kate Bosworth and Shannyn Sossamon. Which means Kate isn’t playing Hope anymore, but Keri Russell is perfect for the part.
And, a new choice for a younger Genevieve, or an older Gwen: Jennifer Morrison from House (I’ve been watching season one on DVD, and I like her character, Cameron, a lot).
This post came about after some thinking from a comment on No Man an Island. The link to that discussion is here. My thoughts on the subject seemed larger than a comment on a chapter there, so it’s here as one of my rants.
I really enjoy the online community of readers and writers, and the opportunity the Internet affords for discussion. Having comments on each chapter of my book, NMAI, has helped me to become a better writer. I think it has also made my book more accessible and enjoyable for the audience. I also take some pride in the fact that my most frequent commenters all seem very well read, and some of them are in fact writers themselves.
One of the commenters, Lethe Bashar, asked about whether I had every considered providing episode summaries, every few chapters, in order to be more accessible to new readers. He himself has done this on his online story. I think that it’s a great idea for an ongoing serial, or episodic story. Comic books and television shows have this quality, and often have captions or clips to summarize previous stories that are relevant to a current issue or episode. It lets new, casual viewers jump into the storyline that long-term viewers are already aware of.
For television shows, which can have lifetimes surpassing decades, it is necessary to be accessible in order to draw a large audience. Comic books have the same longevity. They can’t expect someone new to buy the first issue, or rent the first season. They have to give them a reason to be interested NOW. Online comics and serial novels can have the same thing: their characters have rich “lives” with multiple episodes, and new readers can enjoy new episodes without having to read all the history. And, the neat thing is that internet stories have archives, so you can always spend the time to catch up. You don’t have to go buy the first issue from twenty years ago at great cost, it’s freely available.
I respect that kind of storytelling. Smallville, X-files, ER, Superman, the X-men, whatever. I like ongoing stories that have interesting “right now” episodes that are complete and tell a short story, but also have underlying subplots, character development, and over time build a mini-mythology.
However, No Man an Island is not designed that way. Form and function are inextricably linked in any medium. Any story has a beginning, middle and end. A series stretches the middle, so that the meaning of the overall story plays out over a long period of time, as underlying themes. The episodes in between, however, are like short stories. They have their own beginning, middle, and end, and they have their own small meanings. These small pieces contribute to the overall meaning, but can also have a meaning of their own, and exist semi-independently.
There is nothing independent about the structure of NMAI. From the very first line, everything builds towards the final sentence. It constantly refers to itself, builds its own symbolism, and ties events in one time period to seeds planted in another. Chapters might be “out of order” regarding chronology, jumping from 1994 to 2001 to 3000 B.C. and then to 2015. But the meaning of the plot is going in order, the way it is meant to be understood, the emotions it is meant to evoke.
It’s part of the tradition of literature, stretching back to Aristotle’s Poetics, where he discusses the function of plays. He defines art, and its purpose. Art causes the audience to respond with feeling to the object on display, whether in painting, sculpture, literature or theatre or music. Tragedy’s function is to create a catharsis, taking the awful things of life and giving them structure and meaning, so that the audience might suffer with the characters, and then resolve the suffering and feel better.
No Man an Island is a journey for the audience, from one step to the next. They are being led to experience particular emotions, ideas and understandings. To some extent it is supposed to be a spiritual labryinth, in the meditative tradition. A place to let go and be lost in an experience, that leads you inwards to some central enlightenment, before leading you back out into the world. Chants do the same thing, like the Jewel in the Lotus, the rosary, or a Muslim’s five times of prayer a day. Structure leads our minds to a point of thoughtless understanding of the whole.
If you read only a part of NMAI you miss steps. Some chapters might indeed be interesting on their own, for their own sake. But you would miss out on the greater structure and meaning and emotion.
In other words, an episodic story is like a quilt, each piece has its own appearance, meaning and history. Together, they create a whole, but they also have a meaning when they are apart. But a complete story, like To Kill a Mockingbird or Hamlet, is like a painting. You aren’t going to understand it by examining the brushstrokes — you have to step back and see the whole thing. Then, the individual moments or brushstrokes can be appreciated for their technique and placement. But individually they mean nothing.
