Things

Low output lately. I wish I could say it was because I was diligently at work on something else, but I can't. There's more than one "something else" and diligence has only occasionally been a part of it. I don't get writer's block. I get low-grade writer's malaise and it's not (always) about the content of what I'm writing. It's more about futility, in general. Already racked up my first two rejections in the fiction market. Same as it ever was. So, I thought I'd just leave some brief thoughts:

1. Some of you whom were watching the Super Bowl (I was because there was food (Margot food) and good people) in the Michigan area may remember this ad:

Here we have the young Asian girl, bicycling along the rice paddies in her yellow shirt and speaking clear but slightly halting English about the threat of (presumably) Chinese people like her stealing American jobs because of Senator Debbie Stabenow's (D-MI) personal spending policies. What people immediately jumped on was the unmitigated racist nature of the ad (Foreigner! She took our jobs!) and, from a marketing standpoint, it's ridiculously over the top. Of course, most Midwesterners wouldn't know a rice paddy if they fell into one and drowned, but it was a nice touch all the same. Immediately, the media descended upon Hoekstra, with the state party saying it would have nothing to do with insufferable conduct of that vulgar nature. Pete, for his part, stood his ground, claiming that the intent was not racist and saying absolutely nothing about the fact that the entire spiel (Chinese people stealing American jobs because of the out of control spending of the US government) makes not a bit of sense in any way, shape, or vaguely economic form. Stabenow doesn't even sit on a significant trade committee and has been a back bencher of small repute on the Senate Budget committee in the most ineffective and largely invisible sessions of the US Senate in recorded history.

Pete's campaign had already been largely given up for dead when he unleashed this seemingly suicidal assault on the tender political sensibilities of the modern state. Most people considered it a grave "error". But no one who's been in the game as long as Hoekstra and whom spent the considerable outlay for a Super Bowl ad makes an "error" like that. Pete knew that if he wanted to get ahead in the primary struggle, he'd need a horde of wacky fanatics to give him the boost amidst the collection of milquetoast individuals then vying for the nomination. As soon as the media began its tirade, Hoekstra assumed the modern conservative stance of oppressed victim in a largely conservative and religious state. The Tea Party sycophants flocked to his side and a huge infusion of cash hit his coffers (doubtlessly a good thing since he probably broke the bank paying for the ad time.) Pete was telling it like it really is and the "librul media" and the "lamestream Republicans" weren't going to hold back the righteous hordes. 'Lo and behold, Pete wins the primary.

Thus, we come to Todd "legitimate rape" Akin, who has now been asked by the Romney campaign to step down for comments made a few days ago. Of course, he still leads Democrat Claire McCaskill (D-MO) in the general polls and there are no doubt a flock of "real Republicans" pouring cash into his pockets to protect him from those who don't want to hear the truth about illegitimate rape. Akin, of course, didn't plan this like Hoekstra did, but he can take advantage of it in the same way. Mind you, this is only a feasible political strategy if the bulk of your electorate is dumb as a fucking bag of hammers, but, there you go...(Just as an aside: Pete knew without a doubt what he was doing, as the ad ran largely in markets that are heavily populated by people to whom this kind of marketing would appeal, e.g. not the main urban centers of the state.)

2. In listening to one of the endless NPR homilies on the plight of the jobless a few weeks ago, I came across a phrase that stuck with me. I wake up some mornings with it in my head, quite possibly because I understand the deprivation and discouragement of the speaker's circumstances. The topic of the show was unemployment and underemployment. The caller was from Tennessee and he'd been a philosophy and divination student at Vanderbilt and a couple other schools and held multiple advanced degrees in those areas. He'd been unable to find work teaching and so had finally answered an ad for a house painting job and was still employed in this work at the time he called. The host of the show asked him if such work paid the bills and he replied: "Well, I've got peanut butter, no jelly. Sandwich, no chips. But you get used to it."

Here was a highly educated and intelligent man whose possession of those qualities matters not at all to our modern society. And he knew it. Just as so many other people that I know whom are in similar straits also know it. Society does not want them because they cannot do anything "productive" (i.e. profitable.) Even most universities don't want them. Our grand society.

3. I was thinking of doing some more detailed analysis of Hell on Wheels, as I've seen the first two episodes of the second season (including the first episode not written by the Gayton brothers, the show's creators) and it might, maybe, kinda, sorta be veering its way toward some interesting material. I think the potential for the setting is boundless (railroad expansion immediately after the Civil War, with a mixed crew of laborers, and venturing through Indian territory) but, while the Gaytons created some great characters, their ham-handed dialogue and mono-chromatic storytelling was letting a lot of the air out of the balloon by the end of last season. I mentioned this on the board one day and a lurker spoke up, saying that he was friends with someone at AMC who was connected to the show and that they were bringing in a stable of writers for the second season. The Gaytons wrote the first episode this year, so I was wondering if the plan was still in motion, but the second was written by John Shiban of X-Files fame and it began to seem almost human, so I'm looking forward to more. It's no Breaking Bad or Deadwood, but few things are. Anyway, if anyone among the half dozen or so of you out there has any interest, say so.

Dark Knight closing

There's a fair amount to be said about The Dark Knight Rising and much of it has to do with trends in the source material: the Batman/Detective comics that have been published for almost 75 years now. I think DKR was a solid movie, but I can't say it was a great one. I think it is the weakest of the Nolan trilogy, but still vastly superior to anything done by Burton or the wretched sequels that followed his efforts. Part of that is an appreciation for the character's roots and part of it is clearly an appreciation for its (relatively) very recent history. Significant spoilers below.

