WWdN: In Exile

"reinventing?" uh-oh. i'm not sure how i feel about this

Wired says that JJ Abrams promises to "reinvent" Star Trek:

"Effects for Star Trek have never, ever been done like this," says Abrams, who credits George Lucas' Industrial Light and Magic for the visual fireworks.  

Abrams was fanatical about Star Wars as a kid. But Star Trek? Not so much. Directing the new movie, he tells the Associated Press, "was an opportunity to take the characters, the thoughtfulness, the personalities, the sense of adventure, the idea of humanity working together, the sense of social commentary and innovation, all that stuff and apply it in a way that felt genuinely thrilling."

Without a lot of context, it's tough to puzzle out exactly what this means for guys like us who've loved Trek forever and ever. If he's just talking about bringing modern special effects to Star Trek, which totally would make it more thrilling to watch, this is great news.

However, if this "reinventing" -- which is such a loaded term in this post-Episode One world (5-19-99 never forget!) -- extends to some of the fundamentals of the Star Trek mythos, and if he wants to make Star Trek more like Star Wars, we could be looking at the biggest geekriot in history.

On one hand, this could be Abrams saying, "I'm going to take Star Trek and make it relevant to an audience that hasn't loved it and watched it for 40 years." That's not necessarily a bad thing.

On the other hand, it could be him saying, "Look, Trekkies, I know you've been watching this show for 40 years, but I'm JJ Fucking Abrams and if I want to 'reinvent' this thing that means so much to you, I'm going to do it. So don't get your spacesuits in a knot when I put turbines on the Enterprise, okay? They look cool!" That would be a very bad thing.

Speaking as a lifelong geek, my knee-jerk reaction when I hear someone talking about "reinventing" something like Trek is that it will be a tower of suck, built out of an endless supply of Jar-Jars and midichlorians.

However! Ron Moore reinvented BSG, and it's the greatest thing ever, so reinventing things isn't automatically horrible. In fact, if the article had been titled "JJ Abrams promises thrilling effects for Star Trek movie" I'd be celebrating right now. Language is important, as they say.

I guess it comes down to who is doing the reinventing, and if their vision builds upon the existing foundation in an interesting way, instead of pulling a massive, insulting retcon on us all. In his favor, JJ Abrams is really, really good at starting things (not so much with the keeping them awesome after one season, sadly,) but absolutely awesome at starting things. Since this is the beginning of Star Trek, I'm hopeful. Apprehensive, but hopeful.

So, yeah, not entirely sure how I feel about the "reinventing." At least the people who totally fucked Star Trek up aren't involved, but why does anyone need to "reinvent" Star Trek at all? There's a good reason it managed to endure through four decades and several generations of Trekkies and casual viewers alike. I hope JJ Abrams groks that, because I really want to like this movie.

Oh, how about an almost-instant update:

JJ Abrams also says:

 

"It was an opportunity to take what I think has been a maligned world _ to sound crass, a franchise _ and treat it in a way that made it something that I wanted to see"

[...]

"The whole point was to try to make this movie for fans of movies, not fans of `Star Trek,' necessarily,'" Abrams said. "If you're a fan, we've got one of the writers who's a devout Trekker, so we were able to make sure we were serving the people who are completely enamored with `Star Trek.' But we are not making the movie for that contingent alone.

 

"You can't really make a movie for them. As soon as you start to guess what you think they are going to want to see, you're in trouble. You have to make the movie in many ways for what you want to see yourself, make a movie you believe in. Then you're not second-guessing an audience you don't really have an understanding of."

That makes a lot of sense, but, uh, JJ? You should probably understand Trekkies if you're making a Star Trek movie. Seriously, have one of your minions make you a quickstart guide or something; it's not that tough.

Anyway, making it for fans of movies instead of exclusively for Trekkies is something I can completely agree with, and shows that he understands the massive challenge that making a movie like this brings. That's real good news, as long as he doesn't go turning Star Trek into Attack of The Four Toed Statues or something.

He also says:

"I feel like this is so unlike what you expect, so unlike the `Star Trek' you've seen. At the same time, it's being true to what's come before, honoring it," Abrams said.

