Film: Quills

Quills is a 2000 film starring Geoffrey Rush, Kate Winslet, and Joaquin Phoenix, among others.  It is directed by Philip Kaufman and is based on a stage play; though honestly, I can't imagine anybody else playing these parts, even on stage, especially Rush's role.

Quills centers on the Marquis de Sade, a French nobleman who lived in the late 18th century; he was one of history's most reviled and yet celebrated libertines and lotharios.  He was also an author of very sexually explicit materials and novels such as Justine, which is heavily referenced in the movie.  In the film, the Marquis (Geoffrey Rush, Pirates of the Caribbean series) is already imprisoned [by the time the movie starts] in an insane asylum called Charenton.  This asylum is a religious institution overseen by the Abbe' de Coulmier (Joaquin Phoenix), who believes in humane, cultured therapy for the patients, taking forms such as choral groups, painting, etc.   De Sade has been tasked to not publish his work any longer, but he does anyway, with the secret help of a young laundress named Madeline (Kate Winslet, The Reader) who takes his manuscripts to a courier who delivers them to book publishers.  After the Emperor Napoleon becomes aware of the Marquis' works and their popularity, he commands the destruction of all extant copies of Justine.  In light of this, a scientist and part-time inquisitor named Royer-Collard (Michael Caine, Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, The Prestige), is sent to Charenton to monitor the activities of de Coulmier and Charenton's inmates, including de Sade.  The rest of the film involves Royer-Collard's efforts to unseat de Sade's hold of power over Charenton's culture and its employees, such as Madeline.  Royer-Collard makes it his personal mission to destroy the Marquis in any way he can, be it large or small.  

Despite the film's controversial subject matter and themes, this is one of my favorite films, most especially for the acting and the period setting.  Geoffrey Rush is incredible as de Sade; the word that came to mind as I was watching him was 'exuberant.'  He's so full of energy and he makes the Marquis more of a prankster than the abominable human being that his reputation, in both the world of the film and in history, has garnered him.  The truly despicable and villainous acts that de Sade is supposed to be known for happen either off-screen or have occurred in the past, before the film's time frame began--thus, these actions are talked about rather than seen, despite Quills' 'R' rating.  Rush makes his rogue even likable and very amusing at times--indeed, Rush is a real joy to see. 

Kate Winslet is also great.  I've always really liked her, and have thought she is so beautiful.  In this film, she is strong-willed, independent-minded and funny, holding her own against the likes of Michael Caine and Geoffrey Rush.  On that note, Winslet has some great chemistry with Rush, [despite their age difference] especially in scenes where they are together in his cell.  Hell, she has better chemistry with him, in my opinion, than with Phoenix, who is really supposed to be her love interest.  Madeline's brief love affair with the Abbe' is one of the weaker portions of the movie, I believe.  Phoenix is also good, however, particularly when he's not involved in the love story part of the movie. I think the failure of this love story has more to do with the writing/script than Phoenix's performance, to be fair.  His priestly character and subtle perspective is an interesting counterpoint to both the more showy, lecherous Marquis and the forceful, rather brutish Royer-Collard.  This brings me to Michael Caine as Royer-Collard.  This character is not likable in the least, and the first few times I watched Quills, I saw Royer-Collard as merely a one-note villain and therefore, I hated him.  On the other hand, I recently re-watched Quills and I found Royer-Collard to have more dimension to his character than on my previous viewings.  I still think he's cold, calculating and cruel, but I'm also starting to understand why he does what he does and to see how he manipulates the other characters in the film to achieve his ambitious agenda.  Caine's character truly has an "iron resolve," as one character remarks early in the film.  

Furthermore, I wanted to point out a character from Quills that most viewers probably would miss.  His name is M. Delbine' (Patrick Malahide) and he is a minor character in comparison to the others, like de Sade and de Coulmier.  Delbine' appears to be an adviser to Napoleon and is the person who initially recommends Royer-Collard's peculiar talents.  I like Delbine' because of his dry wit.  I thought the scenes featuring him were quite humorous, in particular the scene in which he reads passages of Justine to the emperor, and he is visibly mortified by what he reads.

Vampire Diaries: Elena and Damon

In this post, I am going to mention a few crucial scenes between Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore that the TV series version of the (first four) Vampire Diaries books (by L.J. Smith) has left out.  Sometimes I feel like I'll never forgive the writers and/or directors of The Vampire Diaries TV show for making these changes, even though I can understand from a practical perspective why they did it [time or budgetary reasons, etc].  

