This is John Cleese’s favourite film of his own¹, and one can see why: it’s a simple, yet very funny, story of a theft in the same tradition of The League of Gentlemen, The Lavender Hill Mob, or that other heist film from Ealing Studios I don’t recall the name of right now. Drat.

A Fish Called Wanda (1988)

Anyway, this similarity isn’t too surprising, given that the film is mostly directed by Charles Crichton, the man responsible for directing The Lavender Hill Mob. I have described Mr. Crichton as having “mostly” directed the film because the studio was worried he wouldn’t be able to handle a comedy assignment, and asked Mr. Cleese to ‘keep an eye on things’²; demonstrating that studio people in positions of influence are frequently idiots and haven’t a clue about anything other than what they have watched in the last minute or three, most likely due to most of their brains have been burned away by cocaine.

But, I digress.

Cleese’s character, the barrister “Archie Leach” (the birth name of Cary Grant³), is possibly the simultaneously stupidest and highly educated individual you’ve ever encountered. Sadly, he’s possibly also the most realistic character you’ve ever seen in a film. That’s what makes not only his character, but all of them in the film work so very well. As absurd as they are, they’re all well within the bounds of reality. We see the events of the tale and the way the characters deal with those challenges causes us to think there, but for the Grace of God, go I. This doesn’t exactly prevent one from considering a life in crime, but it certainly makes for a damned funny movie.

The key to this–or any–type of comedy is best summed-up in a post by Christopher Fowler (which you can read RIGHT HERE), in which he details a conversation he recently had with the writers of the Tony Hancock’s material, Ray Galton and Alan Simpson. Hancock’s character (he only had the one, really) could never be mistaken for either a ‘success’ or a ‘bright spark’, and therein the comedy bursts forth, according to the writers. In describing the un-produced Hancock film The Day Off, Mr. Fowler says this:

It’s virtually plotless, sad and very funny indeed. In it, Hancock meets up with another bus driver, and argues about the pointlessness of saving and withdrawing the same amount each week with his bank. He tries to bully a man on a park bench into admitting he feels insignificant, and fails. He loses an argument about wasps and bees. He meets Charlotte, a girl who works in a dress shop, and pretends he’s an architect building a cathedral, while she pretends she’s a model. He forces her to have a dessert she doesn’t want because she needs to stay model-thin. Hancock gets found out just before a touching goodnight kiss, and the romance turns sour. The film ends as it begins, with Hancock going home alone as the weather-girl announces tomorrow will be a sunny day–for those with a day off.

… [Ray Galton and Alan Simpson] agree that the script’s downbeat ending is funnier because ‘failures are funny, successful people are not’.

Thus we can see this film, full of the incredible failures nearly from start to finish, as a classic English comedy in the same tradition as Hancock, Ealing, and so very many others… most of which I can’t remember the names of… Drat.

There’s a further connection to this film for Mr. Fowler: in addition to his award-winning novels, he’s also responsible for co-writing a piece of comedy on the DVD of A Fish Called Wanda with Mr. Cleese. Unfortunately I returned this to the library before I remembered that, and thus I cannot tell you either which bit of “extra material” it is, or how funny I thought it was. Drat.

A Fish Called Wanda (1988)
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
Prominent Features
Star Partners Limited Partnership 

Directed by Charles Crichton
and un-credited John Cleese

Writing credits
written by John Cleese
from a story by John Cleese and Charles Crichton

CITATIONS

1.  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0095159/trivia?tab=tr&item=tr1054980 [ JUMP BACK ]
2.  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0095159/trivia?tab=tr&item=tr0792640 [ JUMP BACK ]
3.  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0095159/trivia?tab=tr&item=tr0792726, and yes I’m stopping this now [ JUMP BACK ]

Cover of “Aja”, by The Darcys (Jan 24 2012, Arts & Crafts Productions A&C066)

This, clearly, makes me a prime candidate for the music of Steely Dan, seen by many to be the gear-heads’ musical favourite; mostly due to their multiple studio accomplishments (although I only know of them being really fanatical to high fidelity recording processes and insanely complicated guitar lines). When I want to hear a little something intelligent, jazzy, and exceedingly tasty in its musical accomplishment, I turn to ‘The Dan’ (or Brian Eno or Jeff Beck). Thus, when hearing that the Toronto independent rock group The Darcys were covering the entire Steely Dan album Aja, I was fascinated to hear what they had accomplished.