I'm going to commit heresy right now and say what few people are willing to say out loud: most of the Star Trek movies are absolute garbage. There have been ten Trek movies, and I'd say that two of them are accessible to mainstream audiences, another two are great, and the remaining six are nearly unwatchable. If JJ Abrams wants to make his new Trek movie unlike the 80% of Trek movies that aren't that good, that's just fine with me. Not that my opinion means anything, you understand, but rambling on and on about things like this is the price of being a geek, and I regret nothing. NOTHING!

this is one hell of a geeky weekend

I just put the finishing touches on the note for the house sitter (my favorite new addition to the standard boilerplate: how to hook up Rock Band without messing up my tours) and I'm about to head out to San Diego for some awesome geekery this weekend.

Before I leave, though, I had to say: Go see Iron Man this weekend. It is awesome.  I saw a preview screening on Monday, and other than the score (which is absolute crap) the movie is damn near perfect. I think it’s the best comic book movie since Sin City, and blows Transformers and the last two X-Men movies into oblivion.

Need a little more convincing? Go see it for the pitch-perfect performances, lead by Robert Downey Junior, who absolutely makes this film so enjoyable. io9 says, “Iron Man is the first comic-book movie that’s actually better than its source material. That’s partly because Iron Man is one of the most boring characters in the history of comics, but it’s also because the movie manages to transcend its source.” I was never a fan of Iron Man, but I'm positively looney for this movie.

If you're looking for other ways to get your geek on this weekend: tomorrow is Free Comic Book Day, there's a Maker Faire in the Bay Area, JPL's Open House is in Los Angeles and there's a BarCamp in San Diego.

Oh, and did I mention that I'll be in San Diego?

i made some funny

My friends Greg and Kim are brilliant writers, and wonderfully creative people. I met them at ACME, where I had the pleasure of performing with them both, and writing with Kim.

Greg has a company called Mediocre Films ("They're better than they sound") that has created some hilarious shorts, including Phone Call to God and Shoes. Kim is the executive producer on a web-based series called The Guild, which just won a YouTube award, (it will sit nicely on a shelf with the eleventy billion other awards they've won) and the two of them collaborate on the Gorgeous Tiny Chicken Machine Show.

Greg and Kim have a friend named Ponce, who has Down syndrome. Ponce is an actor and a comedian, and they worked together to come up with a series of comedic shorts they could release on YouTube. They call it Retarded Policeman, and it's really, really funny.

Greg and Kim are doing with video and sketch comedy what I'm doing with publishing: refusing to take the traditional route to reach an audience, and having a lot of fun while we do it. Greg and I have been trying to find a way to do a Mediocre Film together for a long time, so when Greg offered me a chance to work on Retarded Policeman, I grabbed it.

I'm sure this will offend some people, but I want to make it clear that nobody is exploiting or making fun of Ponce, or anyone who has Down syndrome. If that was the case, none of us would have done it. If anything, it's making fun of how arbitrary and, well, retarded police stops can be. This episode makes a reference to Episode 4, which was really funny until it wasn't.

If you liked this, you should totally watch Episode 6, which I think is absolutely hilarious and the funniest one yet.

in a galaxy far, far away

Saul Bass was a graphic designer who did credits for films like North by Northwest and The Man With The Golden Arm. He was a talented graphic designer, who created some of the most iconic logos in history, including the AT&T Death Star.

Yesterday, I came across this student project that imagines what Saul Bass would have done if Star Wars had been released two decades earlier.

picture start (or, wil rambles on and on about movies he's recently seen)

My writing muscles have atrophied over the last three weeks, and they need to be warmed up so I can get back to work.

Please enjoy this rambling braindump about movies which I hope will start knocking some of the cobwebs off:

I watched a ton of movies in the last three weeks, including a ton of Academy screeners, provided to me by my vast underground network of Big Hollywood Super Players. My thoughts, let me show you them:

I loved everything about Juno, from the casting to the dialog to the photography to the soundtrack (which I bought the moment the credits began to roll) and I was surprised at how much I liked There Will Be Blood. I loved Boogie Nights, but I feel like everything Paul Thomas Anderson has done since then has been one big, "My jerking off! Let me show you it!"  Daniel Day Lewis made this movie for me, and I spent a lot of hazy hours thinking about what a gift it is -- and how much dedication and hard work is required -- to transform an idea and words into a living, breathing character.

