Friday, January 12, 2018

Is a vampire chronicles television show based on Anne Rice's books even a good idea?

It's possible that I have no limit for a vampire movie and/or television series. Upon learning that the Anne Rice Vampire chronicles are on their way to television via a pilot by Bryan Fuller, I got a little excited. The reason for this is that there was a time when Anne Rice was actually good. I started reading her work in high school. Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and Queen of the Damned were pretty amazing reads for me (at the time) and set my imagination afire. Before Rice, I hadn't really imagined that there could be something more to vampires than Dracula and Salem's lot. I never realized that they could be such "sexual" creatures. And yes, they were fresh monsters...not the stale "has-beens" that they've become today due to over-marketing and saturation of pop culture.

I was also an enormous fan of the mythology. I liked how Rice drew connections to a primal (and ancient) power that had its root in Egypt. The first time I met Akasha and Enkil in her books, and she described them as being carved from white alabaster, only alive, sitting in huge chairs, I was hooked. Then when Akasha drained Enkil to the point that it made him as transparent as glass, I just couldn't put the book down. It was kind of a "white walker" moment for me, and I just had to continue turning pages. I had to know more about these "gods," because there really wasn't any other word to describe them. They even had a kind of holy place/shrine that was really neat in its description. It's been ages since I've read these books, but I remember the pathways Rice described in the chamber that Lestat was sneaking around in.

I also appreciated the fact that Lestat was so homosexual. Anne Rice always treated us homo's with a nice touch, because she found the idea of gay sex to be quite arousing/erotic. Of course she always had the prettiest heroes. Lestat in the books (to hell with Tom Cruise) was a very attractive young man with blond hair and blue eyes...chosen by his vampire master because the golden hair would remind this boy of the sun and his blue eyes would echo the sky that he could never see again because he would be doomed to a land of night. Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in my opinion were horribly miscast. As much as some people have said over the years that they liked the movie Interview With The Vampire, I really did not. I think I've seen it once and then caught snippets on t.v. here and there that I wasn't really that into and swiftly changed the channel. I do like the connections that I make with others though (who are fans of the books). My best friend Brad named a sourdough starter "Claudia." I smiled because I knew what it was a reference to almost immediately.

I pursued other Rice books of course, much to my chagrin. Tale of the Body Thief was terrible, and had such a different tone to it from the main vampire chronicles that I'd thought Anne Rice had lost her mind. But Memnoch the Devil killed any desire for me to pick up another Anne Rice book. Yes, it was just that awful and boring.

I feel a little sorry for Rice to be honest, and I think she's a decade or more too late. She had some super great ideas but got surpassed by so many other authors from Laurel K. Hamilton to the Sookie Stackhouse author to Twilight, that her story of "I want to shag a vampire; let me list the reasons..." is kind of lost on audiences at this point. Even though she was kind of the well-spring of all that, it's going to come across as cliche. And then there's shows that deal with vampires but are not vampire-based, which is probably how a series in the "Vampire Chronicles" is going to be. We've had Being Human, Midnight Texas, Preacher, Dracula, and the list goes on and on. There's dozens upon dozens of these kinds of knock-offs.

Hey...Fuller worked some magic with Hannibal (the television series), so maybe he can work some magic with Anne Rice's chronicles. I'll certainly be giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I won't be surprised if it fails.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

At brunch this weekend I dropped the mic by saying that the Last Jedi was controversial.

Picture courtesy of this video cast HERE
My friend Meg holds a Sunday brunch. She loves to cook, and there's lots of opinionated people who attend said brunch. Sometimes they talk about breast pumps. At other times they talk about their own personal oppression or #metoo. This week I didn't realize that I'd dropped a bomb when I said, "The Last Jedi was a controversial film."

"How so?" asked Jessica. "I saw it with Tim, and I didn't like it but I don't like Star Wars." Tim just giggled. So I was put on the spot.