The problem that any musician doing a ‘cover’ of another group’s work faces is that it’s a song they love, and probably love everything about the original version. However, the reason they do their own version is to bring something new to it, or at least it ought to be the reason. If all they do is duplicate the original’s arrangement, then there’s no inducement to listen to the new recording instead of the original. While this hasn’t stopped classical musicians doing the 378th recording of Mozart’s 12th symphony, or countless other works, there’s a difference there as we haven’t a clue what the original performance sounded like, so there is no ‘definitive interpretation’ which is tied to the composer in the same way that Dark Side of the Moon or Abbey Road have one specific version in the collective awareness of the listening public.

The original version of Aja (pronounced like ‘Asia’, by the way) is considered by some to be the “best recorded pop album in the 1970s”, which is either rejected as being of “too much intelligent content to be considered ‘pop’ music” or else “given much of the material recorded in the 1970s sounds like it was taped in a public swimming pool using a tin can, it’s hardly a tough thing to be at the top of a chart for technical achievement, is it?” Whichever, it’s often used for testing samples and recording reproduction fidelity to demonstrate the tonal range of vinyl vs. CD vs. digital file formats of various codecs; mostly due to the fact that the various editions have stayed fairly true to the original masters and haven’t been screwed around with, unlike most of the other recordings of the period. Having it get the Grammy Award for “Best Engineered Non-Classical Recording (1978)” probably helps too.

Due to the above–plus the fact this is the group’s best-selling album, having reached #3  on the U.S. charts and #5 in the United Kingdom–everyone knows the material backwards. So why even take-on the task then? Well, according to an interview with one of the band members in conjunction with THIS BLOG POST for the CBC Radio3 show Appetite for Distraction, the idea was given voice because one of the band members was both drunk and tired of answering questions posed by someone in a bar that evening, so he said the band was about to record this in order to make the guy shut up and go away. Sadly, the pestering individual was a member of the Toronto music media, and the statement was published shortly thereafter. The band member claims he is no longer permitted to drink, for fear of him doing something equally insane to the rest of the group.

Cover of “Aja”, by Steely Dan (Sept 23 1977, ABC Records)

It’s not fair to do a track-for-track comparison of the original album to the new version, as the purposes for the creation of the two are so wildly different from each other. The original was made to give voice to the muse of Walter Becker and Donald Fagan, while the new one was made to pass the original album’s contents through the collective muse of The Darcys to see what would happen. Thus, the preference of one over another isn’t either just or even relevant. No doubt the eye-balls of the members of the Toronto group are filled with a non-stop stream of words by people who are quite happy to make it painfully clear that “the original is perfect”, “why would anyone commit such sacrilege”, or the always popular “this cover album sucks goats!”

I was originally made aware of this about 2/3 of the way through the tune “Peg” which was pre-released as part of the album’s promotion. In the middle of typing something frantically on the keyboard whilst listening to Radio3, the chorus rammed itself into my awareness, my head shot-up, and I thought is that song what I think it is? The answer, obviously, was yes. In a series of events–that culminated with [ahem] ‘a well connected radio personality’ sending me an Advance Copy CD–I’ve now had a chance to listen to the entire effort. Five times. In a row. Without listening to the original version once. Yet.

 However, it’s nigh-on impossible to hear any of the tracks on this without hearing the original in one’s head. 

Which brings us back to the original question, why would you attempt this in the first place? Again, I submit the purpose is to bring something new to the musical work, due to it being interpreted by a different person in a different age. I’m a big fan of re-interpretations of The Beatles, The Who, and for some reason I also have about 87,000 different recordings of the Cole Porter composition “Love for Sale”.

Ultimately, the new version of the album isn’t all that successful as something which stands on its own. I wouldn’t expect it to replace the original in my mind, as that’s something a cover version has only done for me with Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s version of Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock” (the cover is far more in keeping with the event it records in its lyrics, for one thing). To create a version of any album which is superior to the original one is arguably impossible, but it ought to stand on its own in some fashion. This one doesn’t, no matter how hard I try to really, really like it.

A few tracks do make the cut, as they work but not entirely through their lengths. The title track handles the material fairly well, with echoes of the original here and there, but an entirely new feel to the whole of the song. Likewise, “Josie” works fairly well through most of its length for the same reason. “Deacon Blues” and “Home at Last”, however, just don’t work at all, sometimes to the point of being down-right ‘broken’. Not all songs are structured in a clear enough way to make it possible for re-interpretation, and especially not easily an entire album being re-interpreted by the same group in essentially the same style (although one exception to this is Luther Wright and the Wrongs’ version of The Wall as semi-blue-grass styled music, which is brilliant).

