Sci Fi Experience on Screen: Superheroes and Extra-Terrestrials

The Sci Fi Experience seemed like the perfect time to watch a few sci fi movies I’ve been meaning to get to…old and new.  This Friday, here’s a survey on the sci fi movies I’ve watched in the last couple of months.

The Amazing Spider-Man (2012): I have to admit, I didn’t quite see why we needed another origin story movie for Spiderman (Toby Maguire just wasn’t that long ago…) and while I still kind of feel that way, this was a fun movie.  I’ve been a fan of Andrew Garfield ever since he was the adorable Antoine in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and he’s the main reason I saw this.  He plays a wonderfully awkward Peter Parker, who also manages to have a lot of fun with his new powers.  My favorite thing about the movie, though, may be Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone).  I mostly remember Kirsten Dunst’s Mary Jane screaming a lot when things got tense.  Gwen is far tougher, keeping her head and actually being useful in a crisis.  That’s an awesome quality in a superhero’s girlfriend.

E. T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982): I haven’t seen this one in years, so I was curious to rewatch some classic sci fi.  All the iconic moments are great, and it was so much fun seeing an incredibly young Drew Barrymore (talented even then).  One thing that struck me was how little explanation this movie has.  It’s not incomprehensible like 2001, but we never find out who E.T.’s people are, why they were on Earth, how the government knew to look for them, whether there was any communication after E. T. is picked up…  I was also struck by the moment when E. T. asks Elliot to go with him.  Yes, 10-year-old boys probably shouldn’t go off with aliens–but what a missed opportunity!

The Dark Knight Rises (2012): I kept having near-misses with this movie.  It never quite worked out to see it in local theaters…then I almost saw it while I was in Paris, at a theater a few blocks from the Paris Opera House.  But I couldn’t tell from the posters whether it was subtitled or dubbed, so I gave it up and went back to my hotel room to spend the evening writing fragments of stories involving the Phantom of the Opera, which was probably just as well.

So I finally saw this in January from Netflix.  While quite grim in spots, overall I enjoyed it–especially Catwoman.  Anne Hathaway impressed me this year as both Catwoman and Fantine…and impresses me all over again when I compare those characters side-by-side.  The villain here wasn’t nearly as much fun as the Joker in The Dark Knight, but this was still an exciting ride, and I enjoyed Joseph Gordon-Levitt (who’s been adorable ever since 10 Things I Hate About You) as the new cop trying to make good.

Batman Begins (2005): I knew I’d seen The Dark Knight, but I couldn’t remember if I’d seen this one.  After watching the final installment, I was pretty sure I hadn’t seen the first one, and felt like I ought to do something about that.  The origin story was interesting, some parts of the later movies make a good deal more sense now, and…mostly, I really liked Alfred.  And I have a nice completed feeling now.

I think that covers Sci Fi On Screen…although I may re-watch The Dark Knight soon!  Which will thoroughly complete the out-of-order-ness of it all.

The Callista Trilogy: Planet of Twilight

File:Planet of twilight.jpgIn my continuing exploration of the Star Wars universe, I wound up the Callistra Trilogy with Planet of Twilight by Barbara Hambly.  I thoroughly enjoyed Hambly’s first book, Children of the Jedi, and was disappointed by the second in the trilogy, Darksaber, authored by Kevin J. Anderson.  Book three brought us back to Hambly, and it showed–and I was quite pleased by that fact.

The book opens eight months after the previous one, as Luke searches for his lost love, Callista, who has gone off on her own quest in search of her lost Jedi powers.  Luke’s search and Leia’s political responsibilities bring both of them to Nam Chorios, a former prison planet where the religious-cult majority insists on isolationism, over the objections of the minority of more recent colonists.  The minority political leader captures Leia, while Luke explores very strange operations of the Force on the planet, and hunts for clues to Callista’s trail.

It was such a relief after Darksaber to come back to Hambly’s characterization.  The characters had depth again.  You can feel Luke’s pain at losing Callista, and it feels both real and appropriate–not vaguely self-indulgent, the way the focus on their relationship felt in the last book.  I have a feeling there are those who would object to his focus on Callista when he has larger responsibilities (like an Academy to run), but really, I think it’s just human to balance something personally important against something that’s logically important.  And at the risk of a slight spoiler, ultimately the novel is about how Luke accepts his path going forward.

There’s also some good delving into Leia’s character.  Children of the Jedi had a lot about her past on Alderaan.  This one has more about some of her plans and her fears, and delves into the rarely-addressed fact that she’s the child of Darth Vader as much as Luke is.