Ladies and Gentlemen, for my own amusement I have decided to do showdowns between my favourite things. You will see me measure Lord of the Rings versus Star Wars (Original Recipe, not Extra Crispy) as “Best Trilogy.” You will see me rank Indiana Jones and Han Solo. Today, you will see me measure my two favourite Saturday Night Live alumni, Adam Sandler and Will Ferrell. Basically, I’m going to be going on and on about my opinion about the things I like, and you’re gonna listen! 🙂
So, the Showdowns, Number One: Adam Sandler versus Will Ferrell.
Round One: SNL
Adam and Will both really got their careers started on Saturday Night Live, that’s when they made their way into cultural consciousness. Like Bill Murray, Chevy Chase and Mike Myers, they got attention doing skits on Saturdays. I never really watched SNL and still don’t, but I was always semi-aware of it. Once in awhile I would tune in and check it out.
Sandler is a shy guy and actually started out as a writer, getting promoted to the stage when people realized he was funnier than some (most!) of the actors. He became known for skits like “Operaman” and “Canteen Boy” who would one day become the Waterboy. Ferrell was manic, playing crazy characters I never really “got” like in the Spartan cheerleader bit. His “Night at the Roxbury” character jumped to the big screen, dancing oddly. But it’s only funny in retrospect, after seeing his current stuff. I can look at earlier bits and go “oh, that’s what he was going for.”
Round One: Adam, because the Waterboy could kick both Doug and Steve Butabi’s asses, and Operaman is way funnier than a cheerleader.
Round Two: Cartoons
Sandler made “Eight Crazy Nights” and played at least three characters. He sings songs (even harmonizing three voices by himself). It’s crude, rude, a little too long, but there are some laughs. Ferrell? He made Curious George.
Round Two goes to Sandler, with a knock-down blow that almost puts Willy down for the count.
Round Three: Sports Movies
We dust off Ferrell from last round, and he comes out swinging. Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. Blades of Glory. Semi-Pro. Kicking and Screaming. The dude likes sports. Adam Sandler strikes back: Happy Gilmore. Waterboy. The Longest Yard. Unfortunately for Ferrell, not only do I like these movies better (with the possible exception of Ricky Bobby) but Adam can actually play the sports in question.
Round Three: Ferrell stays on his feet, and landed more blows/movies, but Adam made some bigger quality hits and is ahead on points.
Round Four: Real Acting Chops
Comedians don’t get a lot of respect from film critics. They’re not “serious.” They’re “immature.” As if you can compare drama and comedy. Well, when these two actors decide to get serious, they prove that there’s no boundaries for talent. Ferrell: “Stranger than Fiction.” Sandler: Punch Drunk Love, Spanglish, and Reign over Me. Ferrell holds his own with Dustin Hoffman, Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal. Impressive. Sandler? He’s got Don Cheadle, Emily Watson, and Phillip Seymour Hoffmann.
Now, Will might have a slight edge on Adam for co-stars (I mean, Hoffman alone is a titan!) but Adam put in three great performances. “Reign over Me” was a study in trauma and stress, “Spanglish” he plays someone I’d love to have for a best friend, and “Punch Drunk Love,” in my opinion, is a study in Asperger’s Syndrome quirks. He stims off a harpsichord, the movie is filled with distortions of sound and light, he doesn’t understand social situations or etiquette… I need to talk to the writer and see if he imagined it well, or knows Aspergers. It’s too much for coincidence.
I loved “Stranger than Fiction” but 3 to 1? Adam wins again.
Round Five: Gay Lovers
Adam pretended to marry Kevin James in “I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry.” Will took the extra step and made out with Sasha Cohen (from Borat) in “Talladega Nights.” I like James from “King of Queens” and “Hitch,” and I’ve never really liked Cohen. To be fair, I haven’t even seen Borat. But, you have to give Will credit for not pretending, and actually kissing his co-star. Not just once, but also at the MTV movie awards.