"Luke Skywalker was a great hero. He went from a no-nothing farm boy to the destroyer of the Death Star, he became a Jedi Knight, and he redeemed Darth Vader to the light side of the force. That act in itself was responsible for Emperor Palpatine's death at Darth Vader's hands...arguably the only person who could have done that in the entire galaxy. So he went from that to a fear-driven hermit who tried to kill his own nephew. People are upset."

"What?!?" piped in Shae (another guest at the brunch). "I don't get that! I saw the film too. Haven't people ever heard of PTSD? Veterans who went out and fought in wars return home, and they can't handle what they've seen and become crackpots and hermits? Has no one ever seen this, because I know I sure have!"

That's when I say, "Those strong feelings that you have about the film? That's what makes it controversial."

Shae continues to say, "I think people need to spend more time around veterans and appreciate the sacrifices they gave to our country. Then they wouldn't be so free to criticize a war hero like Luke Skywalker."

At which point I say, "Look...I get that the film resonated with you, but Star Wars is fiction. It's a space opera. They have explosions that make sound in outer space. They travel faster than light. There's a magical thing called 'The Force.' Maybe a realistic portrayal of PTSD as suffered by veterans who fought in wars is not what some audience members paid for when they bought a ticket."

This of course stuns Shae into silence. Voices around the table ask me, "Well how did you like it?" I say, "I didn't particularly care for it. The Last Jedi was a depressing film."

"Depressing because it's realistic?" someone asked.

"Maybe. I don't want my Star Wars to be realistic. I want to be swept away by plot holes and fantasy." That's my answer and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, a dozen arguments ensue just on that one point, and there are many bones to pick with The Last Jedi. Another controversy? Rose. Apparently, she was "frumpy" for a hero and the romance between her and Finn was incredibly forced. A third controversy? How about Rey coming from nothing and no one.

Ladies and gentlemen...if you haven't heard...The Last Jedi is a controversial film.

Seriously...it is. It divided the fan base like Moses parted the Red Sea. And that's all I got to say about that.

Monday, January 8, 2018

Why does Peter Jackson's 2005 remake of King Kong not have a prequel?

I was watching King Kong this weekend, the Peter Jackson version, which is overly long yet asks of the viewer a ton of questions...and I started to think to myself why there is no prequel to this movie/story? Seriously. We live in an age where there are prequels to everything. There are prequels to the X-Men story started by Bryan Singer (both on television and in the movies). There are Star Wars prequels as everyone well knows, and there are prequels to Batman (Gotham anyone?) as well as one that's planned for Lord of the Rings (recently announced by Amazon if I understand the news correctly). Star Trek the original series? Check for prequel. Raiders of the Lost Arc? Yup. Young Indiana Jones.

Look...King Kong has an audience. There are all kinds of people who are into kaiju, and the huge gorilla story is a really good one. But just set your criticisms aside for a moment and think of the possibilities of good television ala Game of Thrones quality or some movie wherein the timeline of King Kong is rewound a thousand years and the following questions are answered:

1) Who built the wall before the island started to sink? What was this great civilization like? I doubt it had anything to do with the savages that lived there in the 1930's version of the film.

2) Was the civilization a stand alone or did it have competitors? Was the island part of a larger continent that sunk beneath the waves? Did it trade with other civilizations like Rome or China (which would have been great at the time)?

3) How cool would it be to see the whole lost world aspect brought to the screen? Maybe there's an explanation as to the effect that creates the permanent mist around the island. Maybe there's a reason why the compass goes haywire there.

When I think about the possibilities of unmined story that are the essence of King Kong, I think that it's tragic that no one is looking into a prequel for this stuff. In the least, it could be a really interesting segway into some Cthulhu-esque territory of Great Old Ones and strange cities populated by beings not from this dimension who built cities using geometry that was very non-euclidean. At the most, it could be a fantastic setting for stories that depict the rise and fall of a great empire trying to protect itself via magic and technology from gargantuan creatures some of whom they worship as gods.

Anyway...just an idea...one that I felt was worth sharing.

Friday, January 5, 2018

The Greatest Showman is a movie that I think will give you joy if you just allow it to hoodwink you into the musical story of P.T. Barnum.

