Showing posts with label Chosen One. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chosen One. Show all posts

Wednesday, 20 July 2022

Interstellar

Interstellar

Director – Christopher Nolan

Writers – Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan

2014, USA-UK-Canada

Stars – Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain

 

Interstellar’ is ultimately more about parenting than space adventures. This is what they call the “heart” of the film. Perhaps this may interest you more than the hard science-fiction elements such as playing with time and wormholes that occur in the second act, or maybe not.  There is little doubt that this middle section, which involves visiting other planets in a search of a new home for mankind, can provoke genuine awe: it’s what special-effects companies were made for, to provide alien landscapes and giant waves and spaceships… But despite this, there is the nagging self-absorbed feeling that the film thinks that the human individual and his feelings trump this awe. There’s the sense that it’s a little strong on the “I am centre of the universe (and other dimensions)!” It’s the same issue that troubles ‘Arrival’, although ‘Arrival’, as Philip Challinor writes, fails dramatically by making the super-smarts of its female protagonist secondary to motherhood (be smart, girls, but don’t forget what you’re on the planet for!). Not that science-fiction can’t be moving,* but these films seem to foreground and broadcast their emotional arcs in such a mainstream fashion (“Hey, we’re going to be, you know, weepy!”) that their serious treatment of otherworldly ideas seem belittled consequently.

Perhaps this would not be so problematic if Matthew McConaughey (who is, you know, great) as Cooper was not such an all-round genius at everything: not only is he an accomplished farmer but he used to be a brilliant space-craft pilot too. He kind of excels at parenting too: he’ll happily drive through a field of presumably precious crops for an exhilarating parenting moment in pursuit of an errant old drone, for example.** This means his character doesn’t really offer friction, except where he might occasionally butt heads with others. But we know they’re wrong and he’s right anyway. He is perpetually in motion by quest, but when he finally makes his way back his daughter, the moment is more-or-less waved off and brief, leading the audience investment a little short-changed. For a film so hellbent on parenting-as-cosmic-quest, the daughter should not be a McGuffin.

‘Interstellar’ won the American Film Institute 2015 award, and the blurb says:

INTERSTELLAR is proof on earth that artists provide our strongest voice to rage against the dying of the light. Christopher Nolan illuminates the darkness of deepest space with the brilliance of his singular creative vision, while grounding the cosmos in a deeply emotional tale of fathers and daughters. This is cinema at its most ambitious, with Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway and Jessica Chastain providing the beating heart to this awe-inspiring work that reaches across time and space to find meaning in the unexplainable.

 Well, it is a film that is heavy on explanations for its science-fiction – black holes, other dimensions, etc – and that’s what agreeably grounds it. This is where it shines: heady ideas and existential peril that bends time and space.


The imbalance is that the sentimentality outweighs the science-fiction. The aesthetic, effects and ideas are fascinating and wonderfully executed, because Nolan excels at this stuff; indeed, this middle section is apparently credited more to Christopher than his co-writer, Jonathan Nolan. But these strengths are mitigated by the human drama being routine and pedestrianly executed. Hans Zimmer will sweep and soar at the emotional bits, for example (but the score did win an Oscar). It’s very signposted and it is not nearly as smart as it should be; or rather it relationship drama could benefit from being as smart as its concepts. 

The ending is not so much gratuitous as a little unsatisfying. Via Entertainment Weekly:

Nolan’s early take on the ending, however, essentially cuts Cooper off inside the black hole. His script “had the Einstien-Rosen bridge [wormhole] collapse when Cooper tries to send the data back.”

Actually, Jonathan Nolan's original ending would have struck me as more tragic rather than sentimental, and therefore conceptually superior. Science would not necessarily give way to sentiment.

‘Ad Astra’ is more obvious pulpy fun because its flaws are more evident so you can just go along for the ride without thinking too hard. ‘2001: a space odyssey’ remains the pinnacle of Hard Sci-Fi cinema and doesn’t feel the need to explain itself or rely on routine human dramatics. ‘Interstellar’ is better than the former but doesn’t reach the heights of the latter.