Round Five goes to Mr. Will Ferrell, for being dedicated to the bit.
Round Six: Co-Stars
Adam carries around his buddies from movie to movie. Allen Covert, Rob Schneider, Peter Dante, Steve Buscemi, John Loughran. Henry Winkler, Drew Barrymore and Dan Akroyd keep showing up. He likes his friends. Too bad Will Ferrell is buddies with Owen and Luke Wilson and Vince Vaughn, not to mention Paul Rudd and Steve Carell. His friends are more famous and funnier.
Round Six goes to Ferrell on points.
Round Seven: Final Face-off
Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler are very funny men. But the movies that made me fall in love with them as actors aren’t just physical comedy and pratfalls. They’re movies that, while having that component, are primarily humourous because of funny lines. Quips, punchlines, random moments, non-sequiters, I love verbal humour. Ferrell’s best? Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Adam? What else? Billy Madison.
Anchorman: “I don’t normally do things like this, but I saw you from across the party, and felt compelled to tell you something. You have a magnificent… heinie. I mean, that thing is good. I want to be friends with it.”
“Do you know who I am? I don’t know how to put this… I’m kind of a big deal. People know me. I have many leatherbound books, and my apartment smells of rich mahogany. Merlin Olsen visits, on occasion. No, wait, that’s stupid. Let me start over. I just want to put something out there. If you don’t like it, just send it back. I want to be on you.”
BIlly Madison: “Missy Lippy, the thing I don’t understand is, the kid looked for his dog for like an hour. You gotta think, you got a pet. You got a responsibility. You don’t just sit on your porch like a goon, you get out off your ass and you find that fuckin’ dog!” “I think it’s time to play dodgeball.”
“Hey BIlly, who would you rather bone? Meg Ryan or Jack Nicholson?” “Jack Nicholson now, or 1974?” “74.” Billy thinks about it: “Meg Ryan.”
These two movies are super-quotable. Every day there’s something you can reference. Hot day? “It’s too dang hot for a penguin to just be walking around here.” (BM) Hungover? “This morning I shit a squirrel. Literally. The hell of it is, I’ve got a shit covered squirrel down in the office, and don’t know what to name it.” “Champ, I think I ate your chocolate squirrel.” (AM)
Lonely? “I am not lonely. I am beloved by all of San Diego. What’s that? You ate a whole wheel of cheese and shat in the refrigerator? I’m not even angry, I’m impressed.” (AM). Teacher grabs your ear? “I can’t hear you. I been physically abused in the ear. I see your lips moving, but there’s no sound coming out. I’m deaf!” (BM) Falling in love and blab in on the news? “I wanted to shout it from a mountain. But I didn’t have a mountain, I had a newsroom and a camera.” (AM) Or maybe a friend shoots your mortal enemy in the ass? “I’m glad I called that guy.”
Will Ferrell would lay some serious pounding on Adam, if the funniest lines in Anchorman all belonged to him. But, Adam Sandler is almost the only reason to watch Billy Madison. He carries the movie, while Will gets help from Paul Rudd and Steve Carell. I think Carell’s Brick Tamland is the funniest character in the movie, stealing every scene he’s in. And no one steals scenes from Sandler.
Round Seven: a tie. Anchorman is funnier, but Adam puts in a strong performance by himself.
Final Tally: Adam Sandler with a clear victory on points, four rounds to two. Ferrell put up a good fight however, especially in the final rounds. No knockout here, but a respectable battle. If only they’d really go head to head in a movie together. That would be made of AWESOME.
Here is a sample from a story I’m working on that connects to “No Man an Island.”
***
The preacher stepped into a huge pile of shit the moment he entered town. Both literally and figuratively. For one, he put his foot down in a fresh pile of horse droppings as he came off the stagecoach. For another, this was a town where death roamed the streets.
