20 posts tagged “review”

Spoiler Alert

I've always thought of BSG as high fantasy gone inter-galactic.  It has all the elements of prize fantasy.  The scrolls of pythia (prophecy), the search for earth (long, dangerous quest through which the protagonists fully mature as characters), military (warriors and soldiers), the archetypal characters (too numerous to mention), the cylon-human battle (a war...many wars, battles and skirmishes), and so on. 

But this week's season finale really was high fantasy in a totally different sense.  There were some truly lovely scenes--Bill's demise was particularly gratifying for its gritty reality.  The touch of children rising into their parents shoes, was nicely handled with Lee (whom we've seen far too little of this season).  But other elements--the revealing of the four, Starbuck's cool handling of Ander's true nature, Lee's presidency, the amnesty, all felt a little too sugary sweet.  And earth; the icing on the sugary cake.  The big radioactive dump we all knew it was going to turn out to be.  No surprises, no shocks.  After all, all this has happened before, and all this will happen again.  Didn't at least one of them figure it started with earth?

Moving forward, where does that leave possible resolutions to the series?  In their bitter aftermath of their triumph, do the cylons and humans war again?  We know Starbuck leads the human race to its doom.  We also know Hera plays a pivotal part in the future.  So, I figure this could go one of a few ways.  Either humans wipe out the cylons, but never learning from their mistakes, go on to create another living machine.  Perhaps the cylons wipe out the humans, but ultimately end up creating humans (through dna, replication, whatever the technology) again.  So, essentially repeating the cycle.  Or we could go the mediocre route of a human-cylon truce based on a future populated by human-cylon hybrids.  None of these endings feel very satisfactory, so I'm hoping I'm wrong on all counts.

Postscript - there's an interesting theory and commentary here on possible resolutions for BSG.

I've just finished watching season one of The 4400 and it's not bad at all.  The series focuses on a bunch of people abducted by a mysterious force and returned en masse at a point in their future (our present day) in order to save humanity.  There are 4400 of these abductees, hence The 4400, as they are popularly labelled in the media.  The returnees all have been modified in some way so to have a unique ability to aid them in their task.  These abilities range from precognitive to life giving/taking.  Given the time the show first aired, and the political situation the world is in a few years on, the premise is oddly prescient. 

Structurally, the series revolves around the stories and movements of two key agents from Homeland Security heading up the drive to investigate and rehabilitate these 4400.  Baldwin and Skouris are a Mulder-Scully-esque pair and a lot of their chemistry feels very familiar from the days of the X-Files, though its maybe a slightly funked up version.  The series doesn't overwhelm you with characters either, concentrating on a group of 4400's and then slowly introducing and eliminating characters every so often. 

Series one was pretty short.  A total of six episodes, counting in the two-part pilot.  But it was well written, probably skimpy on the budget, but the characters were genuinely likeable and well detailed.  There is a huge emotional investment that is made into the characters and their lives, and it pays off.  These story arcs are the dynamic bringing in tension and leaving each episode on a cliffhanger.  I've got to admit, I got through this first series in virtually a day.  The ending, though is where I have the most quibbles.  I think, without giving too much away, that a lot could have been done with the ending, making it more dramatic and closing the series earlier on a certain dramatic moment, then the over-used Six Months Later... which is what we essentially got.

And here's where the rumbles of discontent really begin, because the second series opens up with a further 'Six Months Later...' ploy, which after the first one, is really wearing the whole thing, rather thin.  I'm still interested enough to continue watching and see what happens -- I've invested too much into the characters not to, but whatever happens, it better be good!

The 4400 was one of the first victims to fall foul of the writers strike with the 5th series being cancelled and the show being put on metaphorical ice.  While there is an active movement by fans to save the show, it seems unlikely, and I'm left wondering whether I want to continue watching a show that I know has no resolution...

The new series of Lost is showing a lot of promise.  I've been trying to stay away from spoilers and episode reviews, but a couple have  snuck past me; and what I've heard is very exciting.  Trouble is, in order to get the best out of it, I'm having to rewind all the way back to season 2, which I've watched part of, and season 3 which I've similarly seen fragments of.  I want a nice, clean linearly progression through the plot line so I can appreciate every nuance of season 4.  So, while the current series continues to air, I'm busy catching up on back episodes.

Now, I have a question for you.  What do Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein have in common?  You may be tempted to say nothing at all.  But hold that thought.  No really, hear me out.  John Kessel's short story, Pride and Prometheus, has Mary Shelley as the pen name of Mary Bennett, and the novel Frankenstein, based on real events, in which she was directly involved.  I can't think of two stories least likely to be paired yet work so harmoniously, creating a marriage of the darkly gothic and sorrowfully poignant.  Rich and evocative, it is a compelling and intelligent read on the dark side of love. 

During the last few weeks I've been catching up with Battlestar Galactica.  What struck me, in particular, is the show's success -- being a brilliant example of a well executed, character-driven script.  One aspect of the intra-character dynamics that creates a web of believable tension, is the complex relationship between Apollo, Starbuck, Sam and Dee.  