Spoilers [for the book series]:

---Damon has control of the [albeit local] weather because he drinks human blood and through that, gains this ability.  There is a passage near the end of the first book, The Awakening, which flows into the beginning of the second book, The Struggle, where he causes a snowstorm and Elena is caught in it, and as a disembodied voice, he taunts her and says she'll be his before long.  (252-264)  

---Also in The Awakening, there is a scene where [I sort of mentioned this in my other post about the book/show] Elena, upon Bonnie's suggestion, holds a "dumb supper" seemingly for the heck of it, [I think it was on Halloween] where instead of seeing the image of her future husband in the mirror, Damon strolls in and starts flirting with her and reciting some Edgar Allan Poe.  (176-179)

---In The Struggle, [the second book] Elena is on a house's balcony or widow's walk talking to Damon, and threatens to throw herself off the balcony, and Damon basically tells her, don't be stupid.  She does jump off the balcony and he goes after her and rescues her, admonishing her afterwards. (411-412)

---Also in The Struggle, there is a fun and lovely-written dream sequence in which Elena has a dream where she is in a ballroom dressed in a Renaissance-style gown and then, Damon wanders in, also in Renaissance garb, tries to dance with her but she at first refuses him.  I love the imagery described in this section. (368-372)

My favorite lines said by Damon that seem to have been cut from the show:  "I usually remember girls I leave wandering around in their slips," "If you're that eager to meet death I can introduce you myself" (TS 412) and "Interesting things happen in the dark...sometimes (TA 164)."

Album: 10,000 Days by Tool

10,000 Days by [the band] Tool is an awesome album that deserves more respect.  I don't understand why it's widely disliked (and was damned with faint praise by some professional critics when it was originally issued), even now, several years after its initial release--it came out in 2006.  Sometimes I see comments (like on the Internet) where people say, 'Oh, it's not Lateralus.'  Well, of course it's not.  Tool is a band that is always changing and doing something profoundly different, especially with their music.  As you can tell, I'm a big Tool fan.  Anyway, I don't know if 10,000 Days is better than Lateralus, but it is certainly as good.  "Jambi," to me is a classic, and "Vicarious" is a really strong opener, but then Tool consistently has strong opening songs on their albums, such as "Stinkfist" and "The Grudge" (one of my favorites).

I'm not a musician, so I don't really know technical terms for music, etc. but I can say that the music in the song "Vicarious" is unique and really unlike anything I've heard before.  The subject matter of "Vicarious" 's lyrics seems to be about culture's addiction to violence, and how this is funneled through film and TV programming.  Tool always seems to have timely and interesting social commentary to offer.  "Wings for Marie, Parts 1 & 2" is an almost 20-minute cycle of songs that is definitely worth sitting through in order to listen to it.  It's one of the band's more touching pieces; a beautiful tribute to one of the band members' deceased loved ones.  "The Pot" 's music is like "Vicarious" 's in that it is singular; the lyrics, music, and the way Maynard James Keenan sings it are vicious, caustic and scathing, but therein lies its strength, I think.  I've never heard Keenan sing like that before, but I like it.

Also, don't skip over "Lost Keys/Blame Hoffmann," even though it may be tempting to initially.  It's instrumental (mostly), which not everybody likes, and it's dark in tone, and some may call it depressing, but I love this song for its dark nature and subtlety and richness.  At the end of the song is a short, bizarre spoken conversation that serves as a set up and lead in for the next song, "Rosetta Stoned"; this is part of why it should be listened to, to better understand the context of "Rosetta Stoned."  On that note, "Rosetta Stoned" appears to be about a guy who is having hallucinations about his own alien abduction, caused by some acid he had previously taken.  Of course, I could be wrong in my interpretation.  I read somewhere once that Tool's lyrics are deliberately written to be ambiguous, and this certainly proves true with "Rosetta Stoned."  "Rosetta Stoned" is an amazing song, partly for its musical complexity and sense of drama and partly for its consistency.  It reminds me of Tool's song from Aenima, "Third Eye," which although a great song and very complicated in its music and lyrics (which are hilarious, by the way), is also quite messy in its structure, which I think brings it down somewhat from being an excellent song.  To me, "Rosetta Stoned" fixes some of these problems--it's tighter and more streamlined, while still being very complex musically and amusing in its lyrics.  I've often thought this when listening to "Rosetta Stoned": this song reminds me of what "Third Eye" could be if it were cleaned up--so I guess its true potential.  Well, one of the things I love about Tool is the way they can mix seriousness and satire.