When I watched ‘Interstellar’ for a second time, I enjoyed it more as pulp, as the kind of science-fiction I was reading as a teenager (Harry Harrison comes to mind). For me, in this example, “grounding the cosmos in a deeply emotional tale of fathers and daughters” is not respectful of and belittles the cosmos.


·   * For example, that’s me as an adult on the bus trying not to cry as I’m finishing ‘Flowers for Algernon’; that’s me as a teenager wondering why Philip K Dick’s ‘Our Friends from Frolix 8’ has left me feeling so oddly emotional.

·   ** They grew the field for the film and sold the crops.

Saturday, 27 November 2021

Dune - notes on Frank Herbert's novel and Denis Villeneuve's adaptation

 


Dune

Frank Herbert, 1965

 

Fortuitously, Villeneuve’s first part of adapting Frank Herbert’s ‘Dune’ finishes just at the point I had read up to in the book at that time (halfway). The novel has sat in my “to read” pile since I was a teenager smitten with science-fiction, and I have no idea why it has taken a lifetime to get around to reading it. Perhaps I was intimidated by its reputation as “difficult” and/or “dense”? Well, it is dense and uncompromising and the world-building is exemplary, the kind I already knew from Jack Vance; although Vance feels pulpier and Herbert more serious in intent. World building is the genre’s chief pleasure and super-power. It’s enthralling and its place as One Of The Best and Highly Influential is obvious and well earned. It is full to bursting with detail, characters, culture and political intrigue and themes without losing focus or reader.

            

Its themes are the grandest: the intersecting of politics and religion and economics, cultures and war and guilds and totalitarianisms, of mesiahs and their followers, etc. It is full of snippets of wisdom dispensed in fake memoirs and political and religions tomes. It is full of the mechanics of politics and schemes that often feel like the Machievelli’s ‘The Prince’, or Sun Tzu’s ‘The Art of War’. For example: How you pay for military might? Make prison planets. And peppered with existential wisdom such as, “How often it is that the angry man rages denial of what his inner self is telling him.” Or, “the real universe is always one step beyond logic.” But the observations are full of intelligence rather than the platitudes that beset religious enlightenments.

 

‘Dune’ is heavily steeped in Middle Eastern culture – the precious spice = oil, for example – and has much commentary on colonialism and exploitation of resources. Yet whilst sympathetic and respectful of the Fremen natives, it’s a royal outsider that rallies and guides them. The gender politics are slippery too: women are concubines and witches, but they also seem to hold formidable behind-the-curtain power and connivance – they are certainly equal matches for the men, even in combat. The Bene Gesserit, for example, are a formidable sisterhood of female plotting and power committed to a breeding programme meant to result in the Kwisatz Haderach, a calculated Chosen One. Indeed, that they are apparently  "influenced by the tales of Maria Sabina and the sacred mushroom cults of Mexico" (says Wiki) shows the rich variety of inspiration that Herbert used. ‘Dune’ touches on too many bases, surely, to be accused of just one. It’s jammed packed full of weighty ideas and observations.


 

The guiding point is the apparent “Chosen One” status of Paul Atreides, the fifteen-year-old heir to the House of Atreides, trained in arcane ways by his mother and given to visions and reactions from others that he is Muab D’ib, a religious coming. ‘Dune’ certainly wasn’t the first, but one can see its popularity and influence as a seminal Chosen One narrative, even if others overlook its questioning intent. Paul himself is initially reluctant and disbelieving, although events soon bring out seemingly preternatural abilities. The Chosen One status drives him directly in conflict with his mother: he resents her for her part in putting him in that position, the Bene Gesseret breeding programme. By the finale of the novel in which Paul is given the chance to face down and outwit all his enemies and rivals, he is giddy with his omnipotence, even if the last melee is a close call highlighting his mortality. Yet this is tinged with Paul’s cynicism and self-awareness of his status as myth generator that defines his character. And as the fulcrum to several Chosen One legends, this self-awareness and cynicism culminates with his alternating whichever he needs to best his rivals (Paul Atreides, Muad’Dib, Kwisatz Haderach). Herbert may have been influenced by Arthurian mythology, but ‘Dune’ is not fascinated with Romantic Heroism of infallible protagonists. For Herbert, "Dune was aimed at this whole idea of the infallible leader because my view of history says that mistakes made by a leader (or made in a leader's name) are amplified by the numbers who follow without question.”*

