Review: Star Trek XI
The new "Spock" and the new "Kirk".
Well y’all knew this was coming. Star Trek was a huge influence on my life. I know whenever someone says something like that, the common response is one of pitious disdain. But people need to remember that science fiction was a rarity in the early 70s, and smart entertainment accessible by children rarer still. Even more obscure were role models in such a milieu that were appreciable by ethnicities other than the White North American mainstream.
Star Trek gave us those things, and more. Mr Spock was an immigrant who could not be invisible, living amongst hatred, but valued for his intellect. Captain Kirk was a natural leader who solved problems with his head, heart, fists and penis: an admirable template for the real man, so lacking in the earlyy 21st century.
So you just knew I’d be taking a hard look at the newest incarnation of Trek, this “re-imagined” (I’m so sick of this term) version of the early adventures of Kirk and Spock, this time helmed by TV wunderkind J.J. Abrams.
Be warned: spoilers abound in this review.
I never watched Felicity or Alias. I didn’t much care for Mission Impossible III. I’m really enjoying Lost and Fringe, however. All of these are the products of Abrams’ vaunted creative genius. But given the banality of the new movie (annoyingly simply titled, Star Trek instead of what we all know it to be: Star Trek XI), I fear for the culmination of the storyline for Lost, a show I have long hailed as the finest product of broadcast TV currently available.
I’m not sure where to begin with this review, so forgive me as I jump about rather randomly. Let’s start with the basic declaration: it’s a well produced, adequately acted, fantastic looking and entertaining piece of cinema that will keep you interested throughout it’s 126 minute duration.
Okay? Happy? I’m not saying it’s bad. It’s not bad. It’s actually a good movie. But it ain’t Star Trek. And that has nothing to do with the re-casting of our beloved iconic characters. It has everything to do with the movie not having a point.
In Star Trek I: The Motion Picture, we had an awesome display of science fiction, as the Enterprise must confront a planet-engulfing cloud that turns out to be an evolved version of a NASA probe. There is a subtext of aging, of Kirk unwilling to let go of his command, and of the moral repercussions of scattering probes willy nilly.
The true Trek masterpiece, The Wrath of Khan, was about Kirk’s inability to come to terms with his failing youth and virility, and about the “no win scenario”. A magnificent villain, a smarmy son and a sacrificing best friend are all foils against which Kirk explores this personal dilemma.
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock was about sacrifice. What are you willing to give up to save something you love? For Kirk to save Spock, he sacrificed his career, his son and his ship. And in the end, the Spock that was returned to him was a shadow of his former self. It was darkly hopeful yet bittersweet.
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home is the one most of the general public seems to enjoy. I think it’s one of the weakest. It’s about taking responsibility for environmental damage. Hamfistedly done, I say.
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier…. um, let’s not talk about this one.
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country was the swan song of the original crew. A simple tale about the assassination of the Klingon chancellor is really an opportunity for Kirk to be examined for his lifetime of transgressions and rule bending. It even, for the first time, made Kirk accountable for his racism against the Klingon people. Shatner, a man of unending energy, played this brilliantly, with a very sad look of fatigue and guilt plastered on his face the entire time.
Star Trek VII: Generations is actually one of my favourite films of the franchise, though it’s roundly hated by most. A low budget tale, hastily thrown together, that is supposed to be the “passing of the torch” from the Kirk gang to the Picard gang, this movie is truly about choices and –again– sacrifices. Picard sacrifices a life with family for a life of adventure, losing the former most horribly and completely. Kirk sacrifices his life to save a ship. Then again he must sacrifice his perfect afterlife to save some more people. Both captains are shown to be lonely men who must always do the right thing, forever denied a touch of the human happiness to which the rest of us can at least aspire. This movie is historic, of course, for Kirk’s death which, while angering at first, sits better with me at each reviewing. This is because Kirk’s death should be pointless and lonely, much like pretty much everyone’s death. And thats what we get: a great man who always embraced the philsophy that there does not exist a “no win scenario” nonetheless loses in the end, rather anticlimactically. It’s poetic and, if viewed with all sensors at full sensitivity, has a lasting effect.
Star TrekVIII, IX and X were all flaccid outings by the Next Generation crew. (Well, VIII was pretty good). So we won’t talk about those. But I hope you see what the undercurrent has been throughout all the films: an exploration of priorities, sacrifice and the personal journey of heroism.
That brings us to Star Trek XI, which will no doubt re-ignite the franchise, bringing a whole new generation into the fold, including millions of people who care little for the history and philosophy of the original Trek.
Here’s my problem with the new film: it doesn’t need to be Star Trek. It could be anhy unnamed, generic space opera. Good looking people get into shiny ships and blow the frakk out of each other. Some one-liners pop up, as do some perky boobs, and there you have your MTV generation readily sold. Why co-opt the legendary name of Trek to make this pablum?
J.J. Abrams was famously never a Star Trek fan. He has always admitted to being a Star Wars man, and by golly does it show.
In 6 Things That Suck About The New Star Trek Movie, Michael Dance puts it this way:
“In this Star Trek movie, Kirk is basically Luke Skywalker with the charm of Han Solo. He’s a troubled young farm boy who leaves home at the urging of a wise older man who claims he knew the farm boy’s father. Sound familiar? How about the early cantina scene featuring a wacky-looking alien and a bar fight? Or the scene near the end when one character announces the humorously low odds of a plan’s success? Or the scene where the bad guys blow a planet up? C’mon now.”