The Orphanage was enjoyable, and if you liked The Ring and The Others, I think you'd like it, as well. Maybe it was the drugs, but I felt a step ahead the whole time, so I was forced to just enjoy the photography and MILFiness of Belén Rueda.

I gave up on 3:10 to Yuma after 35 minutes. I felt like I missed the first reel, or something, and didn't know who the characters were, or why I should care about them. Bummer, because I really like westerns.

I thought No Country for Old Men was beautifully shot and brilliantly performed, but it didn't shake the Earth for me like it apparently has for everyone else who's seen it. I thought it ended abruptly, and it wasn't until hours later that I realized, "Oh, they wanted it to be Tommy Lee Jones' story, not Josh Brolin's." I understand the Sheriff is a richer character in the book, and I probably would have
felt more satisfied with the whole thing if the Coen Brothers had included more of his backstory. Bummer, because I really like westerns.

I thought Control was okay, but your enjoyment of the film is going to be directly proportional to how much you love Joy Division, I think. It's not deep enough for casual audiences, and felt a little long to me. I wanted to see more of Ian and Deborah's relationship, and I was surprised that I didn't, since it was based on her book and she was one of the producers. I loved the music, I loved the photography, and I thought it was cool that they shot it in color and processed it down to black and white. The actors sound great as Joy Division, much better than those modern bands who are stealing their sound. She Wants Revenge and Interpol, I'm looking in your direction.

I watched lots of older movies, too: Breach was okay, and I was pleasantly surprised to see Ryan Philippe totally hold his own with Chris Cooper. I'd skip it unless you're a Chris Cooper fan. Or a Laura Linney fan. Which I am. But two MILF comments in one post may give you all the impression that I'm some kind of weirdo, so let's just move on . . .

I tried -- twice -- to watch The Zodiac. I read books about this guy like crazy when I was a teenager (growing up in Richard Ramirez' Nightstalker Los Angeles gave me an insatiable curiosity about serial killers) so I was really looking forward to this movie. I can't point to one factor, but it never grabbed me.

The Last Picture Show goes in my top ten of all time, meaning I'll have to knock something off to make room, but I don't know what. I couldn't help but feel like Lucas tried -- and failed -- to copy it with American Graffiti. It made me want to watch The Grapes of Wrath again.

I watched Chinatown for the first time since I was 19 or 20, and I'm really glad I did. For all the time I spent in my 20s worrying about being in my 30s, I remember something someone told me when I was 29 (paraphrased): "Your 20s are about gathering information and experience, and your 30s are about putting it to use." I still feel like I have a lot to learn, but I feel more sure of who I am -- way more sure of who I am than I did when I was younger -- and I don't know what relevance this rambling tangent had when I started talking about it, but watching Chinatown in my 30s was a profoundly different and much more rewarding experience than it was when I was younger. "Forget it, Jake, it's Chinatown."

The same thing goes for The Natural. I forgot that The Natural really isn't about baseball, and have to admit that "Pick me out a winner, Bobby," nails me in my weepy manbits the same way "Hey, dad . . .  want to have a catch?" does. I would have found this movie overly sentimental and too magical when I was a cynical 24 year-old with a copy of Howl in his pocket. Hell, I probably did. I'm glad I watched it without the baggage of being young and cocksure.

28 Weeks Later didn't do for 28 Days Later what Dawn of the Dead did for Night of the Living Dead, but I like Robert Carlyle and can think of worse things to do with 90 minutes than watch The Infected do their thing.