For me, the surprising movie hit of December that seemed to come out of nowhere was The Greatest Showman. If you haven't seen it, the movie is remarkable on several levels, and for me and my friends that went with me (twice in fact) it's one of those "feel good" shows that just leaves you in a kind of wonder as you leave the theater. You can't help but want to talk about it, and if you happen to have a good sound system in your car, download the soundtrack to listen to on the drive home (I love you Spotify).

Reflecting on the whole experience, I suppose it is an apt tribute to the man that was P.T. Barnum. I know nothing of Barnum's actual life, except for a few quotes that are so famous that practically everyone has heard of them. "A Sucker's born every minute." That's one that I can think of right off the top of my head, and it wasn't in the film. However true or not true this telling of the circus showman is, I think its spirit was on point to what most of us feel about Barnum: that this rags to riches story is ultimately about what a guy can do who has legendary amounts of charisma and a way of seeing strangeness in a different light.

I recently became recaptured by the allure of the circus and carnival, because I picked up a copy of Something Wicked This Way Comes written by Ray Bradbury. Bradbury's language is incredible as he describes two main characters in the book and sets the stage for events to come:

"So the salesman jangled and clanged his huge leather kit in which oversized puzzles of ironmongery lay unseen but which his tongue conjured from door to door until he came at last to a lawn which was cut all wrong.
     No not the grass. The salesman lifted his gaze. But two boys, far up the gentle slope, lying on the grass. Of a like size and general shape, the boys sat carving twig whistles, talking of olden or future times, content with having left their fingerprints on every movable object in Green Town during summer past and their footprints on every open path between here and the lake and there and the river since school began."

Just read the above passage and you can't help but get sucked into the story. What does the salesman with all that ironmongery want with the boys? Where does he come from? What's his business in Green Town? And there's a bit of foreboding there too with the placement of the word "wrong."

P.T. Barnum says something in the movie that made me think of this passage in particular. While trying to secure a loan to start up his "museum of oddities" he tells the loan officer that people are fascinated with the macabre...with things that are "wrong." We tend to stare at them, and he's absolutely right. We still do. Think of the traffic that builds up on the interstate when someone gets into a fender bender...all the gapers and gawkers staring out the window to see if they can spot a dead body.

And ultimately, the salesman in Bradbury's iconic story was probably channeled from P.T. Barnum, or at least what we have all come to know of him as a kind of collective conscience. In one poignant scene talking to a woman with an incredible voice, Hugh Jackman says (as P.T. Barnum), "People come to my shows to get hoodwinked, but just once I'd like to offer them something real." In my opinion, that's what the movie does best. With songs that are definitely not from the era (they would feel perfect on stage at The Voice) and written/put together by the creative geniuses behind La La Land, I think that if you allow it, the movie is capable of hoodwinking anyone into believing that a musical set to modern pop songs is indeed the perfect medium to explore a showman's life. This is from elephants to trapeze artists and to the persecuted freaks who get into a fight with bigots that ends up being so awful, it ends up burning down the building in which they perform. I think this is at the root of the tremendous split on Rotten Tomatoes, which has the critic score for this film as low, yet the audience satisfaction score is high. It is the opposite of what you saw with The Last Jedi, and quite frankly, I enjoyed The Greatest Showman much much more. The Greatest Showman entertained me, whereas The Last Jedi left me feeling depressed.

The Greatest Showman is a movie that I think will give you joy if you just allow it to hoodwink you. And I think you should do just that and go and see it in theaters now. That is all :).

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

The January 2018 edition of The Insecure Writer's Support Group asks a soul-searching question of us writers.

Happy New Year everyone.

I hope that you all enjoyed the holidays. I'm going to try and refocus my efforts on my writing this year. And along with that theme comes the Insecure Writer's Support Group, and the January 2018 soul-searching question which is as follows:
What steps have you taken or plan to take to put a schedule in place for your writing and publishing?
I think I'm going to work on my edits for stuff that I feel has been mothballed due to all kinds of distractions in my real life. The schedule? Maybe every time that I blog, so three times a week on my computer for about an hour or so. I feel that if I get into this schedule, it may become habit forming (which is a good thing) and that I will progress through the projects I've piled up by chipping away at them slowly but steadily.