No matter what anyone tries from this point forward, they will likely never be able to escape the presence of Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns mini-series. Along with Watchmen, it heralded the beginning of the "grim and gritty" era of comics in the mid-80s. Those books grounded comics in "the real world"; they were emblematic of the way people talked and thought and lived in the 1980s, not some upgraded version of the 1950s that most superhero worlds inhabited. Despite dealing with drugs, sex, and racial issues from the late 60s onward (Marvel's Amazing Spider-Man #96-98 in 1969 essentially broke the Comics Code publishing authority by including a story about the detrimental effects of heroin addiction; the authority essentially ceased to be relevant from that point forward) and despite Neal Adams and Denny O'Neill having restored the Batman to his dark roots in the early 70s in an effort to escape the 1960s TV show, the culture of the worlds that comics created were still outside the realm of the everyday. They were still too staged and too preoccupied with super-powered explosions.

Then came Watchmen, firmly grounded in the Cold War and humanity's natural tendency to fear and hate whatever it didn't understand, including those weird people with the masks and very unnatural abilities. The Dark Knight Returns also rode that wave, pursuing the idea that the Batman along with those like him had been outlawed many years before, leaving a bitter and spiteful Bruce Wayne to watch Gotham City sink into chaos. In Miller's story, he attempts to save it from the utter destruction visited upon it by the gangs that control it. The Joker returns and the public blames the Batman for his actions. In the end, all-out war takes place on the streets, as different factions vie with each other and the Batman attempts to keep order, while ducking the government's attempts to capture him (with Superman, no less.). Along the way, the only person defending him is the now-forcibly-retired Commissioner Gordon. Sound familiar?

Miller reflected society and what would be at least some of the prevailing impulses and responses to a costumed vigilante. Nolan's scripts reflect this, as well, because the movie-going public will not swallow the basic reality that the comic-reading public often accepts: that seeing Spider-Man swinging down the street in pursuit of Electro and having the Batman beating the crap out of Killer Moth outside your restaurant is simply the natural order of things.

I think that the Nolans' script continues to embrace Miller's perspective (as I mentioned before, Batman Begins borrows heavily from Miller's Batman: Year One), but they've also demonstrated a willingness to adapt that perspective to tell their own story about a man so possessed by vengeance that he would sacrifice his fortune, his life, his friends, and his body in order to fulfill it. In the process, they've come full circle on that quest and shown the ripple effects of its outsized ambition. I like that. I appreciate that they showed the blowback, as it were, rather than simply dismissing what has gone before as last issue, which will only become relevant when the surely-dead major villain miraculously appears alive.

Interestingly, Bane as a character was essentially an homage to Miller's work, as well. In the second issue of The Dark Knight Returns, the Batman is beaten to within an inch of his life by the leader of the Mutant gang. He eventually returns the favor and breaks the will of the gang by defeating their leader (assisted, incidentally, by a version of the Batmobile that is more tank than car; yes, that's Miller, too.) This was the first time that Batman had been seen to be physically overmatched by another human, albeit one that was, as Wayne himself noted in the story "faster, stronger, and younger than [me] by 20 years." I think that inspired Denny O'Neill, who was an editor in the early 90s, to develop the idea of a character that would "break" the Batman, physically and mentally. Thus, Bane was developed as one of the early 90s massive crossover/super-platinum cover events which dominated the market (and almost destroyed it later in the decade) and still does to one degree or another.

In other words, Bane is a cipher. He's a plot device. He doesn't really have a motivation other than to break Batman's back, which he does, releasing chaos onto the streets, while the Batman is replaced by an almost-equally psychotic disciple for a few months until miracle surgery can be performed to return him to Gotham to defeat both Bane and the new Batman. It was all rather trite and redolent of spectacle over story... which is why I think that, despite some of the nice turns that Nolan put into the script to create Bane as something more than a device, the story still falls behind the prior two films. The central threat is not driven by anything that most audiences will be able to either relate to or even care about and, fittingly, Bane is removed from the film by a casual blast from the Bat-pod driven by Selina Kyle and, presumably, dies off-screen somewhere. In some respects, it's appropriate because, of course, the true driving force behind the whole threat is not Bane, but Talia. It's also appropriate in that, at it's root, the story is not about Bane. It's about the Batman/Bruce Wayne. But the reason that The Dark Knight worked so well and the reason that Batman/Detective comics have lasted as long as they have is that the Batman is not so much the protagonist of his adventures as the antagonist. The audience/reader wants to see the crazy stuff that the Joker, the Riddler, and the Scarecrow are going to engage in. They want to see inside the mind of the insane. The single-minded force of reason (the Batman) is already understood. What's interesting is to explore the other side. In Rising, Bane doesn't supply that because he's still more tool than character, which is a shame.

Things I liked

I like that they included Talia. She had always been an element of stories surrounding Ra's al Ghul and it's appropriate that Nolan hewed close enough to the source material to make her the driving element behind the master scheme. It's also nice to see a very capable and intelligent woman in the recent parade of superhero movies (they haven't been entirely absent, but they haven't been foci, either.) One wonders if Marion Cotillard will approach Nolan about being something less than a mildly-crazed destructive force for his next film, since that seems to be her trend. Nothing wrong with playing a villain, of course, as I tend to follow Dark Helmet's dictum on that. While the sexual/love interest contact between her and Wayne was as contrived as ever, it was nice to see their nod to that element of the two characters' relationship, which has been present since Ra's was created by O'Neill in the 70s. (Incidentally, the name Ra's al Ghul means "head of the demon" in Arabic (after the "demon star", Algol) and it's pronounced "raysh", not "rahs". Given their otherwise spectacular attention to detail, I wonder why that's never been corrected.)

I like that they never once referred to Selina Kyle as "Catwoman".  The fact that her IR goggles when pushed back on her head resembled a cat's ears seemed playfully coincidental. Hathaway played another intelligent, energetic, and capable female character and it was, again, good to see them slip in the romantic attachment that has been an element of Selina Kyle since she was first created (as "The Cat") by Bob Kane and Bill Finger in the 30s.