Cover of “The Royal Scam”, by Steely Dan (May 1976, ABC Records)

The cover image chosen by The Darcys [see image, way above, right]  is odd, as it harkens far more to the cover of The Royal Scam [see image, right], which Steely Dan declared in the re-mastered edition of which as “the most hideous album cover of the seventies, bar none (excepting perhaps Can’t Buy a Thrill)”. As tough as it is to make an album your own, it’s probably tougher to make the cover art yours as well.

Now, props to the group for taking this task on in the first place! To learn to play any of these songs is incredibly tough, and to do this with all seven is fantastic. To add to that the challenge to, essentially, ‘un-learn them’ and then re-learn them afresh is a hell of a steep climb for anyone, never mind an independent band attempting to fulfill a drunken promise made by one of the members in a fit of frustration. What a staggering achievement this is!

But it needs to have more than that, frankly. The sparseness of the original in large areas are too often honoured seemingly for the reason that “that’s what Steely Dan did”, instead of honouring a new approach. There are little musical frills from the original throughout that ought to have avoided entirely in favour of the songs’ cores. As well as that, there are some vocal moments which are delivered by the lead singer which were originally echoes by the back-up vocalists and ought to have been avoided for the same reason or delivered in some new way by another singer during the new recording sessions.

Basically, it’s a great idea. If they had attempted to show off their instrument chops by duplicating it perfectly, that would have gotten a pretty good reaction for the work (although not on an artistic level). Instead, they went for the far tougher assignment of re-working the music with their own style, and that’s awesome. However, the end result isn’t something which seems to have gone far enough to create a new work per se. Thus, my ultimate reaction is “meh…”

If you want to listen to ‘old music’, then you risk not evolving into a better person; or at least ‘fresher’ one. Thus, if you want to play the old music, you must do so in an entirely new way, bringing the best of the old into direct contact with the new work

If you want to check out the music for yourself, then HEAD HERE to download it for free. However, if you prefer a ‘hard copy’, I have the ‘Advance Copy’ CD in front of me, and will happily send it to someone who requests it (hit the “contact” link up there).

Cheered-up yet? Don’t worry, it’ll get dour soon enough.

After probably over two years of un-interrupted hair growth, a haircut.

Publishing & Frustration

If anything can be said to be “what 2011 has taught me”, it’s that one should either have tonnes of cash to force your plan to come to fruition in a  small amount of time, or you shouldn’t have any delusions about being successful to any degree beyond a tiny amount. Publishing is under-going a massive re-structuring in how it gets stories to people, who controls what, and even how they make money at all. Thinking “yes, well, I’m small enough to bounce when necessary and adapt as fast as required, plus I’m already starting from the idea that eBooks are ‘good’ and they need to be priced as though they’re Mass Market Paperbacks”, I wasn’t too worried about breaking even eventually on things.

Sadly, I’m in the same situation as publishers at any size of operation are: doing badly financially.

The autumn saw  two more books published by Atomic Fez Publishing, both by Canadian authors. They are Dirk Danger Loves Life by Chris Rothe, as well as Terribilis by Carol Weekes. Sales of both have been fairly solid, including a substantial order from Canada’s high-street bookshop, Chapters/Indigo/Cole’s (which is actually a mixed blessing, and click this link to learn why). So, good!

“Terribilis” and “Dirk Danger Loves Life” upon arrival

Once the books were delivered, there was still some time to get myself organised properly with them in time for them to be on sale at VCon Nº36, as well as adverts for them in the programmes of that event, plus the British Fantasy Society’s annual “FantasyCon” the same week-end, plus the UK editions of Terribilis in hard-cover were ready in time for that same event. Hooray!

During the BFS “FantasyCon”, Atomic Fez was in the running for two awards: “Best Small Press (2010)” and “Best Novella (2010)” for one of its books, Ponthe Oldenguine by Andrew Hook. There were also a few other categories and titles Atomic Fez showed-up in as part of the ‘long list’ of nominated books for people to vote for. To make it into the shortlist in the first year you qualify for consideration is pretty good (and Atomic Fez is the first non-UK publisher to be ‘shortlisted’ for “Best Small Press” as far as I can tell), and there was one other author being considered by a BFS Awards committee which is the sort of thing they don’t announce. So that’s good too! Unfortunately I couldn’t interest the media in talking to me about that at all, even in a slow news period, and even considering one of the other novellas in the running for that award was 1922 by Stephen King, and he didn’t win either.

