Robotech, the Live Action Movie is Coming! Initiate the SqueeFest (Thoughts) #monthofjoy
The Geekexchange (via The Wertzone) reports that Warner Bros. has snagged the rights to Robotech, the classic 1985 anime. And there are some good names attached to the project: For a legion of fans that grew up on Robotech, it was fantastic news that it was previously announced that Warner Bros. picked up the rights from Harmony Gold USA to create a live action film version of the series. With big name veteran producers Akiva Goldsman (Mr. & Mrs. Smith, I Am Legend, Fringe (TV-series)), Tobey Maguire (Seabiscuit, Rock of Ages), and Jason Netter (Wanted, Robotech: The Shadow Chronicles) all attached to the project in producer roles, the search was on for a director. I remember watching re-runs of Robotech as a kid at some godawful hour of the morning (Saturdays!). I was all of two-years-old when the show first aired, so I didn’t start watching until the mid-90s, when one of the local channels started showing it to nerds who had to be up at five in the morning. Later, I read several of the novelizations, including Genesis by Jack McKinney. I’m pretty sure we picked them up at a thrift store for 25 cents each (it was the 90s, so the books had been out for a while). The covers were super cool — giant robots and all — though I don’t remember much about them now, except that they followed the narrative of the show fairly directly (my memory about the novels and show are a tad hazy, though, as most of my Robotech experiences involved seeing things out of order — yes, I’ve seen the original Japanese versions too).* I probably read the first three books of the Robotech novel series at least three times as a young person. Weirdly enough, I’d completely forgotten about them until the news about the live action Robotech movie hit the web. Strange. After the novels, I traversed into late-night Anime binges. My grandmother discovered the wonders of satellite TV in my late teens, which meant I got to stay up late on weekends watching anime movies. I discovered Blue Seed and a whole bunch of other anime shows that way. One of the things that occasionally appeared at one in the morning was Robotech (specifically, Macross: Do You Remember Love? and Macross Plus). This stuff helped foster a love for mecha shows, including Gundam Wing, which remains one of my favorite anime shows of all time. I should also mention that while discovering Robotech, I had also spent a great deal of time playing around with old RPG source books for Battletech, another mecha franchise. My friends and I used to use tracing paper to mix-and-match weapons on Battletech mechs, creating our own super mechs. I still have those somewhere, along with a whole lot of Battletech toys…And then I bought a few of the Palladium RPG books for Robotech and did the exact same thing. All of those books are still on my shelves… Basically, I was a total geek in my youth. And I’m still a geek today, because I will go see a live action Robotech movie even if they cast gerbils for all the roles. This is just too awesome! —————————————— *For those that don’t know. Robotech is the name of the American adaptation of the original Japanese anime franchise, Macross. The U.S. edition took the first three series of Macross and turned them into three seasons of Robotech (this is a drastic oversimplification, though, and I’m probably half wrong).
Movie Review: The Wolverine (2013)
I don’t know if it is common knowledge yet, but I pretty much hated the first stand-alone Wolverine movie. Its plot didn’t make any sense, the CG was lazy (at best), and the far-reaching story-line left much to be desired. Almost none of those problems exist here. The Wolverine is a high-octane action thriller with a fairly self-contained narrative, decent female characters, and a compelling, though limited, examination of mortality. This is one you should see on the big screen! The Wolverine begins many years after the events of X-Men: The Last Stand. A psychologically-wounded Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) lives a mostly solitary life in the woods, desperately trying to fend off his nightmarish dreams with alcohol. One of the dreams involves a Japanese soldier man named Yoshida (Ken Yamamura), who he saves from the atomic bombing of Nagasaki. The other dream involves none other than a mental reconstruction of Jean Grey (Famke Janssen), who forms the metaphorical representation of his deepest injuries: those of the soul. Eventually his past catches up with him: much older Yoshida (Hal Yamanouchi) has sent one of his agents, Yukio (Rila Fukushima), to find the Wolverine to offer the “gift” of mortality in exchange for taking Logan’s gifts for himself. But the schemes in the Yoshida household are not what they seem: Mariko (Tao Okamoto) is set to inherent “the throne,” her father, Shingen (Hiroyuki Sanada), wants her out of the way, and a mysterious mutant known as Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova) has managed to stop the Wolverine’s regenerative abilities in the service of her own violent agenda. Trapped in the middle, Logan must protect Mariko, uncover the plots that seem ready to destroy her, and regain his abilities before his injuries finally catch up with him. Needless to say, a lot of people get stabbed. There are a lot of things I love about this movie, but due to space, I can’t cover them all in depth. What I will say is this: the film met my basic expectations. When I came to The Wolverine, I wanted the following: Decent CG (Wolverine’s claws should actually look like metal claws) A Coherent Plot (no giant plot holes) Decent Character Development (the main folks should actually change somehow) Focus (10,000 subplots do not a good movie make) Awesome Action (good choreography and bit of gritty realism) The Wolverine offers pretty much all of these, more or less. First, I have to talk about the visuals for the film. While the direction is perhaps somewhat uninspired (where’s some Bourne-style action when you need it?), the look of the film does not disappoint. Bad visuals are one of my biggest pet peeves. If I can’t believe what I’m seeing on the screen — within reason — then I cannot get into the characters whose motivations are based in part on the world in which they exist. In the case of The Wolverine, the visuals rarely fall short of reasonably realistic, and this made it possible for me to suspend disbelief and immerse myself into the film experience. For example, Wolverine’s claws, which spend as much time on screen as every other actor other than Jackman, are rendered so well that it’s hard to believe they’re not actually part of his hands. The same is true for Wolverine’s injuries, which always look (and, by extension, feel) real. Additionally, the action sequences look beautiful, most notably the bullet train fight, in which Wolverine takes on several knife-wielding thugs while trying not to get thrown off the 300 MPH vehicle or get smacked by a metal arch or a billboard. Usually fights on top of large moving vehicles are dull and repetitive. While I enjoyed Star Trek Into Darkness, the climactic flying dumpster battle at the end left much to be desired. Here, however, the stakes have been raised. The heroes and villains both struggle to hang on to the top of the train while trying to kill one another. This makes for good comedy, such as when Wolverine feigns jumping over a metal beam, thus smacking one of his enemies into paste, but it also makes for a fight scene that has seemingly real stakes.* Anyone can die. Death is one of the things that makes this film far better than the Origins version. The film explores two different dimensions of mortality: the pain Wolverine feels at carrying the memory of killing Jean Grey within him and how discovering the possibility of death can change people. I’ll admit that I didn’t care for the way they manifested Wolverine’s dream-sequence-Jean-Grey terrors, but I at least understand what the director/writers wanted to do. Wolverine believes he has no reason to live, and that the root of that disinterest in life stems from Jean Grey’s death/murder. But what he apparently has to discover by the end of the film is a different sort of purpose in life, one that involves using his powers for something greater than himself. I don’t think the film makes this message explicit, but the last moments of the film seem to suggest, to me, that Wolverine’s rediscovery of the value of life, in part through his relationship with Mariko, represents one of the fundamental breaks from a life of killing necessary to turn Wolverine into more than his past. The other major exploration of mortality concerns Wolverine’s apparent vulnerability. For at least half of the film, Wolverine is supposedly susceptible to the same physical pressures of any other regular Joe. With his healing factor turned off, every attack could end his life. In every other film incarnation of the character, Wolverine can take bullet after bullet without so much as blinking. He doesn’t get tired. His head never rings from a blow. He simple grimaces and moves on. Filmmakers have responded to this by creating villains that do bigger and badder things, which seems like a horrible slippery slope to me: once you start doing that, you have to keep making the villains bigger. But in The Wolverine,
Month of Joy: “The Cardboard Robot” by Polenth Blake
After sending my critique partner a story about people living on the clouds, he commented that all my stories had robots. I denied everything. It was about cloud people! But there it was, the main character reminiscing on making a robot out of cardboard boxes as a child. Robots had made it in there. It wasn’t based on life. I never made a robot from cardboard, because I dreamt of functional robots. Such things weren’t easily available when I was younger, so I contented myself with Asimov’s robot stories and Short Circuit (Number Five reminded me of me). Eventually, I did get a robot for Christmas (which was expensive enough to also be my birthday present). It could be preprogramed to make noises and move on a set route. State-of-the-art toy material. And obsolete by the time I hit my teenaged years, when toys like Furby were all the rage. Robots could now react in a pseudo-animal way (within limits, as the original Furby couldn’t really learn language, or remember phrases, contrary to security fears). I haven’t been disappointed as an adult. Robot toys are increasingly lifelike. Movie robots now include one with a pet cockroach (it was like the people at Pixar knew all my interests when they made Wall-E). Robonaut 2, a humanoid robot, has made it into space. There are robots everywhere, so perhaps I shouldn’t feel bad if they’re everywhere in my stories too. ——————————————————– Polenth Blake lives with cockroaches and an Aloe vera called Mister Fingers. Her first collection, Rainbow Lights, is out in the ocean somewhere. Her website lurks at her website. P.S.: During my Week of Joy, I mini-interviewed Polenth about her collection. You can read that here.