Star Wars, while fun, is mindless fantasy. Trek has always been mindful science fiction. As Roger Ebert puts it in his review of the film, “..the movie raises its yo-yo finger to the science, while embracing the fiction.” The only wonder and awe are courtesy of the neato-whiz-bang CGI effects, and not of any interesting plot twists, character moments or profound revelations. (Compare that to Star Trek I, where there is awe aplenty: at Spock’s turmoil, at the majesty of the innards of V’Ger, at V’Ger’s origins and at Persis Khambatta’s shiny skull.) I for one would happily give up all of the impressive space battles for a storyline that both intrigued and touched me. Clearly, though, I’m in the minority of movie-goers.
Plot holes abound. But that’s okay; it’s to be expected. But about that plot….
The plot is… well… it’s a plot. Here it is. (Remember, spoilers abound). The old Spock, the one we know and love, is trying to save Romulus in the future. He fails and ends up going through a black hole into the past, followed by an angry Romulan miner who wants to kill him. Said miner arrives just in time to kill James Kirk’s father as Kirk himself is being born. This sets in place a series of time-altering events, which include: Kirk being a bad boy who joins the Federation reluctantly; Spock being Uhura’s teacher and lover; the planet Vulcan being destroyed and its race rendered all but extinct; Kirk promoted from stowaway to first officer, then from cadet to Captain (seriously, WTF?); etc.
So, this is –and never will be– the Trek the rest of us know and love. It’s an alternate timeline. The timeline of the original Trek, the Next Generation, Voyager, DS9 and all the movies that have come before have been erased. They will never happen. This is not the same as an alternate universe, which coexists with the prime universe and that we can access. The positing of an altered timeline is that the other stuff never happened and never will happen. So if any attempt were ever made to access that original timeline in, say, a new TV show or movie, it would feel really quite stupid.
Yes, it’s just a movie. Yes, it’s a clever plot twist to allow the franchise to be rebooted without having to adhere to any pre-existing canon. But is this not offensive? For those of us who loved the legacy of this franchise, who found meaning in some of the stories and who appreciated that an entire expanded universe of 10 movies, six TV series (including the animated one) and a quadrillion books were cleverly folded into a set of established events and canon, this is a bit of a slap in the face.
It also means that the only TV show that still fits into the established canon is the atrocious Star Trek: Enterprise, the crappiest of the lot, and probably J.J. Abrams’s favourite.
So given that the new brash, modern and seemingly anti-cerebral James Kirk will not become the brilliant and smarmy tactician we came to love; and given that Spock will not become the tortured but dignified soul struggling to find a place between his two homes; and given that none of the other characters will become those things we love them for…. why bother having those characters in the first place? Why not re-boot the franchise with a fresh set of characters unencumbered by history and expectations?
The answer obviously is that these characters have name brand recognition and can sell movie seats.
This seems like a piss poor reason to ass rape one of the Western world’s popular culture treasures. I do not approve.
Review: Wolverine & The X-Men, Season 1
Television cartoons are a funny business. Most people still think of them as children’s fare. When the topic of such cartoons is a team of superheroes, the threat of juvenility rises considerably. Somehow, Marvel’s X-Men has always managed to sustain a high level of both adult characterization and storytelling in all three of its TV incarnations.
Other superhero teams have not fared so well. The Avengers were juvenile crap. The Superfriends and their various sequels were beloved in the 1970s and early 80s, but frankly were warmed over pablum directed at idiot pre-teens. The era of the cartoon based on toys and video games, which began in the late 1980s and saw such classic shows as Transformers and G.I. Joe ended up birthing interesting mythologies which were explored in other media, like manga, mostly in Japan. But their original TV versions were just extended commercials for the toys.
In recent years, DC stepped up their game with a series of excellent adult superhero offerings. They began with Batman: The Animated Series, a game-changing show that proved that an angsty, adult motion picture feel could be translated into animated half hour episodes on Saturday morning TV. That show spawned Batman Begins, a less cerebral, but no less adult version of the iconic Batman, set in Bruce Wayne’s golden years.
DC followed up their Batman successes with a new Superman cartoon which mimicked the Dark Knight’s serious reflections. And then the two heroes made the inevitable evolution into Justice League and Justice League Unlimited, two outstanding adult superhero cartoons that are still re-watchable many years later.
But Marvel’s X-Men stands alone as the sole classic superhero source that has never been reduced to kiddish pablum. Beginning with their 1980s version, X-Men: The Animated Series, the team of mutants experienced adventures that were grim and serious, exploring their metaphors for actual social marginalizing forms, such as homosexuality and ethnic isolation.
In the late 90s, X-Men: Evolution re-wrote the characters into high school, and threatened to dumb it down a shade. Thankfully, the innate depth of the X-Men motif prevented that from happening, and a fascinating story arc managed to keep viewers enthralled as the youthful mutants grew through their adolescent angsts.
With the success of the three live action X-Men movies, and the imminent launch of the first stand-alone Wolverine movie, there was a desire to re-launch an animated X-Men, this time placing Wolverine at its centre. Thus, Wolvering & The X-Men was born.
Many purists were afraid that elevating Wolverine, the grisly and gruff loner, to the position of team leader would ruin the motif. In the movies, he’s been redrawn as an attractive and romantic leading man, and it seems the new show would take a similar route.
However, I’m pleased to report that the new show gives nothing up with this development. With season #1 now broadcast, it is clear that this is a well thought out show, respectful of its source material. Like all the best superhero and science fiction literature and media, the show bases everything on characterization first. Everyone acts from a motivation, and the story arc is pushed ahead through believable character responses.
Wolverine himself is gruff and grisly again, but now tall and charming like in the movies. Nightcrawler is gallant and brave, not awkward and pathetic. Cyclops is tortured and guilty, not a cookie cutter boyscout. Magneto, perhaps the finest villain in all of comicbookdom, maintains his complexity as passionate leader, doting father, dear friend and psychopathic terrorist.