Additionally, I contracted a PR person to help me with marketing, media relations, and other things that I hadn’t a clue about, and she did a bang-up job in the early months of 2011. The difference she made didn’t manifest itself until the last half of the year, but the effect she’s had shows-up in the fact that Chapters/Indigo/Cole’s didn’t give a sweet fuck about my books until she worked her magic. Additional things she beat me for until I did them was to get copies of some back-titles out to readers through a contest over on GoodReads.com, copies of the two new titles out through that same process as well as LibraryThing.com. 

At the same time, though, sales dropped tremendously, no matter what I did. Advertising didn’t seem to do much; at least not more than have people visit the site more. I’ve always considered advertising as a “long game”, with the notion of repetitive exposure being the key to eventual sales increase. Visit the site though people did, part with their money they did not. Even deep sales of 50% or more, as well as transatlantic distribution centres to reduce postage costs, didn’t seem enough to interest people in September. 

Bronze Fennel

So, with the end of this year, and a continual smash on our household finances causing us to hit the limits on all of our available credit and no further allowances for extending that any more, I’m now seeking a ‘day job’ to provide as much cash as possible in order to pour funds into the coffers of Atomic Fez. “Selling out” might be the best description, really.

I’m sick and bloody tired of trying to be my own man, frankly. Over the past quarter-century I’ve often been entrepreneurial out of sheer necessity, but mostly due to me not being drawn to the life of a veal-kennel-living worker-drone. Thus, I’ve been a professional photographer, a retail store owner, an actor and arts-journalist, and now editor and publisher. I’ve probably made far more “working for The Man” in retail, and when with the BC civil service as a file clerk, than all of those others combined. Most of one’s life is supposed to be spent being self-supporting and ensuring that society’s less-well-off are provided for properly; whether through tax payments or charitable donations. So far I’ve spent the vast majority of my working life with so poorly an income that I’ve not paid a cent in taxes (although with no “deductions at source”, so there’s been no refund cheques either), and–being in my late-40s now–I’m sick and bloody tired of it. If spending the daytime hours making someone else rich through my effort means I get enough money every fortnight I can do what I bloody want the rest of the time–and not have to make do with either not having something or having crap instead–then it’ll mean I’ll be free to actually see a film occasionally, have a suit that’s newer than my current 15-year-old one (and it was bought at a consignment store, so who knows how old it was already), and maybe even not rely on the generosity of others for ability to do just about anything.

Still, given the amount of effort that’s gone into the earlier endeavours of my own, it’s damned frustrating that none of them actually paid off, and the declaration by Kevin O’Leary that “if a business hasn’t turned a profit by two years, take that dog out behind the shed and shoot it” is something that either makes me weep or wish to punch the guy in the face for saying. Still, it haunts my mind daily, especially as it could very well be the right approach to take for all I know.

Movies Galore

During the rest of the year, I watched movies galore in order to teach myself something about story and structure of it therein. As having never taken an English degree (or a degree of any kind at all, actually), the ability to examine a story and not only know if something doesn’t work, but know why it doesn’t work, has been done based on a combination of reading experience, text examination as an actor, and pure gut-instinct. Being sure I was making adjustments to a story without merely making it match my eclectic and esoteric tastes was something I’ve lacked. Thus, I jammed as many well-regarded movies and TV series into my eye-balls as I could. There’s a lot of films I’ve missed through lack of opportunity or due to considering them “beneath me” for various reasons, but their influential natures are coming to surface in too many things I’m working with as an editor that I could no longer ignore them, in my view. The end result of this effort is recorded in the reviews here on this site, which number over one hundred in quantity (and there’s a bunch I’ve not reviewed during the past year). I’ll probably continue to do it into next year, as it’s a good way to focus one’s views of the film and re-enforce the lessons in structure the stories might teach.

My conclusion early-on in this effort was that, to be successful, a story requires only three things: a solid plot, some developed characters, little bit of action (minimal, even, but at least a bit), and you can mix in with them any story-form, genre, or influence you want. Miss out one of those three, or get the balance wrong, and you’re screwed.