 

It's a grand achievement, the mixture of hard and soft science-fiction, of convincing ecological and political realities mixed with futuristic fantasy consistently compelling and intelligent.



 

 

Dune

Director - Denis Villeneuve

Writers - Jon Spaihts (screenplay by), Denis Villeneuve (screenplay by), Eric Roth (screenplay by)

Stars - Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Zendaya

 

And a serious tone, somewhat humourless, is what Villeneuve brings, which seems to me thoroughly in keeping with the novel. This is in inevitable comparison with David Lynch’s madcap adaptation. As Mark Kermode notes, in Lynch’s version there is always a distraction, so you are never bored even as it is unravelling before your very consideration. It’s somewhat a highly enjoyable, compelling misfire where the art design and costumes and effects amaze even as the narrative flounders in seeking purchase. There’s a lot of amusement to watch it gleefully pummel onwards, almost-but-not so-bad-it’s- good. Arguably, the few notes of humour tried for in Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ stick out like a sore thumb, but they are fleeting moments – and seemingly all deceptively crammed in the trailer, which is edited like a Marvel Universe teaser (Action! Quips!).

 

What I found satisfying in Villenueve’s‘Blade Runner 2049’ was the subversion of the “I’m The Chosen One” trope. That’s the very foundation of ‘Dune’,** a primary text for this trope indeed, but I heard a criticism on the Kermode & Mayo film show where someone found all the foreboding and premonitions tiresome, but that is at the crux of the narrative, for it’s all about Paul Atreides being foretold as M’uad Dib. But he is reluctant, not happy at being manipulated into this prophecy; he’s conscientious and he is angry at his mother’s apparent manipulations at making him The Chosen One.

 

One other major criticism is that he is a White Saviour, but the character of Paul is a little more complex than that, and certainly Herbert’s vision is more informed. ‘Dune’ is about colonialism, all the political power play and wrongful disregard of the natives for the sake of plundering the resources. Khaldoun Khelil*** is enlightening on the problems of representation in Villenueve’s adaptation, and certainly in a post-MCU casting world, the casting could/should have been cannier – and surely Iannucci’s ‘The Life and Times of David Copperfield’ showed up the shallowness and inadequacies of the mentality of general casting. Indeed, changing the character Dr Liet Kynes to a black woman (Sharon Duncan-Brewster) hints at greater diversity already being an option.

 

In terms of language, it eloquent in the manner we may associate with canonical classics, but unlike Lynch’s ‘Dune’ it’s not near-impenetrable. There’s long exposition narration to begin with, the kind that always raises puts me dubious, but luckily that is just a stumbling block to the story proper. The secret sign language between Jessica and Paul is a good visual innovation to convey the Bene Gesserit training that they share, which is all embodied in the novel’s prose. Similarly, it does away with voiceovers to replicate the novel’s articulation of thoughts, the kind of voiceover that Lynch used (which I actually liked, in retrospect).

 


Any fan of B I G spaceships will be in Heaven here as they rise from lakes, block out most of the screen as characters disembark, or even the ‘thopters resembling dragonflies. It’s a film with scope and scale with plenty of faultless CGI. There is of course wonderful set design, from the greenery of Caladan (a sequence more expansive than in the novel) to the spacious chambers, endless sand banks and tunnels of Arrakis. It’s perhaps not as shocking/suprising as that of Lynch’s version, but it perhaps feels more organic, more realistic. Surely many will feel like Jonathan Romney: 

 

 “Nowhere near as enjoyable as Villeneuve’s inspired Blade Runner 2049, Dune is an achievement for sure, but watching it is rather like having huge marble monoliths dropped on you for two and a half hours, to the resounding clang of a Hans Zimmer score.”