Most interesting of all, though, has been the show’s treatment of lesser known mutant Emma Frost. She’s a character known to the fans of the comic books, but not to those who only know the X-Men through the movies and TV shows. Her mystery is used to great effect as her agenda is revealed slowly and with a wonderful climax.
The brilliance of this show is in the seriousness with which it treats its stories, the love with which it handles its iconic characters, and the respect it shows its fans. No origins are shown; the action starts from the first moment. The show assumes that the viewer already knows who the characters are and why they do what they do. There is no pandering to the naive, as is expected in a movie.
And the way in which the season’s story arc unfolds is quite clever. For the season’s duration, Charles Xavier in a coma, to awaken 20 years later in a post-Apocalyptic hell. He manages to communicate psychically with Wolverine in the past. Together, the two try to prevent the carnage that Xavier experiences firsthand in the future. To tell a season-long story on two fronts, one in the present and one in the future, with an underlying mystery to be solved (how did Xavier end up in the coma in the first place?) is sheer storytelling inspiration.
I highly recommend season #1 of Wolverine & The X-Men, and can’t wait till season #2 starts in a few months.
The Best TV Series Finales
It’s a great time to be a fan of TV science fiction. Easily, the two finest dramas on American television are Lost and the rebooted Battlestar Galactica, both so-called “genre” shows, which means that they are best enjoyed by science fiction fans.
Galactica, a preternatural philosophical powerhouse of a show is nearly done. As I write this, a mere three episodes remain, at the end of which all of the show’s intriguing questions are supposed to be answered. Lost, meanwhile, has another season or two to go, I believe, but is also well over half over.
This got me thinking about finales. In particular, what are the finest series finales in the history of televised English-language science fiction?
First, a word about terminology. In Britain, a “series” is what we in North America call a “season”. Our “series” refers to the full run of the TV show, throughout all its seasons. I am using the American terminology. By series finale, I mean the last episode of that show that was ever shown.
Here is my list of the top five best television SF series finales. Be warned that this list is ridden with spoilers:
5. Blake’s Seven
The Blake's 7 crew, taken from crepehanger.com
Pretty much unknown to North American viewers, Blake’s 7 was one of Britain’s finest skiffy offerings. Airing in the magnificent 1970s, it told the tale of average citizen Roj Blake, who found himself caught up in a rebellion against the evil galactic federation and falsely accused of paedophilia. Blake gathers a team of compatriots who chance upon an advanced alien spaceship, and commences a series of adventures that sees them edge closer to finding a way to bring down the federation, all the while bickering amongst themselves the way that only Brits know how to do.
Blake himself departed the show after only 2 seasons, but the adventure continued for a total of four legendary years. The brilliance of its finale saw the return of Blake in a promise of impending and unexpected triumph for the surviving team members…. all dashed in a moment of distrust that resulted in all the members murdered by the evil federation. The bad guys win, and no one saw it coming, even in this darkest of dark shows.
4. Quantum Leap
The boys from Quantum Leap, taken from avanttrash.com
QL employed a very simple plot: Dr Samuel Beckett is “leaping” across the years of his lifespan, inhabiting or possessing the bodies of seemingly random individuals in the process. With him is a holographic projection of his friend Al Calavicci, who informs him at every leap about his mission, usually involving the “setting right” of the inhabited body’s life.
The show began as light, comedic drama with both a skiffy and quasi-religious twist. But its finale was unexpectedly a profound tear jerker. In it, Sam leaps into a paranormal bar where everyone appears to be “leaping”. The bartender is a godlike figure who informs Sam that he will never stop leaping, and that the missions will only get more difficult. It is never said outright, but I think a suggestion is made that Sam is actually an angelic figure of some sort.
In Sam’s last mission shown, he leaps back into the life of his friend Al and fixes his failed marriage. The final text shown before the credits rolled: “Dr. Samuel Beckett never returned home.” A very sad ending for an otherwise uplifting show.
3. Classic Battlestar Galactica / Galactica 1980
Adama addresses Dr Zee and others in the craptastic Galactica 1980. Taken from galacticabbs.com
Including this steaming turd of a show may shock some people. Yes, the original BSG was third rate shlock at best, which nonetheless captured the imagination of a skiffy-starved generation. Its atrocious follow-up, the impoverised Galatica 1980 was an insult to anyone who gave this show a lingering chance. It really is a wonder that the series’ “re-imagining” managed to render one of the finest dramatic TV shows in history, the current BSG incarnation.
Nevertheless, the final episode of Galactica 1980 (and therefore of the original BSG) was a little something called “The Return of Starbuck.” In it, Dirk Benedict’s original version of the gun-slinging, cigar-smoking fighter pilot crashes on a desert planet and is all alone with a crashed Cylon ship filled with three broken Cylons.
A space age Robinson Crusoe, he reassembles one of the robots to be his companion, and sets out to build an escape ship to rejoin the Galactica. Then, weirdly, a mysterious pregnant woman arrives and convinces Starbuck that he must protect her and “his” child. Evil Cylons arrive, there’s a fight, Starbuck’s robot companion is seemingly destroyed, Starbuck himself appears to suffer a very serious –probably fatal– wound, and the woman escapes in his makeshift pod and manages to find the Galactica. But she is not in it when the ship is opened; only her child is. The grows to become “Dr Zee”, the creepy genius child who would lead the Galactica to Earth, and who narrates the opening segments of this episode.