Case in point: the three-part series under The Matrix banner, which got an entirely wrong balance in the final two films, which contain a complete shortage of plot and character but oodles of action, and I found the them to be so generally pointless that their simple existence was insufficiently justified. The first one ion the series was not only the best re-telling of the New Testament I’ve ever seen, and was so perfectly structured in its story and character arc that stopping right there would have been far better than anything else. But the film made too much money, and Hollywood can’t leave “well enough” alone, and need to rape it for all the opportunities it might offer.

An interesting thing to note about the “Matrix Trilogy” is that the gross box office receipts for the first film were $171,479,930 (as of 26 September 1999), with an estimated production budget of $63 million; the second film’s gross was $281,492,479 (as of 26 October 2003), on an estimated budget of $150 million; and the gross for the third was $139,259,759 (as of February 2004) for a film with an estimated budget of $110 million [all figures are $US]. Thus, we have three films made for $323 million making a gross income of $592,232,168, thus supposedly netting $269,232,168, and that’s just the films at the box office during their initial wide-release; there’s still the DVD releases of each film–and don’t forget the box-set, anniversary, and BLU-RAY editions–plus distribution of the film itself after those initial cinema receipts. Now for the bizarre part: none of the films have ever formally posted a profit. Ever. This is a prime example of Hollywood Accounting, which sufficiently screws with the financial records so that they never have to pay someone a part of the profits; just look at Art Buchwald’s experience for further proof.

Crocus sativus (“The Safron Crocus”)

Key films for various reasons: Star Wars Episodes I-III; Kurosawa’s Ran and The Seven Samurai, as well as Yojimbo; the “Man With No Name” trilogy from Sergio Leone; the Brothers Coen, for demonstrating they do nearly all noir films, but in a minimalist fashion, Spartacus, for the commentary track with the scene-by-scene detailed memo from the writer about why bits were required to shore-up character and plot points; the Bond series to appreciate how well made the early ones were, as well as how each of the films add to a continuous influence of tales reflecting the politics of the times; the series of “Planet of the Apes” and “Alien” films for demonstrating how action and SF can co-exist with intelligence, as well as the latter for introducing me to the brilliance of David Fincher; 2001: A Space Odyssey and Doctor Stranglelove (or “How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Bomb) for demonstrating the range of Stanley Kubrick’s talent, back-to-back (the comedy was released in 1964 and the SF-film was his next film, in 1968).

Summary

So… there we are: 2011. The only things that I seemed to do well returned no income, and that’s been the pattern for me since leaving high school. Stunning. 

So I look to 2012 to provide me with an income derived through the anonymity of working for other people as a tiny cog in a massive machine which probably contributes to the continual division of the ‘rich’ and the ‘poor’ becoming more and more cavernous every day. Pardon me whilst I leave you to search for a corporate teat from which to suckle.

Bitter? Me? Hell no! That’s not a strong enough word, for one thing…

The Big Lebowski (1998)

While this has become a cult classic, I still don’t think it’s that incredible. Yes, it’s fabulous, but I wouldn’t declare it “87 out of ten stars!!!!” as some have. I’m not sure what I would change, but it’s so anarchic that it’s tough to identify anything as either “not sufficiently developed” or “extraneous”. The one section which I wouldn’t remove is the dream sequence, oddly, as it’s such a fabulous reflection of Hollywood’s musical montages, as well as the idyllic nature of The Dude’s notion of life. 

I might take out the character Jesus Quintana, as it really has nothing to do with anything in the story, but he acts in the same way as the gravedigger in Hamlet or the Night Porter in “the Scottish Play”. Besides, the basis for taking out that character would then have to equally apply to the character only identified as “The Stranger”, played by Sam Elliott, and he is possibly the only consistently normal person in the entire tale, so we need him. Hmmm… tricky…

Like Fargo, the movie the brother released two years earlier, The Big Lebowski is what may be best described as “minimalist noir™”. Basically, ‘how much can you do with a noir mystery or thriller to follow its rules, yet make it about as non-depressing and cynical as possible?’ Everyone in both of those films, plus Burn After Reading, is entirely out for the betterment of no one but themselves, and are willing to do anything in order to get it. The one individual who is an exception to this is the police officer Marge in the earlier film, but that’s getting a bit away from the two films we’re really examining here.

With The Big Lebowski, the questions are “why is this loser getting confused with someone else?” plus “where’s this ‘Bunny’ Lebowski, and what does Jackie Treehorn have to do with it?” An obvious additional couple of questions are “where’s The Dude going to get a decent run that really pulls the room together?” as well as “how are they going to fare in the league standings after all of this shakes down?” but those are more by the way sorts of things.