Novel: Lord of Light, by Roger Zelazny

The novel Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny is one of the most frustrating books I've read yet.  My opinion of this book is very mixed, i.e. it's like me having a love/hate relationship with it.  On one hand, I had wanted to read this book because it's touted as a Sci-Fi classic and also because I can already see its influence on later Sci-Fi movies and TV shows such as Babylon 5, Stargate, Caprica, and Battlestar Galactica--I had wanted to see how Lord of Light inspired them. In addition, I was attracted to the book because of its subject matter--it features heavy allusions to Hindu/Asian Indian mythology, as well as to Buddhism, all of which I find fascinating. So, how could (did) this book go wrong for me?

Well, first off, for some reason, I could not get beyond page 40, and I've tried reading Lord of Light three different times.  Earnestly.  You may be wondering why I bothered to write a review for a book I not only did not care for that much, but also that I did not complete: it is because of my strong feelings towards it.  I looked across the Internet to other reviews of this book on other blogs, etc. and I discovered that there is almost universal praise for this book, and that is fine. I also found that Lord of Light is more widely read than I previously had thought--I had guessed it to be rather obscure, but I suppose it is only to a point. It is a book I definitely appreciate more than I like: I mean, I respect the author's talent, creativity, imagination, and knowledge of Eastern mythologies, and that's why I feel so bad about not enjoying this book more than I have. Technique-wise and stylistically, however, I found Lord of Light to be less than coherent for much of the parts that I read.  It seems that the book is supposed to be both Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and while I don't really have a problem with mixing and/or combining genres (sometimes that actually turns out pretty good), the result of this novel's attempt at that is, as stated above, not really (to me, at least) a cohesive whole. Furthermore, I didn't like that as I was reading the book, I found myself reading the sentences over and over,  sometimes to appreciate the language, other times to figure out what the hell was going on. I'm not really a slow reader, so this problem might have something to do with the way Zelazny tells his story.

Yet I must list the things about this book that I did, in fact, enjoy. Besides the core mythology, I loved the novel's language; it is deceptively simple, yet when read aloud, it has a poetic quality and resonance. Here are a couple of examples that stood out for me: "Snakes of blue lightning coiled, hissing, above the mountaintops" (11) and " 'But Yama is no child, that he fears breaking the mirror you [Lord Mara] have become' " (40). Often when I read, I don't take well to stilted language, especially in dialogue, but with this book, I felt the more formal language was a strength. The other attribute of Lord of Light I admired was the humor--as I read, I laughed at certain points, particularly in regards to the dialogue. And there were a couple characters that I felt relatively positive about:  for instance, Tak, the man-turned-ape, is one of the few likable characters, and Yama, who is called "the death god," is interesting, intense, and complex.

Of course, my opinion of Lord of Light probably isn't helped by the fact that the edition I read was a musty, yellowed 40 year old copy from a public library with bad cover art and a half ripped off cover.

TV Series: Caprica

Caprica is a TV series that was broadcast on the SyFy channel from 2009-2011, and for part of its run was a lead-in show for Stargate Universe (SGU).  Caprica was considered a quasi-prequel of the, admittedly, much more popular (and revamped) 2004 Battlestar Galactica, which, as of this writing, I have not yet seen.  Caprica and Galactica, from what I understand, are very different, in terms of types of characters, and narrative scope and structure. 

Despite its advertising campaign, which featured a young woman who was also one of the show's main characters, Caprica focuses on adult characters (as much it does the show's teens), such as a technological magnate named Daniel Graystone (Eric Stoltz, The Waterdance); a corrupt lawyer, Joseph Adama (Esai Morales); Adama's brother, a mobster called Samuel (Sasha Roiz); and a zealot by the name of Clarice Willow (Polly Walker).  As I mentioned previously, Caprica has its share of younger characters, too, who play a major role in the storyline(s):  there is Daniel's daughter, Zoe (Alessandra Torressani); Zoe's best friend, Lacy; and Joseph Adama's daughter, Tamara. 