2. Star Trek: The Next Generation
Captain Picard tells us what he really thinks. Taken from toplessrobot.com
No one is going to argue that TNG is one of the best TV skiffy shows ever produced. Finally, Gene Roddenberry had the time and money to do Star Trek the way he’d always wanted. Its finale, “All Good Things“, is considered by some to be one of the best of a series of excellent shows. Entertainment Weekly listed it as #5 in the show’s top 10 episodes.
I almost ranked “All Good Things” as #1 in this list for one reason alone: unlike other finales, this one didn’t try too hard to be grand. It remained, at its core, a good TNG episode. We can watch it in reruns and appreciate the sadness of its finality, but also enjoy it as a stand-alone episode, something that can’t be said for the #1 entry in this list.
“All Good Things” tells of Captain Picard’s consciousness jumping across three temporal states: the present, the past (to the first episode of the series) and a couple of decades into the future. Throughout it all, his persistent omnipotent guide Q is there, this time with a seriousness we’d not come to expect. Q’s gravitas is what makes this episode important. His attitude suggests that consequences await the Enterprise’s crew as a result of any actions they may or may not take.
The show’s final moments are bittersweet, as Captain Picard joins his officers for a poker game for the very first time, and regrets not having done so before. It shows us that though we will not see the crew again on TV, they have nonetheless grown closer together, and have many more adventures to which to look forward.
1. Babylon 5
Babylon 5, taken from onedigitallife.com
B5 is one of the most important skiffy TV shows in history. It was the first to challenge Star Trek for its TV throne, and its brazenness opened the door for a host of other science fiction offerings on the little screen. It was also the very first show in which an entire season of episodes was written by the same person, creator J. Michael Straczynski (JMS), and one of the first shows to be entirely arc-driven. That is, every episode was a chapter in a TV novel that would last 5 years, no more.
Today, arc shows are the norm. Lost, BSG and pretty much every top drama on TV eschew the standalone episode model. But B5 was the first to embrace the arc wholeheartedly.
Yes, its acting was atrocious at times, the dialogue ridiculously space-opera-ish, and some of the technobabble and special effects laughable. But the core story was intriguing, and its heart undeniable.
The final episode, the sublime “Sleeping In Light“, was written and filmed a full year before it was aired, because it was uncertain whether the show would be granted its 5th and final season; so the finale had to be ready to go, just in case.
Nominated for science fiction’s highest honour, the Hugo Award, “Sleeping In Light” takes place 20 years after the events of B5. All the battles have been fought and won, and all the characters have moved on to live new lives. But a lingering truth from the series was left unexplored: that the protagonist, John Sheridan, had agreed to reduce his remaining lifespan to 20 years in exchange for time to fight the war that served as B5’s centrepiece.
“Sleeping In Light” is about the final day of John Sheridan’s life, of how he says goodbye to his world, and how his friends deal with his death. It’s a tearjerker, no matter how many times you watch it, made more so by the moving musical score, and the linking of Sheridan’s mysterious demise with the decommissioning of the Babylon station that gave the show its name.
It is clear that this finale was envisioned years in advance. As JMS himself stated about the episode, ” I always have the ending before I begin writing the beginning.”
Do you have other ideas of what constitutes a good finale? Please leave them in the comments below.
The Last Cylon
This article was originally a blog post on Deonandan.com
Obama about to take office, war in the Gaza strip, Russia freezing out Ukraine, enormous military movements in Sri Lanka, the world economy tanking…. so what will I blog about? Well, Battlestar Galactia, of course.
I have long held that the reborn (or “re-imagined”, as the Powers like to say) series is the single finest current television show in the world. I am not alone in this assessment (see here, here and here.) Few other mainstream entertainment products offer such dark assessments of the human soul, drawing fairly obvious analogies to modern American military policy, primarily the “war on terror”. It takes courage to present a universe that clearly mirrors our own, North American world, but in which the polytheists are the ostensible good guys and monotheists the bad guys. It takes further courage to miraculously get us to sympathize with the mass-murdering, robotic bad guys– and yet somehow the show manages to do this.
There are many ripe philosophical fruits to be plucked and devoured in this show. Among my favourites is the anti-heroic path of Dr. Gaius Baltar. He is demonized as a villain for having made some selfish, but very human, self-serving decisions. But if we are honest with ourselves we recognize in Baltar (in all but his genius intellect and creepy narcissism) the truth of our existence. He, unlike other impossibly and predictably heroic members of a typical TV show, behaves pretty much how a normal human being would behave, given the truly extraordinary circumstances in which he finds himself.
Baltars quest for redemption underlies, for me, the lesson of the show: that everybody is both good and evil, that everyone both deserves life and deserves death, and that only the honest among us can embrace this truth and thus seek justification for our continued existence. Dark? Of course; it’s Battlestar Galactica.
The other, more accessible philosophical plumb presented by the show is the number of models of “skin jobs”, or human-form Cylons. There are exactly 12 of them. Why? It is never expressed explicitly, but the implication is that the race of mechanic Cylons took a good, long look at humanity and saw only twelve of us. There are only 12 archetypal human beings, so simple are our motivations, so predictable our behaviours and responses.
Others have discussed this aspect of the show’s mythology. The show’s producers have encouraged this discussion, and most have landed upon a summary of the archetypes, as summarized well by a poster on nightly.net:
The innocent
The regular guy
The warrior
The caregiver
The explorer
The destroyer
The lover
The creator
The ruler
The magician
The sage
The jester
Now, as fans of the show know, while there are 12 archetypes, there are only 11 Cylon models so far identified. The lasting mystery is, of course, the identity of the final Cylon. As shown in the image below, Cylon D’Anna glimpsed the faces of the Final Five Cylons, four of whom are now known to us as occupants of the Colonial fleet.
