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Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Wonder Woman (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
“What first attracted you Dr Mann to the movie with the scantily-clad Amazonians?”
Amazonians deliver! And how. The much anticipated new Wonder Woman movie is with us, and for once the film lives up to the wall-to-wall marketing hype.
With a heavy dose of mythology, Diana is growing up as the cossetted daughter of Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen, “Gladiator”), the Queen of the Amazons, on the hidden paradise island of Themyscira. Trained up as a warrior by Hippolyta’s sister, General Antiope (Robin Wright of “House of Cards”), Diana is clearly something special. Her ego is reinforced by the knowledge that she was made of clay with life breathed into her by the God Zeus. It’s enough to turn a girl’s head!
It’s 1917 and the man-free paradise is shaken up when an American spy by the name of Steve Trevor (Chris Pine, “Star Trek: Beyond“) crash-lands in the waters off Themyscira. (And yes… you didn’t mishear me… this film genuinely features a hero with both the names “Steve” and ‘Trevor”). Prince Eric – no, sorry, wrong film – is saved and awakened on the beach by Diana as the others arrive. “Thank God!”, say the Amazonians. “At last, someone to process the 200 year backlog of washing and ironing”!
But Steve (an “above average specimen”, LOL) is not long for paradise as he needs to return to the war with the results of his spy-work: a chemistry book stolen from the gorgeously deformed Dr Maru (Elena Anaya), gas-developer for the evil General Ludendorff (Danny Huston). Seeing Ludendorff to be her God-like nemesis Ares, Diana returns with Steve to the WW1 battlefields with the intent of killing the God of War and so ending the ‘war to end all wars’.
Much ‘fish out of water’ fun is had with Diana meeting civilised London society, although perhaps this section of the film doesn’t quite live up to its full potential: having ice cream for the first time, without any sign of surprise, all she can come up with is an amusing but rather lame “You must be very proud”.
But where the film really accelerates into awesomeness is when Diana reaches ‘The Front’. She emerges from the trenches like some shimmering vision of hotness, to set male and lesbian hearts a flutter. Its the most memorable trench-exit since the finale of “Black Adder 4”, and the subsequent scenes of Diana single-handedly facing the German guns is for me one of the most compelling and enjoyable scenes in any recent DC or Marvel movie.
Holding all this together is the ex-Israeli army-trainer Gal Gadot in the title role. And man oh man, what a Gal! Statuesque, athletic but also sweet, charming and emotionally fragile she completely owns this role from beginning to end. Gadot made a memorable entry in the otherwise poor “Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice” (#marthagate #neverforget #neverforgive) but nothing prepares you for just how great she is in this outing. In fact, I’ll go as far as saying that this film, although having a UK 12 certificate, is a film of immense danger to heterosexual teenagers of any age (#humor):
All boys will be cast into a lifetime of misery, never able to find a woman that can possibly live up to the impossibly perfect vision of Diana Prince, tearing up the German army with fists and whip!;
All girls WILL BECOME LESBIANS AFTER WATCHING THIS FILM!
Parents: you have been warned! 🙂
Chris Pine – the thinking women’s Chris Pratt – once again proves himself as a talented actor who manages to successfully morph to inhabit the role he plays. Much as he did in the excellent “Hell or High Water“, not once did I equate him to be James Tiberius Kirk after the first 5 minutes.
Effective in supporting roles are David Thewlis (“Harry Potter”) as a ‘helpful’ army bod and an almost unrecognisable Lucy Davis (“The Office”) as Etta, Steve’s comedic secretary. Steve’s rather unlikely sidekicks of Sameer (Said Taghmaoui, “American Hustle“), Charlie (Ewen Bremner, “Trainspotting”) and ‘The Chief’ (Eugene Brave Rock “The Revenant“) all rather fade into the woodwork by comparison.
I saw the film in 3D (“careful now… you could take an eye out with those things”) and very good it was too. Aside from some rather unnecessary Amazonian arrows, its never feels overdone, and elements of it were extremely effective.