I liked the reduction in explosions. While there were still plenty to be had, the Dark Knight became a bit glutted by fire and shock waves to the point of tedium. More of the action in Rising was reverted to plain, old Batman fisticuffs, which can be tiresome in its own right, but was broken nicely by multiple perspectives and a lot of motion. One of the previews prior to the film was for the latest film incarnation of Resident Evil. I'm fairly certain that no more than two seconds elapsed at any point during the 60-second clip before yet another incendiary or propulsive display took place. That one got the greatest Sigh Factor™ for the day.

I liked the inclusion of contemporary issues and the public questioning of how the average citizen will survive while the owning class revels in their own existence.*

I think all of the performances were solid. Bale's was probably his best of the three films (one wonders if the Oscar win for The Fighter was his light bulb moment) as he certainly seems to have grown, not just in this role, but in his craft, overall. I continue to think that Gary Oldman is criminally underused in the staid Commissioner Gordon role, but there's something to be said for versatility (akin to Helena Bonham-Carter's performance in The King's Speech.) It was good to see Cilian Murphy return as Jonathan Crane for a few minutes. That was also a nice nod to the Robin legend at the end which was, thankfully, kept off-screen and served as a fitting pass of the torch to whomever takes up the writing/directing chair(s) in the future.

Things I not so liked

The script was uneven. There were some good lines (Hathaway seemed to get the best of them) and the characters remained as real as in the prior films. But there were some heavy expository moments that didn't involve philosophical outlooks so much as rote re-telling of origin stories or some such thing that you hoped would be shown more than told. Furthermore, there seemed to be a lot more "comic dialogue" than was present in the earlier films. When the Batman first encountered the Joker in The Dark Knight, he didn't stop to blurt out the latter's name so everyone in the crowd would know who it was. Everyone knew that already. Yet, in Rising, when he first encounters Bane, despite being aware of who he is and the audience already being fully educated, Bale stops and delivers the dramatic line: "Bane." I sat in anticipation of the Image-style posing shot before the ego-massaging/face-beating commenced.

Despite the capable direction of the action sequences, I think we've reached the limit of where the "real-time fighting" can take us. Half of the Bane/Batman engagements seemed to be a version of E. Honda's Hundred-Hand Slap: there were clearly a lot of strikes, but you didn't know where they landed or sometimes who threw them. Having practiced martial arts for a number of years, I've come to appreciate films (and actors) who've taken the time to engage in actual techniques that clearly do something other than just batter the opponent like a hailstorm. I can see the aikido and the jiu-jitsu and the escrima that Jason Bourne uses and I can see the kickboxing that Martin Blank uses in Grosse Pointe Blank; mostly because I can see them throwing punches and can see where they land. While it's all well and good to convey the speed and urgency of the encounter, I wouldn't mind going back to a little choreography that could actually be followed.

Perhaps it was simply the poor sound equipment of the theater or the position we were in relative to the speakers (we saw the IMAX version and ended up pretty close to the screen) but I heard a ton of reverb and feedback that frequently overwhelmed spoken lines. The ominous bass line of the soundtrack didn't help with this at all and, of course, the fact that Bane's voice was already distorted meant that I spent a fair amount of time trying to decipher what he said rather than simply listening to what he was saying.

On the topic of Bane, I failed to understand the whole mask backstory. The original character wore a mask for the same reason the Batman does: to intimidate his opponents. What gave him his power was a drug called Venom that was injected directly into his brain.

That's why you can see cables wrapped around him in most of his pictures from the comics. In Rising, we were presented with the idea that Bane's face had been ruined in prison and he took drugs from a unit directly attached to his face to save him from the pain of... bad dental work? The pain suppressors are what enable him to break concrete pillars by punching them? I have a hard time believing that his voice couldn't have been altered in the same way that Bale's is when he's in costume. Perhaps I'm just missing something.

*That said, I expressly disliked the idea that the revolt of the average citizen against the wealth that owns them was somehow necessarily driven by a nihilistic savage and was, therefore, implicitly wrong. Given that significant social change and some degree of justice in this country is unlikely to occur without violence, one doesn't need a terrorist and a fusion bomb to effect it. One really only needs Mitt Romney and Barack Obama as the only two sides of the argument about how many of the underclass should be sacrificed for a couple more million to flow to the top percent.

So, overall, I wouldn't call it one of Nolan's stronger efforts, but I think it was a decent end to a trilogy that will have lasting positive effect on the character and its legend for most of the public. I'd certainly recommend seeing it if you enjoyed the prior films, but it's not a must-see if you're just not into the whole Caped Crusader thing.

More is always better. God says so.

WASHINGTON -- Rep. Louie Gohmert (R-Texas) said Friday that the shootings that took place in an Aurora, Colo. movie theater hours earlier were a result of "ongoing attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs" and questioned why nobody else in the theater had a gun to take down the shooter.
During a radio interview on The Heritage Foundation's "Istook Live!" show, Gohmert was asked why he believes such senseless acts of violence take place. Gohmert responded by talking about the weakening of Christian values in the country.
"You know what really gets me, as a Christian, is to see the ongoing attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs, and then some senseless crazy act of terror like this takes place," Gohmert said.
"Some of us happen to believe that when our founders talked about guarding our virtue and freedom, that that was important," he said. "Whether it's John Adams saying our Constitution was made only for moral and religious people ... Ben Franklin, only a virtuous people are capable of freedom, as nations become corrupt and vicious they have more need of masters ... We have been at war with the very pillars, the very foundation of this country."
Ernest Istook, the host of the show and a former Oklahoma congressman, jumped in to clarify that nobody knows the motivation of the alleged Aurora gunman. Gohmert said that may be true, but suggested the shootings were still "a terrorist act" that could have been avoided if the country placed a higher value on God.
"People say ... where was God in all of this?" Gohmert said. "We've threatened high school graduation participations, if they use God's name, they're going to be jailed ... I mean that kind of stuff. Where was God? What have we done with God? We don't want him around. I kind of like his protective hand being present."
Gohmert also said the tragedy could have been lessened if someone else in the movie theater had been carrying a gun and took down the lone shooter. Istook noted that Colorado laws allow people to carry concealed guns.
"It does make me wonder, with all those people in the theater, was there nobody that was carrying a gun that could have stopped this guy more quickly?" he asked. (HT: HuffPo)

Emphasis mine, of course, because when one is in a dark room, packed with people, many in costume, under the flashing lights of a two-story movie screen, and filled with tear gas, what better solution to the situation could there be than MORE GUNS? After all, it was doubtlessly a room full of trained police officers and combat vets there to see the midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises, right? All of those people would have understood the chaotic situation into which they were discharging a firearm, just like the individual who sowed said chaos, no? Personally, I don't give a damn if the room was filled with the local law enforcement convention. Under those circumstances, I'd rather be in a coop full of armed chickens who just got doused with water.