Burn After Reading (2008)

In Burn After Reading, however, the questions are more straight-forward: “who’s going to pay the most for these secret files?”, as well as “how did they get those secret files?” Again, everyone is out for their own betterment, whether they’re the author of a memoire, wanting–no, needing, dammit–cosmetic surgery, or simply looking for a bit of sex to warm them up for another run. The number of selfless people in this story are about as many as you would expect to find in Washington, DC: zilch.

The number of excellent performances from people you hadn’t expected to do real solid comedy yet are pretty damned good thank you very much, however, is “all”. There’s a moment when Brad Pitt’s character needs to be ‘sneaky’, and only ends-up looking completely self-conscious instead. And yet, if you really deconstruct what Pitt does, it’s such an incredibly subtle yet entirely clear bit of body language adjustment, but the guy makes it look effortless. 

Somehow, the Coen boys get the best performances of their careers out of everyone in their films. In some cases, the actors go on to continue their careers with increased skills in every genre of film, but they never quite match their achievement without a script written by them.

Typically, each of their scripts are filled with excellent dialogue which demonstrates a love of and un-matched facility with language. They also have a love of the movie-making business, as their ability to turn stereotypes and predictable scenarios on their proverbial heads is a high-water mark in cinema.

Damn, they’re awesome!

The Big Lebowski (1998)
Polygram Filmed Entertainment
Working Title Films

Directed by
Joel Coen & an uncredited Ethan Coen

Written by
Ethan Coen & Joel Coen

Burn After Reading (2008)
Focus Features presents
in association with Studio Canal
in association with Relativity Media
in association with Working Title Films
Mike Zoss Productions

Directed by
Ethan Coen & Joel Coen

Written by:
Joel Coen & Ethan Coen

This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.

The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Anyway, the point here is that the film is not a remake, and very little of it is an echo of the 1968 film. There are a few bits of the original film which get us into the reality of the planet–landing in the future, confusion, mute humans, Ape Overlords, no technology–but that’s about it until we see some bits that reflect some points in the second film, and that’s all.

Apparently it’s far more faithful to the original novel’s events, but not having read it I haven’t an opinion here (Jennifer read it, but that was years ago). The intellectual pondering of questions of justice, or equality of all, or the notion that power doesn’t guarantee righteousness of action; none of these really gets the thoughtful consideration they’re due. they appear, certainly, but mostly in a scene around a table at a dinner party, and purely through the statement of opinions without any further development beyond these introduction of positions. If you’re hoping for a fresh run-through of the ‘Scopes “Monkey” Trial’ you better get that older film cued up, Cornelius.

Both Charlton Heston and Linda Harrison have cameos, so the rooting in the past is hardly ignored. Even the original film’s screenplay writers Rod Serling and Michael Wilson get “special thanks” in the credits for their adaptation. The world and the dynamics of the situation and plot are the same, but the way those are employed and juggled are far different.

In a large number of ways, the story is better here, with more surprises and plot development, yet the characters are more one-sided, and the shortage of intellectual contemplation mentioned earlier also contributes to the lack of meat. Yes, it’s a far different film, and expecting it to be “better than the original” is a foolish prejudice. This is ‘different’, not ‘better’ or ‘worse’; merely ‘different’. This is far more action-oriented, and far less dialogue-driven. This alone means that comparing it to the original is a specious approach.

The ending is, in many ways, superior to the original’s. Given how different the set-up to it is, it’s impossible to say more than “it provides far more questions than answers”. The whole film stays true to the notion of time travel’s rules regarding alteration of its details, the ending especially, and it would have been interesting to see what Burton and his team might have done as a follow-up tale to this; probably an adaptation of Escape from the Planet of the Apes, I suppose.

All in all, a good use of your time, even if the dialogue is thinner and the Important Questions getting short shrift.

Planet of the Apes (2001)
Twentieth Century Fox presents
Zanuck Company
Tim Burton Productions

Directed by
Tim Burton

Writing credits
from the novel La Planète des Singes by Pierre Boulle
screenplay by William Broyles Jr. and
Lawrence Konner & Mark Rosenthal

This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.

The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973)

The final section is one of more violence. I’d be hesitant to say that it’s more of the same that we saw at the end of the previous film, as there’s more than that. Yes, there’s a great deal of military fighting–with a title like that, what else would one expect–but we’re seeing the beginnings of a new society, as well as the foundations of the connecting link back to the second reel in the original film of five years ago. 