Most of the book is in either Leia’s or Luke’s point of view, and between their differing experiences we get to explore some very strange mysteries and very strange characters–including a Hutt with Force-ability, and some truly creepy bug creatures.  It gets pretty gross in spots, and I likely would have been ill with a movie, but it wasn’t too bad in text.  I enjoyed the reveal of the mystery and weird aliens are among the hallmarks of Star Wars.

Han, Lando and Chewie all have small roles here, trying to figure out what happened to Leia, and though they don’t have a big part, it’s enough that they don’t become conspicious by their absence, if that makes sense.  Threepio and Artoo, meanwhile, manage to get lost and provide some excellent comic relief as they try to sort themselves out.  Artoo, of course, is calm throughout; Threepio, not so much!

I got a little muddled in here with politics on various planets, and some arching plotlines involving plague and multiple revolutions.  But the main focus was on the primary characters, so I didn’t worry too much about the larger politics, and that seemed to go all right.

I found this a satisfying end to the trilogy.  I won’t claim it was brilliant, but it was put together well, has good portrayals of the characters, some clever twists, and all in all, an enjoyable read.  And somehow it’s making me want to rewatch Return of the Jedi

Author’s Site: http://www.barbarahambly.com/

Buy it here: Planet of Twilight

3,000 Years with the Speaker for the Dead

Speaker for the DeadLast year for the Sci Fi Experience, I read Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card (review here).  It’s been a year now, and I finally got back to the series to read Speaker for the Dead.  Hopefully it won’t take me as long to get to the third book–because I really enjoyed this one!

I can see why Card felt he needed to write Ender’s Game to establish the backstory for Speaker for the Dead, because it’s remarkably complicated.  I’ll try to avoid spoilers as much as I can, though…

The second book is set 3,000 years after the first one.  Ender and his sister Valentine have spent much of that time traveling at almost-lightspeed, changing how time passes for them, so that they’ve only aged into their mid-thirties.  Humans have colonized the Hundred Worlds in a society connected by instant communication but very lengthy spaceflight trips.  For the first time, they’ve encountered another intelligent alien species, the piggies, on the planet Lusitania.  After the disaster with the Buggers, they’ve put an extreme Prime Directive into place, limiting contact between the piggies and the human colony to almost nothing, and striving to let nothing at all about humans be revealed, lest the piggy society be contaminated.  When the researcher studying the piggies is killed, Ender sets out for Lusitania in his role as Speaker for the Dead, to Speak the man’s death and discern the truth.

I feel like I’ve barely touched the surface of the plot here.  It’s a plot that deals with large-scale events, yet is really more about individuals, about one person’s pain and how he or she copes with it, and the results–and how that affects others, and how they respond, and so on.

I think I liked Ender better in this book than the first one.  He’s gained a great deal of wisdom, while still keeping enough human flaws to be sympathetic.  There’s a cast of strong characters, but my other favorite is probably Jane, a self-aware computer program (to vastly simplify), with a deep attachment to Ender and a considerable sense of humor.

This book is full of mysteries, and I read it quickly because I wanted so much to know what would be revealed next.  I think I had all my questions answered by the end–sometimes I had to stop and think a little to work out how it all fit together and explained earlier parts, but that’s all right.  I don’t often think about whether or not books make me think (if that makes any sense), but this one did, in a good way.

Most intriguing are some of the concepts here.  I think the piggies are the most alien aliens I’ve ever encountered in books or movies.  Star Trek usually uses aliens to extrapolate on some aspect of humanity, Star Wars gives us visually-strange creatures but little depth about them, and most aliens in other sources are either humans with strange faces, or mindless monsters.  The piggies are deeply complex biologically and culturally, and they are deeply alien.  But Card takes it seriously, so they aren’t alien as a farce or for the sake of being bizarre–they’re alien in a way that makes us think about our own understanding of the universe, and our own deepest-held assumptions.

Most stories about aliens either show them as immediate allies or immediate enemies.  The interaction with the piggies feels like what maybe really could happen, as two well-meaning species struggle to understand each other because of their inherent differences.  This isn’t a story where we all find out we’re really the same under the skin, but it does suggest we can still meet in some way.

The space travel was also fascinating, though I almost want to call it time-travel.  Most sci fi invents faster-than-light travel and links up the galaxy, or else has very separate and disconnected colonies on different worlds.  Card gives us a society that is deeply interconnected, even though it can take twenty years to get from planet to planet.  The sheer practicalities of it are fascinating, especially the way travelers don’t age appreciably–so for them, two weeks passed, while everyone they left at home has lived through years.