Another star of the show is the superb Wonder Woman theme by Hans Zimmer, here rolled out by the film’s composer Rupert Gregson-Williams (“Hacksaw Ridge“). Unfortunately, the rest of the soundtrack is not particularly memorable.
The film shifts into more traditional yawn-worthy ‘superhero finale’ mode in the last twenty minutes, which is a bit of a shame. It’s also really curious that for such a sexually charged film there is an almost complete absence of ‘lurrve’ on show. The one love scene coquettishly fades to a view of the outside window. Was this to protect the film’s family friendly rating (probably) or that the director didn’t want to show her heroine in a remotely submissive position (possibly)? More frustratingly, the morning after there is no mention of it at all! (“Move along, nothing to see here”). I at least wanted some sort of recognition that a human/God liaison had taken place: Steve grimacing a bit when he sits down; or Diana on the blower to Themyscira saying “Yes, you were right Mum. 5 minutes in, and it just snapped clean off!”
I know my friend David Moody (of markanddave vblog fame, and a big DC/Marvel fan) was generally disappointed with the film. Conversely, Amy Andrews from the ever-excellent Oh That Film Blog loved it. I’m with Amy on this one, and greatly enjoyed it as a well-constructed action rollercoaster. The nearly two and a half hours sped by. By the way (and I took one for the team here) there is no “monkey” at the end of the film’s credit to hang on for.
Patty Jenkins (“Monster”) directs and knows the audience she is aiming to please. One can only imagine the empowering impact this film will have on young girls, crossing their wrists to ‘THAT’ music and, in their imagination, casting terrorists into the hell that they should be consigned to. In this week of yet more Isis atrocity in London, Wonder Woman is a role-model we could all stand and salute: “I believe in love” too.
With a heavy dose of mythology, Diana is growing up as the cossetted daughter of Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen, “Gladiator”), the Queen of the Amazons, on the hidden paradise island of Themyscira. Trained up as a warrior by Hippolyta’s sister, General Antiope (Robin Wright of “House of Cards”), Diana is clearly something special. Her ego is reinforced by the knowledge that she was made of clay with life breathed into her by the God Zeus. It’s enough to turn a girl’s head!
It’s 1917 and the man-free paradise is shaken up when an American spy by the name of Steve Trevor (Chris Pine, “Star Trek: Beyond“) crash-lands in the waters off Themyscira. (And yes… you didn’t mishear me… this film genuinely features a hero with both the names “Steve” and ‘Trevor”). Prince Eric – no, sorry, wrong film – is saved and awakened on the beach by Diana as the others arrive. “Thank God!”, say the Amazonians. “At last, someone to process the 200 year backlog of washing and ironing”!
But Steve (an “above average specimen”, LOL) is not long for paradise as he needs to return to the war with the results of his spy-work: a chemistry book stolen from the gorgeously deformed Dr Maru (Elena Anaya), gas-developer for the evil General Ludendorff (Danny Huston). Seeing Ludendorff to be her God-like nemesis Ares, Diana returns with Steve to the WW1 battlefields with the intent of killing the God of War and so ending the ‘war to end all wars’.
Much ‘fish out of water’ fun is had with Diana meeting civilised London society, although perhaps this section of the film doesn’t quite live up to its full potential: having ice cream for the first time, without any sign of surprise, all she can come up with is an amusing but rather lame “You must be very proud”.
But where the film really accelerates into awesomeness is when Diana reaches ‘The Front’. She emerges from the trenches like some shimmering vision of hotness, to set male and lesbian hearts a flutter. Its the most memorable trench-exit since the finale of “Black Adder 4”, and the subsequent scenes of Diana single-handedly facing the German guns is for me one of the most compelling and enjoyable scenes in any recent DC or Marvel movie.