Newsflash: The solution to guns in our society is not more guns. It's less of them. Less access, less numerous, and lower rates of fire. Those hallowed Judeo-Christian values ("all who take the sword, die by the sword") should tell you that.

The nail ladies and their lack of understanding

This is brilliant.

New York’s rich and super-rich convened in the Hamptons on Sunday for a trio of fundraisers for Mitt Romney, expected to bring in as much as $4 million. And the well-heeled donors did little to avoid looking like, well, moneyed attendees paying for exclusive access to the Republican candidate.

While a group of Occupy Wall Street protesters assembled in the area, the Porsches, Range Rovers and BMWs streamed in. Here are some of the best quotes from the events.
A gem from the Los Angeles Times:

A New York City donor a few cars back, who also would not give her name, said Romney needed to do a better job connecting. “I don’t think the common person is getting it,” she said from the passenger seat of a Range Rover stamped with East Hampton beach permits. “Nobody understands why Obama is hurting them. “We’ve got the message,” she added. “But my college kid, the baby sitters, the nails ladies — everybody who’s got the right to vote — they don’t understand what’s going on. I just think if you’re lower income — one, you’re not as educated, two, they don’t understand how it works, they don’t understand how the systems work, they don’t understand the impact.”

Peter Cohen, the former Shearson Lehman Bros. chief, told the Associated Press — while chewing on a cigar — that Romney is a “plain-talking guy.”
Ted Conklin, who owns the American Hotel in Sag Harbor, told the New York Times that Obama is a “socialist.”
“His idea is find a problem that doesn’t exist and get government to intervene,” Conklin added, his wife, Carol Simmons, nodding beside him in their gold Mercedes.
But wait, there’s more. From the Times:

Ms. Simmons paused to highlight what she said was her husband’s generous spirit: “Tell them who’s on your yacht this weekend! Tell him!” Over Mr. Conklin’s objections, Ms. Simmons disclosed that a major executive from Miramax, the movie company, was on the 75-foot yacht, because, she said, there were no rooms left at the hotel.

 It's not like most Obama fundraisers would be any different in terms of attitudes and ignorance, but they're typically smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

"We're all liars here."

And that, of course, is how the Game is played, right to the end. It was, of course, the finale on Sunday. I've been a bit distracted by other things and part of my distraction was a somewhat mixed and/or muted reaction to what went down in episode 20. I wasn't entirely disappointed, so much as more than a little aware that I'd seen/read so much of this story before that I didn't really need a "bridge" episode to get me to the next sequence. I was and am already waiting to get there. But I'll go into that in more detail in a bit.

This episode was about lies: the major ones, like the carefully choreographed setting aside of Sansa for Margaery in the throne room, to the little ones, like Brienne telling 3 northmen that she served the Starks just moments after insisting to Jaime that she didn't; the huge ones, like the visions of the House of the Undying, to the smaller ones, like Jon and Qhorin deceiving the Wildlings about the former's loyalty. The wedding, Melisandre's visions, Theon's bravado, Tyrion's reign as Hand, the empty vault and, of course, Jaqen H'ghar. All lies, to one degree or another. Lying is how politics and power games function, whether in a fantasy medieval society or in modern America. In the end, those that can do it best tend to succeed.

It was gratifying to see Alan Taylor take the director's reins again, as I think he's probably the best among the regular group that has been employed (and he's now a producer, as well.) Little touches, like beginning with Tyrion's mismatched eyes, reminding everyone that he is still the dwarf, the outcast, are emblematic of his method. Also, opening the throne room sequence with a pile of horseshit only slightly less odorous than the careful dance that would proceed in that scene was another nice note of style.

This scene was our establishing shot for the episode. It was the wrap-up to the furious pace of "Blackwater" and a demonstration of the victors sharing the spoils. We got the first recitation of the full titles of the king in quite a while, a blatant demonstration of the ambition and deviousness of the Tyrells (admittedly, Loras (Finn Jones) could stand to have an expression on his face other than petulant child by next season), the remonstrations of duty and character by the Lannisters, and finally the acquiescence with the best moment, Sansa laughing to herself as she leaves the room... before Littlefinger buttonholes her and gives her the reality that she, once again, just misses. Sophie Turner has been great this season and this brief moment was no exception. "Look around you. We're all liars here and every one of us is better than you."

I have to say that one of the moments that put me off was the following scene with Varys and Ros. I'm all about giving Conleth Hill more moments to shine (which he did here: "I am not like most men." "That's what most men say."), but was it necessary to show a scene of this length for Ros' recruitment. I wonder if that could have been simply woven into next season as she's going about a task for him? Regardless, best hashtag I've seen recently is: #InVarysWeDoNotTrust.

