Ravings of a Textual Deviant

It hasn’t been all sturm und drang the past couple of weeks; I did actually get out to see two recent films based on young-adult novels, Jumpers and Spiderwick Chronicles. Now, there’s a lot of good YA lit out there that I read and enjoy; Phillip Pullman is my current favorite. The film version of his Golden Compass wasn’t bad, but it seemed to be missing something…a theme that carried through both Jumpers and Spiderwick Chronicles.

I have to say that I loved the concept of Jumpers, and even the inconsistent physics didn’t really bother me (example: does momentum carry through on a jump, or not?). The action sequences were exciting and watchable. But somehow, it didn’t grab me. Nothing was particularly bad, but I didn’t think that anything was particularly noteworthy, either. I haven’t read the book, so perhaps whatever-it-is that the film lacks comes through in print. All in all, I found it mildly entertaining, but wouldn’t have missed it if I’d missed it.

I do know exactly what I was missing from Spiderwick Chronicles—character development. This film’s pacing is definitely designed to hold the interest of a young audience, and that doesn’t leave much room for depth. Throw in a happy ending—something I tend to find unsatisfying in mot cases—and the film comes off as pretty, but lightweight. The production design is very nice; the special effects have an excellent degree of realism, and the actor who plays both Jared and Simon did such a good job that I didn’t realize until the end credits that it was the same kid. Again, I haven’t read the book(s), so perhaps that would be a more satisfying version of the story for me. But I didn’t really have a reason to care about the film’s characters, so I didn’t.

I’m not going to dicuss all the controversy surrounding the film at any great length; I’ll save that for someone who cares.

If you have already made up your mind on this topic, skip the rest of this post, because nothing I write is going to change your opinion.

I shall confine my remarks to the following: I don’t find the movie to be anti-Catholic. Anti-religious hierarchy, yes. But specifically anti-Catholic?

No.

I repeat, no. N. O.

Anti-religion in general, you could argue either way. There’s a great deal of the plot that revolves around the nature and importance of souls, and the subject of free will figures prominently in the series. OTOH, I believe that the author has publicly said that he is either an agnostic or an atheist—it escapes my memory which one—and it’s easy to see how that affects the story, too.

Whatever. It’s darned fine storytelling, and that’s what I care about.

I remember several years back when the first rumors of making a film based on the series were floated, a pal and I were discussing the probability of it ever getting made. Her opinion? “Gay angels? It’ll never happen.” Frankly, given the religious temperament of the country these days, I am surprised that it got made…let alone that a major children’s press was willing to put its name front and center on the thing (see above).

But I am pleased. Very, very pleased indeed.

The film script ends well short of the end of the first book, and I find the choice of endpoint to be an absolutely fascinating one. I’m very interested to see how a second movie proceeds, as the transition between the end of book one and the beginning of book two could be a jarring one, mid-film. (Read the books; it’ll make sense). Still, one doesn’t feel cheated out of a full story. Between them, Peter Jackson and the Harry Potter franchise have taught us that you can leave a lot out of a book and still make a film that hangs together well.

Well, Peter Jackson has, anyway.

As my regular readers would know, if I had any, I am sucker for production design. They would also know that I am of the opinion that the very best design adds to the film unobtrusively; unless you have special interest or work professionally at it (and are therefore attuned to it), it’s convincing without being prominent. The Golden Compass is absolutely beautiful, and does a wonderful job of capturing the spirit of Lyra’s world as described in the book. The contrast between the dignified, dark (occasionally dingy and dangerous) Oxford and the light, golden glitter of Mrs. Coulter’s world is subtle but effective. The details in the outdoor Trollesund and Svalbard scenes are wonderful, as is the laboratory-like sterility of both Bolvangar and the Magisterium HQ’s interior. I thought that the interior of the Svalbard palace ought to have been grottier, though, as Pullman goes to great length describing its grime and odor in the book.