Now in the year 2001, Caesar has founded a separate ‘nation’ of a sort, and the tribe consists of both apes and humans who are work as servants to their simian masters. The apes have already progressed to a complete and unique culture of their own, and have also progressed to the point that they are oblivious to the fact they are now the ‘owners’ of indentured servants, claiming “no, humans are separate, but equal” when challenged on the matter. This is rubbish, and the most senior human, MacDonald (played by Austin Stoker), presses home the soon-conceded point.

The above may be the greatest lesson of this film: to be truly intelligent, one must admit to mistakes, including the mistake of not realizing what one was mistaken about. Clearly, this is something that both Caesar is able to do as leader, as well as village intellectual Virgil (played by Paul Williams, who went on to play the role on the animated TV series which I recall watching as a young boy… very young, you understand). 

All is not entirely equal even within each of the two groups of beings, however; not all apes are created equal, even if they are treated as such. Looking at species-based divisions of capabilities is impossible not to do, as the gorillas are clearly physically larger, uniformly dense as a post, and prone to react to anything with force and probably a great deal of it as well. During a class of the ape young, everyone is getting ‘book learning’ from the human teacher, and it is clear that not only are the chimpanzees more capable of grammatically superior and cursive communication, the gorillas are, as a group, not only the least successful of the community, they have little if any regard for the acquisition of this skill. Hitting, riding horses, and beating the crap out of people from The Forbidden City is what they wish to do a great deal of, none of this “reading” foolishness!

BRIEF ASIDE: many high schools are filled with this internal dichotomy, which is why there are both football teams and student theatre productions. Oddly, the former option is often engaged upon by gorillas, in character, if not in fact. Planet of the Apes, you became real in my youth… [ahem] Right, back to the review. 

Thankfully, they don’t wear the outrageous purple trousers of the poster, but there are a few oddities which seem to have survived some sort of non-stop regression to the Age of Wood technologically. Automobiles may not be manufactured anymore, but a fair few of them are still operating, as we see some of them moving about at one point; albeit not very fast or reliably, for that matter.

Caesar has heard the legend of the fate of Ape-kind, as well as the planet, as relayed to the past by his parents from the future. Seeking confirmation of this–as well as the opportunity to finally see the faces of his father and mother–he, Virgil, and MacDonald head to The Forbidden City and locate the Archives where 1″ magnetic video tape has survived to mostly provide the footage of the evidence given to the investigative committee back in the mid-1970s. This investigation causes the two groups–country and city–to eventually come to a state of war; one which the gorillas predictably welcome.

Of all the films, this is oddly the most complex, owing mostly to the number of things being stated or examined in it. We have the apes creating within their own society not only the same structure that we despise in the human one of today–racial segregation and division based on genetic history–but they are also creating an actual separation of themselves from another species which is treated as a lower life form only to be used for un-thinking labour. Is this the ultimate fate for any society; to be divided and incapable of treating all as equal? Is this, instead, merely the beginning of self-awareness which itself leads to a better existence where all are treated the same? Do either of those possibilities rely on their existence out-lasting the taking of power by the ‘gorilla peoples’ who tend to bring-about the end of themselves and everyone else through the first of the horsemen? Does a people’s life inevitably down to absolute power corrupting absolutely, or is it actually possible to avoid this somehow; either by pushing beyond it to a better version or through active choice?

This sort of intellectual questioning is precisely the sort of thing that SF–good SF–is made of. The samples of simple simians can be successful in distracting the viewer from the fact that really big philosophical thoughts are being considered here. Looking past these things is worth the time, should one wish to do so.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973)
Twentieth Century Fox presents
an APJAC PRODUCTIONS, INC.

Directed by
J. Lee Thompson

Writing credits
story by Paul Dehn
using characters by Pierre Boulle
screenplay by John William Corrington & Joyce Hooper Corrington

This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.

The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.

The Meaning of Life (1983)

Still, there are a number of slightly more pertinent portions of the experience which are employed to direct our concern to the precise nature of “life; what’s it all about, anyway?” Birth, religion, dreams, death, sex, learning, eating in a restaurant, fish, working life, health, and then finally death. It’s all here.