I'm ashamed to admit that I hadn't seen Spirited Away until this month. I loved every single thing about it, and I think it may edge out Akira in my top 5 Anime of all time. I know, blasphemy, but I responded to it on a level that I never have with Akira. It's similar to the way Blade Runner moves me in ways that Star Wars does not. And we all know how much I love Star Wars. Oh, fucking hell, I guess I should just get this over with: if I had to choose, entirely on their individual merits, and took out the nostalgia, toys, and significance in my childhood, and look at them in a vacuum, Blade Runner resonates much more powerfully with me. I think it's a better film. Hey, maybe I'll watch that Final Ultimate Really We Mean It director's cut in a little bit. I'm supposed to ramp up to normal activity slowly, so maybe I can justify it.

I'm sure I watched other stuff, but it's not coming straight to mind, so I guess it's safe to say that whatever else I saw didn't make much of an impression.

Heh. There was a time when I'd look at all of this, say out loud, "who gives a fuck what you think about movies?" and delete the whole thing because it's not that interesting to anyone but me. Maybe it's residual drugs in my system, or part of that thing I mentioned earlier about being in my mid-30s (yipe), but I needed to write this because thinking about all of it has taken up cycles in my brains that I need for other stuff. So here it is, and if you're reading this, I guess it's safe to assume that you found something worthwhile in it, so at least I haven't wasted your time.

Back in the days when Tony Pierce wasn't spending his time trolling his own commenters and generating controversy for the sake of building page views, he wrote a fantastic post about avoiding blogging burn out, which was something we were all talking about in those days when we were all sort of defining what blogging was and wasn't, making it up as we went along (but not admitting that we were.) I forget exactly what the advice was (and it's all massively awesome advice that should be required reading for everyone -- including Tony, today -- who aspires to do more than talk about their cats with their blog) but it can be distilled down to a couple of things: write what you want to, write what's on your mind, and don't worry about who is reading it. It's such simple and logical advice, but clearly isn't easy to absorb and put into practice, because I need to remind myself about it at least twice a year. I used to worry a lot about wasting people's time with my blog, but now I save that obsessing for my books.

Oh, totally unrelated to movies, but because I'm thinking about it: I bought the remastered Joshua Tree last week, because my original CD, which I bought at Tower Records in 1987, had a scratch across Running To Stand Still right when he sings "Cry without weeping." This scratched copy of Joshua Tree was one of the first CDs I ever bought for myself, and I couldn't bring myself to replace it, so I've been listening to it this way, with the clicks and pops, for at least 15 years. It made me feel a little sad to replace it, like I was letting something go that I wanted or needed to keep around, but I haven't been listening to the physical CD for years, and I figured it was okay to replace the music with a pristine version, while saving the original CD for keeping in The Vault of Memories.

Whew. This is the most I've written in a month, and it is ram-buh-ling. I'm tired, now. I think I'll go for a walk.

A fistful of reviews

While I ramp up for writing more original fiction in 2008, I've been making an effort to read more books and watch more movies. Here's a brief look at some of the things I've come across recently that I think are worth your time and money.

Books

Hammered

This is Elizabeth Bear's first novel, and it kicks off the Jenny Casey trilogy that's continued in Scardown and concluded in Worldwired. It takes place in a dystopian world that was plausible enough to give me chills, and is the first book I've read that I'd admiringly call post-cyberpunk.

Jenny Casey is a cybernetically enhanced former soldier living in post-war Connecticut, dealing with the ghosts of her past. When those ghosts come back to life, they ensnare not only her, but some of her closest friends, as well.

It took me longer than usual to get into the narrative, because the story changes point of view a lot in the beginning, but once I got all the characters straight, I was on board and it was difficult to put down.

This was one of those books where the main character is compelling, but the supporting characters are magnificent. I just loved it, and as soon as I finish Atrocity Archives, I think I'm going to finish the trilogy.

Coraline

Coraline lives in a boring house with uninteresting parents surrounded by strange people. But when she goes through a forbidden door and finds herself trapped on the other side with her Other Mother, her life suddenly becomes very interesting. It's not quite horror, it's not quite fantasy . . . I guess I'd call it a "dark fantasy," sort of the way Neverwhere was a dark fantasy. It's a quick and thoroughly enjoyable read.

I wish this had been written when my kids were still young enough for me to read to them. I have number 238 of the limited Subterranean printing.