Meanwhile, everyone's favorite odd couple proceeds on their merry way. Nikolai Coster-Waldau, having not been given a huge range of situations to deal with this season ("Be a prisoner. Go."), is at his arrogant finest in the last few weeks while paired with Brienne. "You're a virgin, I take it?" That said, one of the best expressions of the night was the look on his face when Brienne eviscerated (and castrated) the three soldiers in seconds, followed by the command to "Stay" as if the Kingslayer was the nearest dog. Next season is already looking good. By the same token, Robb's scene with Catelyn was a bit more stilted than before, perhaps intentionally, as he's firmly decided that her decisions no longer have any impact on what he's doing ("The only parent I have left has no right to call anyone 'reckless'.") I think they handled the wedding about as simply as it needed to be. There is some degree of dissension out in the GoT community about the presence of Talisa and why the whole love story needed to play out on screen, whereas it takes place between the 2nd and 3rd books. I didn't particularly object to the off-camera joining of Robb and Jeyne in the books, as I know that Martin was trying to convey both the progression of time and the grueling aspect of a ceaseless war. Given the difference in media, I think trying to drop a new character on a TV audience and especially one that carries such import for the story overall (alliance with the Freys, etc.), without giving them any opportunity to know about her and identify Robb's feelings for her, would have been a very poor idea. There are still reviewers that joke (humorlessly) about the endless parade of characters in the series. Adding another and expecting the audience to catch up to events that weren't even on their screens is a bit much.

It was nice to see Melisandre back on screen, obviously recovered from her postpartum depression. While their relationship seems understandable in the books, given the absolute fervor of most of those surrounding Stannis (including his wife, Shireen, who is being cast for season 3 as I write), I continue to think that it seems a little unfounded for the stern and pragmatic Stannis to have his head so spun around by the red woman with little else to go on other than "I've seen it!" That's why it was kind of gratifying to hear Stephen Dillane use the "Where's your god now?" approach. Melisandre's equally poignant response: "Inside... you." was one of the few hints at mystery that the writers have proceeded with and which, again, I'll get into a bit later.

By far, the best scene of the episode, though, was the one between Theon and Maester Luwin, while the horn of (presumably) Bolton's bastard and his men sound outside (this is why vuvuzelas were banned at the World Cup...) Theon's presentation in the books is that of arrogant prick and he never really loses that mantle, even when confronted with the reality of the loss of Winterfell and the shame to follow. His presentation here, as I've mentioned before, is far more tragic and, while he is just as stupid and overconfident as he is in the books, he's also carrying a burden that is far more pronounced than any that Martin ever assigned to him. In the same way that Osha was moved by Natalia Tena's performance from token figure to one of actual intelligence and interest (and which will be expanded upon by Martin in Winds of Winter), I think the writers of the series and Alfie Allen shifted Theon from side character to one that people could take an active interest in, not simply to detest like Joffrey, but to sympathize with as someone caught up in a world he can't possibly control but continuing to protest to everyone (even himself) that he can. This line would not have come from Book Theon: "Know what it's like to be told how lucky you are to be someone's prisoner? To be told how much you owe them? And then to go back home to your real father-!" Their later exchange only drives the point home, perhaps unnecessarily: "I've known you many years, Theon Greyjoy. You're not the man you're pretending to be. Not yet." "You may be right. But I've come too far to be anything else." The final insult to injury is the clout over the head when he's supposedly making the one "honorable" choice of his life, but which is actually just another way to escape responsibility, in the end. Dagmer Cleftjaw's pointed line: "Was a good speech. Didn't want to interrupt." was a last kick of sand into the face of Theon, never good enough to be Hero of the Beach (Ironborn, of course.) While I really missed the more elaborate events surrounding Winterfell (we're not even told who burns down the castle, departing Ironmen or invading Boltons), I understand the time constraints that required shortening the story (rhymes with "tweak"...) and I hope they'll be able to make it up sufficiently in season 3.

They could have gone further with the scar. This is one of the few complaints I've had in two seasons about set, props, makeup, or other immersion details. I'm sure Peter Dinklage didn't relish the idea of sitting in a makeup chair for six hours every day to have half of his nose removed, so I can understand some restraint there (in addition to money concerns) but I think I have scars on my face that look more dire than that one. This was a good moment almost solely for Dinklage's performance, as there was little else to be gained other than to confirm that Bronn was also removed from power and that Shae would be sticking around. Tyrion summed up my interest in politics in perhaps the most cogent manner I've ever heard:  "These bad people... Out-talking them, out-thinking them... It's what I'm good at. And I like it. I like it more than anything I've ever done."

That said, again, it is sometimes the little things that make the whole project work. At this point, my favorite piece of music from two seasons is the soft, inquisitive, vaguely eerie harp that accompanies the presence of Jaqen H'ghar. It was a great idea to leave an abrupt demonstration of his abilities as a Faceless Man to the very last moment. This is, again, one of those things that is demonstrative of a difference in medium. Leaving this kind of event to the last moment in a book would leave your readers confused. Doing so in a TV series, where so much is done visually, is exciting and I think it worked well. It speaks to how long I've been reading these damn things that at every point where Jaqen and Arya used the words "Valar morghulis" the first thing that came to my mind was "Valar dohaeris."

Aemon's last moments were also well done (again, little lies to the boys) and I appreciated both seeing a line and some actual acting from Rickon (Art Parkinson), as well as a few more seconds with Shaggydog and Summer (for the eternally absent dire wolves that are still supposedly crucial to the story...), and later Ygritte's look of wonder and surprise at Jon's viciousness when he kill Qhorin (similar to Jaime's at Brienne's display of skill earlier) and the finale showing the impending attack by the Others and a horde of wights. That last moment was the only one where lies were simply not possible. Winter is coming, indeed.

Most of what I've mentioned has been positive and not indicative of why I would be disappointed in the episode. But, as I said, most diehard fans like me have little need of a show that wraps up everything very neatly until next time. We know that the story continues. We know how the story continues. There's nothing at all wrong with leaving a few loose ends hanging (one that they did leave adrift is what happened to Davos Seaworth, as I'm quite certain that many amongst the TV audience simply believe him to be dead (with good reason)) and enticing people to find out why. Or, for that matter, using a ready opportunity to drop some questions into the plot line that people can muse about until next spring. Said opportunity was the House of the Undying.