I was especially intrigued by the way Ender and Valentine used space-travel to move through the years, ultimately becoming historical figures in their own lifetimes.  Masterful though most of this book is, I don’t think Card really got into how hard that would be.  He gets into the personal level, but not on the level of dealing with a changing society.  It would be like someone from the Trojan War trying to function today, after only checking in for a few months here and there in the intervening centuries.  Language, customs, technology–everything would change so much.  And if everything doesn’t change during Ender’s 3,000 year span, well, that’s kind of a sad commentary on the future of humanity…

But that’s a small criticism, and probably it’s just necessary to make the novel work.  And it does work, and it’s fascinating.  I preferred this one to Ender’s Game, though I think the first book is necessary for understanding the second.

Speaker for the Dead was full of mysteries that kept me turning pages looking for the reveal, and full of thought-provoking ideas that I expect to linger.  Highly recommended.

Author’s Site: http://hatrack.com/

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Buy it here: Ender’s Game or Speaker for the Dead

The Callista Trilogy: Darksaber

DarksaberAfter a brief break for L. M. Montgomery, I’m back to focusing on the Sci Fi Experience.  I enjoyed the break and was happy to go back to lasers and aliens…but I am sorry to say that I was sadly disappointed by the next installment of the Callista Trilogy, Star Wars: Darksaber by Kevin J. Anderson.  There was an author switch here, and it showed–though I was quite surprised, as I know Anderson is a prominent name in Star Wars novels.

This one picks up shortly after Children of the Jedi (my review here), with continuing character threads but a new plotline.  Callista and Luke are on a search for a way to restore her lost Jedi powers.  Leia is in political negotiations with the Hutts (as in, Jabba the), who are secretly building a super-weapon using the plans of the Deathstar.  Han has pretty much nothing to do but follow along with Leia.  Meanwhile out on the fringes, Admiral Daala and Vice-Admiral Pellaeon are striving to unify the squabbling remnants of the Empire to attack the New Republic, and especially the Jedi Academy.

You might already be able to tell that this plot is rather fractured.  The Hutts and the Empire pose two major threats that, as far as I can tell, have absolutely nothing to do with each other.  I honestly don’t know why they’re both in one book.

I did actually quite like one minor plot thread, involving one of Luke’s Jedi trainees.  Dorsk 81 is from a world of clones; he’s the first one to have Jedi powers and the first one in a very long time to do anything unexpected.  He returns to his home planet hoping to serve with his new abilities, only to find his community expects him to go back to conforming.  This was an intriguing culture that could have been explored more thoroughly, and it’s too bad it was in a book that was already over-stuffed with plot elements.

Possibly more problematic than a fractured plot is the fractured point of view.  Star Wars books typically jump between different characters, and I don’t object on principle.  This one, however, spends so much time in the POV of supporting characters or villains that I feel like I barely saw Han and Leia at all.

We spend far too much time in the POV of Admiral Daala, who is a decent enough villain but not that special for the amount of attention she gets here.  We also spend a lot of time in the POV of Bevel Lemelisk, an engineer behind the Death Star who’s now working for the Hutts.  Despite spending too much time with Lemelisk, I still have no idea why he’s working for the Hutts.  He doesn’t seem to be trapped; he’s not bloodthirsty; he’s plainly not enjoying the experience; he’s not unaware of the destructive power of his creations, and yet he gives the consequences no thought at all.  I’m guessing his motivation is sheer love of his craft, but I haven’t the faintest idea why he’s choosing this way to express it.

That leads into the third problem.  The characters throughout feel…not quite shallow, but something like that.  Perhaps the problem is that the writing is unsubtle.  I don’t know exactly how to explain this, so let me invent an example.  These aren’t actual quotes, but I think they’re representative.  It’s the difference between writing “Leia was sad about Alderaan” and writing “Leia watched the purple sunset and thought wistfully of Alderaan’s blue skies.”  They’re both expressing emotions, but Darksaber‘s only method seemed to be to use the first, and just announce what a character felt.  Characters do feel things, even deep things, but there’s somehow no depth to the writing.

Perhaps I’m most disappointed by the portrayal of Callista.  She felt more alive when she was a Jedi ghost in the first book.  Even worse, I didn’t like how her personal journey was handled.  The facts of the situation are: she’s a Jedi Knight from a previous generation who has been isolated for thirty years, now inhabiting a new body in a galaxy that is very different from her earlier experience, who finds herself unable to touch the Force.

You’d think a character with all that going on could hardly help but be deep and complex.  But none of that is explored in the slightest way, except for her inability to reach the Force.  That’s the primary focus, and even that becomes less about her crisis of self-identity than about her inability to Vulcan mindmeld with Luke (to thoroughly mix my galaxies!)  The story of their relationship is not a bad direction to go and would certainly be a good element to a larger story…but as-is, it feels like so much less than what could have been done.