The producers have fed the speculation, most famously by issuing the following manipulated photo, based on “The Last Supper”, with the message that none of the characters portrayed is in fact the Final Cylon:
A series of snippets were also released by the producers on a website called YouWillKnowTheTruth.com, that further fed speculation and planted clues (or, more likely, misdirections). A summary of those clues is given here.
For a lot of reasons, I believe the identity of the Final Cylon boils down to two candidates: Felix Gaeta and Anastasia Dualla.
Now, I know that I have discussed this several times in the past. And I have linked to at least one thorough analysis of the clues. But I love a good mystery. I am so satisfied that the Final Cylon is one of these two individuals that I’m even willing to put money on it.
Part of the charm of the mystery is the bizarre, almost secretive, evolution of Felix Gaeta. If you’re a fan of the show, I doubt you will ever be able to forget the haunting, creepy yet beautiful song sung by Gaeta as his leg was amputated. The composer of the song talked about it on his blog, and called it both “Gaeta’s Lament” and “The Stump Serenade”. Much analysis has surrounded the eerie song, as it supposedly contains clues to the identity of the Final Cylon, to whom God (or the gods, depending on which of the show’s faiths you subscribe to) has bestowed a special fate relating to the dispositions of both races, the humans and the Cylons.
This post has, for my money, one of the more intriguing analyses, specifically that Gaeta’s secret is his transsexualism. The theory has some appeal to me, since the nature of the hidden Cylon(s) has been something of a bridging of gaps or paradigms. Much the same way that the “skin jobs” cross the divide between men and machine, a transsexual Cylonic Gaeta would cross the divide between male and female.
Then again, for all I know, the Final Cylon is the dead cat formerly owned by Apollo’s lawyer buddy. It’s just a TV show, after all. The identity of the Final Cylon will be revealed to all in a matter of weeks.
The New Doctor Who
The following is reproduced from a blog post at Deonandan.com
We fans of the iconic Dr Who were saddened when Christopher Eccleston stepped down from the lead role in the revivified series almost four years ago. Many were disappointed when floppy-haired David Tennant stepped into Eccleston’s veteran, steeled void and re-imagined “the Doctor” as a foppish but likable hipster, eschewing his predecessor’s German submarine commander look. But Tennant grew to own the role, and I am surprised to hear myself voicing the opinion that he has been the best Doctor ever. That’s right, even better than Tom Baker and John Pertwee.
Mind you, Baker and Pertwee never benefited from the enormous budget of the new series, nor from the more thoughtful and adult-oriented writing. Nonetheless, Tenant has come to personify for an entirely new generation the physical incarnation of the most important science fiction character in British history –perhaps in television history overall.
So we were saddened again to hear that David Tennant would be stepping down some time in 2009, after a mere four performances, to make way for yet another actor to play the mighty Doctor, genius Lord of Time who vanquishes foes and defends the weak without ever taking a life or even striking a blow. Note that the evolution of Doctor Who was listed in Skiffy’s top 2008 stories in science fiction.
Speculation was rampant in the British press about who the new actor would be. Perhaps a woman this time? Some even suggested Catherine Zeta Jones! But I was more excited by the prospect of Black actor Paterson Joseph. There is, in my belief, something innately masculine about the Doctor character, but not necessarily something innately caucasian. (Especially in the recent seasons, the Doctor’s sexual tension with his female companions –notwithstanding Captain Jack’s omnisexuality– sort of compels the Time Lord to remain male, at least so long as the various nubile female companions remain in the present literary universe; otherwise their quite touching “lost romance” vibes would be overshadowed by the lesbian overtones. )
This is Paterson Joseph:
Woman or non-White man, it would have been interesting to see the Doctor blend into scenarios throughout Earth’s history. A Black Doctor materializing during the European slave trade? A female Doctor appearing in an orthodox Muslim community? The possibilities are intriguing.
But the BBC woosed out on us. It was leaked today that the new Doctor Who will be…. Matt Smith. This is 26 year old Matt Smith:
Now, I am certain that Mr Smith is an excellent actor. (The irony here is that The Doctor often goes by the monicker, “Mr Smith”). My objection, beyond the disappointment of not seeing a woman or a Black man, is that Smith is young. Tenant was on the verge of looking too young for a world-weary 900 year old alien who’d seen it all, and he was in his late 30s when he started the role! I really dislike this trend of casting younger and younger actors to play roles of great gravitas.
Plus, as one commenter put it, he looks like the singer of a pointless emo band.
Well, the Who team gave us two excellent initial choices in Eccleston and Tennant. So I’ll give this fellow a chance. But, David Tennant…. why? Why did you leave us? WHY?
2008 Science Fiction Year in Review
It’s 10pm Dec 31st, 2008, and I’m a little tipsy on a shot of whiskey, but stuck in bed, sick with a tummy ache. Since I’m not able to attend any New Years Eve parties, why not invest a moment in reflecting on the past year in science fiction?
The following list of events is not exhaustive and is based only on what’s at the forefront of my thoughts at this particular moment. If you have any additions to make to my list, please feel free to add them in the comments section.
Books
The single biggest news in the world of science fiction books was death of the final old school Grand Master of SF, Sir Arthur C. Clarke. Along with Asimov and Heinlein, Clarke was one of the pioneers of skiffy in the so-called golden age of the 1950s. Clarke was not just a leader in this genre, but also a societal thought leader. He is credited by many as the philosophical inventor of the communications satellite, and certainly was a driving inspiration in the development of Project Spaceguard, a programme for the detection of near-Earth asteroids that could prove possibly dangerous to our planet.