The driver tossed him his bag from the top of the coach and then rode off in a hurry. The preacher didn’t even get a chance to thank him. He stepped out of the dusty main thoroughfare and attempted to rub the manure off his shoes in the dirt at the side of the road. He was standing with his back to the nearest building and the steps up onto the boardwalk that ran the length of the road, so he could watch for any further traffic and surprise-dropping horses. Concentrating on cleaning his shoes, it was no surprise that he was oblivious to the people behind him.
What was a surprise, however, was that the two cowboys physically shouldered past him to reach their horses, tied to a nearby hitching post.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, I beg your pardon. I had no intention of impeding your progress,” he said to them as he regained his balance, attempting to be gracious.
One cowboy had already mounted his horse and was directing it into the road. The second was still releasing his reins from the hitch. They were both trail-worn, and smelled as if their last baths had been in a previous lifetime. The first simply rode off. The second gave the preacher a disdainful smirk.
“Fuck you,” he said, getting up on his mount. He made sure that his steed kicked dust up onto the preacher’s new clothes as he followed his companion out of town.
The preacher gritted his teeth and attempted to brush some of the dirt from his pants and coat. He then went up the splintered wooden steps to the boardwalk and headed for the nearest rickety building. It appeared to be a saloon and stage rest. He went through the swinging doors and then blinked, attempting to adjust his eyes to the dim interior.
Along the left wall was a bar, its uneven plank shelves stocked with various bottles. A door behind the bar led to another part of the building, perhaps a kitchen. The back wall had a weathered piano that was missing three keys. The stairs were along the right wall, leading to the second floor balcony that was overlooking the main floor. This area was furnished with mismatched tables and chairs, all bearing signs of hard use. Splinters, cracks, scratches and chips declared a rough history the way battle scars tell the tales of old veterans.
A lone figure sat at the bar. His tan coloured hat was on the bar on his left, a bottle on his right. He was drinking from a shot glass. With dishevelled, dust coloured hair and three days’ growth of beard, he looked as weather-beaten as his clothes. Only his guns were well maintained, sitting low on his hips. They were well cared for, deadly metal. The owner squinted, staring at the newcomer in the sunny doorway, trying to bring the silhouette into focus.
He saw a young man, perhaps early twenties and certainly no older than twenty-five. His brown hair was cut short, and his black clothes were a little too new to have so much dirt. His shoes weren’t even broken in yet. He looked soft. Why, he didn’t even carry a gun!
“Well come on in and siddown, I’ll buy you a drink. Yer a goner anyway.”
The preacher was taken aback by the lack of respect people in this town had for men of the cloth. But the man’s comment surprised him more.
“A goner?”
“Sure. If the boys in town don’t bury you, the whores will eat you alive. They love ruining pretty young boys.” The grinning gunslinger tilted his glass towards the preacher in salute. “Cheers! Here’s to your health.”
“Thank you, but I don’t drink.” The preacher sat down three stools away, putting his luggage on the floor.
“You’re going to be bored in this town. Ain’t much else to do. Guess you won’t mind the attention from the ladies.”
“Well, I’m not going to be looking for that either.”
“What’s a matter with you, you want to be a priest or something?” The gunman slurred. Then he took a closer look.
“Shit.” He finally noticed the white band around the young man’s neck. “My apologies.” He took another drink, emptying the bottle.
The preacher watched as he dropped it on the floor, where it cracked and rolled to join three others. The labels identified them all as whiskey.
“Isn’t it a little early for that?” He asked.
“Ain’t early if you haven’t been to bed yet.” The other man smirked.
“You’re just going to leave them there?”
“Why not? It’s my bar.” He pushed himself up to his feet and leaned over the bar. He grabbed another bottle and plunked back down.
“I’ll drink for the both of us.” He smiled, pouring two glasses.
“Why not just drink from the bottle?” The preacher suggested. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“Man’s got to remember his manners sometimes, my friend. Otherwise, he forgets he’s a man.” The gunslinger took another drink. “You sure you don’t want to try it?” He offered the other glass.
“I’m fine, though I thank you for the hospitality.” The young man smiled.
“No booze and no women… What the hell are you going to do in this town?”
“I intend to rebuild the church. I was given to understand that it burned down recently.”