Now that I’ve completely torn this book apart, I really should say it’s not a terrible book.  It’s not very good, but it’s okay.  Perhaps a hazard of writing in a larger universe like Star Wars is that it’s so easy for the reader to see how much better a novel could have been–because there are better Star Wars books out there.

Children of the Jedi doesn’t seem to get much love from hardly anyone, but I greatly preferred it to its sequel.  So all in all–I’m looking forward to jumping back into Barbara Hambly’s writing for the third book in the trilogy.

Other reviews:
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Buy it here: Darksaber by Kevin J. Anderson

Back to Pellucidar

PellucidarFor my second Vintage Sci Fi read, I went back to the world at the Earth’s core, with Pellucidar by Edgar Rice Burroughs.  This picks up where the first book left off, following the further adventures of David Innes in the world within the Earth.

There’s not much to be said about the plot–after all, it’s Burroughs, and that tells you most of it.  David makes it back to Pellucidar where he sets off through a hostile landscape to search for old friends, encounter new and old enemies, and of course to rescue (repeatedly) his poor beleagured true love, Dian, who is captured on at least three occasions.

It’s all good fun and good adventure, with strange landscapes, a never-ending parade of action, and quite a lot of death but nothing gruesome.  Like the first book, Pellucidar is striking me as a kind of Barsoom-lite.  The same basic shape, still very entertaining, but somehow not quite as striking as John Carter’s adventures on Mars–and this may have more to do with which order I read the books in than the books themselves.

Rather than dwell on the plot and the characters, I want to talk about some of the themes.  Lately it’s been uncanny how books I’ve picked up have unexpectedly fit into the larger discussion going on.  First it was Star Trek: The Abode of Life and the examination of transporter technology.  Now Pellucidar hits on a number of points that have come up recently.

First, The Abode of Life and Pellucidar both present a man from a more technologically-advanced society choosing what effect he will have on a new world he’s encountering.  Kirk went to great lengths to not be a conquistador (his words) for Mercan.  David plunges into precisely that role with abandon, becoming David I, Emperor of Pellucidar, and using advanced weaponry to conquer all the natives.

I realized long ago that I can’t look too closely at Burroughs’ philosophy, if I want to continue enjoying his books.  Still, I don’t feel like I can just pass right over the last twenty pages of Pellucidar, which are especially, um, troubling.  David simply takes it for granted that as the civilized man, he has both the right and the knowledge to assume a leadership role and impose an entirely new form of civilization on the natives.  His attempts to eradicate the Mahars, the dominant, lizard-like race, are particularly disturbing.  Though the Mahars do treat humans badly, they mostly seem to be condemned for the crime of not being human.  The emphasis is much more on their lizardness than on their actions.

It’s also a bit interesting that David doesn’t introduce money (calling it “the root of all evil”), but doesn’t mind introducing guns and cannons.  He does insist that his real interest is to spread education and trade and the Industrial Revolution…after obtaining peace by conquering everyone.

While I look askance at all of this, at the same time, I know Burroughs is a product of his time–Pellucidar was written while “the sun never set on the British Empire,” and decades before Kirk got his Prime Directive in the 1960s.  For the Dragonflight group-read, we discussed extensively how classic books carry into the modern day, and Burroughs definitely requires acknowledging that this was a different time.  In a way, it may help him that he’s so obvious about it–it makes it easier to draw a line around the objectionable bits, and move on.

That’s something I have to do most of the time with Burroughs’ heroines too.  The portrayal of the genders was a fascinating discussion with Dragonflight, and it was interesting to still have some of that in mind reading Pellucidar.  Burroughs heroes never treat women badly, or with the disdain that the dragonriders show–they generally worship the ground their heroines walk upon.  And yet, at the end of the day…the heroine is pretty much a beautiful face who plays the role of a prize to be won.

I noticed here that Dian is more than once referred to as very fierce and brave–but she never actually does anything.  She brandishes a javelin now and then, but is completely ineffectual at actually accomplishing anything (including using the javelin to fend off a kidnapper).  As comparison, Lessa is frequently marginalized and often treated (and depicted) as childish…but she does things!

To be fair, Dian may be a bit two-dimensional…but so is David, so it’s not entirely a gender thing.

And to be fair on another point, I don’t read Burroughs for his brilliant political insight, or his explorations of the human character.  I read him because he tells an exciting adventure story–and he’s never yet failed me at that!

Author’s Site: http://www.edgarriceburroughs.ca/

Other reviews:
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Buy it here: Pellucidar