Clarke’s biggest contribution to popular culture was, of course, his penning of the screenplay for the movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey, which was in turn based on his short story, “The Sentinel.”
Clarke’s additional masterpieces included Rendezvous With Rama and the various sequels to 2001. I was particularly pleased that Clarke was able to give us a trilogy of so-called “orthoquels” to 2001 before he died: Time’s Eye, Sunstorm and Firstborn, all part of a series he called “A Time Odyssey.”
Sunstorm in particular was a fitting conclusion to Clarke’s career, as it told a very exciting and believable –and inspirational– tale of mankind preparing itself for a storm of Apocalyptic solar flares.
My personal Clarke favourite remains Songs of Distant Earth. I recommend that all true skiffy fans find a moment to peruse it spages.
Movies
It was not a particularly exciting year for skiffy in movies. No, I do not include The Dark Knight as a science fiction title, though the audiences for both comic books and science fiction products often overlap. Thus, Ironman also does not qualify.
Possibly the best skiffy title this year was Hellboy II: The Golden Army. I’m hesitant to include it, since it’s more fantasy than science fiction
While I hated the movie, I must admit that the latest M. Night Shyamalan, The Happening, presented an interesting science fiction premise: that plants could be made so “upset” by ecological degradation that they would emit a substance that reduces animals’ inhibition against self-harm.
Television
It was in television that the skiffy genre really flew this year. I am a fan of Heroes, but its science is laughable. Lost, the finest show on network American television, finally revealed itself to be a pure science fiction show with the addition of time travel. And the champion of the space operas continued to be Battlestar Galactica, whose climax this coming year will be the reveal of the so-called “final cylon.” I’m willing to put money on that cylon being Felix Gaeta.
Other big news included the cancellation of Stargate: Atlantis and the successful transfer of Stargate:SG1 from TV to dvd movies. But the big triumph in TV skiffy this year was the further maturation of the modern incarnation of Britain’s Doctor Who.
David Tennant is, for my money, the finest Doctor ever. Yes, the show is still cheesy at times, and doesn’t engender the same gravitas as American offerings of the same genre. But remember that the Doctor saves the galaxy every week without ever wielding a weapon or uttering a foul word; he’s a timeless hero.
The brilliance of the Who writing this year was in the realization that the show is called Doctor WHO. Who is this man? Why do we care? Transforming the decades old vehicle from a campy kids show into a character drama was brilliance.
I don’t know what to expect from 2009, but I’m pretty sure there will be plenty of skiffy for us all.
The Andromeda Strain (Part 1)
The Andromeda Strain (2008)
Released as a miniseries by A&E in the spring of 2008, The Andromeda Strain is based on Michael Crichton’s classic 1969 science fiction novel of the same name. TAS-08 is written by Robert Schenkken (who played David Deaver in the 1990 film Pump up the Volume), and is directed by Denmark’s Mikael Salomon, more famously known as the cinematographer on several Oscar winning films (Far and Away, Back Draft, Arachnophobia).
The narrative opens with a botched recovery of a NASA satellite that has unexpectedly fallen from orbit and crashed to earth near Piedmont, Utah in the present day United States. Curious Piedmontians discover the satellite before the arrival of a US Army recovery team and decide to look inside; releasing a toxin of unknown origin on unsuspecting townsfolk. While moving quickly to quarantine Piedmont, the Department of BioDefence scrambles Wildfire – an elite team of scientists providing the evidence in The President’s evidence-based decisions on biological crises (talk about your science fiction…). Operating under the indirect supervision of General George W. Mancheck (Andre Braugher); Dr. Jeremy Stone (Benjamin Bratt), Dr. Angela Noyce (Christa Miller), Dr. Tsi Chou (Daniel Dae Kim), Dr. Charlene Barton (Viola Davis) and Major Bill Keane MD (Rick Schroder) retrieve data from the contaminated area and are seconded to a top secret, underground government laboratory. On the outside, all this secret/not-so-secret activity draws the attention of journalist Jack Nash (Eric McCormack) who tries to figure out what is really going on.
As the first of a two disk release, disk one is almost completely context; introducing characters, new technology, and describing the cultural and political environment the plot unfolds in. The story is portrayed using five different perspectives – the scientific team sequestered in the underground lab, the decision-maker president and his white house staff who while being decisive have to run everything through the “how-will-this-play-out-in-the-election” filter, the US Army, the ultra-secretive National Security Agency (NSA), and (of course) the media.
Schenkken taps into real world events and popular culture by drawing repeatedly from the endless list of individual and institutional failures that lead to the war in Iraq – primarily the dysfunction surrounding the US Military, intelligence agencies and the Oval Office – with a sideways reference to rogue nations, economic greed, the environment and “Area-51.” All of this is presented through the use of short vignettes that introduce characters, outline personal relationships and establish institutional dynamics; effectively creating a patchwork of information that may or may not allow the viewer to grasp what is going on.
Some of the reviews I have read have been critical of the cast, the story and the interpretation of the novel. As I am reviewing this in a bubble so to speak – having not seen the first theatrical release, nor having read the book – I’m inclined to disagree with this criticism in a state of blissful ignorance. The cast comes across as reasonably real – I found the performances to be authentic. No one steals the show, and at no point did any of the actors’ performances remind me of a previous role.
The story has a very current feel to it – contentious ideologies, hot-button issues, public cynicism for those in charge. At its heart is the portrayal of competing bureaucratic entities in the face of a serious crisis – can these bodies be trusted to set aside their partisan nature when decisions need to be made; or will they be constantly distracted from the real issues while playing an obtuse game of perception manipulation?