I hate to say it -- but I saw it coming.  From episode one of series one, it was clear there was something going on between the two pilots.  Friendship, clearly, intermingled with boredom and sexual frustration; a potent mix.  And for a while, it seemed like that was all that was going on.  Except, who could forget Apollo's expression when he saw Kara all dolled up in her green dress?  Not him, it seems. 

Fast forward a couple of seasons, and Starbuck's found a new love.  It looked like her relationship with Apollo had only ever stretched within the friendship boundary.  On the flip side, Dee and Apollo are finally getting closer, having made up their minds after all, that they are indeed interested in each other.  Cleverly, we are being led to believe that any suggestion of attraction between the two pilots was only ever transitory.  And then, comes the twist.  It wasn't a passing attraction -- the two really do love each other.

Except...

Kara pulls a scorching 180 degree turn that would be the envy of any fighter pilot.  She weds Sam the morning after she slept with Lee and declared her undying love for him beneath the stars.  A shell-shocked Lee finds solace in Dee's arms.  I had some sympathy for Apollo.  He believed he loved Starbuck who then threw his love away by marrying another man.  But my cup of sympathy didn't run over.

The trouble is, he was already with Dee at the time.  I'm assuming, he must have loved her to a degree to have had the relationship he did with her.  And as an audience, we have no doubt over either Dee's or Sam's devotion to either of their partners.  At this point, I have to high-five the script writers of BSG for taking the mature, un-sensationalist approach to wrapping up the twisted quadrangle midway through season three.

Realising Starbuck's fickleness (she may indeed love Lee, but frankly her actions are selfish), Lee makes what is probably the best decision of his life and shows an understanding of relationships that most men (and women, to be fair) have difficulty grasping:  the uncomplicated, unexciting, but fundamentally beautiful love of a devoted partner.  Dee understands him -- the man beneath the pilot, better than Starbuck ever will.  She's there for him when he needs her the most and she knows the reality of living with him day in, day out -- warts 'n' all.  And despite it all, she still wants him, admires and respects him.  Which, is more than Kara ever did.  That equates to so much more than a moment of excitement, the touch of lust, or the quick high of a clandestine flirt.  And Apollo finally gets that this is the meaning of true love. 

And Starbuck ... well, who knows.  It'll be interesting to see how the scriptwriters continue the dynamic after this.  I haven't reached the end of season three yet (so no spoilers please, people) but it wouldn't surprise me if the whole Starbuck-Apollo thing rears its ugly head again.

But in all of this, dya know who I feel most sorry for?  Dee.  She's a decent girl who's only mistake was falling in love with Lee.  She knew about his 'friendship' (that's a misnomer if ever I heard one) with Starbuck, but trusted he had made his choice to put Kara, romantically speaking, out of his life when he started dating her.  But, it was a lie -- effectively he's lied to her throughout the relationship and lied to himself.  I really like Apollo's character, but if I was Dee, I'd string him up.  All this time, he'd been chasing sparks, a pure fantasy -- at Dee's expense.  He doesn't deserve her love, loyalty and devotion; it would serve him right if she walked out of the door and never looked back -- leaving him only with his illusions (and the fickle Starbuck) for company. 

There's something of an uneasy relationship between sci-fi television and the big screen.  I was reading about Jennifer Garner wanting to play the part of a klingon in this year's new Star Trek movie, when I started thinking back to previous Trek films and how public reaction to the movies never quite matched the enthusiasm generated by the serialisations.   Take for instance, Star Trek: The Next Generation and its immense popularity -- who could forget Patrick Stewart at the helm of the Enterprise, or the tortured Troy-Riker love triangle?  But the movies (Generations, First Contact, Insurrection, Nemesis) -- who really remembers those?

And the more I looked, the more I started seeing a pattern.  The X-Files.  A brilliant series that spawned a generation of sci-fi addicts, and a show that successfully straddled that tricky mainstream/sci-fi divide.   Everyone has heard of Mulder and Scully, but by contrast, no-one has heard of the X-Files movie and presumably cares another is soon to be emerging out of the pipeworks.

Is science fiction best left to the little screen?  Ridley Scott is reported to have said at the screening of Blade Runner:  The Final Cut, that he believed the genre to be dead.  And at first glance is certainly seems that way.  Leaving aside all the comic-book heroes, how many popular science fiction movies can you think of in the last few years?  Weakly, I came up with two:  Terminator and Alien, with Alien being the only one that hasn't bred or emerged from a TV series.  Ouch.

But I really don't think it's all bad.  Buffy the Vampire Killer and Stargate are two examples of popular movies, that later became TV series.  In fact Stargate is so popular, it even has it's own spinoff.  As did Buffy with the equally popular Angel.  And Smallville, although originally an offshoot of the successful Superman movie franchise, became in itself a precursor for the return of the movie.  And Firefly, Joss Whedon's foray into space opera, although cancelled after a season, resulted in the production of Serenity.

So maybe not so much of a tangled relationship as symbiotic.  As for me, I'm still waiting in forlorn hope of a Battlestar Galactica movie.  I won't hold my breath. 