Oddly, there’s a few times that the actual ‘meaning of life’ is specifically addressed, and they’re not all completely concerned with fish. There’s a quite beautiful monologue featuring the waiter “Gaston” in an idyllic setting describing his mother’s advice. While it’s not actually fully linked to the phrase “…and that’s what life should be, you see”, the matter doesn’t need to be: the advice is there for those who recognize its simple solution. For those who are incredibly slow on the up-take of information and require a large, heavy object to gain their attention, the “Meaning of Life” is read to us by The Lady Presenter with the less-than enthusiastic introduction “it’s nothing very special.” That both of these sequences are performed in a ‘throw-away’ fashion and immediately followed by ‘shock humour’ text speaks clearly about how obvious the answer to one of the most pointless questions ought to be. 

Yes, the question is important, absolutely. Giving over one’s entire life to making sense of the thing is–according to Monty Python’s fellers–a bit of a waste of time, really. Life won’t make sense, no matter how hard one tries, and no matter how one wishes to find patterns. It’s a journey, and we drop things from the caravan, someone farther down the line of humanity picks it up, or maybe not, and we keep going onward through the wasteland. 

May as well have a bit of a chuckle while you’re moving along, then, eh?

The Meaning of Life (1983)
Celandine Films
The Monty Python Partnership
Universal Pictures

Directed by
Terry Jones

Written by
Graham Chapman & John Cleese &
Terry Gilliam & Eric Idle & Terry Jones & Michael Palin

 Presented with the short film:

The Crimson Permanent Assurance (1983)

Written and Directed by:
Terry Gilliam

This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.

The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)

Here we get the ‘fish out of water’ variety of time travel-based comedy–yes, I realize there’s a joke to be made there, but let’s try and be above that, okay?–and it’s probably a good thing as the whole “Spock needs to be re-built from scratch” deal is getting a bit tired. Sure, the Vulcan’s have a cool culture and everything, but there’s only so many incomprehensibly named ceremonies involving logic and ration thinking you can stand. At the core of any story you’re supposed to focus on who we as a people are, not who someone else is; to reveal that which is within ourselves is the key, is it not?

Given the rather unbelievable quality of the plot points, as well as the forgettable cinematography–the damned thing looks so much like a TV episode I swear they used the least number of camera set-ups possible without actually resorting to ‘nothing but the master shot’ for the whole picture–it’s a wonder that there are so many memorable bits of dialogue. I’d quote some, but there’s far too many spoilers as a result. Let’s just say that this is easily the funniest in the Star Trek series in any form.

The rules for time-travel are followed accurately (or as near as I can tell; nothing stuck out as wrong, let’s say), but there’s some fair amount of science which–even for Star Trek’s usual standards–is incredibly wrong and / or not developed enough dramatically.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986), alternate poster

BRIEF ASIDE: While the need to suspend disbelief is key to any story, and especially a movie, when something is done in Science Fiction, you’d like the science to be at least semi-plausible in some way. The exact details may be wrong, but when basic laws which are known to even someone as non-science aware as this artsy-bastard™ are not only ignored but stricken from the room, there’s something very very wrong.

The basic concept here is that our boys go back in time to 1986 (the time of the film’s release), when Grey Whales were alive, and no one had any fashion sense [see image of alternate poster, left]. To accomplish that, the ship zooms around the Sun to use its gravitational orbit as an acceleration mechanism to “sling shot” the ship into the past. The explanation on how this is accomplished is non-existent. The description of how it is accomplished is simply the actions which they achieve. A tautology is not acceptable to me, frankly. I’d like some pseudo-science at the very least, please.

Meanwhile, later, they “beam-up” a whale into the hold of a ship, along with the water immediately around it. Again, this isn’t explained as to specifics of the matter; beyond Scotty’s “I never donna this a-fore, Cap’n!” anyway. Once more, I’d like to have some pseudo-science about ‘increased pay-loads requiring greater power-supply’ and possible some sort of adaptation of their transporter array infrastructure–both for pick-up and delivery, for that matter–as well as some dramatic “golly, we’re never going to accomplish this, because of [whatever the pseudo-science demands are]” dialogue and story points. A missed opportunity there, really, and disappointing over-all in this area.

It really does feel like the team had a good time making it, however, and we have a good time watching it; they really feel like a team now, for one thing. Nothing wrong with that at all. In the end, all my grumbling included, worthwhile.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)
Paramount Pictures
co-produced by Industrial Light & Magic

Directed by
Leonard Nimoy

Writing credits
Gene Roddenberry (television series Star Trek)
story by Leonard Nimoy & Harve Bennett
screenplay by Steve Meerson & Peter Krikes 
and Harve Bennett & Nicholas Meyer

This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.

The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.