Technically, the special effects are well done and used relatively sparingly. I did find the medical computer in the Wildfire lab to be a little far-fetched for a story that is supposed to be contemporary. I’m all for voice-directed, diagnostic tools that can provide real-time patient data (right down to hematology results) in addition to performing all kinds of medical tests at the verbal request of a doctor – I’m just not sure if it exists yet!
One thing I wished the writers had done is explain the animosity between some of the main characters. This history is referred to abstractly in dialogue, but has an impact on the plot development. Perhaps more will be revealed in part 2.
Taking part one of The Andromeda Strain at face value, and not comparing it to the original or other interpretations – I recommend it. Nothing exists in a vacuum however, so once having seen part 2, reading Crichton’s original and checking out the 1971 movie this opinion could change.
Review: Charlie Jade
The idea of parallel universes is well explored in TV science fiction. Classic Star Trek had the memorable “evil empire” episode with a bearded Spock from the alternate universe. America’s longest running SF show, Stargate SG1 and its spinoff Stargate Atlantis have both plumbed the idea far too many times in far too many versions. And the show Sliders featured the “multiverse” as its core narrative, with its heroes “sliding” from universe to universe every week.
But it’s the joint Canadian-South African production, Charlie Jade, that finally brings this concept to a gritty, realistic level, without the comfortable technobabble and easy resolutions of more family-friendly shows. In the Charlie Jade narrative, there are three main parallel universes: the “Alphaverse”, which is a technologically advanced, but horrendously polluted, violent, fascistic and unpleasant world with a brutal caste system that relegates its lowest denizens to near slave status; the “Betaverse”, which is essentially our universe; and the “Gammaverse” which is comparatively paradisical, where humans have managed our natural resources and social structures responsibly.
Transcending the various ‘Verses is the Vexcor corporation, which exists in various strengths in all three worlds, and has somehow managed to organize across all three, even creating a machine that might be able to transport matter across universes. The motivation of Vexcor is unknown, but a suggestion is made that the transportation of resources from the Gammaverse to the Alphaverse may be a part of their plan.
The scion of Vexcor is “0-1″ (not “Owen”) Boxer, an amoral sociopath who uniquely possesses the ability to unilaterally walk between worlds, a skill that makes him indispensable to the wary and distrusting Vexcor executives, who would just as soon keep 0-1 working in the mailroom. As the story begins, 0-1 Boxer has drugged and raped a woman from Capteown, South Africa, in the Betaverse (our world), and has transported and murdered her in the Alphaverse, where our protagonist, private detective Charlie Jade, reluctantly takes up her cause. His investigation causes him to follow Boxer, and he suddenly and mysteriously finds himself trapped in the Betaverse.
Charlie Jade is unsure of what he witnesses upon arrival in our world, but it appears as if Reena, a terrorist from the Gammaverse, destroys the Vexcor facility, and finds herself also trapped in our world. Back in the Alphaverse, a B-plot has Charlie’s girlfriend/slave (her status is left intentionally blurry) left without his protection, and subject to the torments of her society.
Charlie Jade is a standard, almost cliched two-fisted hero, ruggedly handsome and improbably brave and capable. The terrorist Reena is a figure who inspires much empathy, trapped like Jade, but hunted by the authorities and less capable of finding her footing in a strange new world that both terrifies and horrifies her.
But the real star of Charlie Jade is the city of Capetown. Science fiction fans are used to cityscapes of New York, London, Los Angeles, San Francisco or anonymous US cities based on those familiar archetypes. Charlie Jade shows us an unfiltered, modern South African city, complete with its racial tensions, its crime, militancy, ugliness and occasionally its staggering beauty. A favourite vista of mine is the wide shot across the city, complete with its otherworldly cliffs and mountains.
The idea of a multiverse is introduced subtly, and we learn of it at pretty much the same pace as its heroes do. Unlike more formulaic shows, like later incarnations of Star Trek, this show knows better than to dazzle us with fake science that would ultimately innoculate us against the more organic perils of its characters. Instead, it recognizes that its narrative strength is in its politics, crustiness and criminality, and in the sympathy we must feel for characters trapped in nightmarish situations which, while clearly science-fictional, are presented in a realistic enough way to feel strangely plausible.
I’m five episodes into the show’s 21 episode run. I am pleased to recommend this very smart, very gritty show to those of you thirsty for smart, realistic science fiction.
Review: Odyssey 5
Let’s say you and four associates knew that the world would end in five years. You don’t know how, or by whom; and you’re pretty sure no one would believe you if you told them. What do you do? What stresses must you undergo and persevere in your quest? This is the underlying premise of Odyssey 5, one of the smartest, most overlooked science fiction TV shows of the past 20 years.
A Canadian show starring genre gadabout Peter Weller, Odyssey 5 was the brainchild of Manny Coto, known to most as the man who rescued the final season of the atrocious Star Trek: Enterprise, finally making that particular nightmare watchable.
Odyssey 5 is the story of the five astronauts aboard the space shuttle Odyssey: commander Chuck Taggart (Weller), his son Neil (Christopher Gorham), genius asshole Kurt Mendel (Sebastian Roche), journalist Sarah Forbes (Leslie Silva), and shuttle pilot Angela Perry (Tamara Craig Thomas). While in orbit, they literally witness the destruction of the Earth. They are then contacted by an enigmatic alien intelligence who informs them that the same thing has befallen other worlds, and that they will be sent back in time 5 years in order to investigate and prevent the cataclysm. The catch is that, while they will retain their future memories, they will exist in the bodies and situations of their earlier selves.
