Primrose Everdeen (Willow Shields) has nothing to worry about. At least, that's what her older sister Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) says. Primrose's name is only in the Reaping once - which means she has a very, very small chance of being selected to participate in the Hunger Games. But when the fateful day comes, Primrose's name is the one pulled out of the glass bowl. Katniss immediately volunteers to take her little sister's place. And, just like that, she and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) are whisked away from dirt-poor District 12 to the sparkling Capitol. In a few short days, they find themselves inside an arena with twenty-two other young men and women in a fight to the death - the Hunger Games. But Katniss is determined to come through alive. After all, she promised her sister that she would do everything she could to win.
A good movie adaptation should always try to stay close to its source material. Unfortunately, the definition of "close" can be disputed when the two media are as different as books and movies. But no matter what definition one uses, The Hunger Games movie is very close to the book.
After the text in the beginning of the movie explains the concept behind the Games, the intensity jumps in and completely takes over. Right from the outset, terror reigns supreme. Primrose is terrified of being chosen, and though Katniss gently comforts her, the overall impression of the scene is one of entrapment in a cruel, unfair situation with an undertone of fear. This continues throughout the movie, getting successively amped up as the story develops. Considering that the book has a similar level of intensity (though not as immediate), this was quite an achievement for the filmmakers.
The level of intensity is not the only similarity between the movie and the book. The story is virtually identical, which is to be expected when one considers that Suzanne Collins, the author, helped write the screenplay. However, the most startingly accurate part is the characters. The casting job was about as perfect as it could be. Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) is maybe a little better looking than I would have made him, but everybody else is pretty much spot-on. Jennifer Lawrence, one of the best actresses I have ever seen, is Katniss to a T. Josh Hutcherson is gentle Peeta - but with a masculine side that could easily have been left out. Liam Hemsworth plays a strong, rebellious Gale. Even Donald Sutherland is good in his part. (Of course, bad actors are particularly good at exuding insincerity, so don't go thinking that this is an Academy-Award-worthy performance.)
However, while the story and characters don't deviate one iota from the book, there are a few themes left by the wayside. For example, the Capitol still exerts complete (or nearly complete) control over its citizens. But the Capitol as a mysterious, almost omnipotent - and almost faceless - power just doesn't exist in the movie. Whereas in the book the leaders are seen by Katniss from afar and only occasionally, these same leaders have their own scenes in the movie. This lowers the creepy sense of "The Capitol" that makes it akin to "Them" or "The Others." In other words, the sense of a looming, unseen (and, therefore, unassessed) power is largely gone.
Generally, I like to watch movies before I read the books on which they're based. Because books are nearly always much better than their movies, I get to enjoy the same story twice without being disappointed by the second version. But this movie is very, very close to the book - and is therefore not a disappointment. Because of this, Suzanne Collins's The Hunger Games should be read before watching this movie. The book has much more depth - and explains things barely touched upon by the movie. On the other hand, while the movie doesn't quite live up to the book, it's still an enjoyable experience. That is, if your hands don't lock up after gripping the arms of your seat for two hours and twenty minutes.
Note: Since such a big deal has been made of it, I think I should address the issue of the violence. Is it too violent for a tweenager? Definitely. But I wouldn't go so far as to slap an "R" rating on it. There's a little blood, spears, necks broken by hands, and other kinds of violence. Much of it is hand-to-hand. But most of it is also filmed with a jerky camera or not quite seen. Because it doesn't have the same psychological terror associated with it, I would say that this movie is not as violent as The Dark Knight. But then, that's not saying a whole lot.
My Rating: T/MT (violence, intensity)
Showing posts with label t. Show all posts
Showing posts with label t. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Great Expectations (2011)
Pip (Douglas Booth) is a rather ordinary little boy. He lives with his sister and her husband, a blacksmith, and wants nothing more than to follow his brother-in-law into the trade. Then his entire life changes. First he encounters an escaped, chained convict named Magwitch (Ray Winstone), who makes Pip steal a file from the forge. He obliges out of fear, but he also brings along a piece of pie. Then Miss Havisham (Gillian Anderson), a great lady, asks him to her house to play with her adopted daughter Estella (Vanessa Kirby). Though his life may have been unexciting before, young Pip now has great expectations for the future.
This movie is very, very well done. Though a little dark and weird in the first hour (my sister says that grown Pip looks like a vampire in that part; I don't disagree), it brightens up with Pip's expectations. The acting, writing, and directing are all par with most British mini-series. In other words, they're fantastic. But even more than the production value, the filmmakers' decision to make it into a character study of nearly all the characters in the film makes it a worthwhile movie.
The entire focus of this version of Great Expectations is on the characters. It doesn't wallow in Pip's bad circumstances, and neither does it depict the story as a slow, painful descent into deeper and darker places. (In other words, it's nothing like the 1999 version with Ioan Gruffudd.) Instead, the filmmakers, sometimes lovingly and sometimes callously, push aside the well-known story in favor of the well-known but often neglected characters.
"Neglected" is not a word generally used to describe the character of Miss Havisham - even those who have not read the book know who she is. But any real complexity in her character seems to be overlooked in favor of the basic idea of her: She's a cold woman out for revenge on men. In contrast, this version of the film embodies her in an entirely different way. In this version, she is a woman whose anger never really allowed her to grow up. Her high-pitched voice, curled hair, thin body, and nervous habits together help to create the impression that she is a child possessed by childish rage. For another example, the sneaking, evil Orlick (Jack Roth) is small, thin, and looks almost like a wild animal - a wild animal tired of being chained and mocked. Pip looks the very picture of innocent youth. The list could go on, I believe, until every character in the movie has been listed.
The material point, to put it in the immortal words of I-don't-remember-which-BBC-movie-character, is that Great Expectations is about its people. There's certainly a story (complete with the requisite Dickens twists), but the story is dependent on the characters' choices and interactions, not the other way around. Ultimately, the point of Great Expectations is to show which people are, at heart, good and which are bad. Who can receive redemption, and whose heart is simply too black to even want it? Who is willing to change to receive it? You'll have to watch the movie to find out.
Note: Since I haven't read the book in years, I can't comment on how faithful this movie is. I've heard that it's not particularly close to Dickens' original - so purists beware!
My Rating: T (mild sexual content, sexual references, spooky images)
This movie is very, very well done. Though a little dark and weird in the first hour (my sister says that grown Pip looks like a vampire in that part; I don't disagree), it brightens up with Pip's expectations. The acting, writing, and directing are all par with most British mini-series. In other words, they're fantastic. But even more than the production value, the filmmakers' decision to make it into a character study of nearly all the characters in the film makes it a worthwhile movie.
The entire focus of this version of Great Expectations is on the characters. It doesn't wallow in Pip's bad circumstances, and neither does it depict the story as a slow, painful descent into deeper and darker places. (In other words, it's nothing like the 1999 version with Ioan Gruffudd.) Instead, the filmmakers, sometimes lovingly and sometimes callously, push aside the well-known story in favor of the well-known but often neglected characters.
"Neglected" is not a word generally used to describe the character of Miss Havisham - even those who have not read the book know who she is. But any real complexity in her character seems to be overlooked in favor of the basic idea of her: She's a cold woman out for revenge on men. In contrast, this version of the film embodies her in an entirely different way. In this version, she is a woman whose anger never really allowed her to grow up. Her high-pitched voice, curled hair, thin body, and nervous habits together help to create the impression that she is a child possessed by childish rage. For another example, the sneaking, evil Orlick (Jack Roth) is small, thin, and looks almost like a wild animal - a wild animal tired of being chained and mocked. Pip looks the very picture of innocent youth. The list could go on, I believe, until every character in the movie has been listed.
The material point, to put it in the immortal words of I-don't-remember-which-BBC-movie-character, is that Great Expectations is about its people. There's certainly a story (complete with the requisite Dickens twists), but the story is dependent on the characters' choices and interactions, not the other way around. Ultimately, the point of Great Expectations is to show which people are, at heart, good and which are bad. Who can receive redemption, and whose heart is simply too black to even want it? Who is willing to change to receive it? You'll have to watch the movie to find out.
Note: Since I haven't read the book in years, I can't comment on how faithful this movie is. I've heard that it's not particularly close to Dickens' original - so purists beware!
My Rating: T (mild sexual content, sexual references, spooky images)
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
The Madonna's Secret (1946)
James Corbin (Francis Lederer) has a deep, dark secret. Two, actually. The first is that the woman in his paintings is not his model, Helen North (Linda Stirling). The body might be, but the face is the face of a woman from his past. The second is that his name is not really Corbin. It's Corbet. The rather infamous Corbet who was tried for and acquitted of murdering his first model - the woman in his paintings. Then Helen turns up dead on the river and the questions begin again. Determined to discover his secrets, Helen's actress sister named Linda (Ann Rutherford) gets herself hired as Corbin's latest model. As time goes on, she finds herself stepping deeper and deeper into murky waters. What kind of man is this brooding, talented artist? Is he a murderer? Or is some unknown enemy trying to frame him?
This is a fairly impressive movie, considering when it was filmed. The production values are decent. It seems to be an odd sort of cross between the film noir genre and an Agatha Christie story. Definitely dark, dramatic, and a little bit of a psychological thriller in parts, it still manages to hold onto a bit of the good old-fashioned mystery story.
Taken as a forties B movie, the acting and especially the writing are pretty good. Lederer plays a marvelous Corbin (with the exception of a few rather strangely-directed scenes), and Rutherford pulls off sweet and spunky Linda better than a lot of actresses I've seen. The exposition is particularly well done. In general, conversations reveal only as much as the viewer needs to know. On top of that, I never felt like I was listening to a voice-over. (Well, except for the opening line. But that really is a voice-over.) The Madonna's Secret shows the story as it is without taking the time to make sure everybody knows exactly what's going on at all times. That's part of the charm of the film noir genre: One can never be too sure that one didn't miss something important.
The other film noir elements in this movie are pretty obvious. It's dark, with a conflicted main character (who may or may not be bad) and a girl who ultimately finds herself in over her head. There's also a sexy temptress and, of course, crime in the mix. But the crime part is also a bit like an Agatha Christie murder mystery as well. Clues are established as to who might be killing these girls, but these clues are subtle enough that they don't construct neon signs pointing to the murderer. (At least, I hope not. I totally missed them until the last scene of the movie. Of course, that could be because I didn't want to think that that person was the murderer. But I'd better shut up now; that's getting into spoiler territory.)
Judged by the standards of its peers (both in time and in genre), this movie is pretty decent. The production values are impressively high for such an old and evidently cheap movie, and the slight mixing of genres is interesting and well-done enough to earn The Madonna's Secret a spot on the list of old movies that are worth someone's time.
My Rating: T (frightening scenes, thematic elements)
This is a fairly impressive movie, considering when it was filmed. The production values are decent. It seems to be an odd sort of cross between the film noir genre and an Agatha Christie story. Definitely dark, dramatic, and a little bit of a psychological thriller in parts, it still manages to hold onto a bit of the good old-fashioned mystery story.
Taken as a forties B movie, the acting and especially the writing are pretty good. Lederer plays a marvelous Corbin (with the exception of a few rather strangely-directed scenes), and Rutherford pulls off sweet and spunky Linda better than a lot of actresses I've seen. The exposition is particularly well done. In general, conversations reveal only as much as the viewer needs to know. On top of that, I never felt like I was listening to a voice-over. (Well, except for the opening line. But that really is a voice-over.) The Madonna's Secret shows the story as it is without taking the time to make sure everybody knows exactly what's going on at all times. That's part of the charm of the film noir genre: One can never be too sure that one didn't miss something important.
The other film noir elements in this movie are pretty obvious. It's dark, with a conflicted main character (who may or may not be bad) and a girl who ultimately finds herself in over her head. There's also a sexy temptress and, of course, crime in the mix. But the crime part is also a bit like an Agatha Christie murder mystery as well. Clues are established as to who might be killing these girls, but these clues are subtle enough that they don't construct neon signs pointing to the murderer. (At least, I hope not. I totally missed them until the last scene of the movie. Of course, that could be because I didn't want to think that that person was the murderer. But I'd better shut up now; that's getting into spoiler territory.)