The sets and costume designs of the show are very interesting; noirish and yet semi-futuristic. It kind of reminds me of the great sci-fi movie Dark City (and with Caprica's general costume design and sense of suspense, it is a bit like the movie The Adjustment Bureau).  There is also a virtual world the characters tap into, which works like a cross between the real-life Internet and video games, like Halo, where you can talk into headsets to people around the world who are playing the game with you live.  The look of "V-World," as it's known to Caprica's characters, is, to me, a lot like the movie (one of my favorites) Sin City (especially in one particular game called "New Cap City"). 

One of the things about Caprica that I enjoyed is the coming of age of Zoe.  What I'm about to mention is technically a spoiler, but it is rather necessary to know to understand Zoe's narrative trajectory.  In the pilot episode, Zoe is killed in a terrorist bombing (which heavily impacts the show's characters and the rest of the season's storylines), but it is discovered later that she left behind a digitized avatar of herself, only accessible through "V-World"; this avatar, however, is much more sophisticated and 'complete' than other digital avatars from either Caprica's world or ours, such as in the program "Second Life."  I guess it's as if Zoe took her total living self and transferred it to digital form--characters mention how she had downloaded many of her written records into her avatar, for instance.  I liked watching how despite how 'complete' the avatar is, she has to struggle emotionally with not being a real person and also the fact that when she is released into the real world, she is downloaded into the bulky body of a robot soldier.  The contrast between the robot soldier body and the teenage girl's soul is gripping. Among the questions Zoe has to wrestle with is, is she the real Zoe?; if not, how is she different?

Novel: In the Suicide Mountains by John C. Gardner

     In the Suicide Mountains is a 1977 novel by the late John C. Gardner, who also wrote books like Grendel and The Art of Fiction, which often show up on high school and college reading lists, at least they did for me.  Mountains is an original fairy tale, as opposed to being a retelling or adaptation, nothing wrong with those of course--I've enjoyed such types too.   Mountains has, unfortunately, at least as far as I know, been long out of print, so it might be really hard to find in traditional book form, unless you bought it used on Amazon.  However, I am aware that is actually available on Kindle, so if you wanted, you could get it there.  It is criminal, to me, that this book has been out of the public consciousness for so long (I think it had been out of print for like over 20 years).  I feel the same way about some of the Joseph Campbell books, like the Masks of God series (which I think have been out of print for something ridiculous like 40 years), but that is a topic for another post.  Anyway, after reading In the Suicide Mountains, I think Gardner might be one of the best revisionist fairy tale authors this side of the wonderful, late Angela Carter. 
     In the Suicide Mountains is told from the point of view of several characters, all of whom make a journey into a local mountain chain for a certain task, which makes this adventure not a standard journey tale.  The connecting thread between these characters is that they are all outcasts and have been rejected by their loved ones.  There is a young girl named Armida who is beautiful but is also superhumanly (physically) strong.  Another character taking this trip is called Christopher the Sullen, who is the kingdom's prince, but he is mocked by the royal family for not being masculine enough, in that he prefers to play his violin to either ruling or doing typical heroic things like slaying dragons.  And then there is Chudu 'the Goat's Son' -- a dwarf with magical powers:  he is a shapeshifter.  There is a reason that these mountains have their particular name--one can guess, I'm sure. 
     Each character is in the midst of their own personal battle with depression when they meet and listen to one another's stories.  Then they hear about a marvelous monastery located further on into the mountains which contains a monk who has the ability to heal.   The trio decides to travel to the monastery to meet this mysterious monk.  Once they arrive there, the monk tells them stories---a couple of folktales are woven into the text, including one called "Vasily the Luckless," which is based on a real Russian fairy tale called "Marco the Rich and Vasily the Luckless."   These folktales are kind of fun to read and serve to give the book a certain interesting meta-narrative quality.   A dragon does end up getting slain in this novel, in an exciting sequence, and suffice it to say, this is done in a way that reverses traditional gender and heroic roles.  The central villain is a fascinating character called "the notorious six-fingered man" who is skilled in smoke and mirrors techniques; he appears later in the book and presents a series of challenges for our unusual heroes. 
     I love In the Suicide Mountains because it overturns traditional fairy tale tropes and stereotypes and it introduces new ideas into the mix.  And the way the book deals with villainy and evil is, I think, kind of revolutionary and unique--for instance, the six-fingered man tells Armida, Prince Christopher and Chudu that he does good acts, not because he makes a conscious choice to, or because he wants to genuinely help people, but because these acts are a sort of compulsion and they distract him from his otherwise miserable life.   So yeah, the six-fingered man's not really doing anything out of the goodness of his heart.  And yet, after the six-fingered man's demise, he gets to make amends in a nicely symbolic, transcendent way, since most villains in literature and film don't seem to receive such a chance for atonement.