 

Timothée Chalamet is, of course, too old to match the fifteen-year-old Paul Atreides of the book, but there is a precociousness he exudes, a boyish maturity if you will that suits the character. Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica is surely more weepy than in the book, but like the rest of the star-studded cast, she knows how to play this kind of high theatre. Only Zendaya comes across as an ill-fit, coming too obviously from the American school of feisty female acting (but this may be unfair in the long-run).  

 

Lynch’s version is more fun, but Villeneuve wants to get close to the novel’s sombre tone, and this he does. And perhaps those who enjoy Lynch’s camp appeal may not enjoy Villeneuve’s sincerity and vice versa. And of course it’s twice the reward if you go for both, and there are plenty of us. Villeneuve’s style is of a restrained, underplayed tendency, not typical of the blockbuster style, more an approach associated with indie. So, whereas there is all the spectacle you could want, the dramatic conveyance will leave many cold (certainly, many didn’t engage with ‘Blade Runner 2049’s layers, thinking it lacked for story). And anyway, ‘Dune’ is not a warm story, but a tale of calculation and survival in an objective and manipulated design. There’s something battered about these characters rather than adventure action archetypes.

 

I came away from Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ with a sensation that I had been wowed, and like his ‘Blade Runner’, that it would be on a second watch that I would truly and fully engage. And of course, this is only half the story.


 

·       *  Herbert, Frank (1985). "Introduction". Eye. ISBN 0-425-08398-5.

·     ** So to speak. One comment came about ‘Dune’ was that it was his response to Isaac Asimov’s ‘Foundation’ series.

· *** I owe thanks for this link to Derek Anthony Williams https://www.facebook.com/theneofuturist

Thursday, 11 April 2019

Kin


KIN

Josh and Jonathan Baker, 2018, USA 

Against a backdrop of low-income struggle and a scenery of deserted buildings, black teenager Eli goes scrapping and finds an alien rifle. Meanwhile, his white brother returns from prison to a tetchy father’s homecoming but still has issues with local and lethal lowlife. 

A Tough Love father, a wayward but fun older brother and a stripper with a heart-of-gold. A hint of “chosen one” syndrome. And a ray-gun. With all these elements, the Baker brothers’ ‘Kin’ acts as a full-blooded young male adult fantasy. In this sense, it’s best evaluated as young adult fiction that still has a lot of maturing and self-reflecting to do.

Besides this, the problem seems to be for many commentators that it’s also made up of a blend of genres and the argument is that it satisfies none. Part indie crime drama, part road journey, part sci-fi, part coming-of-age family drama. But such a mash-up is fine by me and keeps things on its toes. It reminds me of such eighties favourites as ‘Tron’, ‘The Last Starfighter’ and ‘Flight of the Navigator’ where a slightly dull and tatty real world gives way to special-effects and Chosen One excitement. I’m far more likely to raise an eyebrow buying into the idea that a ragtag group of bad guys would attack a police station; or that it probably stays too long in the nudity free strip-club where Jimmy (Jack Reynor) acts like an asshole and gets them into trouble. But the genre-blending that might not quite gel and yet marks it out as likable entertainment is surely a central pleasure of genre b-movies: the lack of genre mainstream conformity often redeems the failings and rough edges.

I’m amused at ‘Kin’ acquiring a “not present” grade on commonsensemedia for “consumerism” as we spend a long time in a strip club (but no actual stripping): surely the selling of objectified women qualifies? And then, of course, the central theme of “a magic gun makes boy heroic” is greatly problematic. The film is weak in self-reflection in these areas and leads Glenn Kenny to see it as “insufferable, self-seriously combining shut-in nerdiness with wannabe macho pyrotechnics.  It’s Bro Cinema in all the worst imaginable senses of the term.” Well, I wouldn’t say insufferable, more that it has b-movie charm despite these obvious flaws. I certainly found it less obnoxious than McG’s ‘The Babysitter’ (2017, NetFlix), another male teen fantasy (again, ‘Kin’ reminds me of those eighties young adult flicks). I also probably find it a less stupid male teen fantasy than ‘John Wick’. It helps that it is boosted by the inclusion of two veterans that know this turf well with Dennis Quaid and Jesse Franco, but it’s the unassuming appeal of Myles Truitt as young Eli that grounds the freewheeling drama.

Even with its streak of immaturity, ‘Kin’ still contains comic fun and charm, even if it is distinctly less than its promise.



Monday, 17 December 2018

Spider-man: Into the Spider-Verse




Bob Persichetti & Peter Ramsey 
& Rodney Rothman, 2018, USA

As much as I liked ‘Spider-man: Homecoming’, I still had issues with the use of Marvel’s Mile Morales’ Spider-Man high-school premise. I did feel ‘Homecoming’ got around appropriating a mixed-raced teen’s story by having notable diversity around him, but it seemed however much the comics world was now used to Miles, the cinematic world wasn’t quite ready for a Spider-person of colour. But Marvel’s use of an animated film to introduce Miles to a wider audience seems a smart and canny move: it means they have been able to do whatever they want. From the ‘Spider-verse’ trailer, I also thought Miles was going to be drowned out by too many spider-people – even Peter Porker! – but this also proves not to be the case. 

Blitzing through the multiple origin stories with montages and quips, we quickly get to Miles who looks different here to the comics and is more breezy, confident and less angsty. It’s true we’ve had a lot of Spider-Man angst to go around over the decades, so this really isn’t missed (and why the aww-shucks upbeat Tom Holland Spider-man is so winning). There’s a crowd of huge bad guys – perhaps Kingpin is a little too big in design, just a black hole crowding the frame (but maybe I’ve been spoilt by the wonderfully textured Vincent D’Onofrio Wilson Fisk from the up-and-down ‘Daredevil’ NetFlix series?) – which the script doesn’t care to give backstories to, just relying on fan recognition to fill in the blanks (again, this has to be an advantage of being an animated feature – hey isn’t that Tombstone?). The voice cast do a great job, of course, with Nicolas Cage as Spider-Man Noir being an amusing easter egg. (A list of other easter eggs at Den of Geek.)

It’s fast and always kinetic in a way that animation allows that can be tiresome and in live-action, but held together by a script that doesn’t come to a stop when the emotional bits happen or becomes indecipherable when the action kicks in. Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman’s screenplay is almost as scatological as ‘Deadpool’, with the logistics surely on par with ‘Avengers: Infinity War’. Or, as comics writer Scott Snyder tweeted:

Scott Snyder‏ @Ssnyder1835 

As a writer, #Spiderverse is a deeply inspiring movie. The challenge of that script - in-troducing a new spidey, a new universe, then 4 more new spideys, making it all feel true, exciting, heartbreaking... that math is next level hard and the movie was incredibly good
15/12/18



On top of this, there’s a wealth of varying animation styles – various universes and all that – and a trippy finale that matches anything from ‘Dr. Strange’… and even a good Rubik’s Cube gag. There’s a strain of animation that is hyperactive and often nonsensical, but ‘Into the Spider-verse’, as chock full of stuff and diversion as it is, never loses focus. As over-crowded as this is, it is steered by Spider-people's outsider qualities: the other Spideys are like future options for this brand new one, whether dead, gone -to-seed, moody-noir, silly-ham or heroic young Gwen: but it's not like he has to choose - he's just starting out and finding his bravery.

And it even defiantly saves the Miles Morales subplot of his roommate knowing he’s Spider-man in the back pocket for the next time, regardless of ‘Homecoming’ already pilfering it. Miles’ debut couldn’t have ended up being more striking. Fun, furious, gung-ho, ludicrous and highly entertaining. If this is your kind of thing, it’s the kind of film that you know will reward a repeat viewing even as you watch, a big surprise of exuberance and the joys of the genre and animation.