This brilliant premise creates instant conflict and tension. Sarah Forbes’s infant son had died 5 years ago and she was in a different marriage. Neil Taggart, now a young astronaut, was then a high school student, and suddenly finds himself one again, complete with his teenage girlfriend, her childish woes and their sexual crises. As this is an adult film shown on the cable network Showtime, profane language and extreme adult situations abound.
It’s a minor spoiler that the destruction of the Earth has to do with artificial and web-based intelligences. This may sound hokey and cliche, but it’s actually done with a sense of sober maturity that brings a welcome gravity to the narrative. The seriousness, offset by a wonderful light direction, is made moreso by the recurring theme that the 5 heroes have no idea what they are doing, and may in fact be accelerating the timetable to the Earth’s destruction.
The strength of Odyssey 5, though, is in its consistent, realistic characterizations, brought to life through some excellent acting, primarily by Weller himself. There’s a particular scene that I can’ seem to forget, wherein Weller takes a pompous barista to task for calling his “large” coffee a “grande”.
It’s a mystery to me why Odyssey 5 was not picked up for a second season. This is a smart, adult, science fiction series that would be eagerly consumed by any thinking genre fan. There are rumours that Coto wishes to re-do or finish off the series in a new format, perhaps web-based. Until then, I heartily recommend that you rent or buy Odyssey 5.
Review: Stargate Continuum
The following is a review of the direct-to-dvd movie, Stargate: Continuum. Beware that spoilers abound!
I am an unabashed fan of all things Stargate. This site has in the past featured reviews of the final Sg-1 episode, Unending , and of the first Sg-1 direct-to-dvd movie, The Ark of Truth. Stargate was the true succesor to the Star Trek crown, a beloved and long-lived franchise embodying the best of (North) American science fiction. It was thus with love and anticipation that I viewed the latest, and perhaps final, SG-1 movie, Continuum.
Whereas The Ark of Truth was mean to provide closure for the loose ends of plot left unaddressed due the unforseen cancellation of Stargate SG-1, Continuum was unburdened with such responsibilties, and thus was able to be a stand-alone, self-contained motion picture. Featuring the talents of now seasoned big- and small-screen veterans, like Christopher Judge, Ben Browder, Beau Bridges and Richard Dean Anderson, and benefitting from a budget large enough to pay for such talent and some state-of-the-art special effects, as well, Continuum unsurprisingly has a big screen feel to it. Unfortunately, the writing is still very much small-screen, with profound character explorations pushed aside in favour of cute TV-style moments.
Inasmuch as The Ark Of Truth was meant to close out the Ori storyline that dominated the final two seasons of SG-1, Continuum brings closure to the story of the Goa’uld, the original villains of the Stargate universe. The final Goa’uld system lord, Ba’al, is to be executed. But Ba’al has a final plan to salvage his life and empire: he goes back in time to prevent the humans from developing a Stargate programme, and uses his knowledge of the future to build an impregnable galactic Goa’uld empire. Of course, the core of SG-1 –Mitchell (Ben Browder), Carter (Amanda Tapping) and Jackson (Michael Shanks)– manage to avoid being affected by the changed timeline and must convince the leaders of the modified Earth to help them re-set the timeline to its proper continuity.
The science fiction aspects of this story are old hat. The idea of repairing an altered time continuity has been plumbed in pretty much every SF series of note, and by Stargate itself on more than one occasion. What’s new here are three things: (1) Continuum’s movie length allows it to explore the premise with a tad more depth than a mere TV show could; (2) in this version, someone finally mentions the ethical problem with resetting the timeline, specifically that it means affecting the lives –and sometimes preventing the lives– of billions of people who have only known the new timeline; and (3) at one point, the government of the new timeline forced Mitchell, Carter and Jackson to assimilate into the new world, which they do for a whole year. I wish this last bit was more fully fleshed out. Ultimately, watching these beloved characters function in such an emotionally and trying environment is more rewarding and interesting than watching them save the universe –yet again– with guns and space planes.
As alluded to earlier, the writing gets jerky at times. Stargate spent 10 years alluding to a complicated, and possibly romantic, relationship between Jack O’Neill and Sam Cater. But in a scene in which Jack is shot, Carter shouts, “Sir!” instead of “Jack!”, which is what the other team members shout. It seemed odd and cold. In general, emotional depth was missing, and I’m not sure whether to blame the actors, the Director or the writing. The saving graces in this respect were Richard Dean Anderson, Claudia Black and Willian Devane. In a fantastic moment, Anderson effectively conveyed the wounded father beneath his smirking, joking facade; Black was warm and nervous as Vala, yet cold and scary as the Goa’uld Kitesh; and DeVane always steals the scene with his simultaneous gravity and charm.
Continuum feels like yet another love letter to the fans, with cameos aplenty. It features the return of a really aged Richard Dean Anderson (whose rapidly maturing features are in contrast to Ben Browder’s remarkable timelessness), the final performance of the late Don S. Davis (General Hammond), and the return of many of SG-1’s greatest Goa’uld villains: Camulus, Nirrthi, Yu and even Apophis. There is a feeling that this will be the final SG-1 movie, which makes it all the more bittersweet.
As an extended tv show, Continuum is really quite good. As a standalone movie, it falls short of an exciting, epic feel. The most memorable part, for me, is watching Ben Browder hold a gun. He’s the only actor I’ve ever seen on TV or in the movies who seems to know how to cradle a shotgun or assault rifle. It’s actually so noticeable that it’s distracting.
Die-hard fans will love Continuum. Casual fans with some knowledge of the series and its characters will find it mildly entertaining. Newbies will be completely lost. Here’s hoping there’s a third Stargate SG-1 movie. This die-hard fan sure enjoys them.