Next, special effects. Like production design, effects should add to the film, rather than calling attention to themselves. The daemons are fit into the film seamlessly, which is how it should be. I was also extremely impressed with the way the panserbjorn were rendered. Animators seem to want to use cats as models for all kinds of animals (most notoriously, dragons); in this case, however, temptation was resisted, and the panserbjorn (I love that word, panserbjorn) move like bears. The design of the armor is also very well done. (”Too much chainmail,” my fellow movie-goer opined. I disagree. If you pay attention, the amount of chainmail is just as much a code for “human-like” as the amount and elaborateness of decoration on the armor itself.)

And, oh yeah, the acting. Sam Elliott and Kathy Bates are the perfect Lee Scorsby and Hester. Christopher Lee, as the First High Councilor of the Magisterium, brings the same creepy certainty of his LoTR Saruman to his performance. It is truly disturbing, despite his relatively brief appearance. Simon McBurton, as a Fra Pavel much changed and expanded from the book, is delightfully cold and dark, and dare I say it, soulless. (Does anyone even remember action seeing his daemon in the film?). Charlie Rowe (Billy Costa) also pulls off a creditable performance in the earlier part of the film, but I found his last scenes to be a bit lightweight, as if nobody had quite explained to him the significance of what was going on. (Of course, there could be some good stuff on the cutting-room floor, but I would have liked to have seen that pivtol scene done better.) Ben Walker (Roger) has a good grasp of the concept of “supporting role” and provides a great foil for Dakota Blue Richards’s Lyra.

Dakota Blue Richards is awesome.

If she can keep her head together as she transitions from child actress to adult actress, she is going to be absolutely devastating. Anyone who can keep up with Nicole Kidman (Mrs. Coulter) on her first day out has got what it takes. And speaking of Nicole Kidman, I understand she was the first choice for the role of Mrs. Coulter, and nails the role. Daniel Craig’s is well cast as Lord Asriel, and I am looking forward to seeing the scenes that he has with Nicole Kidman in future movies in the series. That should be worth the price of admission.

Neil Gaiman co-directed this film, which is based on his novel of the same name. I’ve read the book, but it was so long ago that only only remembered the bare bones of the plot. If memory serves–and I’m not claiming it does—the film improves upon the book by allowing Gaiman to flesh out supporting characters and add tons of lush detail to the settings. Visually, the film is absolutely stunning, much in the way that the recent Narnia film was. The music is also fantastic, and does what a soundtrack ought to—enhance the story without being obtrusive.

The acting is also delightful; it’s a fairy tale (albeit very much not a Disney version) and we expect archetypes. Like so much of Gaiman’s work, we get them, but with a twist. The entire cast seemed to really enjoy their work, and Michelle Pfeiffer is outstanding as the wickedest witch you’d never want to meet. Claire Danes, as Yvaine, delivers snarky lines with all the sarcasm and derision one would expect from an alumna of My So-Called Life. (”I was perfectly fine here until I was hit by a magical flying MORON!”)

I could rave for hours about the script, the cinematography, set design, the costumes, the props, the effects, and so on, but I can’t do justice to it, and frankly, seeing the movie is a better use of your time anyway.

Q: What do you get when you combine a Celtic quartet without percussion with, as one band member puts it, the only working Celtic band without either a fiddler or a whistle player?

A: A version of Lorena McKennitt’s “Mummer’s Dance” that raises goosebumps. It was that good.

Six Women and a Giraffe was a smashing success; two great bands that sound even better together. Alair and Wild Mercy, either of which is always worth the cost of admission, combine to form a truly formidable septet. Harpist Jen Midkiff is the bridge between the two groups, and while it makes a long night for her, I hope that the recent joint concert is only the first of many.

Take my word for it; you do NOT want to miss the next one…and I will use my elbows to make sure I’m ahead of you in the ticket line.

I’m picky about my action flicks, and skeptical of sequels. A lot of critics are raving about The Bourne Ultimatum, and while I’m not sure I agree that it’s better than #1 and/or #2, it’s at least as good as the first movie…and that’s good enough for me.

There’s lots of the trademark shaky-cam in the action sequences, and while I understand that the point is realism, it makes it hard to follow the action sometimes. However, there’s all the action we’ve come to expect, and then some. I also liked the fact that a couple of female characters actually did the smart thing in their chase sequences—destroying the GPS-tracked cell phone, and making the best use of a fax machine in a film since Office Space.