Judged by the standards of its peers (both in time and in genre), this movie is pretty decent. The production values are impressively high for such an old and evidently cheap movie, and the slight mixing of genres is interesting and well-done enough to earn The Madonna's Secret a spot on the list of old movies that are worth someone's time.
My Rating: T (frightening scenes, thematic elements)
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Onegin (1999)
Onegin (Ralph Fiennes) is a lonely, bored, spoilt aristocrat. He has no real friends, a cash supply that can no longer support his decadent lifestyle, and absolutely no goals in life. Then his uncle dies and leaves him an inheritance that includes both money and a country estate. Onegin leaves St. Petersburg for this estate - and, once there, decides to stay. Suddenly life seems better. He makes a close friend and meets a beautiful young lady named Natalya (Liv Tyler). Can a man ever really change? Or does a long life of sophistication and pride leave him without the backbone to alter his future?
This movie really hasn't much story development. At least, compared with the five to eight hour masterpieces made by the BBC. Suffice it to say that the novel on which Onegin is based was written in verse - and that this is highly appropriate in light of the poetic justice that is meted out at the end. Choices - some good and some bad - are paramount. This is true with the choices made by the filmmakers as well.
Onegin moves at a dreamlike pace in parts. The movie is really only about an hour and forty-five minutes long, but it seems much longer. This is helped in part by the frequent use of slow-motion filming. In general, slow motion should not be used in movies. It jerks the viewer out of the movie and into his/her seat and lends a very melodramatic atmosphere to whatever scene upon which it has been inflicted. The slow motion in Onegin, on the other hand, is sometimes used in good taste. Feelings like boredom and despair are portrayed well by the use of slow motion. But the technique is used too frequently, and it becomes evident that slow motion is being used to create the illusion of a longer movie.
Having said all that, one of the most redeeming qualities of the movie is that it is visually quite pretty. The filmmakes chose Liv Tyler as the lead female role. Normally a bad actress and a bit strange looking, she fits Tatyana's part perfectly and is absolutely gorgeous. Her clothes and hair are stunning throughout the movie. She shines particularly brightly in the last few scenes of the movie, when her hair is not as severely twisted and her clothes are richer in color and texture. The choice of setting is very pretty as well. The Russian countryside is beautiful in both the winter and summer scenes.
Finally, the filmmakers chose to convey as much as possible visually and through dialogues that would naturally take place. For example, we see rather than are told that Onegin is a ladies' man (although I personally think this could have been left out, it's handled rather delicately). Later, Tatyana speaks of her troubles to no one, but what passes through her mind is evident by what she does (again, this could have been skipped or shown in a more family-friendly way). This is a good approach for a filmmaker to take. There are few things in movies that are more cringe-inducing than when unnatural dialogue, which would never have taken place in real life, is used to explain to the viewer certain plots developments. Like slow motion filming, such unnatural dialogue almost inevitably tears the viewer from the story.
In all, Onegin is a strange mixture of good and bad choices. This is evident in the story (which I will not reveal for spoiler reasons), but it is also evident in the way in which the filmmakers made the movie. The slow motion is sometimes effective - and sometimes not. The use of "show, don't tell" is effective - but also a bit risqué. In other words, it's a flawed but interesting movie, perfect for anyone willing to spend a slice of time on watching the consequences of choice.
My Rating: MT (bedroom scene between a man and wife, sexual content, sexual references , violence)
Note: Could be appropriate for younger teens if a few scenes are skipped
This movie really hasn't much story development. At least, compared with the five to eight hour masterpieces made by the BBC. Suffice it to say that the novel on which Onegin is based was written in verse - and that this is highly appropriate in light of the poetic justice that is meted out at the end. Choices - some good and some bad - are paramount. This is true with the choices made by the filmmakers as well.
Onegin moves at a dreamlike pace in parts. The movie is really only about an hour and forty-five minutes long, but it seems much longer. This is helped in part by the frequent use of slow-motion filming. In general, slow motion should not be used in movies. It jerks the viewer out of the movie and into his/her seat and lends a very melodramatic atmosphere to whatever scene upon which it has been inflicted. The slow motion in Onegin, on the other hand, is sometimes used in good taste. Feelings like boredom and despair are portrayed well by the use of slow motion. But the technique is used too frequently, and it becomes evident that slow motion is being used to create the illusion of a longer movie.
Having said all that, one of the most redeeming qualities of the movie is that it is visually quite pretty. The filmmakes chose Liv Tyler as the lead female role. Normally a bad actress and a bit strange looking, she fits Tatyana's part perfectly and is absolutely gorgeous. Her clothes and hair are stunning throughout the movie. She shines particularly brightly in the last few scenes of the movie, when her hair is not as severely twisted and her clothes are richer in color and texture. The choice of setting is very pretty as well. The Russian countryside is beautiful in both the winter and summer scenes.
Finally, the filmmakers chose to convey as much as possible visually and through dialogues that would naturally take place. For example, we see rather than are told that Onegin is a ladies' man (although I personally think this could have been left out, it's handled rather delicately). Later, Tatyana speaks of her troubles to no one, but what passes through her mind is evident by what she does (again, this could have been skipped or shown in a more family-friendly way). This is a good approach for a filmmaker to take. There are few things in movies that are more cringe-inducing than when unnatural dialogue, which would never have taken place in real life, is used to explain to the viewer certain plots developments. Like slow motion filming, such unnatural dialogue almost inevitably tears the viewer from the story.
In all, Onegin is a strange mixture of good and bad choices. This is evident in the story (which I will not reveal for spoiler reasons), but it is also evident in the way in which the filmmakers made the movie. The slow motion is sometimes effective - and sometimes not. The use of "show, don't tell" is effective - but also a bit risqué. In other words, it's a flawed but interesting movie, perfect for anyone willing to spend a slice of time on watching the consequences of choice.
My Rating: MT (bedroom scene between a man and wife, sexual content, sexual references , violence)
Note: Could be appropriate for younger teens if a few scenes are skipped
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Pertaining To Mockingjay
(Written by Suzanne Collins. Book Three in the Hunger Games Trilogy.) *Book II spoilers throughout* Katniss Everdeen has a decision to make. She survived the Hunger Games for a second time, with the help of Peeta and other victors. Now she has been rescued by the people of District 13, who have lived underground since the end of the war. President Coin of 13 wants her to become the Mockingjay: The symbolic leader of the revolution. But Katniss only cares about Peeta. Sweet, strong Peeta whose life she had been determined to save during the second Hunger Games, but who was captured by the Capitol. Then he appears in an interview on television and calls for a cease-fire - a sure sign of betrayal to many rebels. Katniss believes the only way she can save him is to agree to be the Mockingjay on condition that he be pardoned after the war. She has no idea what she's about to get into.
Where to start? This is a very, very disappointing Act III to what began as a very good story. The connections between the Capitol and Ancient Rome (something only vaguely hinted at in the first two books) are strengthened. It is well-written, and there's enough action to keep the book exciting. Those are about the only things I liked.
First, Katniss's character devolved into an even worse one than when she started in Book I. This, after growing into a better person in Book II. Throughout Mockingjay, she seems to have become more compassionate and more loving than she had been previously. But three decisions she makes toward the end of the book are, quite simply, cold-blooded and inexcusable.
Second, I did not like the portrayal of District 13. More specifically, I didn't like the portrayal of those fighting for District 13. Gale, President Coin, and Plutarch are the ones in charge, and none of them are ultimately shown to be very good people. President Coin, in particular, is depicted as monstrous (though this is never confirmed explicitly). This is outright slop, and I'll bet it was directed at the Bush administration. With the ending, the implication of the entire series is that no war is justly fought. The rebels had good reason to fight; it was definitely a just war. But the way in which they went about fighting was wrong, at least at the end. Translation: The message is that both sides in war are evil. This is especially offensive given that the story hints at the Revolutionary War - thirteen districts run by an out-of-touch, seemingly impregnable capitol that views the districts as suppliers. Then the new president commits an atrocity like the one Coin ppresumably orders? George Washington would have been horrified. What really ticks me off, however, is that there is absolutely no reason why it should be that way. Story-wise, there is no real reason why things had to end as they did. No reason except one of anti-war, anti-American sentiment.
Then there is Peeta's character. *Spoiler Warning* He has been "hijacked" by the Capitol (I'm sure there's another message in that term, but I can't figure out what it is). Throughout much of the book, he thinks Katniss is evil and tries to kill her periodically. I find this extremely offensive as well. Peeta was the one that no one could touch; the one whose unwavering strength and devotion were lights amidst the darkness. Then, all of a sudden, the Capitol plants these false, evil memories in his mind and he becomes crazy enough to try to murder Katniss in cold blood? Even if his memories could be altered so that he remembers her as an evil being, Peeta wouldn't try to kill her with his bare hands. It's totally out of character. Then he randomly recovers near the end, with very little explanation or description of his journey. Having said that, he loves Katniss as much at the end as he ever did. He remains a bright spot - that wavers somewhat - in the midst of a dark story. *End of Spoiler*
So, basically, this book ends with an anti-war, vaguely anti-American (aren't those terms synonymous by now?) message, and the main character is less likeable than she was at the beginning of the series. However, Peeta remains a strong character (with a blip - but that's so unbelievable I hardly count it), and it was well written from a pure dialogue and description standpoint.
My Rating: T (brutal violence, psychological warfare, sexual references)
Reviews of Similar Books:
Where to start? This is a very, very disappointing Act III to what began as a very good story. The connections between the Capitol and Ancient Rome (something only vaguely hinted at in the first two books) are strengthened. It is well-written, and there's enough action to keep the book exciting. Those are about the only things I liked.
First, Katniss's character devolved into an even worse one than when she started in Book I. This, after growing into a better person in Book II. Throughout Mockingjay, she seems to have become more compassionate and more loving than she had been previously. But three decisions she makes toward the end of the book are, quite simply, cold-blooded and inexcusable.
Second, I did not like the portrayal of District 13. More specifically, I didn't like the portrayal of those fighting for District 13. Gale, President Coin, and Plutarch are the ones in charge, and none of them are ultimately shown to be very good people. President Coin, in particular, is depicted as monstrous (though this is never confirmed explicitly). This is outright slop, and I'll bet it was directed at the Bush administration. With the ending, the implication of the entire series is that no war is justly fought. The rebels had good reason to fight; it was definitely a just war. But the way in which they went about fighting was wrong, at least at the end. Translation: The message is that both sides in war are evil. This is especially offensive given that the story hints at the Revolutionary War - thirteen districts run by an out-of-touch, seemingly impregnable capitol that views the districts as suppliers. Then the new president commits an atrocity like the one Coin ppresumably orders? George Washington would have been horrified. What really ticks me off, however, is that there is absolutely no reason why it should be that way. Story-wise, there is no real reason why things had to end as they did. No reason except one of anti-war, anti-American sentiment.
Then there is Peeta's character. *Spoiler Warning* He has been "hijacked" by the Capitol (I'm sure there's another message in that term, but I can't figure out what it is). Throughout much of the book, he thinks Katniss is evil and tries to kill her periodically. I find this extremely offensive as well. Peeta was the one that no one could touch; the one whose unwavering strength and devotion were lights amidst the darkness. Then, all of a sudden, the Capitol plants these false, evil memories in his mind and he becomes crazy enough to try to murder Katniss in cold blood? Even if his memories could be altered so that he remembers her as an evil being, Peeta wouldn't try to kill her with his bare hands. It's totally out of character. Then he randomly recovers near the end, with very little explanation or description of his journey. Having said that, he loves Katniss as much at the end as he ever did. He remains a bright spot - that wavers somewhat - in the midst of a dark story. *End of Spoiler*
So, basically, this book ends with an anti-war, vaguely anti-American (aren't those terms synonymous by now?) message, and the main character is less likeable than she was at the beginning of the series. However, Peeta remains a strong character (with a blip - but that's so unbelievable I hardly count it), and it was well written from a pure dialogue and description standpoint.