Like many others, I eagerly awaited the return of Superman to the big screen.  And was disappointed.  Yeah, there were some awesome action sequences and the movie had a delicious art deco feel about it.  But that was about it.  For me, Christopher Reeve was the archetypal Superman, and while it was clear Brandon Routh would have a struggle to fit into the other's boots, I didn't expect to be quite as disappointed by the movie as I was.  

And the reason for it was this.  It wasn't to do with Routh or the greatness of Reeve, it was to do with the embodiment of the spirit of an intensely rich Superman mythology.  Or lack of it.

Luckily, Smallville, doesn't suffer from this problem.  Yes, arguably it is Superman lite, frothy on the top and sugary at the bottom.  I'm with the next person when they say its often afflicted by a yo-yo like effect:  good episode follows bad episode and vice versa.  It would be lovely to get a little consistency going there, though the last two seasons have gone a long way towards addressing this issue.

But the real beauty of Smallville, and the reason I keep watching it and keep loving it, and the reason I suspect its so popular, is that it is infused with everything Superman.  Take for instance the cast of the show, in itself, a homage to the Superman tradition.  The late Christopher Reeve, a fan of the show, appeared in a couple of episodes back in season two, stunning fans and adding a certain gravitas and poignancy that complemented the mythology rich story arc.  Add to that a sample of the Superman score played in the background -- and I know I wasn't the only one who felt the chills down my spine that season. 

But who knew Annette O'Toole who plays Clark's insightful mother, Martha Kent, originally starred as Superman's first love, Lana Lang in the 1983 movie Superman III?  Or that Margot Kidder, who made the role of Lois Lane so iconic, would later appear in a couple of episodes?  Or that Dean Cain, himself a previous Superman, would appear in the current series?  

And Smallville isn't content to poach ex-Superman players either.  James Masters, Buffy's beloved Spike, emerged in the show doing what he does best -- portraying a beautifully dark and enigmatic character in the shape of Prof. Milton Fine.  Jensen Ackles, another familiar of the Supernatural world, hung out as a Smallville regular, playing Lana's squeeze, Jason Teague, for a total of 22 episodes.  Nor is Smallville content to restrain its cast there.  In the last couple of seasons we've seen the emergence of other DC Comic stars:  Flash Gordon, the Green Arrow and Aquaman but to name a few.  

Surely, for a show that's run for an inspiring seven seasons that would be enough?  But no.  We've also seen appearances by Superman's faithful hound, Krypto (aka Shelby) and now Clark's famous cousin, Supergirl has joined the fray.  If all of that isn't a reason to love Smallville, I don't know what is.  And let's not forget to give a mention to the understated star of the show, Tom Welling, who does a pretty spectacular job of defining the young, emerging Superman.  

Interesting fact:  Last year's Comic Con was buzzing with talk of appearances by Bruce Wayne on the show.  Unfortunately, those rumours were definitively laid to rest.  We'll never see the dark knight flying cape to cape with the man of steel.  

Blade Runner:  The Final Cut (2007) -- Directed by Ridley Scott

The 70's and 80's were home to a generation who knew man could walk on the moon.  Concepts like DNA, nuclear fusion and travelling through space at the speed of light weren't science fiction but science fact.  TV shows and movies like Star Trek, Flash Gordon, Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers fuelled star-hungry youngsters and adults alike with ideas of space exploration, and the conceptualisation of distant futures.  

And so along came Blade Runner.  The film that should have built upon all these premises and then destroyed them in a bleak, distopian vision of the future that was as disturbing as it was thoughtfully realised.  But, incredibly, the movie flopped and only later became a cult-classic, described as probably one of the best, if not the best science fiction movies of all time.

In total five cuts have been made of this movie.  Scott publicly stated his dissatisfaction with the 1992 director's cut and again tinkered with the film, resulting in the hugely anticipated Final Cut, released earlier this year.   

I'll be honest:  my expectations on watching the movie were pretty high and I really didn't think it was possible to match them.  I was wrong.  In a word, the experience was incredible.  Immediately, I was impressed all over again by the authenticity of Scott's vision, so richly detailed and so wonderfully dark and atmospheric.  

During the length of the film, I couldn't move.  My gaze hugged the immense cityscape and sharp, pristine clarity of the special effects.  It was painfully clear that this re-cut was a labour of love.  The original film had been cleaned to within an inch of it's life and scanned at a very high resolution.  The end result was more than great, it was beautiful.  

I sat still for two hours, absorbing every polished pixel and digitally re-mastered note.  During re-editing Harrison Ford's portrayal of Deckard became edgier and darker, his humanity increasingly ambivalent.  Whilst Rutger Hauer's characterisation of Batty softened slowly through to his eventual death scene -- still so delicately poignant, and easily the best science fiction movie moment of all time.  

Scott did more than make a brilliant movie; he affected a generation of film-makers and authors, and with this definitive release, he will inspire even more.  In those 117 minutes, I thought again about what it meant to be human, and wondered what legacies the generation of science fact would bequeath to the future.