Jim Carrey, Guns, and Kick-Ass 2 (Late Thoughts)
I said I would throw in my two-cents on this Jim Carrey story. I realize I’m late to the party on this one, but I feel compelled to talk about the entire issue. Instead of trying to summarize the whole damn situation, I’ll just block quote something from the Guardian: Carrey, who has been an outspoken proponent of increased gun control in the wake of the shootings by gunman Adam Lanza in December, tweeted on Sunday that he could no longer support the film. He wrote: “I did Kick-Ass 2 a month b4 Sandy Hook and now in all good conscience I cannot support that level of violence. My apologies to others involve[d] with the film. I am not ashamed of it but recent events have caused a change in my heart.” Scottish comic-book writer and Kick-Ass 2 executive producer Mark Millar, whose original work forms the basis of the sequel, today responded on his own blog, pointing out that Carrey, who plays a character named Colonel Stars and Stripes, knew exactly what he was letting himself in for. “Like Jim, I’m horrified by real-life violence (even though I’m Scottish), but Kick-Ass 2 isn’t a documentary. No actors were harmed in the making of this production! This is fiction and like Tarantino and Peckinpah, Scorsese and Eastwood, John Boorman, Oliver Stone and Chan-wook Park, Kick-Ass avoids the usual bloodless bodycount of most big summer pictures and focuses instead of the CONSEQUENCES of violence … Our job as storytellers is to entertain and our toolbox can’t be sabotaged by curtailing the use of guns in an action movie.” While I understand Millar’s frustration with Carrey, I do think he misses the point here. From Carrey’s perspective, film violence leads, at least in part, to real world violence. I don’t know how recent of a development these thoughts are for him, but it is quite clear that recent events (Newtown, etc.) have “inspired” him to take a more aggressive approach to the gun rights issue (see his comedy music video, “Cold Dead Hand“). The position is guided by a particular set of principles, which suggests that supporting gun violence in media begets violence in the real world. Within that perspective, life is viewed a sacred, and any action which might lead to the death of others (at the hand of a gun) must be opposed. I understand this position and even agree with Carrey on many counts. The notion that guns are, on their own, innocuous entities is specious at best and a downright lie at worst. There are cultures attached to them, and some of those cultures support or foment violence, whether directly or indirectly. Some of those cultures, of course, do nothing of the sort. Millar, however, takes the position that the film is pure fiction, and that nobody was actually hurt. That information is a given. You can’t intentionally kill people on film without violating the law, so the issue isn’t whether people are actually hurt, but what impact the violence might have on the general public. Carrey seems to believe that film violence — at least, in some forms — contributes to the problem of violence in our culture. Considering how fervently he has supported the gun-restriction side of the debate in the last year, it shouldn’t surprise us that he might have problems with anything perceived as connected to that very issue. Carrey had a change of heart. So sue him. That doesn’t make Carrey correct, of course. There are two positions he has taken: Guns and gun culture contributes to violence in the country Violent media contributes to violence in the country (already mentioned) These are relatively extreme positions, of course, and ones that are not necessarily supported by reality. While there are some studies that suggest violent media increases aggression and violence, there is no scientific consensus about the issue. Likewise, while gun culture, in my opinion, does little to curb gun-related violence, and may actually contribute to it (however unintentionally), the argument that guns themselves, or the people who use them, are directly responsible for violence is specious. The gun rights issue is about as grey as you can get. Any time someone tosses out European statistics to support their position, they tend to ignore the different cultural conditions and all of the examples in Europe that contradict the argument in question. The U.S. has a different culture, geography, and history from everyone else. Carrey doesn’t acknowledge that as often as he should, which makes it easy for people to look at him as a left-leaning soundbite machine. However, despite how much I understand Carrey’s position — let alone agree with it — I do think he has shot himself in the foot here. His career likely won’t suffer much, but he will piss off a lot of fans — and for good reason. He chose to take a role in Kick-Ass 2. While I won’t say he must support the film no matter what, I do think he should take into account that everyone else involved in the production, whether actors, directors, gaffers, or what have you, may actually suffer based on his actions. If people do refuse to see the movie, that could affect other people’s careers. I understand the importance of one’s principles; I have principles too, and I try to stick by them as often as possible. But you also have to think about those around you.* Carrey may not have anticipated his change of heart — how could he? — but he can anticipate how his actions will affect others. In fact, since his argument against guns is largely a causal one, he should understand causality quite well. Personally, I think he should shut up and donate his Kick-Ass 2 salary to an organization that represents his interests. He can take a step back from publicity for the time being, too (if you’re heart isn’t in it, then there’s no point trying to promote something anyway — that would
The Mind Meld of Doom: Great SF/F Stories by Women
If you didn’t see it already, I’m one of many who contributed to the recent Mind Meld at SF Signal. Head on over and see what everyone suggested, and then add your two-cents in the comments. All hail Joanna Russ!