I honestly never really liked this sequence in the books. It was one that became almost jarringly surreal in a book that was otherwise firmly rooted in the pragmatism of (literal) cloak and dagger. However, one upside to it was the chance to show scenes from Daenerys' past and a past she was not even aware of (including a figure that was clearly Rhaegar Targaryen.) It's this kind of lore and history that is what makes the series an "epic" fantasy and it is the lack of same that many fans (such as Ello and Linda of Westeros.org here) complain is missing. This kind of stuff "makes the world", as it were. Westeros.org goes so far as to suggest that, in replacing lore with sappy romance (i.e. Robb and Talisa), the producers have pushed the series past one that is "based on" A Song of Ice and Fire to one that is "inspired by".

I'm not sure that I'd go quite that far. As I noted above, I think there are very valid pragmatic reasons for leaving Robb's relationship on screen. Furthermore, some of that same pragmatism exerts control over why such things aren't shown (lack of money and airtime, which this season has suffered from far more than the first.) Most importantly, though, I think it potentially detracts from the central thrust of the story. When the furry appears in the famous moment of The Shining, does anyone really know what that means? Does it impact the story in significant fashion the way the ocean of blood or the murdered twins do? No. It's a conceit of Kubrick's and a weird touchstone for people who've seen the film. In the same fashion, did we really need to see four dwarves raping a beautiful woman in the House of the Undying? Did we need to see Rhaegar citing his son, Aegon, as the "prince who was promised"? Would that kind of stuff create intrigue in the manner that Ello and Linda suggest took place with Lost or would it just create confusion in an audience already supposedly burdened by a cast already stretching into the dozens and set to increase by a couple dozen more next season?

HBO has been doing a pretty decent job of trying to school people on the background of the books and the world in which the story takes place. They've done so largely by including features on their website and adding extras to the DVD/Blu-ray releaes. Having been immersed in the books since 1996, I really haven't paid much attention to any of that. I know it all already. But with those resources available, is that detracting from their willingness to show history and lore? Or is the show sufficiently different from one like Lost, the central mystery of which was the basis of the show's identity, to not need mysterious visions and an endless reference to names and family branches to already encourage discussion through next winter about the show and what is happening? Does this come down to a difference of stylistic approach or is it more a concern over how close the producers are hewing to the material?

For example, Ello and Linda suggest that the way Theon is represented has spoiled what made the character Theon Greyjoy. He is "not Theon". I've heard many similar complaints about key figures like Cersei and Daenerys. But, given the quicker pace and greater constraints of the medium of television, that kind of change is almost inevitable. Characters are going to be different and, more importantly, be interpreted differently in a different medium. As fond as I am of the story, I suspect that I would say that many of the altered versions as presented in the show are actually better than their counterparts in the books. Osha is undeniable (by Martin's own estimation.) Theon is far more interesting (How long could Alfie Allen have gone on being the shallow prick that is Theon in the books?) So, I'm not sure that complaining that certain presentations and detail are lost is sufficient evidence to say the producers have seemingly lost their way, even if I do agree that the House of the Undying sequence was a bit lacking in its execution. Honestly, did it really matter that she went there to retrieve the dragons rather than simply seeking an audience so they could assassinate or kidnap her, anyway (as in the book)? Isn't going there to retrieve her children a more compelling scenario?

For that matter, how would they have gone about representing who Rhaegar was, since Martin actually never specifically named him in Clash of Kings, but has generally acknowledged that, yes, that's who was in the vision. Dany never knew him. She was an infant when last in his presence. Jorah Mormont may have been able to identify him if described, but then we start veering off of Mormont's character. Put simply, I guess I'm saying that while I wouldn't have minded seeing those scenes of Rhaegar from the book, I can understand why the produces would choose to leave them out in favor of something far more pertinent to the viewers who've been watching for the last year-and-a-half:

Nice cameo by Momoa, too.

So, there it is. Another season done. I think it's still proceeding well, overall, and I'm looking forward to the first half of Storm of Swords next season. This note from Winteriscoming.net confirms casting for the Blackfish, the Reeds, the Queen of Thorns, and Thoros of Myr, among others, and I've seen an audition video for Vargo Hoat. Of course, the character I'm most looking forward to would have to be the Red Viper (House Martell fan: Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.) I have a couple conflicting images of him in my head, so I'll be interested to see how they mesh with a new face.

Avengers Assemble

I am really, really glad that they didn't use that battle cry...

 So, I finally got around to sitting down in front of The Avengers yesterday. Overall, I was OK with it. It was fun, as most of Marvel's movies are supposed to be. Character-wise, once again, Robert Downey, Jr. was the highlight as Tony Stark/Iron Man, as he's the best actor among them and had the best lines. I think that Chris Evans (Captain America) and Chris Hemsworth (Thor) do solid jobs with what they're given to work with. On that note, Jeremy Renner's role as Hawkeye was pretty monochromatic, which is a shame for a guy that did really well in The Hurt Locker and The Town. You'd hope for something a little more emotive, especially from someone playing Clint Barton, a rather tempestuous character in the comics, but it was not to be. Thankfully, they left out the goofy purple-and-blue costume with the big "H" on the forehead, just in case people forgot who he was. ("Of course! He's H-Man!")

By the same token. Tom Hiddleston was unfortunately stuck with Loki's classic golden-stag-on-PCP uniform. It's not like subtlety has ever been a large facet of the character and Hiddleston plays it for all it's worth, but you still kind of wonder at that choice. Mark Ruffalo was actually really good as Bruce Banner (Here's a bit of cultural trivia: Why was the character named David Bruce Banner in the 70s TV show? Because Universal thought that "Bruce" was a name too closely identified with gay men. I kid you not. There was even a joke about it in a contemporary issue of the comic where Banner is checking the classifieds for jobs and sees an ad for "Turkish baths" and thinks to himself: "Nah. I don't think that's for me." My reaction as an 8-year-old: "What's a bathhouse?") Scarlett Johansson (Black Widow) is herself: she's wooden, she's gorgeous, I could watch her beating the crap out of Russian mobsters all day:

and Sam Jackson (Nick Fury) continues his string of roles that will never even approach his stellar performances in Pulp Fiction and The Red Violin. It's a shame, really, because you'd think with the ethical conflicts inherent to the role (and squaring off on SHIELD's version of Skype with a shadowy Powers Boothe), he'd have a lot of room to work.