“Yes, it did indeed.” The gunslinger glowered, taking another drink.
“Could you direct me towards it?” The preacher asked.
“I could. Not that it will do much good.” He stood up, wobbled, and then headed for the door. “You coming?”
The preacher followed, wondering what he was getting himself into.
Hi. My name is Gavin, and I’m a Star Wars fan.
Okay, maybe it’s not so bad as to be classified as an addiction, I’m certain there are more obsessed fans than me. However, I do love the Force, I hope it is with me. The Empire Strikes Back might be my favourite film of all time. I love the ice planet of Hoth, the swamps of Dagobah, and the creepy mood in Cloud City when Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker finally face off. It’s compelling and dark.
A New Hope and Return of the Jedi both have their moments. The banter between Han and Leia, throughout all three movies, is some of the best dialogue in film history. “You came here in that thing? You’re braver than I thought.” “Sorry, I don’t have time to debate this in committee.” “I am not a committee!” etc. The world is complex, dirty, and teeming with life. The characters are rich: the wisdom of Yoda, the stoicism of Obi-Wan, Luke’s sense of adventure, Han’s search for redemption, Leia’s guts, Chewbacca’s loyalty, the unique friendship and humour of the Droids… The original trilogy dominates my childhood. Heck, I put a “lightsabre”/glowing sword in No Man an Island.
For years, I hailed George Lucas as a genius. It didn’t hurt that I loved Indiana Jones, too. And so, it was with great anticipation that I awaited Episode One: The Phantom Menace, at the close of the 1990s. Nothing but respect.
And then I watched it. Other than Darth Maul, who speaks one line (and he shouldn’t have spoken that much, it would have been 100 times cooler) not one character was interesting, let alone compelling. Jar Jar? Not funny. C-3PO, created by Anakin? Yeah, right. Anakin – played by a cardboard cut-out? Might have been less dry than the child they chose. Obi-Wan – the one possibly cool casting choice? Almost never important to the film. Seventeen minutes of Pod Racing? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Twice that on the DVD? WTF? Aarrrrrrrrrrrgh!!!!
It takes tremendous arrogance, or being replaced by a clone, to think that you can direct a great movie in 1977, and then direct another great movie 20 years later, with new, untested technology, and not direct at all in the interim. That’s demented. And the computer graphics look like computer graphics, no matter how sophisticated they’ve become. None of the gritty realism of the original trilogy.
Oh wait, the idiot remastered the original on DVD using computers — so now everything looks too smooth and glossy and fake. And Han no longer shoots Greedo first, coming across not as a bad-ass you don’t want to cross, but as a slow-gun who got lucky. Lame, lame, lame.
I don’t understand it, except as a failure in script-writing and directing. Liam Neeson – good actor, go see Schindler’s List. Ewan MacGregor: anything he’s in, but see Trainspotting for a breakthrough role. Natalie Portman? Shit, she impressed me as a 12 year old in The Professional. I thought maybe it was Hayden’s fault, but then I saw Life as a House, and he can act. So WTF? “The Attack of the Clones” was lame, and “Revenge of the Sith” handled moments that, in my imagination, are pivotal and amazing, with clumsiness. I could write a better “Anakin becoming Vader” script IN MY SLEEP. I felt like I was watching a sixth grader’s version of Star Wars.
So what happened to George Lucas, great script-writer from Star Wars and Indiana Jones? Did he get abducted by aliens? Replaced by a clone? Did money and technology and thirty years of geeky fans worshipping him give him a god-complex? What happened?
I honestly don’t know. But I do know this: I am really worried that he ruined Indiana Jones the same way, although the preview looks pretty cool. However, if the movie is good, I’m going to give credit to Harrison Ford and Spielberg, because they will have kept Lucas under control. I also know this: should I ever meet George Lucas, I’m going to shake his hand and thank him for six great movies, from 1977 to 1989.
And then I’m going to bitch-slap him upside his head, for the disaster of the prequel trilogy and the remastered DVDs. Just a word of warning George – I love you but I hate you man. Learn to duck.
Rantings of an Arranged Mind 