Overall, Bourne 3 is a series of chase sequences strung on a thin plot without a lot of subtlety, but it’s a good ride and I enjoyed it.

If you like the Gallery of Regrettable Food, you’ll like The Amazing Mackeral Pudding Plan. It’s a similar idea; truly scary recipes with color commentary. I’m not sure that anything I could say about it would have quite the effect of Finacé’s revelation after reading one of the captions, which was “There’s a whole category of friends I didn’t even know I was missing—people who know what bong water looks like.”

I’ve ranted and roared about Great Big Sea’s albums before, so it should come as no surprise that I had high expectations for Saturday’s live show at the Music Mill.

Ladies and gentlemen, I was not disappointed.

Saturday night was their last show of the tour, and they did not hold anything back, through two one-hour sets and two encores. Both the band and the sold-out crowd were bouncing up and down by the end of the night; everyone in the room was obviously having a wonderful time. Every single member of the band was rock-solid, even if one or two were a bit rough around the edges after the long haul. Each one of them still managed a lot of eye contact and interaction with the crowd. Of course, in a venue when you can come right up to the edge of the stage, it’s hardly surprising, but I was far off to one side and near the back, and couldn’t have been more involved if I were front and center.

We got songs from almost every album, as well as “Walk on the Moon,” which will be on the next album. (And I assure you, I’ll be first in line at amazon to buy it.) We had songs about pirates (as Alan said, what concert is complete without a song about a pirate), dead horses, berry-picking, and nagging wives. We had slow love songs and fast drinking songs.

I can only hope that they’ll come back to Indy when the next album comes out. If they do, that’ll be my elbow in your ribs as I cut in line for tickets.

Mil Millington’s third novel, Love and Other Near-Death Experiences, is the story of a radio presenter—that’s the same as an “announcer,” for my fellow Americans—having what my friend Sandy once called a third-of-a-life crisis (thirty-one being too young for a midlife crisis).

Personally, I’m a fan of Millington’s work for two reasons; he’ll put absolutely anything in writing, and he’ll describe whatever it is in such a way as to guarantee that Rule #1—Don’t Visualize—will be broken in a thoroughly egregious manner. Not a single character in Love and Other Near-Death Experiences seems to have a working internal censor. Not only do I know people like that…I am people like that.

Like its most recent predecessor, A Certain Chemistry, there’s a lot to think about between the lines. Unlike its predecessor, though, the type of thinking it prompts is the that which tends to be done by drunken undergraduate philosophy students in the wee small hours of the morning. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I wasn’t terribly surprised by how the two main plot lines were resolved, but I did enjoy getting there.

Give it a try—the book, not the type of thinking that tends to be done by drunken undergraduate philosophy students in the wee small hours of the morning…unless, of course, you are one and it is.

Last night was the second time I’ve seen Gaelic Storm live, and both times, they’ve delivered a fun, high-energy show. There were a couple of new songs, and some of the same old jokes, including GS’s very own variations on “Johnny Tarr.” I didn’t get to hear a couple of songs I was hoping for, but I certainly didn’t go away wanting for a good time. They had a good mix of traditional and original pieces, and while Patrick Murphy did most of the singing, Steve Twigger was very strong when his turn came around. I’m looking forward to some more new material when they come back to Indy in September, but lack of it won’t keep me away. Hope to see you there.

On Saturday, I went to see Carmel Community Players’ production of Moliére’s The Imaginary Invalid, mostly because my pal Amy has the female lead, but also because it is Moliére, after all.

CCP has chosen to alter the setting from the seventeenth century to the 1920s, which works fairly well; satire and doctor jokes have staying power. Some of the social interaction is a bit anachronistic, but not enough to cause me any cognitive dissonance. I don’t know enough about 1920s clothing and furniture to comment on the details of the sets and costuming, but I could tell there was a lot of attention to detail, which is always a nice touch. As for the performance, I could tell that the actors were having a very good time. The energy level on stage was high, and the timing and pacing was spot on.

The Imaginary Invalid is calling in sick this coming weekend, but will be back March 17th-19th.