The Vigilante in American Mythology (Brief Thoughts) #monthofjoy
(Note: due to an inordinate amount of spam comments, I’ve disabled comments on this post. If you really want to post a response, you can send me an email and I’ll figure something out. It’s irritating, but the other option is to have to deal with 100+ spam comments a day on this page alone…) While reading my Hugo Awards voting packet, I came across this post by Gilbert Colon on Person of Interest and Nolan’s Batman movies (somehow I missed this last year). After taking in the first couple of paragraphs, I had to stop and start writing a post in response to the following: To begin with, Person of Interest was created by Jonathan Nolan, who wrote The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises with his brother Christopher (the Trilogy’s director) and veteran comic-book adapter David S. Goyer. The parallels between Person of Interest and the Trilogy run deeper than the surface fact that the heroes in both are vigilantes. “A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. But … if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can’t stop you, then you become something else entirely.” Some of Person of Interest’s similarities may be due to the archetypal characters it seeks to depict. The series’ crimestoppers are altruistic protectors derived from the Old West, the private-eye genre, and modern television reinterpretations (The Equalizer, Stingray, and Hack come to mind) of which Batman, “the Dark Knight Detective,” is one. Nolan confessed that he’s “always liked characters who … operate on the edge of the law” and said he “was interested in writing something … dangerous. I’ve always been drawn to that aspect of Batman … maybe we are tapping into some of that.” One cast member (Michael Emerson) hypothesizes “that American audiences have a hunger for avengers … — the vigilante, the lone operators that will cut through the red tape and set things right … That’s such a strong theme in the States, and it’s part of what we are delivering. It goes back to cowboy movies and everything like that.” Why do Americans like these vigilante types so much? Why Batman and Superman and the X-Men and so on and so forth? What about these individuals who take matters into their own hands is so compelling to American audiences? I’ll admit that if there is a field of academic study on vigilantes, my knowledge about it amounts to nil. I, too, fell in love with vigilante types, from Tim Burton’s Batman movies to Nolan’s masterpieces. And as a reader of comics in my youth, these figures have been central to my life in a way I never noticed before. In fact, if you look at the sea of science fiction narratives that have dominated the screen in the last fifty years, it’s rife with examples of people going against the grain of society in some crucial way. Even Star Wars, commonly heralded as “that thing with which many of us grew up,” is a relative of the vigilante narrative, albeit with a far more revolutionary feel — vigilantes, in my mind, are far more isolated than the Rebels in Star Wars. Vigilantes are Batman, Riddick, half of Marvel’s superheroes (even Magneto), and on and on and on. In thinking about all of these characters and their narrative purposes, it dawned on me that American audiences are drawn to these figures because of some deep desire for a fantasy of action. So many of us live our lives trapped in a space we feel we cannot change, and most of us don’t have the willpower or ability to fulfill the role of the vigilante ourselves. And in the real world, the vigilante almost never wins: he or she almost always dies and the media campaign against the vigilante almost always succeeds. When you look at the political landscape of the United States, you can see the walls of the trap and how they function. Whatever you might think about America’s political parties, one can’t deny the fact that Congress appears incapable of any serious action. They say the system is gridlocked — trapped between two parties with drastically different political interests. The trap of American life extends from the directly political to the indirectly political. Young people have been faced with the stark reality that many of their futures have been forfeited, or at least put on indefinite hold. They can’t get jobs, or the careers they set out for have withered away or stopped growing. My mother faced this reality first hand: when she got her paralegal certification, the economy had tanked, flooding the paralegal jobs with applications from law school grads. There wasn’t anything she could do but find a job in another field. For a lot of Americans, there is a very real sense that nothing we do as individuals will matter in the long run. We feel stuck or lost. Some of us have lost hope (something with which I’ve battled over the years — largely from a political perspective), and day by day, we hear about criminals getting away with horrible crimes, the police failing to do their jobs, governments cutting funding to programs that actually save lives (firefighters, for example), and on and on and on. In my mind, the vigilante becomes a cathartic release, a way of living out the inner “us” that longs for change.* All the things that are wrong with our world — albeit, within a particular perspective of “wrong” — seem beyond our control. It feels good to watch Batman take matters into his own hands.** When you look in American film, the list of “true American” vigilante-type heroes is a mile long. In that list, I would include people like John McClane, Rambo, Erica Bain (from The Brave One), Hit Girl / Big Daddy / Kick-Ass, Batman, Punisher, Jack Burton, Dirty Harry, Foxy Brown, and so on and so forth. None of these figures are political neutral, of