After Halloween

I got this book from Daniel Davis when I spent the weekend next to his Steam Crow booth at Phoenix Comicon. It's a children's alphabet book about what the monsters do to make a living after Halloween. ("E is for Ealwatte, a mage of the dead / Now he crafts hats to adorn your bald head.")  It's all rhyming, it's charming and funny, and the illustrations are ridiculously awesome. In a world where everything -- especially children's books and stories -- are so mindnumbingly banal and similar, After Halloween is unique and wonderful. It's another one that made me wish my kids were little enough to enjoy it.

Graphic Novels

WE3

Grant Morrison is with Warren Ellis, Neil Gaiman, and Alan Moore on the list of authors I'll buy anything from without even reading the back cover, so it's weird that I just got around to reading WE3 now. (Actually, I started it when I was working on NUMB3RS, and just finished it on Friday. I got distracted, I guess.)

WE3 is about three domestic animals -- a dog, a cat, and a rabbit -- who are kidnapped by the military and turned into cyborgs to be used as weapons. When the project is going to be terminated and the animals destroyed, they're set free by a well-meaning researcher. Much of the story is about them trying to survive outside of the lab, while they're hunted by their former masters. I found it sad and touching. It's also a story that, I think, only works as a graphic novel, making it pretty unique.

Batman: The Man Who Laughs

A new take on the introduction of The Joker into the Batman universe, this is set right after Batman: Year One, and could be a companion to The Killing Joke. I loved the writing, the shift in narrative between Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne, and the artwork was perfectly unsettling, without being disturbing. I'm a lifelong Batman geek, so it takes a lot to impress me with a Batman story. This impressed the hell out of me.

Fell Volume One: Feral City

Richard Fell is a detective sent over the bridge from a city that feels like New York to a totally fucked up place called Snowtown. In Snowtown, everyone has something to hide . . . including him. It's classic detective stories, filtered through Warren's sublimely twisted lens. I liked it so much, Fell could be the fourth comic to make it onto my single-issue list.

Movies

A Scanner, Darkly

My expectations were really low for this movie, after talking to some friends about it, so I was pleasantly surprised. I thought the acting, music, and animation combined very effectively, and I thought they did a better than usual job of staying true to PKD's story. Admittedly, this isn't saying much, but it shouldn't be misconstrued as a back-handed compliment. I genuinely enjoyed this film.

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters

One of the most engrossing documentaries I've seen in years. On the surface, it's the story of two men trying to achieve the highest score on Donkey Kong, but the story ends up being about much, much more than the quest for a high score on a video game; it's about a group of petty sycophants doing everything they can to protect a cowardly tyrant whose tiny fiefdom is threatened by an honorable man. I lost a lot of respect for Twin Galaxies by the time the film was over. I also wanted to go spend a hundred dollars in an arcade.

Cloverfield

I saw Cloverfield yesterday afternoon, early enough so I could avoid a theater filled with douchebags. I understand that this was a good thing, because people I know who saw it at night with the aforementioned douchebags were so annoyed by them, and so pulled out of the movie by them, it seriously fucked with their ability to enjoy the film.

If you haven't seen it, I recommend it. I gave it 3 out of 5, but only because the first-person shaky camera stuff made me violently seasick, causing me to look away from the screen more frequently than I did with Blair Witch (a movie, by the way, that I enjoyed as much as "meh" can be enjoyed, and which doesn't deserve to be compared to Cloverfield, IMHO.) On story and effectiveness, I give it a 4.6 out of 5but the camera stuff really messed with me, and I suspect it will mess with other viewers, as well.

Assume there will be spoilers in comments, because I'm starting the comments off with my extended commentary on the film, which you should not read if you haven't seen it yet.

The Bad Astronomer (who I owned in a Techonobabbloff yesterday) has some nitpicks and a review that I agreed with pretty much all the way, too.

The Return of MST3K

I was twenty years-old the first time I saw MST3K. I was sitting on the couch with a friend of mine, looking for something to watch on a Sunday morning, when she stopped on some crappy old horror movie.

"What's this?" I said.