My Rating: T (brutal violence, psychological warfare, sexual references)
Reviews of Similar Books:
- The Hunger Games (book I) and Catching Fire (book II)
- Airman
- Incarceron
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
In Relation To Catching Fire
(Written by Suzanne Collins. Book Two in the Hunger Games trilogy.) Having survived the Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen is now adored by people all over Panem - particularly the citizens in the Capitol. There are only two problems: First, she can't seem to shake the Games from her life. They linger in her dreams and keep her apart from Gale, her old friend who might just be something more. Second, President Snow thinks Katniss is dangerous. If anyone in the districts thinks she was directly defying the Capitol with her final act in the Games, she might just be the cause of a rebellion. So Katniss is left in a position every bit as dangerous as the one she held in the Games - perhaps more so, because her life isn't the only thing on the line.
The first book in this trilogy developed the setting: The way North America will be X years from now. Guessing that the government will have taken over and that people will be grossly self-absorbed, The Hunger Games could be seen as a cautionary tale or a philosophical exercise. The second book delves more deeply into Katniss and, unfortunately, also focuses more on the romantic storyline.
In this book, Katniss develops a strong sense of responsibility and honor. The first book depicts her as pretty selfish and self-centered at times. She has had to fight for her survival and the survival of her family for so long that she has forgotten what it means to be honorable. In the second book, however, she discovers that a lot more than her family and her own life hinges on her choices. Because she has evidently been the cause of uprisings, widespread bloodshed and death might come on the heels of any decision that she makes. Additionally, she develops a high sense of honor and a strong protective instinct that she only hints at in the first book. She will not harm anyone who has helped her in some way, nor will she harm anyone who is too weak to protect him or herself.
Since the focus of Catching Fire is on Katniss and her development (as well as setting the stage for the third book... but I don't want to spoil anything), the book naturally takes a look at her romantic feelings. *Book 1 Spoiler Warning* Does she love Gale? Does she love Peeta? Does the reader need to know every little nuance of her complex relationship with him? While Peeta's sleeping in her bed to comfort her after nightmares is a little sweet, it's also highly dangerous - what is known as "a near occasion of sin." Katniss obviously has no interest in taking the relationship farther than their fake love on the screen and their real friendship off of it. However, it's still uncomfortable. Then there's Gale, who might be a red herring. He completes the love triangle, which is fairly solid from a character interaction standpoint - Katniss is definitely appealing, Peeta is the sort of loving, sweet man that most girls dream of, and Gale has been Katniss's best friend for years. But Gale is in the books very little (at least so far), which makes the love triangle existent mostly in Katniss's thoughts. In fact, it seems to pop up mostly when she tells herself that she won't think about it. This makes the romantic triangle an annoying sideshow that, at times, threatens to engulf the story. *End of Book 1 Spoiler*
The Hunger Games trilogy got off to a fantastic start with the first book. The second one, although it moves Katniss's character farther along its arc, tends to get lost a bit in the romantic triangle and in various other storylines. In short, it seems very much like an intermission between Act I and Act III. Having said that, Act III looks promising, if only because Katniss seems to be moving along from a girl with only the will to survive to someone concerned with honor and the protection of the weak.
My Rating: T (sexual content and references, violence)
Review of the third book, Mockingjay
Reviews of similar books:
The first book in this trilogy developed the setting: The way North America will be X years from now. Guessing that the government will have taken over and that people will be grossly self-absorbed, The Hunger Games could be seen as a cautionary tale or a philosophical exercise. The second book delves more deeply into Katniss and, unfortunately, also focuses more on the romantic storyline.
In this book, Katniss develops a strong sense of responsibility and honor. The first book depicts her as pretty selfish and self-centered at times. She has had to fight for her survival and the survival of her family for so long that she has forgotten what it means to be honorable. In the second book, however, she discovers that a lot more than her family and her own life hinges on her choices. Because she has evidently been the cause of uprisings, widespread bloodshed and death might come on the heels of any decision that she makes. Additionally, she develops a high sense of honor and a strong protective instinct that she only hints at in the first book. She will not harm anyone who has helped her in some way, nor will she harm anyone who is too weak to protect him or herself.
Since the focus of Catching Fire is on Katniss and her development (as well as setting the stage for the third book... but I don't want to spoil anything), the book naturally takes a look at her romantic feelings. *Book 1 Spoiler Warning* Does she love Gale? Does she love Peeta? Does the reader need to know every little nuance of her complex relationship with him? While Peeta's sleeping in her bed to comfort her after nightmares is a little sweet, it's also highly dangerous - what is known as "a near occasion of sin." Katniss obviously has no interest in taking the relationship farther than their fake love on the screen and their real friendship off of it. However, it's still uncomfortable. Then there's Gale, who might be a red herring. He completes the love triangle, which is fairly solid from a character interaction standpoint - Katniss is definitely appealing, Peeta is the sort of loving, sweet man that most girls dream of, and Gale has been Katniss's best friend for years. But Gale is in the books very little (at least so far), which makes the love triangle existent mostly in Katniss's thoughts. In fact, it seems to pop up mostly when she tells herself that she won't think about it. This makes the romantic triangle an annoying sideshow that, at times, threatens to engulf the story. *End of Book 1 Spoiler*
The Hunger Games trilogy got off to a fantastic start with the first book. The second one, although it moves Katniss's character farther along its arc, tends to get lost a bit in the romantic triangle and in various other storylines. In short, it seems very much like an intermission between Act I and Act III. Having said that, Act III looks promising, if only because Katniss seems to be moving along from a girl with only the will to survive to someone concerned with honor and the protection of the weak.
My Rating: T (sexual content and references, violence)
Review of the third book, Mockingjay
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Wednesday, November 23, 2011
On The Hunger Games
(Written by Suzanne Collins.) Katniss Everdeen is a survivor. She has cared for her mother and her little sister ever since her father died. Back when she was a little girl. Before near starvation and the need to hunt animals robbed her of her childhood. Now she has to survive the annual Reaping Day - the day where one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be picked to fight in the Hunger Games. The "Games" where two people from each district of Panem, twenty-four "tributes" in all, will fight to the death. But Katniss's name is not pulled out of the glass bowl. Her younger sister Prim's is. So Katniss reacts like any protective, loving sister should - she jumps forward and volunteers to take Prim's place.
A reviewer quoted on the back of The Hunger Games declares that philosophy can be found within the pages of the book. Though all books contain some sort of philosophy merely because they have words put together in a (somewhat) meaningful manner, this book has a little more deliberately philosophical look at the modern world. Set in North America sometime in the future, it is a commentary on the way our culture seems to be heading - downhill. The good characters, while they don't stick to stereotypes, stick closely to an ideal that our culture, helped by feminists on the warpath, is speeding away from at an alarming rate. But this presentation of goodness is tempered with two searing attacks on evil.
The relationship between Katniss and Peeta is odd, but that is more a compliment than a criticism. With a strong heroine and a strange tendency to end male characters' names with an "a," The Hunger Games hinted that perhaps Katniss would end up saving Peeta, the main male character (I can't call him a hero yet because I haven't read the other two books in the series and he has a rival). Now, there is nothing wrong with the girl saving the guy, as long as it does not constitute an inversion of gender roles. That is, the heroine can save the hero through feminine means (wiles, love, etc.), but she should not save his life in battle through her physical prowess. But there is no inversion of gender roles in this book - just a switch in story roles. Katniss is definitely the heroine and the main character, with Peeta taking an unassuming spot in her shadow. But he is strong in his own right, and spends much of the book looking out for her. In fact, their relationship is refreshingly reciprocal, with each saving the other at different times and through different means.
Now to the depiction of evil. There are two noteworthy lessons in The Hunger Games; a lesson on an unhealthy obsession with beauty and youth, and a lesson on a large, overbearing government. First, the people in the Capitol - the ones who live high on the hog while the rest of Panem starves - are addicted to beauty and youth. People have countless surgeries to keep themselves looking young. They reject fatness as ugly, and have a strange, bright sense of fashion. (Picture Lady Gaga and you have a pretty good idea of what people in the Capitol think is beautiful.) There is almost nothing they can't do when it comes to personal appearance, and they choose to use the technology at their disposal to make themselves fit the ideal of beauty. But those who participate wholeheartedly in this idea are self-absorbed and, frankly, stupid. Caught in the cages of their self-absorption, the ones most obsessed with their appearances are those who are most clueless about what it means to be a good person. Thus, they are portrayed as shallow.
Second, the government, which is a threat to the people of Panem because of its power, is portrayed as evil. So many books and movies nowadays seek to pit the rich against the poor. Some of these stories even offer some form of government as a remedy to the inequalities of wealth. While the government can and should regulate society and the economy to some extent, it can become over powerful and oppressive. It is not the answer to all societal ills or even, I daresay, most of them. The Hunger Games embraces this idea and indicts both the rich, who live clueless, self-absorbed lives in the Capitol, and the government, which oppresses those in the twelve districts. Both the controlling government and the rich are portrayed as bad, but only the government is shown as a real threat. Now, I haven't read the other two books in the trilogy yet, so I can't guarantee that the end won't produce some rich businessman or other pulling the government's strings. But so far, at least, the government is portrayed more as a threat than a savior.
This isn't to say that the good characters are always good. Katniss makes a few questionable moral decisions, and some of the other good characters have definite flaws. But flaws allow for moral development in the characters - and sometimes the portrayals with the most contrast between good and evil rest in a character's realization that something he or she did was wrong.
In the end, the people are what matter to good characters in The Hunger Games. Katniss goes to what she believes is certain death in order to save her younger sister. Peeta nearly loses his life protecting Katniss. Even the odd Cinna, who designs Katniss's costumes for the opening ceremonies, is portrayed as good because of his obvious compassion for her. On the other hand, evil is sometimes portrayed as brutally violent, sometimes as subtly oppressive, but always as manipulative, cold, and self-absorbed. The Hunger Games asks and answers the question of what will happen if our culture continues to careen in the direction it is currently heading. The conclusion is not pretty, but it is sound.
My Rating: T (violence, sexual references, murky moral decisions)
Review of the second book, Catching Fire
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In the end, the people are what matter to good characters in The Hunger Games. Katniss goes to what she believes is certain death in order to save her younger sister. Peeta nearly loses his life protecting Katniss. Even the odd Cinna, who designs Katniss's costumes for the opening ceremonies, is portrayed as good because of his obvious compassion for her. On the other hand, evil is sometimes portrayed as brutally violent, sometimes as subtly oppressive, but always as manipulative, cold, and self-absorbed. The Hunger Games asks and answers the question of what will happen if our culture continues to careen in the direction it is currently heading. The conclusion is not pretty, but it is sound.
My Rating: T (violence, sexual references, murky moral decisions)
Review of the second book, Catching Fire
Reviews of similar books:
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Pertaining To Captain America: The First Avenger
Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is an ordinary guy. Except for his asthma and other health difficulties. And his weight - about one hundred pounds, and he's a grown man. But the thing that really sets him apart is his heart. Far more courageous than he should be given his physical stature, he would do anything to join in WWII over in Europe. Even lie on his enlistment form, which he does with regularity only to be turned down because of his health. Then one day, Dr. Erskine (Stanley Tucci), a researcher for the United States military, offers Steve a chance to help his country. The little guy jumps at the opportunity. But when something goes wrong and he is relegated to selling war bonds and making propaganda movies, he thinks he may have gotten less than he bargained for.
This movie is awesome. The special effects are stunning (more so in the theater than on DVD), it's well-written, humorous, and has a sweet romance. The characters are not only likeable - they're lovable. It's also actually pro-America. But the thing I like the most is the old-fashioned feel.
The presence of World War II probably added to this feel. Setting the story in this time period helped to avoid the usual pitfalls of so-so modern movies: Dated jokes. There's also a simplicity in the story that hasn't been in any other superhero movies I've seen. (And I've seen twelve.) The good guys are genuine good guys (every one), and the bad guys are genuine bad guys (every one). The bad guy wants to conquer the world. The good guy wants to save it. So far, extremely simple and very much like a classic movie.