I think the script was pretty uneven, though. There were moments when someone was gabbling on about this or that topic where I was actually waving my hand as if to hurry the pace because it was pretty tedious. I don't know whether that's an effect of my knowing all of this stuff (The "tesseract" is the Cosmic Cube, which was created by AIM (Advanced Idea Mechanics) with a biological computer named MODOK (Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing; why, then, was he created to create the Cube...?) It was later used by the Red Skull to try to kill Captain America and was lost by him to the Sub-Mariner and later reclaimed by the Red Skull and later stolen from him by Thanos (the grinning, purple dude at the end), who was the only person able to truly exploit its power to reshape reality ("It's a genie in the lamp. But with a thousand wishes. And in cube form.") and try to reshape the universe and... on and on and on...) There's a lot of backstory here, most of which they dispensed with based on a tale about perpetual energy, which is a nice shortcut and certainly more relevant to a modern, movie-going audience (AIM always looked liked dorks in those yellow outfits, anyway)

but part of taking that shortcut with an ensemble cast is that you have "character stuff" that has to come to light which can't really be done as anything but boilerplate exposition, lest you lose the pace of the film. They almost did that a couple times, anyway.

It was interesting to see them run across the same problem that most comic writers did in the 80s: How do you rationalize the Batman-types (Hawkeye, Black Widow, Captain America) fighting against things that would actually provide a challenge to the Superman-types, like the Hulk and the God of Thunder? You could kind of dodge that when people didn't pay too much critical attention to stuff like, you know... story in the 60s and 70s but it became more difficult later. I still found it kind of ludicrous that, in a battle taking place across all of midtown Manhattan, the three "human-powered" types would think that whatever they were doing in one intersection would have any effect on the thousands of lives endangered by a constant flow of homicidal aliens on personal hovercraft, not to mention the gigantic flying Moray eels/troop carriers. This is where you run into the conflict between character and story that is reminiscent of what I mentioned in this post: "character" is for long-time readers; "cool SF stories where lots of stuff blows up" is often for new readers. In the movie business, it's a microcosm of the same thing and it's all about pacing.

I have no concrete opinion on Joss Whedon. I've seen almost none of his TV work, although I have many friends who swear by Buffy and Firefly, the latter of which I've seen a couple episodes of and which seems to me to be remarkably overblown, but cult audiences are labeled so for a reason and I'm as guilty of it as anyone else. Having seen Serenity, I'd say this is a step up in that it retains his often deft touch with dialogue and humor, but maintains a better handle on the cuts from one point of the ongoing battle to the next. He also handles the sadly obligatory "superheroes meet and beat the crap out of each other before actually talking" encounter about as coherently as you can. He shows a nice touch in this scene, which expresses and releases some of the audience frustration with the slippery villain (and is, without doubt, the funniest of the movie):

The audience laughter overwhelms the Hulk's one actual line in the film, which is the only moment when Whedon gets away from the fact that the whole "Hulk, Mindless Savage" perspective came from the aforementioned TV series. That trope gets old fast, which is why I appreciated the fact that Lee and Kirby originally designed the Hulk as more of a tragic figure. He can talk, if somewhat haltingly, and spends most of his time doing so asking why people keep shooting him for no other reason than he's big, green, and didn't do what the Pentagon told him... He was intended to be a modern spin on Jekyll/Hyde, except that he was misunderstood, as opposed to showing the darker side of humanity. My one real hope was that they would start steering the character back in that direction. This may or may not have been the first step in that process. Am I the only one who thought of a dog trying to shake the life from one of his lifeless toys in that clip?

Bitch, bitch, bitch... I know this all sounds like I'm trying to shred the film but I actually did like it. I'm just so pre-wired to most of this stuff that it's hard for me to look at it with anything but a very jaded (Radioactive Man?) eye. I've read more superhero comics than most people should be in the same room with. Bottom line: if you keep your expectations at the level of "superhero film", you will not be disappointed. I still think Iron Man is the best of the recent offerings by Marvel and the only one that rises above said level. I'm still astounded that The Avengers has been so well received by critics, but I can certainly understand being swept away by the (perpetual) energy. The fact that they've indicated that Thanos is the villain of choice for the sequel fills me with varying degrees of dread. Had this been the early 80s, I'd have been thrilled, but there's been a lot of crap piled on top of that character since then. So, we'll see. Of course, I do have to say that one of the best moments of the film is the shawarma bit after the credits,

 if only because it conveys that atmosphere of what it must feel like to have been thrown through a few skyscrapers for a couple hours. The impressive restraint is indicative of Whedon's potential as a director and may indicate an ability to demonstrate that further in the sequels. Here's hoping.

"The world is built by killers, so you'd better get used to looking at them."

So, this was what everyone had been waiting for: the first major battle scene of the show. I think they succeeded, for the most part. The constraints involved didn't seem to be money so much as time: there's only so much tactical detail you can convey in an episode that lasts an hour and which has to cover a lot of other storytelling ground. There were a lot of nice touches throughout (the overflowing puke barrel on Stannis' approach was one of the best) and the characters that shone through were the ones who actually had as much steel in their spines (Bronn, the Hound, Cersei, Sansa) as they were wearing, if not more.


The fact that the episode was written by Martin provided a bunch of little subtexts for anyone that has read the books. Was the confrontation between Bronn and Clegane something he'd been wanting to do in the books and took advantage of here? It didn't add a whole lot to the moment, as we were already aware of both of their attitudes and their disdain for their opposing employers. Of course, that whole scene gave us plenty of texture to begin with ("Don't feel sorry for him. He'll be halfway up your ass before the night's through."), including the obligatory nudity and, finally- FINALLY! -music for the Rains of Castamere! Now we just need music for the bear song and the world is complete.