That's the hope at least.

Friday, December 15, 2017

Happy Holidays 2017 edition.

This is my last post for 2017. I'll be back for the Insecure Writer's Support Group January 2018 edition. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

I saw the new Star Wars movie last night (of course I did, right?) I'm not going to give any spoilers, but I did want to comment on how whiny Luke Skywalker is. When I said this to my bf Brad Habegger, he was like, "Luke Skywalker has always been a whiny bitch." And I started to think about it, and he's right. I guess I never really noticed.

So the movie does this really well. They hold to character, I suppose. I don't know why I noticed it so much now except that Mark Hamill is old, and he still behaved the way he did in the seventies and eighties on screen. I guess back then I was under this assumption that adulthood somehow makes people different than what they were back in the day. I should know better. People have pretty much the same minds and bodies as they did when they were young, it's just when they are old they walk around in saggy skin and wrinkles.

So yeah...I hope you don't think that's a spoiler...but old Luke Skywalker is a whiny bitch.

See you in 2018.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Is suspension of disbelief the responsiblity of the creator or the responsibility of the audience?

Will it be your responsibility to believe anything that you see in this movie in order to enjoy it? Or will you
rage against the director because "stuff doesn't work that way."
The term "suspension of disbelief" according to Wikipedia, is a willingness to suspend one's critical faculties and believe something surreal. It is to sacrifice realism and logic for the sake of enjoyment. So with that definition out of the way, I want to ask all of you if you think it is the responsibility of the audience, or if it is the responsibility of the creator? In other words, is it on you to be entertained by say...a Star Wars movie...and if you are not (because it's too unbelievable) is there something wrong with you?

Many people think that once upon a time, it was the creator of the story who was supposed to suspend your disbelief. And these same people now think that audiences are expected to overlook massive plot holes for the purpose of spectacle. Just to be clear, this goes beyond fantasy and/or science fiction elements and into the territory of people performing actions that have credibility, or in the least, making decisions that have a reason behind them. And I suppose that the answer to this question is going to vary infinitely from person to person because no one is ever on the same page with anyone. This is a truth that I've learned to accept in life (maybe with a little hyperbole), but I'll explain further in the next paragraph.

We live in a functioning society, and it amazes me everyday of my life that I can say this given how many people have different views and opinions of what is true and what is acceptable. It ranges from me believing wholeheartedly in the evidence that expounds evolution through natural selection as a fact to the man sitting next to me that wants to show me images of hieroglyphics found within the Great Pyramid of Giza that depict submarines and helicopters (somehow made 4000 years ago) and who thinks "evolution is bullsh*t." For every gift of a bottle of plain water given at a work Christmas party (and the giver thought this was a fine gift when they received handmade soap or something else that clearly cost $10) to the person who is outraged that someone has used an incorrect pronoun in addressing them, I am convinced that by even having a functioning society with all of these disparate minds is a kind of miracle into and of itself. There are people who insist that the world is flat standing next to people who know it to be round, there are men who are wearing gold jewelry standing next to men who insist that they cannot wear gold because the metal poisons men but is harmless to women.

Anyway, a list of all of the things that people accept as facts (or the things that people believe in) is not what I'm getting at here in this post. Rather, it is an answer to the question of whose responsibility it is to suspend disbelief in a story. For me, it is clearly the responsibility of the audience, and here's why: how could we possibly expect a storyteller (given all the different minds and ways of seeing the world in just the above paragraph and that only scratches the surface) to suspend disbelief when what everyone believes in is different from one person to the next and so on and so forth? You can't "suspend disbelief" when you have no idea what a person even believes in. You can assume, but if you did this, you'd be completely wrong. If you made a space movie and showed the earth as round to a man that believed the earth was flat, well you've failed. Congratulations.

I guess I'd like to see what other people think of this question. Please answer in the comments below.