"You've never seen this before?"

"No," I said, "That's why I asked 'what's this.'"

"It's a show about this guy who is trapped in space with robots, and is forced to watch horrible movies. So he and the robots talk back to the screen."

It reminded me of this show I first watched on KDOC here in Los Angeles when I was a freshman in high school, called Mad Movies. I became a fan for life in a matter of minutes, and developed a list of favorites just as fast: Manos, the Hands of Fate, Rocketship XM and Lost Continent are a few that come instantly to mind.

MST3K's Joel Hodgson once said, "We don't ask ourselves, 'will anyone get this?' We tell each other, 'the right people will get this.'" I was inspired by that philosophy, and when I wrote sketch comedy or did improv (both pursuits inspired by MST3K and the British Whose Line?) I used it, and I still use it today, even when I'm not writing comedy.

So now that there's some context for how much I love MST3K, you'll understand how excited I was when I saw that most of the original crew has reunited for Cinematic Titanic, which I believe can be safely called The Return of MST3K:

Cinematic Titanic is a feature length movie riffing show and is an artist owned and operated venture created by Joel Hodgson, the creator of the Peabody award-winning Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Cinematic Titanic features the original cast and writers of MST3K, which is Hodgson (Joel Robinson), Trace Beaulieu (Crow), and J. Elvis Weinstein (Tom Servo). Filling out the ensemble is Mary Jo Pehl (Pearl Forrester) and Frank Conniff (TV’s Frank).

While this is exciting to me as a fan, it's also inspiring and validating to me as a creative person who lives on the Long Tail. Instead of waiting for a network to give them the opportunity to bring their show to viewers, they're distributing the show on DVD themselves. Between this and Riff Trax, we Misties have a lot to celebrate these days.
 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some rock climbing to do.

MY PRECIOUS!

I just saw, via Propeller, that Peter Jackson has signed on to produce The Hobbit.

Director Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc said on Tuesday they have agreed to make two movies based on the book "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien, ending months of legal wrangling.

Jackson, the director of the smash hit "Lord of the Rings" movies, and producer Fran Walsh will executive produce both a "Hobbit" movie and a sequel, but no decision has been made about who will direct the films, Bob Shaye and Michael Lynne, co-chairmen and co-CEOs of New Line told Reuters.

The good news is, it's going to take two whole films to contain its awesomeness. The (potential) bad news is, he won't be directing. That's offset by the (potential) good news that it will make its way into theaters before 2011.

King Kong showed that Peter Jackson isn't infallible, but it's clear that he loves and respects Tolkien's work, so I'm sure I'm not the only geek who would be willing to wait until 2011 or 2012 if that's what it takes to get someone who loves it as much as we do behind the camera. I mean, we've waited for decades for this; what's a few more years to get it right?

Can media conglomerates afford to pay the writers?

As someone who hopes to be in the WGA one day, and as a current SAG member (and former member of the Board of Directors) I am in complete and total solidarity with the Writer's Guild. It's quite heartening to me, also,  to see that so many people refuse to be fooled by the lies that the six companies who control all of the media have been trying to spread.

The AMPTP has been successful (and helped by the news media they own) in spreading FUD about the things the writers are asking for. This post at United Hollywood puts some important numbers into perspective:

"But can the corporations really afford to pay you what you're asking for?"

Let's set aside for the moment the issue of what the congloms say in their press releases to us (which is basically "There's no money! Ever! And if there was, we spent it all on other projects that lost money so it's gone! Forever! We're broke! We're having to rent our yachts!") and focus on some hard numbers thoughtfully provided by Jonathan Handel on the Huffington Post yesterday.

He writes an excellent (I think) and even-handed analysis that takes into account the effect pattern bargaining will have in calculating real numbers of what we're asking for, and what it will cost the companies, individually, to pay us.

It comes, by his calculation, to $125 million per conglomerate per year -- if we got every single thing we're asking for.

That, by the way, is less than the $140 million Disney spent to fire Michael Ovitz for 15 months of work.

Also, Carson Daly is still an epic douche.

Also, also:

And finally, a meager contribution from the actor half of me: