More movie/TV crap as opposed to 'proper' blogging... Because, watching Law Abiding Citizen last night, I found my expectations (based on the trailer) thoroughly confounded. Here's the setup: Family falls victim to home invasion, father forced to watch as bad guys torture and kill his wife and daughter. Somehow, the evidence is shakey (all DNA evidence was magically inadmissable) so the prosecutor makes a deal with the most vicious of the villains to get the other one - who barely did anything - sent to Death Row. Former family man is Not Happy. Takes ten years to plot a very elaborate revenge. Starts killing everyone involved in the case. Turns out, he's a Q-analogue - that is to say, he builds deadly gadgets for the Government and Military, so undesirable, hard-to-get-at targets can be eliminated cleanly. Hijinks ensue.
Now, given that the 'perpetrator' in this film was himself a victim - not just of a home invasion, but of a very lazy prosecutor and a very obvious miscarriage of justice - I was surprised that he was actually treated as the villain for most of the movie. If anyone had a case for gaining the sympathy of the audience, it was him.
All the while, I was expecting it to turn out that he was playing a game designed to let the Prosecutor discover The Truth - for example, that the home invasion was part of a Government/Military plot to keep the tinkerer in check, and that the killings of anyone involved in that 10-year-old case was part of a greater cover-up. Eventually, it would almost certainly transpire that he was being framed all along... and that the Prosecutor was being used by some shady puppet-master.
And yet we, the audience, were meant to side with the Prosecutor who thought more of his conviction record than his client's need to see proper justice done. We're meant to be horrified when people connected to the case are killed by the myriad complex devices the killer has created, because it's part of some insanely twisted revenge trip...
Maybe I missed something important in the plot or the dialogue, but I think it's strange - not to say exceptionally brave - for Hollywood to portray the victim as the villain on such a grand scale. His family are viciously abused and killed, the so-called Justice System fails him because of a risk-averse Prosecutor, so he takes matters into his own hands. In most other movies, he'd be the hero.
I have to say, I was impressed by all the gadgetry - the single-shot cellphone gun was a genuine shock and left me stunned for a good few minutes - but as the intricacy of the gadgets increased, the tinkerer's insanity became more apparent. His revenge had gone beyond justice and become a jihad, in the worst possible sense.
Painting a victim in that way basically wrecked the movie for me. He had been betrayed, so his vengence was - in Hollywood's usual terms - entirely justified. Sure, it might have been getting rather excessive - I'd have settled for offing the home invasion killer and the Prosecutor (or, for poetic justice, his family), but the Prosecutor was set up as the hero of the piece, despite having so comprehensively failed his past client. Blowing up the paralegals was over the top, and trying to destroy City Hall was just taking the piss, but my confusion over who should have been the protagonist was what really messed up the movie. It could have been making a statement about the abuse and ruin of the US legal system, but it dallied too much with Saw's mechanical trickery, and the gratuitous horror of the so-called 'torture porn' genre (though either it didn't actually show as much as those movies generally would, or it was substantially edited for TV). I thought the clever legal tomfoolery used by the 'victim' was designed to prove that he wasn't actually involved... Turned out it was for his own convenience.
On a vaguely similar note, last night's Being Human was the first real disappointment of series 4, if only because it seemed to recycle old material (Annie's alleged 'blandness', and the suggestion that people find her irritating which, if I remember correctly, was first posited by her murderous former boyfriend). Sadly, it didn't end there... It utilised that dull old device of the new arrival playing divide and conquer, and used Annie's 'special powers' as deus ex machina. It's more than a little frustrating that Annie's poltergeist tendencies are so often touched upon, but are yet to be explored in any depth.
Playing on the character's old insecurities and 'zapping' the villain with her 'magic' is bad enough - not to mention a complete waste of Lenora Critchlow - but coupled with a situation where a new arrival is somehow more trustworthy than existing friends (however tenuous and new the friendship) just seems lazy. It's not just that it's retreading ground that was covered with Mitchell and George, but that it's suggesting no-one has learned anything from their experiences together. The one almost believable moment was Annie telling Hal that she didn't want to know about his past, but even that was muddied somewhat by her assertions in the last couple of series that Mitchell's past wasn't important, only for her to be horrified when his past caught up with him, and he turned out to be every bit the monster he'd warned her he was. To have gone through that, and then deny Hal the opportunity to be open was foolish, and - going by the end of the episode - is signposting upcoming events.
As a minor note, I find it unfathomable that someone as houseproud and family-focussed as Annie would not know Tom's birthday, which was another linchpin for the fractures that occurred in this episode.
In fact, versus their behaviour in previous episodes, all three of them behaved like children, and without the common sense that they've displayed in the past... And, sadly, the Scooby Doo reference made by the villain of the piece was all too accurate.
The other thing that bugged me - and has bugged me since it first turned up, casually, in the first episode of this series - is the idea of werewolf blood being toxic to vampires. Pretty sure that hasn't been even mentioned in any of the preceding three series... and the vampires have never before shied away from shedding the blood of werewolves without the use of protective gear, so it came across like an obvious plot device. Now the purpose of that device has been revealed, it seems all too convenient.
That said, I have confidence in Mr Whithouse... I'm still not certain of the apparent direction of this series, but I hope it can return to form next week... when another old friend shows up.
Monday, 27 February 2012
Sunday, 26 February 2012
Covert Activity
There's a running joke in my family about my father's memory, specifically when it comes to Bond movies. Since one of the main UK television channels will run a 'Bond Season' at least once a year (traditionally in the run-up to Christmas because, y'know, Bond is full of seasonal good cheer), and the peripheral channels seem to run the movies pretty much all year, it's almost impossible to avoid Bond these days.
Nevertheless, whenever someone is foolish enough to announce that a Bond movie is running on any given day, my father will say "I don't think I've seen that one..." and look most hurt when my mother tells him not to be so ridiculous, he saw it in the cinema when it first came out, and it's been on telly almost every year since.
ITV4 currently seems to be running all the Bond movies and, today, I've been sort-of watching From Russia With Love. What has struck me is that I know for a fact that I've seen each and every one of the Bond films at least once (the other running joke in my family is that, despite our certainty that he's already seen the movies and that there's something we haven't seen on another channel, we almost invariably ended up watching the Bond movie anyway) I can't remember anything about most of them either.
I remember certain scenes - I defy any heterosexual male to forget the scene in Dr. No where Ursula Andress comes up out of the sea onto the beach, and then not cringe at Die Another Day's foul and unnecessary duplication with Halle Berry - some characters, a few gadgets or cars and occasionally a few elements of plot... but, by and large, I don't remember Bond films.
So... everything I remember about the Bond movies, in order:
Dr. No (1962)
Watching that now, so that'd be cheating but - honestly - I remembered virtually nothing about it. The only familiar scene was the bit with the couple enjoying their punting on the Thames, and Bond saying "I couldn't agree more" before pouncing on Sylvia Trench, only to be called away by Moneypenny. He tells her he has been "Looking into an old case" and, when Trench intrudes repeatedly on his phone conversation with her, Moneypenny opines that the old case "sounds interesting".
Goldfinger (1964)
Only watched this recently, so it's reasonably fresh in my mind... still...
I remember more about this because it was the first Bond movie to be turned into a multi-platform home computer game which, true to form (broken by Goldeneye on the N64, 12 years later), was shockingly bad... still...
I suppose you could say that it shows how good an agent Bond was that even eyewitnesses have trouble recalling his exploits... but, let's face it, many of the movies just weren't very good... Once Sean Connery left the series, they got sillier and sillier, focusing more on the cheap innuendo and gadgetry than any kind of spy work. Things got back on a slightly better track when Pierce Brosnan took over, but there was still too much played for laughs and, much as I liked Samantha Bond's Moneypenny, it was all too obviously an attempt at empowering a long-downtrodden and neglected character, and showing up Bond for the dinosaur he was. Part of me rather hopes they bring her back with Daniel Craig, because I get the feeling they could reignite the magic that Connery and Lois Maxwell shared. Maxwell's Moneypenny knew exactly who - and what - Bond was, and her 'pining' was as much a shared joke between colleagues as it was genuine attraction... Probably more so. Daniel Craig and Samantha Bond could bring a new dimension to that, I suspect.
Nevertheless, whenever someone is foolish enough to announce that a Bond movie is running on any given day, my father will say "I don't think I've seen that one..." and look most hurt when my mother tells him not to be so ridiculous, he saw it in the cinema when it first came out, and it's been on telly almost every year since.
ITV4 currently seems to be running all the Bond movies and, today, I've been sort-of watching From Russia With Love. What has struck me is that I know for a fact that I've seen each and every one of the Bond films at least once (the other running joke in my family is that, despite our certainty that he's already seen the movies and that there's something we haven't seen on another channel, we almost invariably ended up watching the Bond movie anyway) I can't remember anything about most of them either.
I remember certain scenes - I defy any heterosexual male to forget the scene in Dr. No where Ursula Andress comes up out of the sea onto the beach, and then not cringe at Die Another Day's foul and unnecessary duplication with Halle Berry - some characters, a few gadgets or cars and occasionally a few elements of plot... but, by and large, I don't remember Bond films.
So... everything I remember about the Bond movies, in order:
Dr. No (1962)
- Ursula Andress... Oh my, yes
- "Underneath the mango tree/Ma honey and me..."
- Superstitions about a fire-breathing dragon on an island
- Large, black sidekick, portrayed as loyal but a bit thick
- Dr. No has prosthetic hands and is clearly a caucasian guy with winged eyeliner
- Underground base, possibly in a volcano, where Bond and Ryder are given new clothes and a nice dinner
Watching that now, so that'd be cheating but - honestly - I remembered virtually nothing about it. The only familiar scene was the bit with the couple enjoying their punting on the Thames, and Bond saying "I couldn't agree more" before pouncing on Sylvia Trench, only to be called away by Moneypenny. He tells her he has been "Looking into an old case" and, when Trench intrudes repeatedly on his phone conversation with her, Moneypenny opines that the old case "sounds interesting".
Goldfinger (1964)
- Woman gets painted gold and dies due to dermal asphyxiation. (Myth Busted, thanks to Kari Byron)
- The plot has something to do with gold...
- Bond gets strapped to a table for a laser-castration
- "Do you expect me to talk, Goldfinger?" "No, Mr Bond. I expect you to die."
- Theme song about "Miss-Tah Goooooldfingaaaaah... he's the man... the man with the Midas Touch"
- Nowt
- 'Bond' is killed at the very beginning, but it's not really him
- "You only live twice, Mr Bond" is the villain's comeback to one of Bond's smart-arse remarks
Only watched this recently, so it's reasonably fresh in my mind... still...
- Bond's informant will only give up the information if Bond agrees to romance his daughter (really?), played by Diana Rigg
- The song "We Have All The Time In The World" turns up in almost every scene
- Multinational cast, none of whom speak very good English apart from Diana Rigg.
- Bond gets married, wife gets shot in revenge, Bond is in denial when the police arrive. "It's alright, you see... we have all the time in the world..." - actually quite a sad moment, and proof that Lazenby wasn't the ruin of the movie.
- Shirley Bassey theme!
- Diamonds being used for some kind of laser?
- Paul McCartney theme
- Jane Seymour as a fortune teller whose powers only work because she's a virgin
- That is, until Bond comes along with a stacked Tarot deck - every card is 'The Lovers'... and the fortune teller didn't see that coming?
- Roger Moore being smarmy
- Yaphet Kotto as the villain... who gets killed by being inflated by super-compressed air from Bond's secret rebreather?
- Spooky, seemingly indestructible voodoo guy with top hat and no trousers.
- Guy with prosthetic arm, courtesy of crocodiles... Was there a Peter Pan joke? A crocodile that had swallowed a ticking bomb?
- Christopher Lee as an assassin who never misses
- He misses Bond. A lot
- A hall of mirrors
- The little guy from Fantasy Island
- In fact, wasn't this one mostly set on Fantasy Island?
- The golden gun is disguised as a cigarette lighter
- Little guy tries to kill Bond as he escapes with Bond Girl. Silly little guy
- Nowt
- Richard Kiel as Jaws - falls in love with cute, geeky looking blonde. "Oh well, here's to us" is the only line he ever speaks, toasting their happiness as the space station collapses around them
- Some kind of Egyptian labyrinth?
- A spacecraft that looks remarkably like the Space Shuttle, in a movie made at least 2 years before Columbia's maiden flight (though, obviously, development of the shuttle had begun long before Moonraker!)
- The villain has a beard
- Sheena Easton theme song
- Bond sneaks into the villain's lair using a submersible modelled on a crocodile - this has since been referenced in the Metal Gear Solid games, where Snake can wear a crocodile head mask and a white tuxedo
- The villain refers to her pet octopus as "my little octopussy"
- Its tank gets shot out
- Is the villain's lair a women-only island?
I remember more about this because it was the first Bond movie to be turned into a multi-platform home computer game which, true to form (broken by Goldeneye on the N64, 12 years later), was shockingly bad... still...
- Christopher Walken overacting as the villain... Riding around in a personal blimp.
- Grace Jones was the scariest Bond Girl ever, but strangely one of the most memorable
- Something about blowing up the San Andreas fault (though I only remember that because of the game!)
- Car chase in Paris with half a Citroen 2CV?
- Oh, God... Duran Duran did the theme!
- Tim Dalton's first outing as Bond
- Shooting Maryam D'Arbo in the hand, then making some quip along the lines of "it scared the living daylights out of her"
- Riding down a snowy mountain in her cello case
- Theme by A-Ha
- Awesome stunt with the capture of the villain's plane at the beginning, which neatly links to Felix Leiter's wedding, as he and Bond arrive by parachute
- Leiter gets eaten by a shark, and yet somehow survives mostly intact
- "He disagreed with something that ate him" on a note pinned to his body, proving that Bond doesn't have a monopoly on stupid one-liners
- Leiter's new wife isn't so lucky - she's killed, rape may have been implied
- Even so, by the end of the movie, Leiter is having a laugh with Bond from his hospital bed
- Robert Davi is the drug-baron villain, who's moving his cocaine dissolved in petroleum
- Benicio Del Toro is his psychotic sidekick
- Bond's license to kill is revoked, and he's told to stay away from the villain, but has vowed personal revenge
- Features one of very few references to Bond's marriage in OHMSS
- Another loyal-but-thick large, black sidekick, mirroring Dr. No
- Someone gets exploded in a decompression chamber
- Bond Girl had a lazy eye
- Gladys Knight theme song
- Tina Turner theme song - almost as good as Shirley Bassey
- Sean Bean as another Double-O agent
- Lots of Russians, one of whom played by Robbie Coltrane
- Some kind of EMP weapon, fired from space
- The tank chase
- OMG - what a twist, the villain is another Double-O agent... why hadn't that been done before?
- Pierce Brosnan was actually quite cool as Bond
- "You're a sexist, misogynist dinosaur... a relic of the Cold War" - Judi Dench as M says what we've all been thinking since Roger Moore took over as Bond, and the movies got steadily sillier
- Judi Dench is the best M evar!!!!111!!!!1!!
- A villain called 'Onatopp'? Really? And she kills by crushing people with her legs, often during sex?
- Sheryl Crow theme song - shame the movie wasn't as good as the song!
- Villain is a news mogul who makes his own headlines happen
- Teri Hatcher was only ever seen from the chest up, or from behind, as she was heavily pregnant at the time of filming
- Michelle Yoeh as an awesome, arse-kicking Chinese agent who manages to repeatedly out-spy Bond (weren't there rumours of her getting a spin-off series?)
- Shirley Manson theme song, played over a title sequence featuring lots of oily naked women, cluing you in to the fact that oil will be a major part of the plot
- MI6 building gets a hole blown in the side, where a vault is located... which somehow links to the Quartermaster's section so Bond can steal his tricked-out fishing boat and launch it through the hole out to the Thames to give chase to a sniper who - for no obvious reason - was watching from her boat.
- Desmond Llewelyn's final outing as the curmudgeonly Quartermaster: "I've always tried to teach you two things, Double-O Seven. First, never let them see you bleed." "And the second?" "Always have an escape plan." This can actually bring a tear to my eye now, since he delivers the line while going down on a small personal elevator platform, and he died shortly after the film was completed.
- Robert Carlisle was the villain... or was he?
- 3D hologram indicating a bullet lodged in his brain - Bond mimes picking it out
- Denise Richards as Doctor Christmas Jones? Are you taking the piss?
- "I thought Christmas only comes once a year" Ah, right. That's why the stupid name. Grow up, scriptwriter!
- "The world is not enough" is apparently the Bond family motto
- Madonna's terrible theme song... that wasn't even really a song.
- Bond had the crap kicked out of him, and had been left for dead when a mission in Korea went wrong
- Long hair and beard is not a good look for Pierce Brosnan
- Halle Berry turns up as Jinx - awesome character, rumours of her own spin-off series
- Innuedo-filled conversation about ornithology on the beach
- Hovercraft used on land
- The invisible car... WTF?
- The ice palace
- The guy with diamonds embedded in his face - caught in an explosion (caused by Bond) during indentity-changing surgery
I suppose you could say that it shows how good an agent Bond was that even eyewitnesses have trouble recalling his exploits... but, let's face it, many of the movies just weren't very good... Once Sean Connery left the series, they got sillier and sillier, focusing more on the cheap innuendo and gadgetry than any kind of spy work. Things got back on a slightly better track when Pierce Brosnan took over, but there was still too much played for laughs and, much as I liked Samantha Bond's Moneypenny, it was all too obviously an attempt at empowering a long-downtrodden and neglected character, and showing up Bond for the dinosaur he was. Part of me rather hopes they bring her back with Daniel Craig, because I get the feeling they could reignite the magic that Connery and Lois Maxwell shared. Maxwell's Moneypenny knew exactly who - and what - Bond was, and her 'pining' was as much a shared joke between colleagues as it was genuine attraction... Probably more so. Daniel Craig and Samantha Bond could bring a new dimension to that, I suspect.
Saturday, 25 February 2012
The Wasted Journey
So there's me, champing at the bit, getting all excited about picking up The Last Story today... and, when I got back to the shop with which I placed my preorder, I learned that their stocks had been cancelled. Not just the Limited Edition, either. The game, it seems, is unlikely to ever be stocked there.
Undaunted, I tried another shop... Same story.
I was advised to very quickly order the Limited Edition online, so I came straight home and did just that - thereby wasting my train fare completely - but it seems that HMV might have had it in stock... Which is a bit of a bugger, as it means perhaps I could have been playing it now, rather than whinging about not having it because the specialist retailers have had their allocations withdrawn.
In other news, my PC's external powered speakers have been getting increasingly flakey - the power button won't stay depressed. Thankfully, I have a couple of other pairs knocking about - not to mention headphones - so it was just a case of swapping them out. Of course, my powered replacements have a similar, push-button on/off switch, so it may only be a short time before they're knackered in exactly the same way. That said, the button is on the top, rather than the front, so it's less likely to be accidentally jarred.
On the downside, they lack the 'bass boost' function, leaving my PC's output sounding sometimes a little tinny, but that's bearable. I think I can adjust the PC's audio output to compensate somewhat...
In other news, it seems I was needlessly worried about my dubious boiler. Each time it dropped from 1.5 bar to 1.0 bar, it took about 30 days to do so - no shortening this time round - and now the weather seems to have improved, I've actually had the central heating off for a few days, so it's functioning just as it was during last year, when I only had it on for hot water. Good news, since the last thing I need at the moment is to have to shell out for a new boiler, or even further repairs.
On the subject of boilers, though, I was woken up early this morning by the sound of drilling. Turned out to be next door who, by the looks of things, are having a new boiler fitted. And possibly a new gas meter. Nice of them to warn everyone that noisy would would be taking place first thing on a Saturday morning.
Just started watching the old comedy version of Casino Royale... I remember catching the very end many years ago, and I still haven't seen the very beginning - switching on about 15 minutes in - but I'm already struck by the number of exceedingly dodgy Scottish accents... That, and SMERSH attempting to destroy Sir James Bond's 'celibate image'. Har har...
Undaunted, I tried another shop... Same story.
I was advised to very quickly order the Limited Edition online, so I came straight home and did just that - thereby wasting my train fare completely - but it seems that HMV might have had it in stock... Which is a bit of a bugger, as it means perhaps I could have been playing it now, rather than whinging about not having it because the specialist retailers have had their allocations withdrawn.
In other news, my PC's external powered speakers have been getting increasingly flakey - the power button won't stay depressed. Thankfully, I have a couple of other pairs knocking about - not to mention headphones - so it was just a case of swapping them out. Of course, my powered replacements have a similar, push-button on/off switch, so it may only be a short time before they're knackered in exactly the same way. That said, the button is on the top, rather than the front, so it's less likely to be accidentally jarred.
On the downside, they lack the 'bass boost' function, leaving my PC's output sounding sometimes a little tinny, but that's bearable. I think I can adjust the PC's audio output to compensate somewhat...
In other news, it seems I was needlessly worried about my dubious boiler. Each time it dropped from 1.5 bar to 1.0 bar, it took about 30 days to do so - no shortening this time round - and now the weather seems to have improved, I've actually had the central heating off for a few days, so it's functioning just as it was during last year, when I only had it on for hot water. Good news, since the last thing I need at the moment is to have to shell out for a new boiler, or even further repairs.
On the subject of boilers, though, I was woken up early this morning by the sound of drilling. Turned out to be next door who, by the looks of things, are having a new boiler fitted. And possibly a new gas meter. Nice of them to warn everyone that noisy would would be taking place first thing on a Saturday morning.
Just started watching the old comedy version of Casino Royale... I remember catching the very end many years ago, and I still haven't seen the very beginning - switching on about 15 minutes in - but I'm already struck by the number of exceedingly dodgy Scottish accents... That, and SMERSH attempting to destroy Sir James Bond's 'celibate image'. Har har...
Friday, 24 February 2012
Strategic Thinking
OK, so instead of popping over to Uxbridge to pick up The Last Story, I decided to pull out Xenoblade again, hopefully getting myself into the right mindset for another sprawling adventure RPG (which I'll probably pop out and get tomorrow).
A while back, I spent some time in a forum about the game, and found references to a "difficulty spike around level 50". Having played a bit further today - not much, mainly a bit of grinding to get myself back into the swing of Xenoblade's occasionally awkward battle controls ("I pressed 'A'... No, really, I pressed 'A'... For fuck's sake, I've pressed 'A' three fucking times now... Select that goddamn move!") - it seems to me that the difficulty spike only really occurs of you attempt to take the obvious - not to say obviously wrong - route into a particular location.
There are some giant enemies that claim to be Level 56, but they have serious defences, and some dangerously overpowered moves, and a tendency to use several in sequence. Thing is, they're easily avoided. The first one you encounter, there's a clear bypass route. The second is entirely optional - you'll only even find it if you fully explore the area rather than following the path set out by the story. In the next area, there's a further two of them, plus an optional encounter with a seriously overpowered enemy of a much higher level. The main entrance to a particular fortress is further protected by a trio of rather dangerously upgraded enemies... but the cutscene that plays when first one enters this area indicates a back door that appears unguarded. Make your way toward that entrance and, while you do find some guards, they're far more easily trounced than those protecting the bridge at the front. Then, when you get inside, things are challenging, but not repeatedly fatal (except when the controls don't respond when you want them to).
I suspect that you're not supposed to go up against the Level 56 behemoths until you're at least Level 70.
Thing is, there are obviously those players who choose to take the path of most resistance and succeed. That just blows my mind... I know I'm not the swiftest, most tactical thinker on these games. Most battles, I'm reduced to picking special moves as they recharge, and hoping for the best. More often than I care to relate, that doesn't exactly work out for me. There were a couple of times that, having seen one of my cohorts topple an enemy, I had the presence of mind to use a move that dazes a toppled enemy, but invariably I'd get wiped out when a much tougher enemy used one of its special attacks immediately after I'd wasted the Monado's power on an attack that wasn't quite as devastating as I'd hoped.
What I really need to do is figure out what the precognition icons mean... that may help me avoid getting utterly slaughtered.
...I think I shall give my folks a buzz tomorrow, and see about paying a visit. I know my mother is fixing lunches for her mother at the weekends, but they should be able to squeeze me in for an afternoon/evening... There was a movie on TV a couple of weeks back, based on one of the books I've recently read. I missed it, but they recorded it... and I'm very keen to see it.
A while back, I spent some time in a forum about the game, and found references to a "difficulty spike around level 50". Having played a bit further today - not much, mainly a bit of grinding to get myself back into the swing of Xenoblade's occasionally awkward battle controls ("I pressed 'A'... No, really, I pressed 'A'... For fuck's sake, I've pressed 'A' three fucking times now... Select that goddamn move!") - it seems to me that the difficulty spike only really occurs of you attempt to take the obvious - not to say obviously wrong - route into a particular location.
There are some giant enemies that claim to be Level 56, but they have serious defences, and some dangerously overpowered moves, and a tendency to use several in sequence. Thing is, they're easily avoided. The first one you encounter, there's a clear bypass route. The second is entirely optional - you'll only even find it if you fully explore the area rather than following the path set out by the story. In the next area, there's a further two of them, plus an optional encounter with a seriously overpowered enemy of a much higher level. The main entrance to a particular fortress is further protected by a trio of rather dangerously upgraded enemies... but the cutscene that plays when first one enters this area indicates a back door that appears unguarded. Make your way toward that entrance and, while you do find some guards, they're far more easily trounced than those protecting the bridge at the front. Then, when you get inside, things are challenging, but not repeatedly fatal (except when the controls don't respond when you want them to).
I suspect that you're not supposed to go up against the Level 56 behemoths until you're at least Level 70.
Thing is, there are obviously those players who choose to take the path of most resistance and succeed. That just blows my mind... I know I'm not the swiftest, most tactical thinker on these games. Most battles, I'm reduced to picking special moves as they recharge, and hoping for the best. More often than I care to relate, that doesn't exactly work out for me. There were a couple of times that, having seen one of my cohorts topple an enemy, I had the presence of mind to use a move that dazes a toppled enemy, but invariably I'd get wiped out when a much tougher enemy used one of its special attacks immediately after I'd wasted the Monado's power on an attack that wasn't quite as devastating as I'd hoped.
What I really need to do is figure out what the precognition icons mean... that may help me avoid getting utterly slaughtered.
...I think I shall give my folks a buzz tomorrow, and see about paying a visit. I know my mother is fixing lunches for her mother at the weekends, but they should be able to squeeze me in for an afternoon/evening... There was a movie on TV a couple of weeks back, based on one of the books I've recently read. I missed it, but they recorded it... and I'm very keen to see it.
Further Overthinking
Although, thankfully, this was all about the book I've been reading since finishing The Ghost. I think six days is a record finishing time, when it comes to my reading.
The book in question is No Time For Goodbye by Linwood Barclay. Can't say I'd ever heard of him, but apparently he's a columnist for a newspaper in Toronto. The book was given to me by a friend who was clearing the chaff from her shelves (which is to say, anything that wasn't going to be read a second time, not that it was all utter crap), with the dubious recommendation that I might be more interested in the way it was written than with the story itself.
Which wasn't entirely correct, as it turned out.
In a nutshell, this book tells the story of a woman who lost her family back when she was a rebellious teen, has spent 25 years wondering what happened to them... and then finds out. And that's literally 'lost', as in 'they disappeared, overnight, without explanation, never to be seen again'.
I'm not quite sure what I was expecting from this book, but it certainly built expectations for something. Probably something more than the actual outcome. By turns, I found myself wondering "Is it time travel? Aliens? Clones?" but the solution turned out to be rather more mundane.
There were several points where I felt the author was signposting things far too clearly, far too early (at least a chapter ahead of time in some cases). Some of it seemed rather contrived, some of it seemed entirely pointless. The characters were often rather stereotypical (the TV show host - all smiles and glamour; the 'psychic' - all too obviously only in it for the money... but does she have a genuine insight? Hey, let's set that thread up and then ignore it completely!) and the 'twist' at the end really just seemed daft. There were a couple of times I had to backtrack a few pages (chapters?) to double-check the names of peripheral characters, and then it just seemed as though certain elements of the story hadn't been tightened up as much as they might, or that those same elements had been hastily tied up separately (and awkwardly) because they didn't seem to logically connect after all.
I have to confess that I found it a very compelling read. I've mentioned before that there have been books I've read that I just couldn't put down - I'd decide to read to the first chunk of a new chapter before turning out the lights and going to sleep, only to find myself finishing that chapter and moving on to the next. And the next. And the next. That certainly happened - a lot - with No Time For Goodbye. In fact, part of the reason I got through its fifty chapters - spread across 435 pages - in under a week was that I'd regularly blast through three or more chapters in one sitting. Hell, thinking it through, I must have averaged 10 chapters a night. Granted some of them are short. The 'alternate' chapters - the ones in italics - are anything from a few lines to only little more than a page. I felt very motivated to find out "just what the fuck is going on here?"
The main characters are drawn rather strangely. Cynthia, the protagonist, isn't exactly sympathetic. Her emotional ocean goes from calm to tsunami at the drop of a hat (literally! Ahem...) and, even taking the bizarre events of her past into account, most of it just doesn't ring true. Unless, perhaps, she is just completely batshit insane, and far too unstable to have even the sometimes strained relationship she has with her husband, the narrator.
And then there's that narrator, Terry. An English teacher who spends much of his narrative swearing like a sailor, and yet somehow, when bundled into a van by a couple of thugs, he gives them the impression that might instruct them to "unhand me!"... And not only that, but he then confirms that he would have said that next? Sorry, that just beggars belief. He maybe comes across as a little inept, but certainly not effete.
I quite liked his relationship with his troubled star pupil, and how that spilled into the later parts of the story, when he meets her new father figure, but that coincidence seemed far too great... far too fortunate and convenient.
The very end of the main story was tied up in a similarly convenient fashion. It was like one of those bad TV movies that get onto daytime TV, featuring faded stars of yesteryear. And, just like them, there was another twist after the end of the main story... A twist which bordered on the ridiculous, not to mention pointless, and somewhat damaging to the credibility of earlier parts of the story. Far too much in the story hinged on people keeping their mouths shut after behaving stupidly out of character. Often while drunk.
OK, it might not have been better if it had all hinged on time-travelling alien clones but, hell, something that far out would certainly have been preferable.
In other news, today should be the release date for The Last Story... I've yet to receive a text message or phone call from the folks at GameStation, with whom I've reserved a copy, but I may just wander over on the off-chance. I'm sure there are other things I can do in Uxbridge...
The book in question is No Time For Goodbye by Linwood Barclay. Can't say I'd ever heard of him, but apparently he's a columnist for a newspaper in Toronto. The book was given to me by a friend who was clearing the chaff from her shelves (which is to say, anything that wasn't going to be read a second time, not that it was all utter crap), with the dubious recommendation that I might be more interested in the way it was written than with the story itself.
Which wasn't entirely correct, as it turned out.
In a nutshell, this book tells the story of a woman who lost her family back when she was a rebellious teen, has spent 25 years wondering what happened to them... and then finds out. And that's literally 'lost', as in 'they disappeared, overnight, without explanation, never to be seen again'.
I'm not quite sure what I was expecting from this book, but it certainly built expectations for something. Probably something more than the actual outcome. By turns, I found myself wondering "Is it time travel? Aliens? Clones?" but the solution turned out to be rather more mundane.
There were several points where I felt the author was signposting things far too clearly, far too early (at least a chapter ahead of time in some cases). Some of it seemed rather contrived, some of it seemed entirely pointless. The characters were often rather stereotypical (the TV show host - all smiles and glamour; the 'psychic' - all too obviously only in it for the money... but does she have a genuine insight? Hey, let's set that thread up and then ignore it completely!) and the 'twist' at the end really just seemed daft. There were a couple of times I had to backtrack a few pages (chapters?) to double-check the names of peripheral characters, and then it just seemed as though certain elements of the story hadn't been tightened up as much as they might, or that those same elements had been hastily tied up separately (and awkwardly) because they didn't seem to logically connect after all.
I have to confess that I found it a very compelling read. I've mentioned before that there have been books I've read that I just couldn't put down - I'd decide to read to the first chunk of a new chapter before turning out the lights and going to sleep, only to find myself finishing that chapter and moving on to the next. And the next. And the next. That certainly happened - a lot - with No Time For Goodbye. In fact, part of the reason I got through its fifty chapters - spread across 435 pages - in under a week was that I'd regularly blast through three or more chapters in one sitting. Hell, thinking it through, I must have averaged 10 chapters a night. Granted some of them are short. The 'alternate' chapters - the ones in italics - are anything from a few lines to only little more than a page. I felt very motivated to find out "just what the fuck is going on here?"
The main characters are drawn rather strangely. Cynthia, the protagonist, isn't exactly sympathetic. Her emotional ocean goes from calm to tsunami at the drop of a hat (literally! Ahem...) and, even taking the bizarre events of her past into account, most of it just doesn't ring true. Unless, perhaps, she is just completely batshit insane, and far too unstable to have even the sometimes strained relationship she has with her husband, the narrator.
And then there's that narrator, Terry. An English teacher who spends much of his narrative swearing like a sailor, and yet somehow, when bundled into a van by a couple of thugs, he gives them the impression that might instruct them to "unhand me!"... And not only that, but he then confirms that he would have said that next? Sorry, that just beggars belief. He maybe comes across as a little inept, but certainly not effete.
I quite liked his relationship with his troubled star pupil, and how that spilled into the later parts of the story, when he meets her new father figure, but that coincidence seemed far too great... far too fortunate and convenient.
The very end of the main story was tied up in a similarly convenient fashion. It was like one of those bad TV movies that get onto daytime TV, featuring faded stars of yesteryear. And, just like them, there was another twist after the end of the main story... A twist which bordered on the ridiculous, not to mention pointless, and somewhat damaging to the credibility of earlier parts of the story. Far too much in the story hinged on people keeping their mouths shut after behaving stupidly out of character. Often while drunk.
OK, it might not have been better if it had all hinged on time-travelling alien clones but, hell, something that far out would certainly have been preferable.
In other news, today should be the release date for The Last Story... I've yet to receive a text message or phone call from the folks at GameStation, with whom I've reserved a copy, but I may just wander over on the off-chance. I'm sure there are other things I can do in Uxbridge...
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Repetition
Now, I'm a huge fan of Being Human, the BBC TV series created by Toby Whithouse, revolving around the everyday lives of a ghost, a vampire and a werewolf, so I'm very pleased that it's back for a fourth series. It lost Aiden Turner at the end of series 3 (so he could go off and portray a dwarf in The Hobbit), it lost Sinead Keenan in between series 3 and 4, then lost Russell Tovey (again, to the lure of Hollywood) during the first episode of series 4. Considering Tovey was the only holdover from the pilot episode, that means than Lenora Critchlow is now the longest-serving member of the cast, despite not playing Annie in the pilot. Wow.
The original (series) trio had such an amazing rapport (I refuse to use the word 'chemistry') that I was initially very dubious about the series continuing beyond Mitchell's departure, let alone that of George (and Nina). So much of it seemed to key on the interplay and mannerisms of Turner, Tovey and Critchlow - possibly one of the finest ensemble casts in a British sitcom/drama - that it seemed doomed to fail after their departure, like one of those awful manufactured pop bands with the continually changing lineup (Sugababes, I'm looking at you!). I'm happy to say that series 4 has been just as good as the previous three so far, successfully introducing a whole new ghost/vampire/werewolf trio - Pearl, Hal and Leo - then whittling them down and returning the series to something like to original format.
Of course, it's not really the same... Hal and Tom don't share the same bond as Mitchell and George, and probably never will. Hal had a similar bond with Leo, but Leo died. Tom's never had that kind of bond with any vampire, so it's likely to be more than a little tense all the way. Hal has Mitchell's struggle with 'addiction' coupled with George's neuroses and has been keeping himself away from people for so long, he's forgotten how to deal with them. Tom seems to be aiming for 'noble savage' - he knows (and, unlike George, accepts) exactly what he is, but doesn't see that as a reason for being impolite (except to vampires), and yet he's essentially socially retarded and doesn't blend into a crowd in the same way that George would. Hal doesn't seem to 'fit in' anywhere - too posh in some ways, but generally too insular. Tom doesn't 'fit in' anywhere either - he's essentially feral, thanks to his upbringing. You can see how these two are eventually going to hit it off because they are so different, and yet in the same place in their lives - and very much in need of each other in exactly the same way that Mitchell and George needed each other, whether they know it or not. Their arguments over Tom's seemingly endless supply of stakes can be hilarious. And Annie has it harder than ever, trying to get these two mortal enemies to cohabit safely while protecting George and Nina's baby from the rest of the vampires and - possibly - from either Hal or Tom as well.
The dialogue and the incidental characters are as brilliant as ever, and the situations the characters find themselves in - both the mundane and the dangerous - are believable. I'm not sure what I make of the 'future' scenario, in a world supposedly ruled by vampires... but only a glimpse has thusfar been seen.
However, sometime during the last couple of episodes, I realised that certain elements of the story had been recycled from earlier series... and I'm not yet sure how I feel about such obvious - and unnecessary - patterns.
Mitchell first met George when the latter was working in a café. George was attacked by a group of vampires, who were then called off by Mitchell, suggesting that he was renowned and respected in vampire circles. Mitchell saw George as his chance at escape and redemption. George saw Mitchell as a kindred spirit and protector.
Hal and Leo met in the vampire underground 'dog fighting' circuit. Hal - renowned and respected in vampire circles - saw Leo as his chance at escape and redemption. Leo didn't see Hal as a protector - he was happy to throw a fight and end it all, rather than be the killer the vampires wanted - but he did see him as a kindred spirit, and someone in need of acceptance - both of others and himself.
A very similar café situation was set up in series 4, seemingly for the sole purpose of bringing Hal and Tom their similar moment. Hal was instructed to find a job. Tom brought him into the café he'd been working in (which already seems to be frequented by vampires, since Tom keeps weapons in the back, and will quite happily 'take a break' to chase them down, get information out of them and, usually, kill them). Hal learned that the vampires were planning to attack Tom at the café and tried to get him away before it happened. When that failed, he helped Tom fight them off.
It doesn't help that Hal is occasionally comes across as a hastily rewritten Mitchell, but why the fixation of cafés? OK, what could be more mundane than a greasy spoon... but, still...
The thing is, it's so well written and performed that it's easy to just sit back and enjoy the show, so perhaps none of this is important... there's just this nagging sensation that it's spending too long setting up the familiar situation, rather than forging on with its own story.
In other news, one of my neighbours (or one of their visitors) managed to throw up - over the balcony, I'd guess - right near the entrance to the main staircase. I suppose I should be glad it was out in the open, rather than actually in the stairwell, but I'd have been more glad if they'd done it in the nearest lavatory - and flushed - rather than puking on the floor and leaving it alone... because, sure as hell, none of our neighbours is going to clean it up.
It's looking like a nice day today... I may pop out for a wander...
The original (series) trio had such an amazing rapport (I refuse to use the word 'chemistry') that I was initially very dubious about the series continuing beyond Mitchell's departure, let alone that of George (and Nina). So much of it seemed to key on the interplay and mannerisms of Turner, Tovey and Critchlow - possibly one of the finest ensemble casts in a British sitcom/drama - that it seemed doomed to fail after their departure, like one of those awful manufactured pop bands with the continually changing lineup (Sugababes, I'm looking at you!). I'm happy to say that series 4 has been just as good as the previous three so far, successfully introducing a whole new ghost/vampire/werewolf trio - Pearl, Hal and Leo - then whittling them down and returning the series to something like to original format.
Of course, it's not really the same... Hal and Tom don't share the same bond as Mitchell and George, and probably never will. Hal had a similar bond with Leo, but Leo died. Tom's never had that kind of bond with any vampire, so it's likely to be more than a little tense all the way. Hal has Mitchell's struggle with 'addiction' coupled with George's neuroses and has been keeping himself away from people for so long, he's forgotten how to deal with them. Tom seems to be aiming for 'noble savage' - he knows (and, unlike George, accepts) exactly what he is, but doesn't see that as a reason for being impolite (except to vampires), and yet he's essentially socially retarded and doesn't blend into a crowd in the same way that George would. Hal doesn't seem to 'fit in' anywhere - too posh in some ways, but generally too insular. Tom doesn't 'fit in' anywhere either - he's essentially feral, thanks to his upbringing. You can see how these two are eventually going to hit it off because they are so different, and yet in the same place in their lives - and very much in need of each other in exactly the same way that Mitchell and George needed each other, whether they know it or not. Their arguments over Tom's seemingly endless supply of stakes can be hilarious. And Annie has it harder than ever, trying to get these two mortal enemies to cohabit safely while protecting George and Nina's baby from the rest of the vampires and - possibly - from either Hal or Tom as well.
The dialogue and the incidental characters are as brilliant as ever, and the situations the characters find themselves in - both the mundane and the dangerous - are believable. I'm not sure what I make of the 'future' scenario, in a world supposedly ruled by vampires... but only a glimpse has thusfar been seen.
However, sometime during the last couple of episodes, I realised that certain elements of the story had been recycled from earlier series... and I'm not yet sure how I feel about such obvious - and unnecessary - patterns.
Mitchell first met George when the latter was working in a café. George was attacked by a group of vampires, who were then called off by Mitchell, suggesting that he was renowned and respected in vampire circles. Mitchell saw George as his chance at escape and redemption. George saw Mitchell as a kindred spirit and protector.
Hal and Leo met in the vampire underground 'dog fighting' circuit. Hal - renowned and respected in vampire circles - saw Leo as his chance at escape and redemption. Leo didn't see Hal as a protector - he was happy to throw a fight and end it all, rather than be the killer the vampires wanted - but he did see him as a kindred spirit, and someone in need of acceptance - both of others and himself.
A very similar café situation was set up in series 4, seemingly for the sole purpose of bringing Hal and Tom their similar moment. Hal was instructed to find a job. Tom brought him into the café he'd been working in (which already seems to be frequented by vampires, since Tom keeps weapons in the back, and will quite happily 'take a break' to chase them down, get information out of them and, usually, kill them). Hal learned that the vampires were planning to attack Tom at the café and tried to get him away before it happened. When that failed, he helped Tom fight them off.
It doesn't help that Hal is occasionally comes across as a hastily rewritten Mitchell, but why the fixation of cafés? OK, what could be more mundane than a greasy spoon... but, still...
The thing is, it's so well written and performed that it's easy to just sit back and enjoy the show, so perhaps none of this is important... there's just this nagging sensation that it's spending too long setting up the familiar situation, rather than forging on with its own story.
In other news, one of my neighbours (or one of their visitors) managed to throw up - over the balcony, I'd guess - right near the entrance to the main staircase. I suppose I should be glad it was out in the open, rather than actually in the stairwell, but I'd have been more glad if they'd done it in the nearest lavatory - and flushed - rather than puking on the floor and leaving it alone... because, sure as hell, none of our neighbours is going to clean it up.
It's looking like a nice day today... I may pop out for a wander...
Wednesday, 22 February 2012
Ahem...
And just as I'm starting to get all mopey, I bash out a fairly quick full-body cartoon, ripe for colouring, in not very long at all. Strange.
Even stranger, I'm pretty happy with it. Perfect it isn't, but it turned out OK.
Who knows what wonders will occur in the morrow...
Even stranger, I'm pretty happy with it. Perfect it isn't, but it turned out OK.
Who knows what wonders will occur in the morrow...
Meh...
It feels as though it's going to be one of those weeks.
I'm back in my "staying up late, sleeping till lunchtime, unable/unwilling to focus" state and, despite managing a halfway decent bit of sketching over the weekend, I just don't seem to be 'in the mood' for anything.
Even the videogames have fallen by the wayside - haven't played Xenoblade since before Christmas, and haven't returned to Skyward Sword since reaching the underground section of the desert... And Friday sees the release of The Last Story, yet another game for me to start and then give up on for months at a time.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing... I mean, I stopped playing Silent Hill: Shattered Memories for almost exactly a year, then played it through to the end in only a few sittings. That said, I stopped at a particularly troublesome part because I knew what was coming... I have no such excuse for Xenoblade or Skyward Sword.
The most annoying part of my meh-ness is that I've figured out almost the whole of a story that's been nagging me to write it for ages, but I just can't settle down and write it.
At least I'm not wasting hours on end writing a massively long blog post instead :P
And just when I think a walk outside might be therapeutic, it starts raining...
I'm back in my "staying up late, sleeping till lunchtime, unable/unwilling to focus" state and, despite managing a halfway decent bit of sketching over the weekend, I just don't seem to be 'in the mood' for anything.
Even the videogames have fallen by the wayside - haven't played Xenoblade since before Christmas, and haven't returned to Skyward Sword since reaching the underground section of the desert... And Friday sees the release of The Last Story, yet another game for me to start and then give up on for months at a time.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing... I mean, I stopped playing Silent Hill: Shattered Memories for almost exactly a year, then played it through to the end in only a few sittings. That said, I stopped at a particularly troublesome part because I knew what was coming... I have no such excuse for Xenoblade or Skyward Sword.
The most annoying part of my meh-ness is that I've figured out almost the whole of a story that's been nagging me to write it for ages, but I just can't settle down and write it.
At least I'm not wasting hours on end writing a massively long blog post instead :P
And just when I think a walk outside might be therapeutic, it starts raining...
Saturday, 18 February 2012
A Quirk
It's a little-known fact that I am absurdly superstitious.
Not in the 'never walking under ladders, stepping on the cracks in paving stones, or letting a black cat cross my path' way - even I find those ridiculous. I just have this bizarre belief system which tells me, for example, that I'm never going to win the lottery - if I get rich, it'll be through hard work, not luck.
Of course, I realise that this is a self-fulfilling prophesy - after all, how could I win the lottery if I don't play? There's just this nagging sensation in the back of my head that, even playing only £1 a week, it'd never work out in my favour... It's a bit too much like gambling, and yet another way for the Government to make money out the people who most need to hang on to their money.
Actually, that's not so much a 'superstition' as a 'conspiracy theory'... Ho hum.
I also firmly believe (as a result of many experiences) that it is 'bad form' (sounds better than saying 'unlucky') to discuss things with anyone that are 'in progress'. Whether it's a sketch that's taking days or - Heavens forfend - an actual piece of writing, I've always found that my interest flags considerably if I discuss - or show - the project to anyone.
The unfortunate thing is that, particularly with writing, it's considered beneficial to get another pair of eyes to look over it, hopefully giving worthwhile feedback rather than blanket praise (friends and family) or non-committal murmurings (er... my family, specifically). I suppose the ideal is that you share such things with someone you trust (not to rip you off, for example) but who has no vested interest in keeping you sweet, and so will offer that holy grail of 'constructive criticism'.
What tends to happen with me is that I'll write portions of something - generally centred around conversations between characters - then put it aside once I've exhausted the bits that are foremost on my mind and attempt to organise everything else. If, during this time, I am foolish enough to show the bits and pieces to anyone, when I next look at them myself - with a view to adding to the text - it somehow appears... wrong. All the stuff I've managed to organise in my head in the meantime no longer fits the events or the tone of what I wrote before, and so I find that I've taken one step forward and two steps back.
In a similarly superstitious way, when a friend or relative is unwell (or in hospital), I tend not to want to talk about it until it's all completely over. That's a much more recent superstition, owing to the untimely death of a friend and correspondent. No-one can know what 'complications' might occur even following a highly successful operation. You hear all kinds of weird stories about things left inside people during surgery, and bugs picked up in hospital, let alone when they are discharged, that are devastating to someone who is 'in recovery'.
In other news, I finished reading 'The Ghost' by Robert Harris last night. Holy crap, that has a twist. It's actually very clever about it, though. The book spends so much time pointing the finger in one specific, constant direction but, all the while, it's subtly telling you something different is going on. 'Literary sleight of hand' is the phrase, except it's not really even disguising the truth. It's there, all the way, but the story is written in such a way that you're just not looking. The protagonist's almost imperturbable sarcasm leads to some very funny moments in his narrative (generally about events in the story that are anything but funny), but he is key to the one thing I found disappointing and hard to believe - right at the end, and for no discernible reason, he applies the correct cipher to the autobiography's 'hidden code'. Admittedly, he's been given clues... but to settle on that ciper so quickly just seems bizarre. It didn't ruin the story, however - by that point I was so engrossed by it all that I just took it in stride. It is only in retrospect that I find it a stumbling point... And what do people always tell me about overthinking?
Not in the 'never walking under ladders, stepping on the cracks in paving stones, or letting a black cat cross my path' way - even I find those ridiculous. I just have this bizarre belief system which tells me, for example, that I'm never going to win the lottery - if I get rich, it'll be through hard work, not luck.
Of course, I realise that this is a self-fulfilling prophesy - after all, how could I win the lottery if I don't play? There's just this nagging sensation in the back of my head that, even playing only £1 a week, it'd never work out in my favour... It's a bit too much like gambling, and yet another way for the Government to make money out the people who most need to hang on to their money.
Actually, that's not so much a 'superstition' as a 'conspiracy theory'... Ho hum.
I also firmly believe (as a result of many experiences) that it is 'bad form' (sounds better than saying 'unlucky') to discuss things with anyone that are 'in progress'. Whether it's a sketch that's taking days or - Heavens forfend - an actual piece of writing, I've always found that my interest flags considerably if I discuss - or show - the project to anyone.
The unfortunate thing is that, particularly with writing, it's considered beneficial to get another pair of eyes to look over it, hopefully giving worthwhile feedback rather than blanket praise (friends and family) or non-committal murmurings (er... my family, specifically). I suppose the ideal is that you share such things with someone you trust (not to rip you off, for example) but who has no vested interest in keeping you sweet, and so will offer that holy grail of 'constructive criticism'.
What tends to happen with me is that I'll write portions of something - generally centred around conversations between characters - then put it aside once I've exhausted the bits that are foremost on my mind and attempt to organise everything else. If, during this time, I am foolish enough to show the bits and pieces to anyone, when I next look at them myself - with a view to adding to the text - it somehow appears... wrong. All the stuff I've managed to organise in my head in the meantime no longer fits the events or the tone of what I wrote before, and so I find that I've taken one step forward and two steps back.
In a similarly superstitious way, when a friend or relative is unwell (or in hospital), I tend not to want to talk about it until it's all completely over. That's a much more recent superstition, owing to the untimely death of a friend and correspondent. No-one can know what 'complications' might occur even following a highly successful operation. You hear all kinds of weird stories about things left inside people during surgery, and bugs picked up in hospital, let alone when they are discharged, that are devastating to someone who is 'in recovery'.
In other news, I finished reading 'The Ghost' by Robert Harris last night. Holy crap, that has a twist. It's actually very clever about it, though. The book spends so much time pointing the finger in one specific, constant direction but, all the while, it's subtly telling you something different is going on. 'Literary sleight of hand' is the phrase, except it's not really even disguising the truth. It's there, all the way, but the story is written in such a way that you're just not looking. The protagonist's almost imperturbable sarcasm leads to some very funny moments in his narrative (generally about events in the story that are anything but funny), but he is key to the one thing I found disappointing and hard to believe - right at the end, and for no discernible reason, he applies the correct cipher to the autobiography's 'hidden code'. Admittedly, he's been given clues... but to settle on that ciper so quickly just seems bizarre. It didn't ruin the story, however - by that point I was so engrossed by it all that I just took it in stride. It is only in retrospect that I find it a stumbling point... And what do people always tell me about overthinking?
Friday, 17 February 2012
I Swear, This Is The Last Time I'll Mention The Millennium Trilogy*
(*At least until the US version of The Girl who Played with Fire and The Girl who Kicked the Hornets' Nest hit the screens)
So here's the thing: I have read all three of Stieg Larsson's rather wonderful Millennium novels, watched the US movie based on '...Dragon Tattoo' while I was about halfway through reading it, and have now watched the entire Swedish TV miniseries based upon the Millennium Trilogy (or 'The Girl Trilogy' as it seems to be known in some circles).
Some have said that the US movie is an abomination which ruins a good story, and that the Swedish version is far superior.
I am not one of those people.
Don't get me wrong, the TV miniseries is pretty good... it just takes far too many liberties with the story. I've already commented on the simplifications made in the US movie, and I fully expect that the remaining books will receive much the same treatment by Hollywood... But, frankly, if they're even half as good as Steven Zaillian's take on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, they're going to significantly improve upon on the bizarre omissions prevalent in the TV series.
The changes made for the series make certain plot elements seem unnecessary, contrived or downright weird. Not wishing to give anything away, but "Erika's big decision" from book 3 was removed entirely, yet one of the consequential subplots was worked in by a different means, and it seemed to be pointing the finger at one of the employees at Millennium... only for that strand to be left hanging - presumed solved - in the denouement.
There's a cliffhanger to the first part of '...Kicked the Hornets' Nest' that not only isn't in the book, but directly contradicts part of the evidence later presented in the court case. In fact, most of the case was similarly mangled and, while the very end of the trial was pretty much the same as the book - with a key witness for the Prosecution being arrested - it all seemed like a losing battle until very near that moment, whereas the book shows that the Defence is merely biding its time.
Oddly, though, the thing that most rankled was that no attention was paid to Niedermann's phobia and the resultant hallucinations so, since he didn't have a single line of dialogue that I can recall, he ended up being entirely without character.
I'm not remotely surprised that they toned down Blomkvist's relationships (he's basically with Erika the whole time) since they have no significant bearing on the plot... but the involvement of the Vanger family in the story seems to end in when their mystery is solved, whereas there's a Vanger on Millennium's board right till the end of the books. Blomkvist's involvement in the police investigations is purely professional, so his big turning point at the end just doesn't happen, and the handling of his reconciliation with Salander was, in my opinion, misjudged - it felt as if it was left hanging and undecided, whereas the book is quite clear about it.
Had I not read the books, I'm sure I would have thoroughly enjoyed the TV series. In fact, it might have prompted me to try the books... and then only be disappointed in retrospect. I'm sure a perfectly faithful adaptation would have been considerably more expensive and time-consuming to make, most likely ending up with a 12-part miniseries. In fact, on the dubious strength of the Swedish adaptation, I rather hope that the US version of '...Kicked the Hornets' Nest' gets turned into a 2-part movie, like the final volume of the Harry Potter series. The first part could be the events surrounding Salander's time in hospital, while the second could focus on the court case and all the intrigue that's happening behind the scenes... there's more than enough of that, certainly.
(Addendum: One really funny thing is that, in episode 3 ('...Played with Fire' part 1) Lisbeth kits out her new apartment straight from Ikea - just like in the book - and unpacks exactly the same Kitchen Starter Set as I got when I moved into my flat!)
So here's the thing: I have read all three of Stieg Larsson's rather wonderful Millennium novels, watched the US movie based on '...Dragon Tattoo' while I was about halfway through reading it, and have now watched the entire Swedish TV miniseries based upon the Millennium Trilogy (or 'The Girl Trilogy' as it seems to be known in some circles).
Some have said that the US movie is an abomination which ruins a good story, and that the Swedish version is far superior.
I am not one of those people.
Don't get me wrong, the TV miniseries is pretty good... it just takes far too many liberties with the story. I've already commented on the simplifications made in the US movie, and I fully expect that the remaining books will receive much the same treatment by Hollywood... But, frankly, if they're even half as good as Steven Zaillian's take on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, they're going to significantly improve upon on the bizarre omissions prevalent in the TV series.
The changes made for the series make certain plot elements seem unnecessary, contrived or downright weird. Not wishing to give anything away, but "Erika's big decision" from book 3 was removed entirely, yet one of the consequential subplots was worked in by a different means, and it seemed to be pointing the finger at one of the employees at Millennium... only for that strand to be left hanging - presumed solved - in the denouement.
There's a cliffhanger to the first part of '...Kicked the Hornets' Nest' that not only isn't in the book, but directly contradicts part of the evidence later presented in the court case. In fact, most of the case was similarly mangled and, while the very end of the trial was pretty much the same as the book - with a key witness for the Prosecution being arrested - it all seemed like a losing battle until very near that moment, whereas the book shows that the Defence is merely biding its time.
Oddly, though, the thing that most rankled was that no attention was paid to Niedermann's phobia and the resultant hallucinations so, since he didn't have a single line of dialogue that I can recall, he ended up being entirely without character.
I'm not remotely surprised that they toned down Blomkvist's relationships (he's basically with Erika the whole time) since they have no significant bearing on the plot... but the involvement of the Vanger family in the story seems to end in when their mystery is solved, whereas there's a Vanger on Millennium's board right till the end of the books. Blomkvist's involvement in the police investigations is purely professional, so his big turning point at the end just doesn't happen, and the handling of his reconciliation with Salander was, in my opinion, misjudged - it felt as if it was left hanging and undecided, whereas the book is quite clear about it.
Had I not read the books, I'm sure I would have thoroughly enjoyed the TV series. In fact, it might have prompted me to try the books... and then only be disappointed in retrospect. I'm sure a perfectly faithful adaptation would have been considerably more expensive and time-consuming to make, most likely ending up with a 12-part miniseries. In fact, on the dubious strength of the Swedish adaptation, I rather hope that the US version of '...Kicked the Hornets' Nest' gets turned into a 2-part movie, like the final volume of the Harry Potter series. The first part could be the events surrounding Salander's time in hospital, while the second could focus on the court case and all the intrigue that's happening behind the scenes... there's more than enough of that, certainly.
(Addendum: One really funny thing is that, in episode 3 ('...Played with Fire' part 1) Lisbeth kits out her new apartment straight from Ikea - just like in the book - and unpacks exactly the same Kitchen Starter Set as I got when I moved into my flat!)
Thursday, 16 February 2012
WTF, Neighbours?
As I begin to write, it is precisely 1.08 in the morning, and my neighbours have just started vacuuming.
I know I'm not hallucinating this because the sound of a vacuum is often what wakes me up on a Sunday morning (around 6.30 in the morning, to be precise). I hear the whine of the electric motor, its pitch changing subtly as it labours against different floor types. I hear the occasional scrape of the vacuum head on the skirting boards. I hear it rattle as it's forced underneath furniture and jiggled for what I can only assume they believe to be 'maximum effect'.
I'm not quite sure what I'm doing up at this ungodly hour (other than having various story elements nagging at me), but I'm pretty sure it's time for me to go to bed.
Perhaps I should get up in a few hours, and do my vacuuming.
I know I'm not hallucinating this because the sound of a vacuum is often what wakes me up on a Sunday morning (around 6.30 in the morning, to be precise). I hear the whine of the electric motor, its pitch changing subtly as it labours against different floor types. I hear the occasional scrape of the vacuum head on the skirting boards. I hear it rattle as it's forced underneath furniture and jiggled for what I can only assume they believe to be 'maximum effect'.
I'm not quite sure what I'm doing up at this ungodly hour (other than having various story elements nagging at me), but I'm pretty sure it's time for me to go to bed.
Perhaps I should get up in a few hours, and do my vacuuming.
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
I Never Thought I'd Say This, But...
I watched the (two-part!) original Swedish adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo yesterday, having picked up the DVD boxed set at the weekend, and I'd have to say that it is less true to the book than the US version.
Yes, you read that right.
The only sins of the US version, by and large, are of omission. Great chunks are left out (Blomkvist's prison time, anyone?) but the rest follows the book quite closely. In the Swedish version, enormous amounts are rewritten, to a greatly detrimental effect.
For example: Salander involves herself in the Blomkvist's investigation into the Vangers by emailing him the crucial hint about the names and numbers he finds in Harriet's personal effects. The book goes to great lengths to express that, if sufficiently interested, she might have done her own investigation but that, her report on Blomkvist complete, she would have felt no real reason to carry on snooping on his machine - she wasn't interested at that point. The American movie stays true to this, and the clue is revealed by chance, by Blomkvist's daughter, exactly as per the book... The Swedish version makes Salander the deus ex machina.
The dumbest mistake it makes is having Blomkvist call the police after his ordeal towards the end. In the book, the whole thing is hushed up, to avoid ruining the Vangers (and, thus, Millennium magazine). There's a point where Henrik Vanger, Dirch Frode, Blomkvist and a police officer are discussing events... While a similar conversation happened in the book, it occurred minus the copper.
It does get one thing right, however... Well, right-ish. For the final denouement, Blomkvist does travel to Australia in the Swedish version, while the American version oversimplifies (probably to avoid the expense of shifting production to the other side of the planet for a few short minutes of film) almost to the point of stupidity. The problem with this in the Swedish version is that Blomkvist is apparently allowed to make the trip before serving his prison time. Sweden is either very liberal with its criminals and their travel rights while on a suspended sentence, or that puts the Swedish movie well outside the boundaries of 'suspension of disbelief'.
There is more... Hell, I could nitpick this thing for weeks... Suffice it to say that, broadly speaking, it's a good film... but it changes too much of the story for no discernible reason. I can see why the US version was cut down and simplified (largely to fit the running time), but I don't see why the Swedish version erased some details and added new ones. Neither dwelt on the changing fortunes of Millennium magazine, but I felt it was better to leave them out entirely (US) than to muddle them up and chuck them in at random (Swedish). The handling of the Wennerstrom affair was similarly dubious.
Casting is interesting... Michael Niqvist is no Daniel Craig but, let's face it, Craig is only perceived as remotely glamourous because of a very few specific roles. He's rugged rather than pretty. Even so, I'd have to accept than Niqvist suits the role of Mikael Blomkvist slightly better. Lena Endre and Marika Lagercrantz are just as attractive as their counterparts in the US movie (Robin Wright and Geraldine James, as Erika Berger and Cecilia Vanger, respectively), just not Hollywood attractive. Christopher Plummer, meanwhile, makes a far craftier Henrik Vanger than Sven-Bertil Taube, who channels more of Henrik's 'favourite uncle' vibe, and doesn't dangle a golden carrot in front of Blomkvist. The biggest difference is the casting of Martin, of course, but only because I've probably never seen Peter Haber in any other role, while Stellan Skargård was playing very much against type compared to his roles in any other film I've seen. His part is substantially reduced in the Swedish version, so his secrets are less of a shock. The weirdest casting choice was that of Anita Vanger, and here also the Swedish version got it right: Ewa Fröling was an excellent choice, both for this and the later chapters of the Millennim Trilogy. Joely Richardson is at least ten years too young, which may explain why the role was altered slightly in the US version.
In other news, the weekend was comparatively busy - visiting the folks on Saturday and taking over a home-made dessert for them to sample, then going out to see two movies on Sunday. The movies in question couldn't have been more different: The Woman in Black and The Muppets.
Since I've already written about one movie - and, yes, I'm sorry, even more ranting about that Stieg fucking Larsson fucking Millennium fucking trilogy - I'll keep this brief...
The Woman in Black is a traditional horror movie - it relies on chills rather than gore and viscera. Some of the 'what did I just see?' tricks are still used in today's slasher movies, but TWiB is classy stuff. I'd have to assume that most of the audience had never seen a horror movie before, because some of 'em were literally shrieking at the slightest scare (the crow in the bedroom right near the start? Really?). The film relied on showing things so briefly that the audience doubted their eyes right along with the protagonist. We were put in his shoes, rather than required to passively observe the horrors as they unfolded. I've heard lukewarm things about Dan Radcliffe's first major foray outside JK Rowling's universe, but I think he nails the role of Arthur Kipps: He's shellshocked, emotionally distant, and very driven. This is a very young man who lost his wife at the very time he gained a son, and he's clearly unable to cope. On the verge of losing his job, he's given one last chance to redeem himself, and he becomes obsessed with seeing the job through to its completion, in spite of heavy resistance from almost everyone he encounters, not least the film's eponymous ghost. I did start to wonder if the book makes reference to him taking Laudanum, or some similar drug, based on some of his behaviour. Suffice it to say, this film does not have a happy ending.
Or does it? See it, and decide for yourself.
For my part, I hope Mr Radcliffe will consider working with Hammer again in the future. He may not be the next Christopher Lee or Peter Cushing, but he has the right look, and a certain indefinable something that makes him ideal for Hammer's old-style approach to the traditional chillers.
The Muppets... was a very different film to what I was expecting. Either I've never before seen a full Muppets movie, it they're not normally this format. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't the usually like theatrical adaptations, where you can almost imagine that you're seeing something performed on stage? This... has some elements of that kind of production, but it's played completely straight (or as far as that's possible) as if Muppets are somehow everyday members of modern society, albeit no longer as famous as they were in their heyday. There's a ridiculous plot about a tycoon wanting to drill for oil beneath the Muppet theatre (in downtown LA?) and lots on in-jokes about movie-making tricks ("Let's travel by map, it'll be faster!"), plenty of fourth wall breakages and some pretty good songs. Having been a long-time fan of the Muppets, there were a couple of points that almost brought a tear to my eye but the effect was very nearly ruined by the rather forced inclusion of the "Mah-Na-Mah-Na" song right at the end. Sure, I like the song... but context, people, context.
Last night's astronomy lecture was a massive let-down... Something of an example of the lecturer's passion for the subject overriding common sense about making a presentation. That it was based on a PowerPoint slideshow was bad enough (yes, he actually read from the slides, rather than using them to support his lecture), but he ended up skipping through a good chunk of them as they were full of - his words, here - "boring graphs". Nice that he saw they were boring eventually, but he really should have figured that out before the show...
Yes, you read that right.
The only sins of the US version, by and large, are of omission. Great chunks are left out (Blomkvist's prison time, anyone?) but the rest follows the book quite closely. In the Swedish version, enormous amounts are rewritten, to a greatly detrimental effect.
For example: Salander involves herself in the Blomkvist's investigation into the Vangers by emailing him the crucial hint about the names and numbers he finds in Harriet's personal effects. The book goes to great lengths to express that, if sufficiently interested, she might have done her own investigation but that, her report on Blomkvist complete, she would have felt no real reason to carry on snooping on his machine - she wasn't interested at that point. The American movie stays true to this, and the clue is revealed by chance, by Blomkvist's daughter, exactly as per the book... The Swedish version makes Salander the deus ex machina.
The dumbest mistake it makes is having Blomkvist call the police after his ordeal towards the end. In the book, the whole thing is hushed up, to avoid ruining the Vangers (and, thus, Millennium magazine). There's a point where Henrik Vanger, Dirch Frode, Blomkvist and a police officer are discussing events... While a similar conversation happened in the book, it occurred minus the copper.
It does get one thing right, however... Well, right-ish. For the final denouement, Blomkvist does travel to Australia in the Swedish version, while the American version oversimplifies (probably to avoid the expense of shifting production to the other side of the planet for a few short minutes of film) almost to the point of stupidity. The problem with this in the Swedish version is that Blomkvist is apparently allowed to make the trip before serving his prison time. Sweden is either very liberal with its criminals and their travel rights while on a suspended sentence, or that puts the Swedish movie well outside the boundaries of 'suspension of disbelief'.
There is more... Hell, I could nitpick this thing for weeks... Suffice it to say that, broadly speaking, it's a good film... but it changes too much of the story for no discernible reason. I can see why the US version was cut down and simplified (largely to fit the running time), but I don't see why the Swedish version erased some details and added new ones. Neither dwelt on the changing fortunes of Millennium magazine, but I felt it was better to leave them out entirely (US) than to muddle them up and chuck them in at random (Swedish). The handling of the Wennerstrom affair was similarly dubious.
Casting is interesting... Michael Niqvist is no Daniel Craig but, let's face it, Craig is only perceived as remotely glamourous because of a very few specific roles. He's rugged rather than pretty. Even so, I'd have to accept than Niqvist suits the role of Mikael Blomkvist slightly better. Lena Endre and Marika Lagercrantz are just as attractive as their counterparts in the US movie (Robin Wright and Geraldine James, as Erika Berger and Cecilia Vanger, respectively), just not Hollywood attractive. Christopher Plummer, meanwhile, makes a far craftier Henrik Vanger than Sven-Bertil Taube, who channels more of Henrik's 'favourite uncle' vibe, and doesn't dangle a golden carrot in front of Blomkvist. The biggest difference is the casting of Martin, of course, but only because I've probably never seen Peter Haber in any other role, while Stellan Skargård was playing very much against type compared to his roles in any other film I've seen. His part is substantially reduced in the Swedish version, so his secrets are less of a shock. The weirdest casting choice was that of Anita Vanger, and here also the Swedish version got it right: Ewa Fröling was an excellent choice, both for this and the later chapters of the Millennim Trilogy. Joely Richardson is at least ten years too young, which may explain why the role was altered slightly in the US version.
In other news, the weekend was comparatively busy - visiting the folks on Saturday and taking over a home-made dessert for them to sample, then going out to see two movies on Sunday. The movies in question couldn't have been more different: The Woman in Black and The Muppets.
Since I've already written about one movie - and, yes, I'm sorry, even more ranting about that Stieg fucking Larsson fucking Millennium fucking trilogy - I'll keep this brief...
The Woman in Black is a traditional horror movie - it relies on chills rather than gore and viscera. Some of the 'what did I just see?' tricks are still used in today's slasher movies, but TWiB is classy stuff. I'd have to assume that most of the audience had never seen a horror movie before, because some of 'em were literally shrieking at the slightest scare (the crow in the bedroom right near the start? Really?). The film relied on showing things so briefly that the audience doubted their eyes right along with the protagonist. We were put in his shoes, rather than required to passively observe the horrors as they unfolded. I've heard lukewarm things about Dan Radcliffe's first major foray outside JK Rowling's universe, but I think he nails the role of Arthur Kipps: He's shellshocked, emotionally distant, and very driven. This is a very young man who lost his wife at the very time he gained a son, and he's clearly unable to cope. On the verge of losing his job, he's given one last chance to redeem himself, and he becomes obsessed with seeing the job through to its completion, in spite of heavy resistance from almost everyone he encounters, not least the film's eponymous ghost. I did start to wonder if the book makes reference to him taking Laudanum, or some similar drug, based on some of his behaviour. Suffice it to say, this film does not have a happy ending.
Or does it? See it, and decide for yourself.
For my part, I hope Mr Radcliffe will consider working with Hammer again in the future. He may not be the next Christopher Lee or Peter Cushing, but he has the right look, and a certain indefinable something that makes him ideal for Hammer's old-style approach to the traditional chillers.
The Muppets... was a very different film to what I was expecting. Either I've never before seen a full Muppets movie, it they're not normally this format. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't the usually like theatrical adaptations, where you can almost imagine that you're seeing something performed on stage? This... has some elements of that kind of production, but it's played completely straight (or as far as that's possible) as if Muppets are somehow everyday members of modern society, albeit no longer as famous as they were in their heyday. There's a ridiculous plot about a tycoon wanting to drill for oil beneath the Muppet theatre (in downtown LA?) and lots on in-jokes about movie-making tricks ("Let's travel by map, it'll be faster!"), plenty of fourth wall breakages and some pretty good songs. Having been a long-time fan of the Muppets, there were a couple of points that almost brought a tear to my eye but the effect was very nearly ruined by the rather forced inclusion of the "Mah-Na-Mah-Na" song right at the end. Sure, I like the song... but context, people, context.
Last night's astronomy lecture was a massive let-down... Something of an example of the lecturer's passion for the subject overriding common sense about making a presentation. That it was based on a PowerPoint slideshow was bad enough (yes, he actually read from the slides, rather than using them to support his lecture), but he ended up skipping through a good chunk of them as they were full of - his words, here - "boring graphs". Nice that he saw they were boring eventually, but he really should have figured that out before the show...
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
The End of a Millennium
No, I'm not twelve years late in making some sarcastic comment on the transition from the twentieth century and into the 21st, thus neatly ticking over from the second millennium to the third. I refer, of course, to the Stieg Larsson trilogy about a socially inept woman who manages to become embroiled in all kinds of intrigue, which I finished reading this morning.
I've mentioned them a couple of times in my recent posts but mainly wrote about the US movie of the first book, and the character Mikael Blomkvist. I shall now attempt to redress that balance.
The the matter of Blomkvist, I will add only that his relationships do become a little implausible after a while... Or is it just a sense of jealousy that this fictional character (whose work ethic, overall morality and general stubbornness are not dissimilar to my own) attracts the attention of the kind of women who are not afraid to act on their impulses? Strong women who, while not necessarily as confident as they try to appear, are nevertheless not constantly falling victim to their own insecurities. In fact, if Larsson's female characters are any representation of Swedish women, perhaps I should up sticks and move to Sweden.
It seems unfair to describe even Lisbeth Salander - the titular 'girl with the dragon tattoo' - as the main character in any of the books... In the first book, she's largely peripheral - a researcher who gets recruited into Blomkvists investigation into the murder of Harriet Vanger. By the second book, the story has outgrown her. She's one of many characters in a complex subterfuge that began before her birth. She spends much of the last book incarcerated in one way or another, with everyone else running about around her, seeking to help or to hinder, to break the plot open or to keep it concealed. Nevertheless, she is a key character.
One thing that struck me is that her dragon tattoo is only described in any real detail once... and that's about halfway through book three. That description does not fit either the photographs on the books' covers or the appearance of the tattoo in both the original Swedish movie and the US remake. In the book, it's a full-colour tattoo (red, green and black), and seemingly quite large. In the US movie, it occupies only part of her shoulderblade and it's black only. Seems like a bit of a gaffe to me, but that's movies for you...
It's also interesting to note that I found her significantly less likeable in the books than in the US movie, precisely because so much of the book is given over to her internal monologues. She's a moody, inflexible, judgemental bitch who doesn't even try to interact with people most of the time. Then again, who could blame her, given what she'd gone through? The topic of Asperger's Syndrome comes up in book three (if not earlier), but is only discussed as a possibility. We see her interest in all kinds of esoteric fields of mathematics and physics and, while they're a fairly logical extension of her other activities, there's little in the way of connection because Lisbeth doesn't understand these aspects of herself.
She's described as very moral. She looks after those she cares about, always repays her debts... but her morality also extends to punishing those who wrong her and, if she can get away with it, those who generally do wrong. To me, it seems inconceivable that she wouldn't try to involve the authorities in some instances, but it's very carefully explained that she has excellent reasons for not doing so... Yet still, it nags.
Nowhere near as bad as the few Harry Potter books I read, which always ended up getting flung across the room as I screamed "just fucking speak to fucking Dumbledore you fucking halfwit!", but it does nag.
The depiction of a newspaper office in the final book felt eerily familiar. Not that I've worked on a newspaper, but the bickering, infighting, arrogance, lack of cooperation, vindictiveness and general immaturity seems to be more common than I'd thought, and the board-level stupidity is certainly nothing new: "Short term loss for long term gain? What madness is this?" pretty much sums up the attitudes of the upper echelons of my former employers - more concerned with their own pay packets and bonuses in the here and now, than the long-term viability of the company and its products.
Shady Government Agencies are becoming rather clichéd these days, but Larsson's take on the subject was quite chilling in its application of logic, even when the world had changed around it to the extent that its continued existence was its greatest weakness. By the time the necessary action is taken, events have progressed so far that the're forced to follow a path which has only one possible conclusion, though there were a couple of occasions that I thought they might be more successful that they were... Particularly when they zeroed in on one specific character, as I'd heard a rumour to the effect that the character in question did not live till the end of the book.
But Larsson doesn't muck about with limp deus ex machina. When his problems are solved, they're solved through quick thinking and timely action and, more often than not, there's (the impression of) a good chance of failure. Switching rapidly between multiple points of view and reliving the same periods of time from each perspective cranks up the tension quite successfully.
There's one other aspect that nags at me, though. A good portion of the second book relates to mathematical puzzles, then there's a tiny snatch of dialogue near the beginning of book three about an injury that might affect one's ability to deal with such puzzles. It transpires that no such effect has occurred, except in one specific instance of memory loss which is, quite literally, a moot point. The dialogue hint felt very heavy-handed and, with no corroboration with later events, rather pointless... yet I'm sure it was meant to accomplish something.
While all three books tended to drag at the beginning, once they got going, I did find them rather difficult to put down. Several times, I'd get to the end of a chapter and think "OK, I'll just take a peek at the first part of the next chapter, then go to sleep" only to find myself reading to the end of the next chapter, and making the same deal with myself all over again.
Larsson's characters are well-drawn when they need to be - he doesn't devote undue amounts of time to their backstory until such time as it becomes important, Erika Berger being a prime example. Parts of her life are well and truly 'in the past' and utterly irrelevant to the narrative, until such time as certain embarrassing details may be leaked to damage her reputation. Up until that point, these details were barely mentioned. The way they were written in, though, felt as though they were always 'hidden away in a drawer somewhere' (ahem... so to speak), rather than being a hasty and deliberately salacious late addition.
The 'product placement', where Larsson writes out almost a full spec. for just about every item of technology or furniture in the story remains jarring throughout. Seriously, you could outfit your home just like Salander by walking into Ikea with 'The Girl Who Played with Fire' in your hands. But, the more often I read such details, the more it felt like obsessive compulsive attention to fine details than deliberate product placement... though one friend of mine wondered if the details were added at the point of translation, rather than being in the original text. One for the conspiracy theorists, I feel.
Considering I deliberately avoided these books when they first came out - specifically because of their immediate status as 'sensational international bestsellers', partly due to the untimely death of the author - I was pleasantly surprised by all three books, and only slightly disappointed that Larsson felt the need to split the Zalachenko affair over two books. I found them all deeply involving, with many moments of very believable humour running alongside the horrors, and even the occasional tender, personal moment mixed in with the rampant bonking of several characters. Larsson never dwells on the sex so, while it's quite frequent, it doesn't get to the point where it seems entirely superfluous, or gets in the way of the story.
I read one criticism to the effect that Lisbeth Salander was a walking deus ex machina - 'becoming' whatever was needed to solve a particular plot point, like a human Swiss Army Knife. This is both grossly inaccurate and extremely unfair... I might even be tempted to suggest that the critic who wrote that didn't actually read the books, because they missed the point by a very wide margin. Lisbeth is characterised as being a very compartmentalised person. She's unfriendly and cynical. Many of her talents are not explained, they just are... but then, I've never been able to explain why I'm good at what I do for a job, so that doesn't strike me as unusual. Some of her acquaintances only ever come into the story to provide the solution to a problem, but that's wholly in character for both them and Salander. She has the means at her disposal, but only uses those means when they are required. At all other times, they are shut away, safe from prying eyes.
In all, I'd heartily recommend all three. It's not necessary to read book one before book two but, since books two and three are essentially parts of the same story, they must be read together and in order.
I've mentioned them a couple of times in my recent posts but mainly wrote about the US movie of the first book, and the character Mikael Blomkvist. I shall now attempt to redress that balance.
The the matter of Blomkvist, I will add only that his relationships do become a little implausible after a while... Or is it just a sense of jealousy that this fictional character (whose work ethic, overall morality and general stubbornness are not dissimilar to my own) attracts the attention of the kind of women who are not afraid to act on their impulses? Strong women who, while not necessarily as confident as they try to appear, are nevertheless not constantly falling victim to their own insecurities. In fact, if Larsson's female characters are any representation of Swedish women, perhaps I should up sticks and move to Sweden.
It seems unfair to describe even Lisbeth Salander - the titular 'girl with the dragon tattoo' - as the main character in any of the books... In the first book, she's largely peripheral - a researcher who gets recruited into Blomkvists investigation into the murder of Harriet Vanger. By the second book, the story has outgrown her. She's one of many characters in a complex subterfuge that began before her birth. She spends much of the last book incarcerated in one way or another, with everyone else running about around her, seeking to help or to hinder, to break the plot open or to keep it concealed. Nevertheless, she is a key character.
One thing that struck me is that her dragon tattoo is only described in any real detail once... and that's about halfway through book three. That description does not fit either the photographs on the books' covers or the appearance of the tattoo in both the original Swedish movie and the US remake. In the book, it's a full-colour tattoo (red, green and black), and seemingly quite large. In the US movie, it occupies only part of her shoulderblade and it's black only. Seems like a bit of a gaffe to me, but that's movies for you...
It's also interesting to note that I found her significantly less likeable in the books than in the US movie, precisely because so much of the book is given over to her internal monologues. She's a moody, inflexible, judgemental bitch who doesn't even try to interact with people most of the time. Then again, who could blame her, given what she'd gone through? The topic of Asperger's Syndrome comes up in book three (if not earlier), but is only discussed as a possibility. We see her interest in all kinds of esoteric fields of mathematics and physics and, while they're a fairly logical extension of her other activities, there's little in the way of connection because Lisbeth doesn't understand these aspects of herself.
She's described as very moral. She looks after those she cares about, always repays her debts... but her morality also extends to punishing those who wrong her and, if she can get away with it, those who generally do wrong. To me, it seems inconceivable that she wouldn't try to involve the authorities in some instances, but it's very carefully explained that she has excellent reasons for not doing so... Yet still, it nags.
Nowhere near as bad as the few Harry Potter books I read, which always ended up getting flung across the room as I screamed "just fucking speak to fucking Dumbledore you fucking halfwit!", but it does nag.
The depiction of a newspaper office in the final book felt eerily familiar. Not that I've worked on a newspaper, but the bickering, infighting, arrogance, lack of cooperation, vindictiveness and general immaturity seems to be more common than I'd thought, and the board-level stupidity is certainly nothing new: "Short term loss for long term gain? What madness is this?" pretty much sums up the attitudes of the upper echelons of my former employers - more concerned with their own pay packets and bonuses in the here and now, than the long-term viability of the company and its products.
Shady Government Agencies are becoming rather clichéd these days, but Larsson's take on the subject was quite chilling in its application of logic, even when the world had changed around it to the extent that its continued existence was its greatest weakness. By the time the necessary action is taken, events have progressed so far that the're forced to follow a path which has only one possible conclusion, though there were a couple of occasions that I thought they might be more successful that they were... Particularly when they zeroed in on one specific character, as I'd heard a rumour to the effect that the character in question did not live till the end of the book.
But Larsson doesn't muck about with limp deus ex machina. When his problems are solved, they're solved through quick thinking and timely action and, more often than not, there's (the impression of) a good chance of failure. Switching rapidly between multiple points of view and reliving the same periods of time from each perspective cranks up the tension quite successfully.
There's one other aspect that nags at me, though. A good portion of the second book relates to mathematical puzzles, then there's a tiny snatch of dialogue near the beginning of book three about an injury that might affect one's ability to deal with such puzzles. It transpires that no such effect has occurred, except in one specific instance of memory loss which is, quite literally, a moot point. The dialogue hint felt very heavy-handed and, with no corroboration with later events, rather pointless... yet I'm sure it was meant to accomplish something.
While all three books tended to drag at the beginning, once they got going, I did find them rather difficult to put down. Several times, I'd get to the end of a chapter and think "OK, I'll just take a peek at the first part of the next chapter, then go to sleep" only to find myself reading to the end of the next chapter, and making the same deal with myself all over again.
Larsson's characters are well-drawn when they need to be - he doesn't devote undue amounts of time to their backstory until such time as it becomes important, Erika Berger being a prime example. Parts of her life are well and truly 'in the past' and utterly irrelevant to the narrative, until such time as certain embarrassing details may be leaked to damage her reputation. Up until that point, these details were barely mentioned. The way they were written in, though, felt as though they were always 'hidden away in a drawer somewhere' (ahem... so to speak), rather than being a hasty and deliberately salacious late addition.
The 'product placement', where Larsson writes out almost a full spec. for just about every item of technology or furniture in the story remains jarring throughout. Seriously, you could outfit your home just like Salander by walking into Ikea with 'The Girl Who Played with Fire' in your hands. But, the more often I read such details, the more it felt like obsessive compulsive attention to fine details than deliberate product placement... though one friend of mine wondered if the details were added at the point of translation, rather than being in the original text. One for the conspiracy theorists, I feel.
Considering I deliberately avoided these books when they first came out - specifically because of their immediate status as 'sensational international bestsellers', partly due to the untimely death of the author - I was pleasantly surprised by all three books, and only slightly disappointed that Larsson felt the need to split the Zalachenko affair over two books. I found them all deeply involving, with many moments of very believable humour running alongside the horrors, and even the occasional tender, personal moment mixed in with the rampant bonking of several characters. Larsson never dwells on the sex so, while it's quite frequent, it doesn't get to the point where it seems entirely superfluous, or gets in the way of the story.
I read one criticism to the effect that Lisbeth Salander was a walking deus ex machina - 'becoming' whatever was needed to solve a particular plot point, like a human Swiss Army Knife. This is both grossly inaccurate and extremely unfair... I might even be tempted to suggest that the critic who wrote that didn't actually read the books, because they missed the point by a very wide margin. Lisbeth is characterised as being a very compartmentalised person. She's unfriendly and cynical. Many of her talents are not explained, they just are... but then, I've never been able to explain why I'm good at what I do for a job, so that doesn't strike me as unusual. Some of her acquaintances only ever come into the story to provide the solution to a problem, but that's wholly in character for both them and Salander. She has the means at her disposal, but only uses those means when they are required. At all other times, they are shut away, safe from prying eyes.
In all, I'd heartily recommend all three. It's not necessary to read book one before book two but, since books two and three are essentially parts of the same story, they must be read together and in order.
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
Growth In Decay
When I first moved into my flat, the windows were... shall we say... manky?
One of the first improvements I made, in fact, was getting the windows and front door replaced with sparkly new plastic-framed, 'low energy glass' things that have little vents to combat damp, and a facility to lock the opening panes in a position that can only be described as 'ajar'.
Of course, life isn't so simple that these sorts of measures mean there's no condensation and damp, just that it's substantially reduced. Last time I gave the window frames a bit of a wipe, I found hints of mould. Nothing serious - not even as bad as I used to get on the windows at my folks' place.
Nevertheless, this led to an interesting dream last night - which is strange because it wasn't yesterday that I last wiped the window frames, it was months ago - whereby I found not just mould, but a whole strange ecosystem on my window frames. There were several types of moss, a large growth of mould and - most puzzlingly - a full cactus, spikes and all.
It was made up of little ball-shaped segments - like Golden Barrel cacti or, strangely, the hallucinogenic cacti from which mescaline is derived - but very, very small - at most about a centimetre in diameter - and very tightly packed into a small bush shape.
And growing out of my window frame.
Dear reader, I have not the words.
I remember pointing it all out to someone in the dream, but cannot recall what happened next. Given my aversion to all things cacti, a similar situation in real life would probably result in the application of fire to the whole window frame, just to be sure.
There is evidently some great distrust of mould deeply ingrained in my psyche.
One of the first improvements I made, in fact, was getting the windows and front door replaced with sparkly new plastic-framed, 'low energy glass' things that have little vents to combat damp, and a facility to lock the opening panes in a position that can only be described as 'ajar'.
Of course, life isn't so simple that these sorts of measures mean there's no condensation and damp, just that it's substantially reduced. Last time I gave the window frames a bit of a wipe, I found hints of mould. Nothing serious - not even as bad as I used to get on the windows at my folks' place.
Nevertheless, this led to an interesting dream last night - which is strange because it wasn't yesterday that I last wiped the window frames, it was months ago - whereby I found not just mould, but a whole strange ecosystem on my window frames. There were several types of moss, a large growth of mould and - most puzzlingly - a full cactus, spikes and all.
It was made up of little ball-shaped segments - like Golden Barrel cacti or, strangely, the hallucinogenic cacti from which mescaline is derived - but very, very small - at most about a centimetre in diameter - and very tightly packed into a small bush shape.
And growing out of my window frame.
Dear reader, I have not the words.
I remember pointing it all out to someone in the dream, but cannot recall what happened next. Given my aversion to all things cacti, a similar situation in real life would probably result in the application of fire to the whole window frame, just to be sure.
There is evidently some great distrust of mould deeply ingrained in my psyche.
Monday, 6 February 2012
You Realise, Of Course, This Means War...
Or, at the very least, it's a serious kick in my figurative behind be being so bloody lazy with my writing.
Over the weekend, I kept seeing this 'news summary' on whichever channel it was that had a news summary in every ad break. One of the stories was that Tulisa Contostavlos is publishing an autobiography "and there's more..." because she's apparently written two novels as well.
Now, I know no ill of Tulisa, nor does she strike me as illiterate, unlike certain other celebrity 'authors'... But I've got at least 1 book's worth of 'short' stories in note form, with potential for another two collections, then a trilogy knocking about in my head that features another trilogy of metafiction, plus a whole TV series worth of Torchwood reboot, and assorted other crap... and yet I'm nowhere near making anything publishable, while Tulisa will soon have three books actually on the shelves.
I should probably just disconnect my internet and phones and just force myself to do some bloody writing.
In other news, my bank contacted me today because of a dodgy looking payment request on my debit card. I didn't recognise it, so they've cancelled that card and I'm expecting a new one in a couple of days. Strangely, it wasn't a huge payment that aroused their suspicion - it was one of those $1 charges that are often just used to confirm that bank details are valid. Thing is, it was a $1 charge to some New York-based something or other... And that really is suspicious.
Over the weekend, I kept seeing this 'news summary' on whichever channel it was that had a news summary in every ad break. One of the stories was that Tulisa Contostavlos is publishing an autobiography "and there's more..." because she's apparently written two novels as well.
Now, I know no ill of Tulisa, nor does she strike me as illiterate, unlike certain other celebrity 'authors'... But I've got at least 1 book's worth of 'short' stories in note form, with potential for another two collections, then a trilogy knocking about in my head that features another trilogy of metafiction, plus a whole TV series worth of Torchwood reboot, and assorted other crap... and yet I'm nowhere near making anything publishable, while Tulisa will soon have three books actually on the shelves.
I should probably just disconnect my internet and phones and just force myself to do some bloody writing.
In other news, my bank contacted me today because of a dodgy looking payment request on my debit card. I didn't recognise it, so they've cancelled that card and I'm expecting a new one in a couple of days. Strangely, it wasn't a huge payment that aroused their suspicion - it was one of those $1 charges that are often just used to confirm that bank details are valid. Thing is, it was a $1 charge to some New York-based something or other... And that really is suspicious.
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Social Commentary
Many years ago, when I started visiting a local snooker club with a friend, we noticed that many of the shops in the little parade inhabited by the club had transformed into betting shops. This was around the time that people were becoming scandalised by the sheer number of closures of 'local bank branches'. There had been a bank in that parade when I was a nipper - possibly even two - but it had long since closed. One or two of the restaurants were still there, but the big shop - a carpet or flooring shop, I believe... maybe furniture - was not just deserted but desolate.
It struck me then that the appearance of betting shops in this local retail wasteland was 'a sign of the times'.
When I woke up this morning, I noticed one of the shopfronts over the road was being worked on. The property had been cleared out and the windows replaced months ago, and the outside had been given a lick of paint quite recently, but now there were two men fumbling about with the signage.
And, wouldn't you know it, it'll be the second new betting shop to open up in my particular stretch of road in the last 12 months. The funniest thing is that the space it will occupy was once a bank.
Is this the finest irony at work, or have we merely reached the point where people put more faith (and money) into gambling for themselves than they're willing to put into a bank?
It struck me then that the appearance of betting shops in this local retail wasteland was 'a sign of the times'.
When I woke up this morning, I noticed one of the shopfronts over the road was being worked on. The property had been cleared out and the windows replaced months ago, and the outside had been given a lick of paint quite recently, but now there were two men fumbling about with the signage.
And, wouldn't you know it, it'll be the second new betting shop to open up in my particular stretch of road in the last 12 months. The funniest thing is that the space it will occupy was once a bank.
Is this the finest irony at work, or have we merely reached the point where people put more faith (and money) into gambling for themselves than they're willing to put into a bank?
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