Credit: http://ivyarchive.tumblr.com/

I'm not entirely sure I like the direction that Varys has taken in the last couple episodes ("I'm entirely sure you're entirely sure what I'm suggesting.") Trying to spare the realm death and destruction is one thing, but being the local Jeremiad is something else. Bringing up the Dark Powers/Old Powers at this stage is kind of an odd placement for that bit of info, especially since we haven't seen Melisandre since she ganked Renly.

 
Of all the off-battle scenes, though, the best was probably the one that took place in the throne room. Bronn and Tyrion's Marx Brothers routine was brilliant:

"Do you know how to use that?"
"Chopped wood once... No, I saw my brother chopping wood."
"I saw ya kill a man with a shield. You'll be unstoppable with an axe. Don't get killed."
"Nor you, my friend."
"Oh? Are we friends now?"
"Of course we are! Just because I pay you for your services doesn't diminish our friendship!"
"Enhances it, really."
"Oh! Enhances! Fancy word for a sellsword."
"Been spendin' time with fancy folks."

But some of the best moments were Sansa's. It took me a long time to warm up to Sansa as a character. In fact, I don't recall doing anything but sighing at her chapter headings until Feast for Crows. But Sophie Turner has been doing great work in the series and gave one of the best performances of this episode ("I'm sorry, Your Grace. You're right. I'm stupid. Of course you'll be in the vanguard.") I wish they had been able to take a moment to indicate to viewers that Hearteater is Ice reforged. I'm not sure how many would catch that or if there was something obvious to indicate it that I missed.

Speaking of people that were on fire (away from the battle...), once again Lena Headey was just excellent. The schoolgirl-level taunts of Sansa, the stories about sieges to elicit reaction; and the cold acknowledgment that, in a male-dominated world, the most precious resource to her are her children, especially the one currently sitting on the throne, were all moments for her to shine. I loved the repudiation of the old aphorism "There are no atheists in foxholes": "The gods have no mercy. That's why they're gods."; and the frank acknowledgment of the other weapon at her disposal: "If it were anyone else, I might have hoped for a private audience, but this is Stannis Baratheon. I'd have a better chance of seducing his horse." But the best moment was the exchange with Sansa over their place in the world:

"He was heir to Casterly Rock and I was sold like a horse to a stranger to be ridden whenever he desires."
"You were Robert's queen!"
"And you will be Joffrey's. Enjoy!"

These moments more than any other made it clear that it was Martin behind the screenplay, as the theme of women being powerless even while seemingly masters of all they survey has been a constant throughout the story and something almost as prominent as the sorry fate of the smallfolk caught up in the Game. A nice addendum was Shae: "Maybe she hates you less than she hates everyone else."

On to the battle... The wildfire explosion was great. I think it was probably a good idea to forget the chain, since they couldn't really show the battle on the Blackwater Rush, as opposed to the bay (although I hope they figure out what to do with Bronn's coat of arms next season...) Of course, the chain kind of demonstrated Tyrion's overall plan for the battle, rather than just taking advantage of the alchemists, which makes what happens later a little less traumatic (but only a little.) I kind of wondered about the combination of green fire and regular fire in the later moments of the catastrophe, though. Was that an implication that the wildfire (the liquid) had burned out and the ships were still alight or was it a technical issue (i.e. not having enough funds to keep everything green)?

Stephen Dillane's look of calm self-assurance on the advance and near-feral grin at a couple points were great representations of Stannis' conviction that both the battle and the throne would be his ("We're too far from the gates. Their archers... Hundreds will die." "Thousands.") Even though the men on the field were, in fact, dozens or a couple hundred as opposed to thousands, I think they ended up representing the magnitude of the battle sufficiently. The choice of flaming arrows was a good dramatic touch, since the scene was taking place at night and it's tough to see arrows in the dark (even if flaming arrows aren't the best choice in "real world" situations.) I was disappointed that Tyrion's hill tribesmen weren't mentioned or seen at all, since they provided a rather important key to the way the battle turned in the books (allowing the Lannister/Tyrell force to approach without warning because the Baratheon scouts had all been killed by the tribesmen.) Strangely, they decided to replace their existence with their famous cheer of "Halfman!" when Tyrion led the initially successful sortie.

Stannis on the battlements was another of those nice touches, demonstrating his willingness to come to grips (literally) with his crusade. However, I was really questioning the head-slicing scene. The blood display was fine, but did they really want to spend that much money on CGI for that? Wouldn't it have been better to enhance some other aspect of the battle if the money was there? Like, say, showing even more horses in Tywin's charge into the fight (which, admittedly, was still a nice moment)? Given the changed circumstances of the fight and the time constraints, it was probably a good idea to eliminate the whole "Garlan Tyrell in Renly's armor"-thing, though. If they're worried about people confusing Asha and Osha, I can't imagine how they might have been fretting about viewers actually thinking that Renly was back from the dead. We had a brief enough glimpse of Ser Loras to be aware that the Tyrells were involved.

And then we come, of course, to the Hound. As most of my tiny audience probably knows by now, the Hound is my favorite character of the story. His cynical pragmatism (embodied in the title quote of the post) and outright savagery ("Any man dies with a clean sword, I'll rape his fucking corpse!" - line of the night) provide more truth about the world of Westeros than almost any other. I had kind of hoped for a bit more anxiety on the part of Rory McCann, as the outright terror that the character displays in the books is stark. Certainly, anyone is going to weave back with a torch waved in their face and it's not irrational to tell someone: "Any of those flaming fucking arrows come near me, I'll strangle you with your own guts!" But to be reduced to gibbering fear that doesn't allow for calm moments where you tell the king to fuck off is more of what I remember from the scene in Clash of Kings. It's that stark contrast that makes the character, to some degree. However, the lone San/San scene in Sansa's room was well played by both actors.


So, the wrap-up next week. Sad trombone. At least we'll finally see the House of the Undying and figure out if they're going to return to canon in the Daenerys storyline for next season.