Novel: Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

       Something Wicked This Way Comes is a young adult/children's novel published in 1962 and written by Ray Bradbury, who recently passed away (June 5, 2012) which is a shame, as he was one of the United States' foremost, legendary (and then-living) science fiction writers.  Something Wicked This Way Comes is about two boys, Will Halloway and Jim Nightshade (whose names are quite significant and cleverly chosen by Bradbury) who attend a traveling carnival that has arrived in their hometown in time for Halloween.  While at the carnival, they notice very strange (and not in the least sinister) occurrences and people, and they, along with Will's father Charles, gradually become involved in a fight for their and their families' lives.
       Something Wicked is an interesting book and it definitely shows Bradbury's skill as a writer: his prose is melodic and fluid and very lovely. But I kind of wish I had read it many years ago, say in junior high or high school, when maybe I would have appreciated it more. The kids and their father seem cut from a 'golly, gee willikers, aw shucks' cloth of the 1950s (possibly earlier, I wasn't able to figure out when exactly this book was set) that doesn't really jibe w/ today--you can sort of tell it was written and published in the early 1960s.
       But the part that I like best, along with Bradbury's prose style, is the villain, Mr. Dark, who also goes by the intriguing title 'The Illustrated Man.'   He's pretty badass and menacing, for an antagonist of yesteryear, and a children's book at that. And the emphasis on his tattoos is fascinating--there is such a focus on his body and the violence he does to it--pinching, smacking, sweating, etc.  In fact, there's quite a bit of noting, by the omniscient narrator, of Mr. Dark's sweat; I'm not quite sure, but there could be something symbolic in that--might be a good discussion point for someone.  And on top of that, Mr. Dark often appears shirtless. At times, I wished this had been an adult novel--Bradbury might have exploited that body/sensuous theme more if that was so; and I do wonder how it might have been written differently, for, say, a more sophisticated age group like adults. 
       As it is, it's cool what Bradbury does with the tattoos--there's a supernatural theme involved--the tattoos act as a sort of voodoo doll on Mr. Dark's skin, where he can cause people physical pain, if he does something to the tattoo. And Dark seems telepathic too, which is awesome and creepy as hell in this case. Mr. Dark seems like a great character stuck in an otherwise rather mediocre (in my opinion) novel. I've read books sometimes that are like that, though. Another quibble I have with Something Wicked is Mr. Cooger--I thought Bradbury did away with Cooger before he could do much that was either interesting or threatening. I was hoping to see Cooger be a foil or something to Mr. Dark, or maybe be villainous in a different way, such as have a distinct style of evil/evil-doing which would contrast with Mr. Dark's style of threat. 
     An example of this villain vs. villain effect that's on my mind now is season 4 of the TV show Heroes.  I know a lot of people don't care for S4, and I had to re-watch it a couple times to come to this conclusion, but it's not a completely awful season and certain subplots, as well as certain characters, like Samuel, pull one in.  Furthermore, I was fond of the freak Eli, the 'amazing replicating man.'  Anyway, there's one great scene where Sylar (Zachary Quinto) and Samuel Sullivan (Robert Knepper) hold a conversation and then face off with their respective powers.
     Even though I've given Something Wicked a rather mixed review, I'm not saying don't read it; well, by all means, read it, you may be entertained--I'm aware a lot of people like this little novel, and it's often considered a horror/sci-fi/fantasy YA/children's classic.  I suppose my point, then, is that the 1950s type characters and their attitudes, styles of dialogue, etc. might not wear well or translate that well facing today's attitudes--they may seem hokey or out-dated to some readers today, especially younger ones.  Although perhaps kids might not mind that seeming hokiness, who knows; those were just my feelings coming to the book as an adult.   Also, the whole 'evil carnival' theme/subplot, with its carousels of aging (I'm reminded of a more recent example in Cornelia Funke's Thief Lord children's novel) and evil fortunetellers and ringmasters, might seem cliched and derivative to some readers, when ironically, Something Wicked This Way Comes might possibly be one of the first books to use the 'evil carnival' trope.  I do, however, think said novel does this trope pretty well; the carousels and evil fortunetellers and ringmasters are definitely creepy and somewhat unsettling, if not chilling or scary.