But what ultimately makes Captain America a throw-back is its similarity to the rousing speeches that heroes used to make in war movies. If you've seen a movie made about WWII during WWII you'll know what I mean. In the climax scene of every one of these movies I've seen, the hero is confronted by the villain. It seems as if all hope is lost. But the hero tells the villain that, while good has lost this battle against evil, evil cannot conquer good. That the Nazi agenda is too evil, too brutal to ultimately win. When one man goes down, three more take his place. When the stakes are high, someone or a group of someones step in and win the battle against evil, at least for a time. That is the final impression of Captain America. Steve is the only one who can defeat the Red Skull (Hugo Weaving), but his help is not needed to win WWII. *Spoiler Warning* Though he is lost to the world by the end, the Allies march on to victory against the Nazis. Evil has been defeated, but not for want of victories. That was the message of old WWII movies, and that is a message of Captain America. *End of Spoiler*
The first Iron Man movie is probably the best superhero movie I've ever seen. But Captain America is my favorite. Pro-America, lovable characters, well-written, cool, and with a sense of the old-fashioned, good ol' movie about it, it's a more familiar, sympathetic movie than Iron Man. Even better, the ultimate triumph of good over evil, though it comes with great cost, is clearly seen.
My Rating: T (violence, thematic elements, vague sexual references)
Reviews of similar movies:
This movie is awesome. The special effects are stunning (more so in the theater than on DVD), it's well-written, humorous, and has a sweet romance. The characters are not only likeable - they're lovable. It's also actually pro-America. But the thing I like the most is the old-fashioned feel.
The presence of World War II probably added to this feel. Setting the story in this time period helped to avoid the usual pitfalls of so-so modern movies: Dated jokes. There's also a simplicity in the story that hasn't been in any other superhero movies I've seen. (And I've seen twelve.) The good guys are genuine good guys (every one), and the bad guys are genuine bad guys (every one). The bad guy wants to conquer the world. The good guy wants to save it. So far, extremely simple and very much like a classic movie.
But what ultimately makes Captain America a throw-back is its similarity to the rousing speeches that heroes used to make in war movies. If you've seen a movie made about WWII during WWII you'll know what I mean. In the climax scene of every one of these movies I've seen, the hero is confronted by the villain. It seems as if all hope is lost. But the hero tells the villain that, while good has lost this battle against evil, evil cannot conquer good. That the Nazi agenda is too evil, too brutal to ultimately win. When one man goes down, three more take his place. When the stakes are high, someone or a group of someones step in and win the battle against evil, at least for a time. That is the final impression of Captain America. Steve is the only one who can defeat the Red Skull (Hugo Weaving), but his help is not needed to win WWII. *Spoiler Warning* Though he is lost to the world by the end, the Allies march on to victory against the Nazis. Evil has been defeated, but not for want of victories. That was the message of old WWII movies, and that is a message of Captain America. *End of Spoiler*
The first Iron Man movie is probably the best superhero movie I've ever seen. But Captain America is my favorite. Pro-America, lovable characters, well-written, cool, and with a sense of the old-fashioned, good ol' movie about it, it's a more familiar, sympathetic movie than Iron Man. Even better, the ultimate triumph of good over evil, though it comes with great cost, is clearly seen.
My Rating: T (violence, thematic elements, vague sexual references)
Reviews of similar movies:
- X-Men: First Class
- Spider-Man: First, Second, and Third
- Thor
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Concerning He Knew He Was Right
(Based on the book by Anthony Trollope.) Louis Trevelyan (Oliver Dimsdale) is a happily married man. He has a beautiful, spirited young wife named Emily (Laura Fraser) and an adorable son. But, as he tells his good friend Hugh Stanbury (Stephen Campbell Moore), marriage isn't always a bed of roses. In fact, Louis is very worried about his marriage. Emily's godfather Colonel Osborne (Bill Nighy) has been seeing a lot of her lately. He's known for dallying about with married women, and Emily is so inexperienced in society. Of course, Louis doesn't really suspect her of doing anything wrong. But then, Colonel Osborne seems to have a way with women...
Yes, the main storyline is incredibly depressing. Louis and Emily split very early in the four-hour movie, and Louis deteriorates as the hours march on. But this movie is made worthwhile by the side characters and the humor.
First and foremost comes Dorothy Stanbury (Caroline Martin), Hugh's sister. She's the sweetest, nicest girl one could ever hope to meet. To perfect her character, she's not particularly pretty. Beautiful women are all right in movies, but every once in a while it's nice to see one that is realistically nice-looking. There are other likeable side characters as well. Hugh comes to mind, and, to a certain extent, Emily's sister Nora (Christina Cole). Others, unfortunately, have too little screen time to make the list.
Then there are the funny side characters. Reverand Thomas Gibson (David Tennant) is absolutely hilarious. He's awkward and has no sense of humor whatsoever. Best of all, he's got a great propensity to get himself into bad situations, but no courage to get himself out. Equally funny are the sisters that both have their eyes on him - the French girls, Camilla (Claudie Blakley) and Arabella (Fenella Woolgar). Their scenes with him and with their mother are very, very funny. Then there's Miss Stanbury (Anna Massey), Dorothy and Hugh's aunt. She's a stiff sort of highly religious woman who likes to boss everyone around, but tends to make snap judgments about things.
The only downsides to this movie are: The somewhat unfavorable protrayal of religious characters, the main storyline, and a nerve-jangling American woman who pops up everyone once in a while. Ugh, just the thought of her painfully bad imitation American accent is enough to send even a strong-stomached person into a tailspin. I think the actress imitated a Canadian accent instead of an American one - I've seen a Canadian television show wherein some of the characters had similar accents. Whatever the reason, she does not sound like a genuine American.
Fortunately, with the exception of the main storyline, the annoying parts of the movie are fairly ignorable. The writing, costumes, and acting are wonderful, and so many characters are either likeable, funny, or even both. He Knew He Was Right is definitely worth the four hours if you are a British mini-series fan.
My Rating: T (marriage disintigration, thematic elements, child kidnapped by its father)
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Yes, the main storyline is incredibly depressing. Louis and Emily split very early in the four-hour movie, and Louis deteriorates as the hours march on. But this movie is made worthwhile by the side characters and the humor.
First and foremost comes Dorothy Stanbury (Caroline Martin), Hugh's sister. She's the sweetest, nicest girl one could ever hope to meet. To perfect her character, she's not particularly pretty. Beautiful women are all right in movies, but every once in a while it's nice to see one that is realistically nice-looking. There are other likeable side characters as well. Hugh comes to mind, and, to a certain extent, Emily's sister Nora (Christina Cole). Others, unfortunately, have too little screen time to make the list.
Then there are the funny side characters. Reverand Thomas Gibson (David Tennant) is absolutely hilarious. He's awkward and has no sense of humor whatsoever. Best of all, he's got a great propensity to get himself into bad situations, but no courage to get himself out. Equally funny are the sisters that both have their eyes on him - the French girls, Camilla (Claudie Blakley) and Arabella (Fenella Woolgar). Their scenes with him and with their mother are very, very funny. Then there's Miss Stanbury (Anna Massey), Dorothy and Hugh's aunt. She's a stiff sort of highly religious woman who likes to boss everyone around, but tends to make snap judgments about things.
The only downsides to this movie are: The somewhat unfavorable protrayal of religious characters, the main storyline, and a nerve-jangling American woman who pops up everyone once in a while. Ugh, just the thought of her painfully bad imitation American accent is enough to send even a strong-stomached person into a tailspin. I think the actress imitated a Canadian accent instead of an American one - I've seen a Canadian television show wherein some of the characters had similar accents. Whatever the reason, she does not sound like a genuine American.
Fortunately, with the exception of the main storyline, the annoying parts of the movie are fairly ignorable. The writing, costumes, and acting are wonderful, and so many characters are either likeable, funny, or even both. He Knew He Was Right is definitely worth the four hours if you are a British mini-series fan.
My Rating: T (marriage disintigration, thematic elements, child kidnapped by its father)
Reviews of similar movies:
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
On Arch of Triumph
Dr. Ravic (Charles Boyer) is an illegal immigrant in France on the eve before WWII. Of course, Ravic isn't his real name. An Austrian who was imprisoned and tortured by the Nazis, he now spends his time helping other immigrants and avoiding the police. He stumbles across a nightclub singer named Joan Madou (Ingrid Bergman), who turns out to be a needy immigrant. The two embark on a love affair that can only end in tragedy when Ravic spots the man who tortured him in Germany. Now he wants to make sure that man doesn't return to Germany to torture others. The only way he can do that is to put him in a grave.
I apologize for the short post, but I'm running a bit short on time.
This movie is well-acted (particularly by Ingrid Bergman), fairly well-written, and pretty engaging. It's a bit weird to see Charles Boyer play an Austrian with his very heavy French accent. Also, Charles Laughton plays the evil Nazi - with a really bad "German" accent. Ah well, almost all movies have their foibles. This one's are apparently mismatched accents.
The foibles weren't the worst thing about this movie, though. The ending is horrible. No movie is good without a happy ending. I don't mean an ending that goes "and they all lived happily ever after." One of my favorite movie endings is one where literally almost half the characters die. At any rate, the ending to this movie is tragic. And that ruins what would otherwise be a pretty decent film.
My Rating: T (thematic elements, violence)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
I apologize for the short post, but I'm running a bit short on time.
This movie is well-acted (particularly by Ingrid Bergman), fairly well-written, and pretty engaging. It's a bit weird to see Charles Boyer play an Austrian with his very heavy French accent. Also, Charles Laughton plays the evil Nazi - with a really bad "German" accent. Ah well, almost all movies have their foibles. This one's are apparently mismatched accents.
The foibles weren't the worst thing about this movie, though. The ending is horrible. No movie is good without a happy ending. I don't mean an ending that goes "and they all lived happily ever after." One of my favorite movie endings is one where literally almost half the characters die. At any rate, the ending to this movie is tragic. And that ruins what would otherwise be a pretty decent film.
My Rating: T (thematic elements, violence)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Concerning The Ebony Swan
(Written by Phyllis Whitney.) Alex is worried. Her granddaughter Susan is coming for a visit, and she's not entirely sure that's a good thing. After all, the girl's father wasn't exactly fond of his mother-in-law, particularly after Susan's mother died in a terrible accident. Grandmother and granddaughter might not get along. At the same time, Alex can't help but think that Susan might just be able to shed some light on the terrible tragedy of so many years ago. Too young at the time to understand, Susan had nevertheless been a witness to her mother's accident. But Alex isn't at all sure that she wants more light on her daughter's death; light has a tricky way of exposing things that some people prefer to leave in the dark.
It is typically easy to guess the murderers in Whitney's books. Luckily, that isn't the case in The Ebony Swan. I thought I had the murderer picked out just a few pages into the book, but I was wrong. After that, every hypothesis I invented was proved wrong. In fact, the revelation near the end was rather surprising. That's the most important thing in any mystery book, and one of only two things that kept this one afloat.
The other was the likeability of the heroine and hero. Susan is a very nice woman, and Peter seems a good man. I'm not real fond of the idea that he and his wife were separated, but at least she's dead. (Cold-blooded, I know, but there it is...)
Unfortunately, there are bad sides to The Ebony Swan as well. First, the lack of certain details was, frankly, annoying. For example, Alex thinks her husband's last words are puzzling. Whitney won't say what they were until near the end of the book - but the words were not important. If they had contained some revelation that perhaps the reader could have used to find the murderer, I would understand the omission. But they were very obvious. And there are few things more annoying in books than having suspense built up around a certain element only to be disappointed in its capacity to surprise.
Then there was the annoyance of the affair. In a curious sort of way, it's condoned and condemned at the same time. Alex, who was years younger than her husband, had a short affair with another man who tried to convince her to leave her husband. She stayed, and the lover ended up marrying somebody else. Showing that she does have some idea that adultery is wrong, Alex is very relieved that her husband knew nothing of her affair. But she is also only half regretful of what she did. She doesn't acknowledge that it was really wrong, and she even seems to regret not leaving her husband once or twice throughout the book. Most disconcerting.
Ultimately, The Ebony Swan is a fairly decent, fairly clean mystery novel with a likeable heroine. Some pointless sleight of pen and murky morals could have held up to a good scrubbing, but it's still fairly enjoyable.
My Rating: T (thematic elements)
It is typically easy to guess the murderers in Whitney's books. Luckily, that isn't the case in The Ebony Swan. I thought I had the murderer picked out just a few pages into the book, but I was wrong. After that, every hypothesis I invented was proved wrong. In fact, the revelation near the end was rather surprising. That's the most important thing in any mystery book, and one of only two things that kept this one afloat.
The other was the likeability of the heroine and hero. Susan is a very nice woman, and Peter seems a good man. I'm not real fond of the idea that he and his wife were separated, but at least she's dead. (Cold-blooded, I know, but there it is...)
Unfortunately, there are bad sides to The Ebony Swan as well. First, the lack of certain details was, frankly, annoying. For example, Alex thinks her husband's last words are puzzling. Whitney won't say what they were until near the end of the book - but the words were not important. If they had contained some revelation that perhaps the reader could have used to find the murderer, I would understand the omission. But they were very obvious. And there are few things more annoying in books than having suspense built up around a certain element only to be disappointed in its capacity to surprise.
Then there was the annoyance of the affair. In a curious sort of way, it's condoned and condemned at the same time. Alex, who was years younger than her husband, had a short affair with another man who tried to convince her to leave her husband. She stayed, and the lover ended up marrying somebody else. Showing that she does have some idea that adultery is wrong, Alex is very relieved that her husband knew nothing of her affair. But she is also only half regretful of what she did. She doesn't acknowledge that it was really wrong, and she even seems to regret not leaving her husband once or twice throughout the book. Most disconcerting.
Ultimately, The Ebony Swan is a fairly decent, fairly clean mystery novel with a likeable heroine. Some pointless sleight of pen and murky morals could have held up to a good scrubbing, but it's still fairly enjoyable.
My Rating: T (thematic elements)
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
In Relation To Jane Eyre (2011)
(Based on the book by Charlotte Bronte.) A lonely, lost young woman collapses on the doorstep of a minister and his sisters. She says her name is Jane Elliot, but her real name is Jane Eyre (Mia Wasikowska). Her life has been rather hard, and she flees from something - or someone - in her past. After a miserable childhood, she was happy during her time as governess at Thornfield Hall, particularly when her employer Mr. Rochester (Michael Fassbender) was at home. But something happened to crush her happiness and make her willing - adamant, in fact - to leave her life and start afresh under a new name.
Adaptations of classics must always be compared to the original book. Out of the five Jane Eyre adaptations I had seen and remembered, only the 1980s version satisfied me from a faithful adaptation standpoint. Even that one has its serious difficulties - Jane's age, in point of fact. Since Jane's youth is such a huge part of her character, picking a late-twenties actress who looked like she was in her mid-thirties wasn't a good casting job. But this one, this newest Jane Eyre, is by far the best adaptation I have seen.
Mia Wasikowska is the perfect actress to play Jane. She is not too pretty, but not ugly either. Her age (early twenties) is close enough to Jane's nineteen years to be believable. But best of all, she has a sort of quiet grace and self-possession. Underneath this grace runs a sparkling, elusive little thread of passion that glimmers every once in a while. That is exactly how I imagine Jane.
Michael Fassbender plays a terrific Mr. Rochester as well. (Note: I was predisposed to think well of him since I fell in love during X-Men: First Class. However, I think I can honestly say he's a very good Mr. Rochester.) He definitely looks older than Jane, and has a sort of world-weary look about him. He plays bored, amused, and angry well - though the angry could have been a little more passionate. Thankfully, the filmmakers made up for this by putting in the scene where he plays the piano and then goes outside and starts shooting at birds. The crowning moment that really sold me on Fassbender's performance was the scene in the library, where Jane reduces him to tears. Very few actors can cry like that and retain their masculinity so well.
Even though this version is considerably shorter than the 80s one, I think it sticks to the book quite as well. Many of Jane's childhood scenes are thankfully eliminated or at least shortened - filmmakers generally choose the same ones and directly quote from the book. I practically have them memorized. Also, these childhood scenes are broken up with scenes from the present - a handy tool to help keep the monotony of those sadly necessary scenes at bay. Less time is also spent on St. John Rivers's (Jamie Bell) character. The important elements remain (his hardness, his proposal), but the lesser elements are gone. The only two scenes I wish had been in the movie were the veil scene and the scene where Mr. Rochester tells Jane about Adèle's (Romy Settbon Moore) mother. Both these are in the deleted scenes, and after watching the veil scene, I am quite happy that it was left out of the movie. It makes me shudder just to think of it. Besides, those scenes are clichéd by now because they're in practically every movie.
In short, there have been omissions, but no additions from what I can remember. The movie follows the book faithfully and retains all the important things - particularly Jane's and Mr. Rochester's characters. Devotees of the book will, of course, want to watch the 1980s version, but I prefer this one. In a quiet, solemn sort of way, it remains faithful to the spirit and substance of the book whilst it pares the story down to a manageable two hours. That is masterful filmmaking.
My Rating: T (thematic elements, a lingering look at a nude painting of a woman)
Other Jane Eyre reviews:
Adaptations of classics must always be compared to the original book. Out of the five Jane Eyre adaptations I had seen and remembered, only the 1980s version satisfied me from a faithful adaptation standpoint. Even that one has its serious difficulties - Jane's age, in point of fact. Since Jane's youth is such a huge part of her character, picking a late-twenties actress who looked like she was in her mid-thirties wasn't a good casting job. But this one, this newest Jane Eyre, is by far the best adaptation I have seen.
Mia Wasikowska is the perfect actress to play Jane. She is not too pretty, but not ugly either. Her age (early twenties) is close enough to Jane's nineteen years to be believable. But best of all, she has a sort of quiet grace and self-possession. Underneath this grace runs a sparkling, elusive little thread of passion that glimmers every once in a while. That is exactly how I imagine Jane.
Michael Fassbender plays a terrific Mr. Rochester as well. (Note: I was predisposed to think well of him since I fell in love during X-Men: First Class. However, I think I can honestly say he's a very good Mr. Rochester.) He definitely looks older than Jane, and has a sort of world-weary look about him. He plays bored, amused, and angry well - though the angry could have been a little more passionate. Thankfully, the filmmakers made up for this by putting in the scene where he plays the piano and then goes outside and starts shooting at birds. The crowning moment that really sold me on Fassbender's performance was the scene in the library, where Jane reduces him to tears. Very few actors can cry like that and retain their masculinity so well.
Even though this version is considerably shorter than the 80s one, I think it sticks to the book quite as well. Many of Jane's childhood scenes are thankfully eliminated or at least shortened - filmmakers generally choose the same ones and directly quote from the book. I practically have them memorized. Also, these childhood scenes are broken up with scenes from the present - a handy tool to help keep the monotony of those sadly necessary scenes at bay. Less time is also spent on St. John Rivers's (Jamie Bell) character. The important elements remain (his hardness, his proposal), but the lesser elements are gone. The only two scenes I wish had been in the movie were the veil scene and the scene where Mr. Rochester tells Jane about Adèle's (Romy Settbon Moore) mother. Both these are in the deleted scenes, and after watching the veil scene, I am quite happy that it was left out of the movie. It makes me shudder just to think of it. Besides, those scenes are clichéd by now because they're in practically every movie.
In short, there have been omissions, but no additions from what I can remember. The movie follows the book faithfully and retains all the important things - particularly Jane's and Mr. Rochester's characters. Devotees of the book will, of course, want to watch the 1980s version, but I prefer this one. In a quiet, solemn sort of way, it remains faithful to the spirit and substance of the book whilst it pares the story down to a manageable two hours. That is masterful filmmaking.
My Rating: T (thematic elements, a lingering look at a nude painting of a woman)
Other Jane Eyre reviews:
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Concerning Spellbound
(Suggested by The House of Dr. Edwardes by Frances Beeding.) Constance Petersen (Ingrid Bergman) is strictly a woman of science. One of her coworkere at the mental hospital Green Manors refers to her as a "human glacier." Then she meets handsome Dr. Edwardes (Gregory Peck), the new head of Green Manors. He sweeps her off her feet, but she soon discovers that there's something odd about him. He seems to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown, and it isn't long before Constance discovers that he isn't Dr. Edwardes at all. In fact, he's suffering from amnesia - and a deep-seated belief that he killed Dr. Edwardes.
Alfred Hitchcock, Ingrid Bergman, and Gregory Peck. I'm in classic movie heaven. Seriously though, this is one of Hitchcock's better movies, but not quite his best. Ingrid Bergman is as wonderful as she always was, the romance is very sweet, and, of course, it's very suspenseful. On the other hand, the psychoanalysis part and the frankly laughable directing and special effects keep Spellbound from being anything more than just enjoyable.
The special effects are pretty typical for a forties movie. Dummies are used for the dangerous stunts, etc. The directing has its problems, too. Hitchcock could sure pick a story, but sometimes his use of the camera could be a little odd. In Spellbound, he attempted to make the viewer feel like one of the characters at various points in the film. For example, when a character drinks a glass of milk, the glass is held up to the camera and tipped as if the camera was drinking. Unfortunately, it's not very effective when the milk covers the screen. One's vision is never blocked out by the milk one is drinking. There's another scene that is meant to resemble a surrealist painting and ends up looking, well, rather ridiculous. You'll recognize the one if/when you watch the movie.
The psychoanalysis is a bit more disturbing than the lameness, though it's not as blatant. Put simply, psychoanalysis is a load of tripe. You can read a more in-depth article about the subject here, but the underlying principle of psychoanalysis is that our will is subordinated to our instincts. According to psychoanalysts, our true selves are found in our unconscious longings - particularly unfulfilled longings. When suppressed, these longings cause us to act insansely. (That smells suspiciously like secular ideas of today...) There are other problematic aspects as well. However, as a simple therapeutic method, psychoanalysis is morally acceptable (if mentally dangerous) because doctors simply probe the minds of their patients for reasons why the patients are unstable. Fortunately, Spellbound generally sticks to the basic, more vanilla therapeutic application of psychoanalysis. Because of this, the movie doesn't get swallowed up in bad philosophy.
Fundamentally, Spellbound is a Hitchcock movie. There's some doubt as to the morality of the main characters, there are surprises and numerous dangerous situations, and almost the whole movie is drenched in suspense that occasionally gets a little over the top. There's also a hint of something out of touch with reality - in this case, psychoanalysis. But the merits of the movie outweigh its deficiencies, and I have to admit it cast a spell on me.
(Yes, I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself for using that pun.)
My Rating: T (thematic elements, frightening images and ideas)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Alfred Hitchcock, Ingrid Bergman, and Gregory Peck. I'm in classic movie heaven. Seriously though, this is one of Hitchcock's better movies, but not quite his best. Ingrid Bergman is as wonderful as she always was, the romance is very sweet, and, of course, it's very suspenseful. On the other hand, the psychoanalysis part and the frankly laughable directing and special effects keep Spellbound from being anything more than just enjoyable.
The special effects are pretty typical for a forties movie. Dummies are used for the dangerous stunts, etc. The directing has its problems, too. Hitchcock could sure pick a story, but sometimes his use of the camera could be a little odd. In Spellbound, he attempted to make the viewer feel like one of the characters at various points in the film. For example, when a character drinks a glass of milk, the glass is held up to the camera and tipped as if the camera was drinking. Unfortunately, it's not very effective when the milk covers the screen. One's vision is never blocked out by the milk one is drinking. There's another scene that is meant to resemble a surrealist painting and ends up looking, well, rather ridiculous. You'll recognize the one if/when you watch the movie.
The psychoanalysis is a bit more disturbing than the lameness, though it's not as blatant. Put simply, psychoanalysis is a load of tripe. You can read a more in-depth article about the subject here, but the underlying principle of psychoanalysis is that our will is subordinated to our instincts. According to psychoanalysts, our true selves are found in our unconscious longings - particularly unfulfilled longings. When suppressed, these longings cause us to act insansely. (That smells suspiciously like secular ideas of today...) There are other problematic aspects as well. However, as a simple therapeutic method, psychoanalysis is morally acceptable (if mentally dangerous) because doctors simply probe the minds of their patients for reasons why the patients are unstable. Fortunately, Spellbound generally sticks to the basic, more vanilla therapeutic application of psychoanalysis. Because of this, the movie doesn't get swallowed up in bad philosophy.
Fundamentally, Spellbound is a Hitchcock movie. There's some doubt as to the morality of the main characters, there are surprises and numerous dangerous situations, and almost the whole movie is drenched in suspense that occasionally gets a little over the top. There's also a hint of something out of touch with reality - in this case, psychoanalysis. But the merits of the movie outweigh its deficiencies, and I have to admit it cast a spell on me.
(Yes, I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself for using that pun.)
My Rating: T (thematic elements, frightening images and ideas)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Pertaining To The Conspirator
Zzzzzzz... What? I'm sorry. Fell asleep for a minute there.
Okay, something about a woman who is (perhaps) falsely accused of conspiring to kill President Lincoln. She stands trial in a closed military court with Union generals as the deciding body. A young man in the war department is her defense. He's reluctant at first, but then starts to believe the trial is unfair and she may be innocent. He's willing to risk his career to see her get a fair trial.
That about covers it. I've heard the movie is relentlessly accurate (historically, I mean). However, I doubt that very much. It seems a little too liberal to be accurate. The writing is so-so (what's with the contractions in the dialogue?). The acting is kept afloat by Robin Wright as Mary Surratt, the accused woman, and, to a certain extent, James McAvoy as Aiken, her defense lawyer. (Although I think he occasionally had trouble dropping his British accent.)
Aside from the sheer boredom, I also had a problem with the portrayal of the military court. Whether the generals were truly on a witch hunt or not is beside the point. What matters is what audiences bring away from this movie. Unfortunately, The Conspirator implies that military trials are necessarily biased. With the recent (and still unresolved) controversy over suspected terrorist trials, this seems like a thinly veiled condemnation of the military trials that many conservatives want to use. I have heard that this movie was in the works well before the War on Terror, so it seems that the man behind the movie did not intend it as a condemnation. However, I am perfectly willing to believe that director Robert Redford intended it as a condemnation.
Additionally, military trials are called "unconstitutional." Shortly after Surratt's trial, the Supreme Court ruled that citizens cannot be tried in military courts. I would agree. But this was an extraordinary period in the history of this country. Nearly all enemy combatants were citizens because it was a Civil War. The filmmakers also forgot to mention little details like: Abraham Lincoln himself suspended habeas corpus during the Civil War. Imagine that! The man that everyone includes in their top five best presidents list suspended something that the Supreme Court has recently (and perhaps wrongfully) given to non-citizens. Also, if Lincoln suspended habeas corpus rights without a huge uproar, why would anyone at the time think it untoward that Surratt got a military trial?
Finally, the story seemed a little stilted. For most of the movie, it is implied that Surratt is innocent. Only at the beginning and the end does Aiken seem to doubt her innocence. In the beginning, he is convinced that she is guilty. In the end, he admits that he doesn't know; he just wants her to have a fair trial. In between, he seems to never doubt her innocence. The flimsiness of the evidence presented against her also seems to imply that she is innocent. In the mystery genre, it's a good thing to mislead audience by getting it caught up in the moment. In the historical genre, it's just bad storytelling.
In conclusion, this is a good movie to watch when you need to catch up on some sleep. Robin Wright was wonderful as Mary Surratt, and James McAvoy was pretty good as Aiken. But they were the only bright lights in an otherwise drab (and probably politically slanted) movie.
My Rating: T (mild language, violence (including stabbing), several people are hanged)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Okay, something about a woman who is (perhaps) falsely accused of conspiring to kill President Lincoln. She stands trial in a closed military court with Union generals as the deciding body. A young man in the war department is her defense. He's reluctant at first, but then starts to believe the trial is unfair and she may be innocent. He's willing to risk his career to see her get a fair trial.
That about covers it. I've heard the movie is relentlessly accurate (historically, I mean). However, I doubt that very much. It seems a little too liberal to be accurate. The writing is so-so (what's with the contractions in the dialogue?). The acting is kept afloat by Robin Wright as Mary Surratt, the accused woman, and, to a certain extent, James McAvoy as Aiken, her defense lawyer. (Although I think he occasionally had trouble dropping his British accent.)
Aside from the sheer boredom, I also had a problem with the portrayal of the military court. Whether the generals were truly on a witch hunt or not is beside the point. What matters is what audiences bring away from this movie. Unfortunately, The Conspirator implies that military trials are necessarily biased. With the recent (and still unresolved) controversy over suspected terrorist trials, this seems like a thinly veiled condemnation of the military trials that many conservatives want to use. I have heard that this movie was in the works well before the War on Terror, so it seems that the man behind the movie did not intend it as a condemnation. However, I am perfectly willing to believe that director Robert Redford intended it as a condemnation.
Additionally, military trials are called "unconstitutional." Shortly after Surratt's trial, the Supreme Court ruled that citizens cannot be tried in military courts. I would agree. But this was an extraordinary period in the history of this country. Nearly all enemy combatants were citizens because it was a Civil War. The filmmakers also forgot to mention little details like: Abraham Lincoln himself suspended habeas corpus during the Civil War. Imagine that! The man that everyone includes in their top five best presidents list suspended something that the Supreme Court has recently (and perhaps wrongfully) given to non-citizens. Also, if Lincoln suspended habeas corpus rights without a huge uproar, why would anyone at the time think it untoward that Surratt got a military trial?
Finally, the story seemed a little stilted. For most of the movie, it is implied that Surratt is innocent. Only at the beginning and the end does Aiken seem to doubt her innocence. In the beginning, he is convinced that she is guilty. In the end, he admits that he doesn't know; he just wants her to have a fair trial. In between, he seems to never doubt her innocence. The flimsiness of the evidence presented against her also seems to imply that she is innocent. In the mystery genre, it's a good thing to mislead audience by getting it caught up in the moment. In the historical genre, it's just bad storytelling.
In conclusion, this is a good movie to watch when you need to catch up on some sleep. Robin Wright was wonderful as Mary Surratt, and James McAvoy was pretty good as Aiken. But they were the only bright lights in an otherwise drab (and probably politically slanted) movie.
My Rating: T (mild language, violence (including stabbing), several people are hanged)
Reviews of similar books or movies:
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Regarding Leap Year
Anna Brady (Amy Adams) likes to control every aspect of her life. There's no such thing as luck in her mind - if you make the right plans, everything turns out right. If you don't, then things can get ugly. Unfortunately, the only part of her life that she can't control is her marital status. Her longtime boyfriend seems to have no interest in marriage, and Anna knows only too well that the man must always propose. Or must he? It just so happens that there's an old Irish tradition that a woman can propose to her man on February 29th. And seeing as how it's leap year and her boyfriend is at a convention in Dublin... well, Anna decides to take control and hops on a plane. But when her flight is diverted and she ends up being driven across Ireland by a handsome Irish rogue named Declan (Matthew Goode), she discovers that she just might lose control of her heart.
As you can probably guess from the blurb above, this is a typical romantic comedy. Boy meets girl, at least one of them is entangled in a relationship with an annoying/creepy/stupid/selfish person, they fight all the time, are forced into some hilarious and/or uncomfortable situations, eventually discover they're in love, almost miss their chance at happiness, but eventually get it through their thick skulls that they belong together and should act accordingly. I won't say I'm an expert on romantic comedies (I've only seen a few), but from the summaries I've read, I'm pretty sure that's how most of them go. Leap Year follows the same pattern, but with a few refreshing differences from a typical Hollywood movie.
First, Anna is fixated on the idea of plans, control, and marriage. She looks at Jeremy (Adam Scott), her boyfriend, and sees a man who just doesn't have the nerve - or something - to ask her to marry him. But marriage, or perhaps the security that comes with marriage, is what she really wants. So she decides she's going to take matters into her own hands and propose to him. This is a move that would be applauded by feminists everywhere. After all, when the man becomes too weak, the woman should step in and be the man, right? Just look at Enchanted or any one of the seemingly endless movies where it is implied that women are the ones who really save the day. Fortunately, Leap Year rejects the ideas that men and women are interchangeable and that women should be tougher and more manly than men. In the end, Declan respectfully lets Anna make her choice, but he takes the lead in the relationship when she comes back to him.
Second, and perhaps just as importantly, the message of the movie is that marriage is an essential ingredient in a relationship. It's implied that Jeremy takes too long to commit to marriage, and when he does, he commits for the wrong reason. Jeremy is all about plans (plans for things that he wants for himself), and when marriage fits into the plan, he decides to take the leap. That relationship and that kind of "love" are exposed as severely wanting. Declan, on the other hand, considers marriage as a plan in itself and decides to take that step with Anna without an ulterior motive. He doesn't need to be pushed into marriage, and even wants to get married despite Anna's offer of a relationship without marriage.
Finally, Declan respects Anna even when he could easily take advantage of her. In a typical, but funny situation, the two have to pose as a married couple in order to stay the night in the house of an old couple. Declan begs his way into sharing a bed with Anna (for reasons of comfort), but the two keep their physical distance as much as possible in the small bed. This, despite the feelings awoken when the two shared their first kiss earlier that day, and despite a long look that passes between them as they lie in bed. Declan is the one to emphatically turn his back, showing his respect for her and for the "Jeremy" she seems so eager to marry. Unfortunately, it is implied that the two don't retain their physical distance after they become engaged, but Leap Year does take a pretty large step in the right direction nonetheless.
I'm a fan of clean romances and romantic comedies, though both are few and far between. Leap Year manages to be funny and fairly clean, with a handsome hero complete with an Irish brogue, a pretty heroine who needs to learn a few lessons, and a good old Irish flavor. In the end, though, it's the refreshingly (almost) correct look at commitment and the selfish, soulless way people view love these days that make this movie worth it.
My Rating: T (mild sexual content and references, mild language)
As you can probably guess from the blurb above, this is a typical romantic comedy. Boy meets girl, at least one of them is entangled in a relationship with an annoying/creepy/stupid/selfish person, they fight all the time, are forced into some hilarious and/or uncomfortable situations, eventually discover they're in love, almost miss their chance at happiness, but eventually get it through their thick skulls that they belong together and should act accordingly. I won't say I'm an expert on romantic comedies (I've only seen a few), but from the summaries I've read, I'm pretty sure that's how most of them go. Leap Year follows the same pattern, but with a few refreshing differences from a typical Hollywood movie.
First, Anna is fixated on the idea of plans, control, and marriage. She looks at Jeremy (Adam Scott), her boyfriend, and sees a man who just doesn't have the nerve - or something - to ask her to marry him. But marriage, or perhaps the security that comes with marriage, is what she really wants. So she decides she's going to take matters into her own hands and propose to him. This is a move that would be applauded by feminists everywhere. After all, when the man becomes too weak, the woman should step in and be the man, right? Just look at Enchanted or any one of the seemingly endless movies where it is implied that women are the ones who really save the day. Fortunately, Leap Year rejects the ideas that men and women are interchangeable and that women should be tougher and more manly than men. In the end, Declan respectfully lets Anna make her choice, but he takes the lead in the relationship when she comes back to him.
Second, and perhaps just as importantly, the message of the movie is that marriage is an essential ingredient in a relationship. It's implied that Jeremy takes too long to commit to marriage, and when he does, he commits for the wrong reason. Jeremy is all about plans (plans for things that he wants for himself), and when marriage fits into the plan, he decides to take the leap. That relationship and that kind of "love" are exposed as severely wanting. Declan, on the other hand, considers marriage as a plan in itself and decides to take that step with Anna without an ulterior motive. He doesn't need to be pushed into marriage, and even wants to get married despite Anna's offer of a relationship without marriage.
Finally, Declan respects Anna even when he could easily take advantage of her. In a typical, but funny situation, the two have to pose as a married couple in order to stay the night in the house of an old couple. Declan begs his way into sharing a bed with Anna (for reasons of comfort), but the two keep their physical distance as much as possible in the small bed. This, despite the feelings awoken when the two shared their first kiss earlier that day, and despite a long look that passes between them as they lie in bed. Declan is the one to emphatically turn his back, showing his respect for her and for the "Jeremy" she seems so eager to marry. Unfortunately, it is implied that the two don't retain their physical distance after they become engaged, but Leap Year does take a pretty large step in the right direction nonetheless.
I'm a fan of clean romances and romantic comedies, though both are few and far between. Leap Year manages to be funny and fairly clean, with a handsome hero complete with an Irish brogue, a pretty heroine who needs to learn a few lessons, and a good old Irish flavor. In the end, though, it's the refreshingly (almost) correct look at commitment and the selfish, soulless way people view love these days that make this movie worth it.
My Rating: T (mild sexual content and references, mild language)
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Concerning Sapphique
(Written by Catherine Fisher. Sequel to Incarceron.) Finn is Outside, just like he wanted. But, unsurprisingly, he’s having second thoughts about his decision. He finds the world and its silly Protocol to be stifling. Perhaps it isn’t as physically constrictive as Incarceron, the prison where he was entrapped before, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Besides, his oathbrother Keiro is still stuck in the prison – and the Warden of Incarceron absconded with the only way out of Incarceron and sabotaged the only way into the prison at the same time. Finn’s hopes of rescuing Keiro and the former dog-slave Attia are pretty slim. Or is there more to the prison than meets the eye?
Like I said in my review of the first book, this is a really cool idea. There were more cool things in this book, including a crystal-like tower and an airship. And the original idea of Sapphique’s way Out was taken in a new, fairly clever direction. Unfortunately, that’s about all the good I can say about this book. Much to my chagrin, Ms. Fisher took the story from the first book and led it exactly where I didn’t want it to go.
First, Finn alarmingly began to prefer Claudia over Attia. Claudia? The spoiled brat who occasionally yells at Finn for only thinking of himself? I find that particular characteristic of hers both annoying and ironic since Claudia is the one who only thinks of herself (and, occasionally, her tutor Jared). Finn is genuinely concerned about Keiro, although Claudia thinks that’s stupid. Apparently, she thinks Keiro is only concerned about himself as well. Funny how people are most annoyed by the character traits that they possess.
Then there was the really, really cool twist that was hinted at several times. Based on what people were saying, I began to believe that maybe Incarceron could be the Outside, and the Realm might be the experimental prison. It might not be a completely logical idea, but it really seemed like that was where the book was headed. I’m not a real big fan of stories that claim the world is fake, but it would at least have been an interesting twist. Unfortunately, Ms. Fisher didn’t think so.
Finally, I have a strong dislike for the vague and, frankly, weak ending. One of three things happened with that. Either Ms. Fisher didn’t think the whole story through, she neglected to explain it all, or I missed something big. *Spoiler Warning* How did Sapphique, the Emergency Exit glove, become both an exit from and an entrance to Incarceron? And how did Jared become a prison/person hybrid when he put Sapphique’s glove on? Where did his body go? None of these questions are answered.
Sapphique is a very, very disappointing sequel to an intriguing book. There are unanswered questions, a frustrating love story, and a neglect of interesting twists that would keep the story alive and fresh. Need I say more?
My Rating: T (strange sci-fi ideas about the relationship between the body and the soul, mild sexual references)
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Pertaining To Incarceron
(Written by Catherine Fisher.) Finn was born Outside. He knows it. He has memories that come back to him during seizures. People don't believe him. Even Gildas the Sapient thinks Finn is the creation of Incarceron. To Gildas, and to most of the Comitatus, Finn was created by the prison out of recycled bits of matter - a cellborn. But Finn knows better. He knows there is somewhere outside the prison, that he came from that somewhere, and that one day he will remember.
This is a really creepy and really cool idea. In fact, it reminds me a bit of the Matrix. Incarceron is a living, self-sustaining, and speaking prison that keeps its inhabitants trapped inside. Of course, one of the notable differences between the Matrix and Incarceron is that, in the Matrix, one fights the Agents, but in Incarceron, one fights the prison itself. That makes it a bit tough to make any headway. Also, in the Matrix, the prison holds minds, but Incarceron is a physical prison as well as a mental prison of sorts.
However good the idea, an idea can't keep a book afloat all by its lonesome. I've read books that were good ideas, but failed because the main characters were unlikable. That especially seems to happen when the main character is a girl. No offense, but I think most girls in books are idiots. Unfortunately, one of the main characters in Incarceron is an annoying young lady named Claudia - with more emphasis on the "young" than the "lady." She's betrothed to the Heir, a particularly spoiled and weak-minded fellow. But she's willing to do anything to avoid marrying him, etc., etc., etc. Oh, and she can't stand having to wear the starched skirts and other things that Protocol requires of her. A new character trait, that is not. But at least she has an excuse; Protocol (which is basically a rule that says everyone has to live like it's about 1750 or so) has been imposed on them by the rulers, who are somewhat implausibly convinced that they can avoid another bloody uprising like the one that happened decades ago by forcing people to live in the past. Hm. Not the most realistic backstory, but it serves its purpose. Putting all that aside, Claudia is still annoying.
Luckily, Finn is not annoying in the least. He's a good-hearted young man who tries his best. He makes the wrong choice once or twice (notably in the beginning), but these wrong choices only drive him to be better. His friend Attia is a great character as well, and his oathbrother Keiro... well, he's a whole 'nother story.
Incarceron also had just enough twists to show that the authoress knew something more than an interesting concept was needed to keep the story afloat. I guessed most of the developments before the characters knew, but there were one or two good surprises. And really, one can't expect too much from a young adult science fiction book.
All in all, it certainly kept my attention, right up until the end. When I read the last page, I wanted it to go on; what kind of an ending did Ms. Fisher think she was writing? That's not an ending, that's a teaser for Book 2, which, incidentally, I'm getting from my local library today. I can't bear to go much longer without finding out what happens next.
My Rating: T (disturbing concepts about a prison (including that the prison "makes" people), people referred to as "halfmen" or "dog-slaves" as if they were less than human, violence, family problems, mild sexual references)
This is a really creepy and really cool idea. In fact, it reminds me a bit of the Matrix. Incarceron is a living, self-sustaining, and speaking prison that keeps its inhabitants trapped inside. Of course, one of the notable differences between the Matrix and Incarceron is that, in the Matrix, one fights the Agents, but in Incarceron, one fights the prison itself. That makes it a bit tough to make any headway. Also, in the Matrix, the prison holds minds, but Incarceron is a physical prison as well as a mental prison of sorts.
However good the idea, an idea can't keep a book afloat all by its lonesome. I've read books that were good ideas, but failed because the main characters were unlikable. That especially seems to happen when the main character is a girl. No offense, but I think most girls in books are idiots. Unfortunately, one of the main characters in Incarceron is an annoying young lady named Claudia - with more emphasis on the "young" than the "lady." She's betrothed to the Heir, a particularly spoiled and weak-minded fellow. But she's willing to do anything to avoid marrying him, etc., etc., etc. Oh, and she can't stand having to wear the starched skirts and other things that Protocol requires of her. A new character trait, that is not. But at least she has an excuse; Protocol (which is basically a rule that says everyone has to live like it's about 1750 or so) has been imposed on them by the rulers, who are somewhat implausibly convinced that they can avoid another bloody uprising like the one that happened decades ago by forcing people to live in the past. Hm. Not the most realistic backstory, but it serves its purpose. Putting all that aside, Claudia is still annoying.
Luckily, Finn is not annoying in the least. He's a good-hearted young man who tries his best. He makes the wrong choice once or twice (notably in the beginning), but these wrong choices only drive him to be better. His friend Attia is a great character as well, and his oathbrother Keiro... well, he's a whole 'nother story.
Incarceron also had just enough twists to show that the authoress knew something more than an interesting concept was needed to keep the story afloat. I guessed most of the developments before the characters knew, but there were one or two good surprises. And really, one can't expect too much from a young adult science fiction book.
All in all, it certainly kept my attention, right up until the end. When I read the last page, I wanted it to go on; what kind of an ending did Ms. Fisher think she was writing? That's not an ending, that's a teaser for Book 2, which, incidentally, I'm getting from my local library today. I can't bear to go much longer without finding out what happens next.
My Rating: T (disturbing concepts about a prison (including that the prison "makes" people), people referred to as "halfmen" or "dog-slaves" as if they were less than human, violence, family problems, mild sexual references)
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Concerning Unplanned
(Written by Abby Johnson, with Cindy Lambert.) Abby Johnson grew up in a pro-life, Christian family. While in college, she was recruited to be a volunteer at a nearby Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood was there to help women, she was told, and as a worker there she would be making a difference in the lives of women who were in need of her help. Abortion was not the primary goal of Planned Parenthood; in fact, one of Planned Parenthood's primary goals was to reduce the number of abortions. Abby rose in the ranks and finally became director of a clinic. Then something happened to change her mind and her heart.
In my humble experience and opinion, there are only three types of people in favor of legalized abortion. 1) Evil people who are perfectly aware that abortion is murder but think that some things are more important than the lives of unborn children. 2) People who have been deceived, either by others or by themselves, into thinking that abortion is just the "termination of a pregnancy" or the cleaning out of a "cluster of cells." 3) People who are ignorant and don't know/care much about abortion either way. Abby Johnson's story shows that, at least in Texas, many of the people working in Planned Parenthood clinics fall into the second category. They were deceived by others at the start, and have been deceiving themselves ever since.
This is a good lesson that should be taken to heart by pro-lifers. It's easy to hate on people involved in something as appalling as abortion. But sometimes people who are aligned with something evil are not really evil themselves; as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Plus, the pro-life movement is not just about the sanctity of life; it is about the dignity of every person, no matter how small. People who work for abortion clinics deserve to be treated with dignity because they are human persons as well.
I don't really want to say too much more because I think the impacts of stories like this one are greater when fewer details are known going into the stories. The only other thing I want to say is that this book is very fair and even-handed. Abby genuinely liked/likes pro-abortion people she worked for or with. This is not a cathartic rant about the evils of the clinic and those who participated in abortions; this is a simple story about a young woman discovering the truth.
Note: Abby's website can be found at abbyjohnson.org.
My Rating: T (mentions of abortions, thematic elements; no graphic descriptions)
In my humble experience and opinion, there are only three types of people in favor of legalized abortion. 1) Evil people who are perfectly aware that abortion is murder but think that some things are more important than the lives of unborn children. 2) People who have been deceived, either by others or by themselves, into thinking that abortion is just the "termination of a pregnancy" or the cleaning out of a "cluster of cells." 3) People who are ignorant and don't know/care much about abortion either way. Abby Johnson's story shows that, at least in Texas, many of the people working in Planned Parenthood clinics fall into the second category. They were deceived by others at the start, and have been deceiving themselves ever since.
This is a good lesson that should be taken to heart by pro-lifers. It's easy to hate on people involved in something as appalling as abortion. But sometimes people who are aligned with something evil are not really evil themselves; as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Plus, the pro-life movement is not just about the sanctity of life; it is about the dignity of every person, no matter how small. People who work for abortion clinics deserve to be treated with dignity because they are human persons as well.
I don't really want to say too much more because I think the impacts of stories like this one are greater when fewer details are known going into the stories. The only other thing I want to say is that this book is very fair and even-handed. Abby genuinely liked/likes pro-abortion people she worked for or with. This is not a cathartic rant about the evils of the clinic and those who participated in abortions; this is a simple story about a young woman discovering the truth.
Note: Abby's website can be found at abbyjohnson.org.
My Rating: T (mentions of abortions, thematic elements; no graphic descriptions)
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
In Relation To True Grit
Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) is a girl to be reckoned with. When her father is shot in cold blood by the coward Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), Mattie hires U.S. Marshall Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) to pursue Chaney into Indian Territory. Of course, she wants to go along. After all, it was her father who was shot down. She has the right to make certain that Chaney pays for his crime with his life.
There's not much to be said story-wise for most westerns. They follow basically the same pattern: Good guy rides into a town dominated by the bad guy, who also has some sort of hold over the girl. Shooting ensues. Bad guy ends up dead, the good guy marries the girl, and everybody lives happily ever after. There are exceptions to this storyline, of course, but most are fairly minor. The very charm of westerns lie in their old-fashioned good-vs.-evil, underdog, man-of-courage feel. True Grit deviates from those stereotypes and is the better for it.
Despite the ads and publicity, which seem to indicate otherwise, the protagonist is the fourteen-year-old girl Mattie Ross, not Rooster Cogburn. Mattie is the driving force behind the expedition into Indian Territory, Mattie is the one who introduces and ends the story, and Mattie is the glue that holds everything together. This focus on a girl - a young girl, for that matter - is unusual for a western, and brings a breath of fresh air. Of course, Mattie is not like most other fourteen-year-old girls. But, while she may get the better of her elders in bargaining and arguing, she still has her moments of vulnerability and childishness. The simple fact that she is such a big part of the story, despite being a young girl, sets True Grit apart from its fellow westerns.
(While I'm on the subject of Mattie Ross, I'd like to address a pet peeve of mine. In my opinion, it's strange that Hailee Steinfeld was nominated for "best supporting actress" and not "best actress." Her character is the star of the movie, even though she wasn't marketed as such. Furthermore, it's insulting that the best supporting actress award was given to Helena Bonham Carter of The King's Speech, who gave a performance that was fabulous, but somewhat limited in screen time. I have a friend who insists that the quaint way of talking used by Mattie in True Grit makes it difficult to determine how much of her performance was good and how much was just hidden by her speech, but I disagree. I have seen too many teenaged actresses attempt to act and fail miserably not to recognize a good performance when I see it. I suspect the real reason Bonham Carter won is either that the Oscars wanted to dump as many awards as possible on The King's Speech, or that there was some sort of bias against True Grit - which was nominated for ten awards, but didn't win a single one.)
To pick up my review where I left off, True Grit is an unusual western for another reason. The quaint speech, with few contractions, long, old-fashioned words, and sometimes exceedingly long sentences, might seem stilted to some, but at least it's unusual. As a fan of old British books and, as you may already have noticed, someone who writes with long sentences, I found the speech to be delightful. A little strange at first, but very enjoyable. I have always been bothered by the modern way of talking in westerns; it seems to me that the people who inhabited the West over a hundred years ago would have a different, more old-fashioned way of talking than we do. True Grit finally addressed this concern.
In another deviance from the usual pattern of westerns, True Grit is well done on almost every front. As I said, Hailee Steinfeld is wonderful as Mattie. Jeff Bridges is perfect as Rooster Cogburn, and Matt Damon is hilarious as mustached and side-burned Texas Ranger LaBoeuf. Writing and costumes are equally as good, to the point where Mattie's skin looks a little oily when she wakes up in the boarding house in town. I have never seen a movie - much less a western - with that great of attention to detail.
Essentially, True Grit is probably my favorite western. 3:10 to Yuma (the one with Christian Bale and Russell Crowe) similarly rejects many of the stereotypes and conventions of westerns, but is too brutal and has too much other content (however brief) for me to enjoy seeing more than once or twice a year. True Grit, on the other hand, manages to break with tradition without taking the content to a modern level. As someone who warily approaches even PG-13 movies, I appreciate that.
My Rating: T (violence, language)
*UPDATE* Rather embarrassingly, I recently discovered that Helena Bonham Carter did not win best supporting actress for The King's Speech. Melissa Leo from The Fighter actually won the award. While I stand by my statement that Hailee Steinfeld was better than Bonham Carter, I wholeheartedly endorse Leo's win.
There's not much to be said story-wise for most westerns. They follow basically the same pattern: Good guy rides into a town dominated by the bad guy, who also has some sort of hold over the girl. Shooting ensues. Bad guy ends up dead, the good guy marries the girl, and everybody lives happily ever after. There are exceptions to this storyline, of course, but most are fairly minor. The very charm of westerns lie in their old-fashioned good-vs.-evil, underdog, man-of-courage feel. True Grit deviates from those stereotypes and is the better for it.
Despite the ads and publicity, which seem to indicate otherwise, the protagonist is the fourteen-year-old girl Mattie Ross, not Rooster Cogburn. Mattie is the driving force behind the expedition into Indian Territory, Mattie is the one who introduces and ends the story, and Mattie is the glue that holds everything together. This focus on a girl - a young girl, for that matter - is unusual for a western, and brings a breath of fresh air. Of course, Mattie is not like most other fourteen-year-old girls. But, while she may get the better of her elders in bargaining and arguing, she still has her moments of vulnerability and childishness. The simple fact that she is such a big part of the story, despite being a young girl, sets True Grit apart from its fellow westerns.
(While I'm on the subject of Mattie Ross, I'd like to address a pet peeve of mine. In my opinion, it's strange that Hailee Steinfeld was nominated for "best supporting actress" and not "best actress." Her character is the star of the movie, even though she wasn't marketed as such. Furthermore, it's insulting that the best supporting actress award was given to Helena Bonham Carter of The King's Speech, who gave a performance that was fabulous, but somewhat limited in screen time. I have a friend who insists that the quaint way of talking used by Mattie in True Grit makes it difficult to determine how much of her performance was good and how much was just hidden by her speech, but I disagree. I have seen too many teenaged actresses attempt to act and fail miserably not to recognize a good performance when I see it. I suspect the real reason Bonham Carter won is either that the Oscars wanted to dump as many awards as possible on The King's Speech, or that there was some sort of bias against True Grit - which was nominated for ten awards, but didn't win a single one.)
To pick up my review where I left off, True Grit is an unusual western for another reason. The quaint speech, with few contractions, long, old-fashioned words, and sometimes exceedingly long sentences, might seem stilted to some, but at least it's unusual. As a fan of old British books and, as you may already have noticed, someone who writes with long sentences, I found the speech to be delightful. A little strange at first, but very enjoyable. I have always been bothered by the modern way of talking in westerns; it seems to me that the people who inhabited the West over a hundred years ago would have a different, more old-fashioned way of talking than we do. True Grit finally addressed this concern.
In another deviance from the usual pattern of westerns, True Grit is well done on almost every front. As I said, Hailee Steinfeld is wonderful as Mattie. Jeff Bridges is perfect as Rooster Cogburn, and Matt Damon is hilarious as mustached and side-burned Texas Ranger LaBoeuf. Writing and costumes are equally as good, to the point where Mattie's skin looks a little oily when she wakes up in the boarding house in town. I have never seen a movie - much less a western - with that great of attention to detail.
Essentially, True Grit is probably my favorite western. 3:10 to Yuma (the one with Christian Bale and Russell Crowe) similarly rejects many of the stereotypes and conventions of westerns, but is too brutal and has too much other content (however brief) for me to enjoy seeing more than once or twice a year. True Grit, on the other hand, manages to break with tradition without taking the content to a modern level. As someone who warily approaches even PG-13 movies, I appreciate that.
My Rating: T (violence, language)
*UPDATE* Rather embarrassingly, I recently discovered that Helena Bonham Carter did not win best supporting actress for The King's Speech. Melissa Leo from The Fighter actually won the award. While I stand by my statement that Hailee Steinfeld was better than Bonham Carter, I wholeheartedly endorse Leo's win.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
On Thor
Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is on top of the world. As the older son of Norse god Odin (Anothony Hopkins), he is destined to assume the throne of Asgard in place of his father. Unfortunately, just before his father pronounces him king, Asgard is penetrated by evil frost giants from Jotunheim. Thor makes an ill-advised attack on Jotunheim and, instead of being crowned king, is deprived of his powers and banished to Earth for his arrogance. There, he must become worthy to wield the hammer before he can once again return to his home.
The best thing that can be said about this movie is that it is a treat to look at. Asgard took my breath away when the camera first introduced me to the kingdom. The landscapes of New Mexico (New Mexico in the movie, anyway; I don't know if it was shot on location or not) are nearly as beautiful, and even icy Jutenheim, surrounded by clouds, is lovely in a stark, harsh way. The rainbow bridge was also pretty cool, although not as cool as I had heard it would be. The constellations shown during the end credits were also beautiful. The special effects were amazing as well; probably the best I have ever seen. (I've not seen Avatar, nor do I have any plans to.)
The other two great parts of the movie were the humor and the squeaky cleanness. Those two things don't often go together in a movie, even in an animated movie supposedly made for children, but Thor managed to be funny and perfectly clean at the same time. In a day and age when most live-action comedies are rated R, being able to laugh without blushing at the same time is really nice.
With beauty, great special effects, humor, and cleanness, the only things Thor is missing are, well, characters and a story. There are, technically, characters. In fact, there are a lot of characters. Unfortunately, most of them seem to be like Wendy's burgers (i.e., like cardboard cut outs). Even romantic interest Jane's (Natalie Portman) quirky assistant is the type of character that's been in a thousand movies. Granted, she's still funny, but she's not exactly original. Thor is just passable; at least his old-fashioned, gentlemanly manners toward Jane make him unusual for a modern America movie. Loki (Tom Hiddleston) is the most disappointing. Just when I thought I had his character figured out, he would do something completely out of character and I would have to rearrange my opinion of him. This isn't to say that his character kept surprising me with new twists. The filmmakers tried too hard to make him evil and conflicted at the same time, the result being one of the clunkiest villains I've ever seen.
Unfortunately for Thor, characters are the driving force behind any movie. Adaptations of Jane Austen's classics, particularly A&E's masterful Pride and Prejudice, are based entirely on their characters. Even caper movies like the Ocean's trilogy wouldn't be nearly as good without characters like Linus or Reuben. At the same time, while Thor isn't exactly a classic, at least it's an action/adventure movie that's actually appropriate for young teenagers.
My Rating: T (family tensions, mild language, violence, scary images)
The best thing that can be said about this movie is that it is a treat to look at. Asgard took my breath away when the camera first introduced me to the kingdom. The landscapes of New Mexico (New Mexico in the movie, anyway; I don't know if it was shot on location or not) are nearly as beautiful, and even icy Jutenheim, surrounded by clouds, is lovely in a stark, harsh way. The rainbow bridge was also pretty cool, although not as cool as I had heard it would be. The constellations shown during the end credits were also beautiful. The special effects were amazing as well; probably the best I have ever seen. (I've not seen Avatar, nor do I have any plans to.)
The other two great parts of the movie were the humor and the squeaky cleanness. Those two things don't often go together in a movie, even in an animated movie supposedly made for children, but Thor managed to be funny and perfectly clean at the same time. In a day and age when most live-action comedies are rated R, being able to laugh without blushing at the same time is really nice.
With beauty, great special effects, humor, and cleanness, the only things Thor is missing are, well, characters and a story. There are, technically, characters. In fact, there are a lot of characters. Unfortunately, most of them seem to be like Wendy's burgers (i.e., like cardboard cut outs). Even romantic interest Jane's (Natalie Portman) quirky assistant is the type of character that's been in a thousand movies. Granted, she's still funny, but she's not exactly original. Thor is just passable; at least his old-fashioned, gentlemanly manners toward Jane make him unusual for a modern America movie. Loki (Tom Hiddleston) is the most disappointing. Just when I thought I had his character figured out, he would do something completely out of character and I would have to rearrange my opinion of him. This isn't to say that his character kept surprising me with new twists. The filmmakers tried too hard to make him evil and conflicted at the same time, the result being one of the clunkiest villains I've ever seen.
Unfortunately for Thor, characters are the driving force behind any movie. Adaptations of Jane Austen's classics, particularly A&E's masterful Pride and Prejudice, are based entirely on their characters. Even caper movies like the Ocean's trilogy wouldn't be nearly as good without characters like Linus or Reuben. At the same time, while Thor isn't exactly a classic, at least it's an action/adventure movie that's actually appropriate for young teenagers.
My Rating: T (family tensions, mild language, violence, scary images)
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