Holding all this together is the ex-Israeli army-trainer Gal Gadot in the title role. And man oh man, what a Gal! Statuesque, athletic but also sweet, charming and emotionally fragile she completely owns this role from beginning to end. Gadot made a memorable entry in the otherwise poor “Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice” (#marthagate #neverforget #neverforgive) but nothing prepares you for just how great she is in this outing. In fact, I’ll go as far as saying that this film, although having a UK 12 certificate, is a film of immense danger to heterosexual teenagers of any age (#humor):
All boys will be cast into a lifetime of misery, never able to find a woman that can possibly live up to the impossibly perfect vision of Diana Prince, tearing up the German army with fists and whip!;
All girls WILL BECOME LESBIANS AFTER WATCHING THIS FILM!
Parents: you have been warned! 🙂
Chris Pine – the thinking women’s Chris Pratt – once again proves himself as a talented actor who manages to successfully morph to inhabit the role he plays. Much as he did in the excellent “Hell or High Water“, not once did I equate him to be James Tiberius Kirk after the first 5 minutes.
Effective in supporting roles are David Thewlis (“Harry Potter”) as a ‘helpful’ army bod and an almost unrecognisable Lucy Davis (“The Office”) as Etta, Steve’s comedic secretary. Steve’s rather unlikely sidekicks of Sameer (Said Taghmaoui, “American Hustle“), Charlie (Ewen Bremner, “Trainspotting”) and ‘The Chief’ (Eugene Brave Rock “The Revenant“) all rather fade into the woodwork by comparison.
I saw the film in 3D (“careful now… you could take an eye out with those things”) and very good it was too. Aside from some rather unnecessary Amazonian arrows, its never feels overdone, and elements of it were extremely effective.
Another star of the show is the superb Wonder Woman theme by Hans Zimmer, here rolled out by the film’s composer Rupert Gregson-Williams (“Hacksaw Ridge“). Unfortunately, the rest of the soundtrack is not particularly memorable.
The film shifts into more traditional yawn-worthy ‘superhero finale’ mode in the last twenty minutes, which is a bit of a shame. It’s also really curious that for such a sexually charged film there is an almost complete absence of ‘lurrve’ on show. The one love scene coquettishly fades to a view of the outside window. Was this to protect the film’s family friendly rating (probably) or that the director didn’t want to show her heroine in a remotely submissive position (possibly)? More frustratingly, the morning after there is no mention of it at all! (“Move along, nothing to see here”). I at least wanted some sort of recognition that a human/God liaison had taken place: Steve grimacing a bit when he sits down; or Diana on the blower to Themyscira saying “Yes, you were right Mum. 5 minutes in, and it just snapped clean off!”
I know my friend David Moody (of markanddave vblog fame, and a big DC/Marvel fan) was generally disappointed with the film. Conversely, Amy Andrews from the ever-excellent Oh That Film Blog loved it. I’m with Amy on this one, and greatly enjoyed it as a well-constructed action rollercoaster. The nearly two and a half hours sped by. By the way (and I took one for the team here) there is no “monkey” at the end of the film’s credit to hang on for.
Patty Jenkins (“Monster”) directs and knows the audience she is aiming to please. One can only imagine the empowering impact this film will have on young girls, crossing their wrists to ‘THAT’ music and, in their imagination, casting terrorists into the hell that they should be consigned to. In this week of yet more Isis atrocity in London, Wonder Woman is a role-model we could all stand and salute: “I believe in love” too.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Sir Apropos of Nothing in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Sir Apropos of Nothing Skewers the Hero’s Journey
Contains spoilers, click to show
Fantasy and satire are two of my favorite genres in any medium, but especially so in books. Satirical fantasy, then, holds a special place on my shelves. I grew up on Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, and desire to imitate him and his style is what led me in middle school to begin writing in earnest, for fun, and for myself rather than just for my teachers and their assignments.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
Hadley (567 KP) rated Ghost Story in Books
May 14, 2019
Great story line (1 more)
Great characters
Don Wanderley is a writer who happens to meet a supernatural being, and this meeting causes his life to be turned upside down in the novel 'Ghost Story.' Wanderley's brother and uncle both die of strange circumstances, leading him to seek how their deaths came to be. What Wanderley finds is that they were both infatuated with two women: Alma Mobley and Ann- Veronica Moore; Mobley just so happens to be Don's ex-fiance'.
Even if it seems so, Wanderley is not the main character of this book, instead, we meet four older gentlemen who have been friends the majority of their lives: John, Lewis, Ricky and Sears. The four have created what they like to call 'the Chowder Society,' where they meet up in suit and tie at one of their houses to tell ghost stories. Sears tells one ghost story that will haunt them the rest of the book about his time as a teacher in a rural town known as Elmira: "Well, one of the most dreadful things in my life happened to me there, or it didn't happen and I imagined it all, but anyhow it scared the pants off me and eventually made it impossible for me to stay on. This is the worst story I know, and I've kept it locked up in my mind for fifty years."
After that story, strange things begin to happen in Milburn; a farmer named Elmer Scales, reports that his sheep have been slaughtered by having their throats slit and completely drained of blood, but there are no footprints nor blood stains where the sheep were killed: " 'Their throats were cut,' Elmer said to his wife. 'What did I tell you? Some crazyman's been out here. And -' his voice rose ' - a crazyman who can fly, because he didn't leave no prints.' "
When the reader finds out that the four life long friends have a dark secret that has seem to come back to haunt them, we witness them being killed off by a supernatural force, one by one. This story brings not only a great cast of characters and amazing story telling, but also twist and turns that are not seen from a mile away, like most paranormal thrillers have today.
The supernatural force readers are introduced to is a shape shifter, who takes on forms from a werewolf to a vampire " When he took off the dark glasses his eyes shone a uniform golden yellow. " But the book is not lacking on ghosts, either : "Then she saw a figure moving around out there and Nettie, who understood more than even her sister credited, fearfully watched it approach the house and barn. She uttered a few choked sounds, but knew that Rea would never hear them. The figure came nearer, hauntingly familiar. Nettie was afraid it was the boy from town Rea talked about - that wild boy in a rage that Rea had named him to police. She trembled, watching the figure come nearer across the field, imagining what life would be like if the boy did anything to Rea; and then squawked in terror and nearly tipped over the wheelchair. The man walking toward the barn was her brother Stringer, wearing the brown shirt he'd had on the day he died: it was covered with blood, just as it had been when they'd put him on the table and wrapped him in blankets, but his arms were whole."
The entire story takes place in the town of Milburn, with a few scenes outside of it, but because of this, there are so many secondary characters introduced that the reader may find themselves back tracking through the book just to remember who all of them are. On top of that, a lot of the characters are so much alike, that description can't even help tell who is who. Even our four main characters have similar descriptions, other than girth, that it takes a couple of chapters for readers to put a face to a name. Only some secondary characters become important enough to remember near the end of the book, this including a teenager named Peter.
'Ghost Story' is among the few paranormal books that can stand on it's own. There are scenes of hallucination that out-do those of the top paranormal writers of today. One of the most memorable scenes is with the character Lewis: "Lewis moved back and forth on the floorboards, willing his friends to return with the farmer's car. He did not want to look at the covered shape on the bed; he went to the window. Through the greasepaper he could see only vague orange light.. He glanced back at the sheet. 'Linda, ' he said miserably. " - the scene quickly changes - "He stood in a metal room, with gray metal walls. One light bulb hung from the ceiling. His wife lay under a sheet on a metal table. Lewis leaned over her body and sobbed. 'I won't bury you in the pond,' he said. 'I'll take you into the rose garden.' He touched his wife's lifeless fingers under the sheet and felt them twitch. He recoiled. "
When the ghost story is finally revealed from the main characters' past, pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together. To not give away too much, here is a portion of that story: " 'She said she was lonely,' Ricky said. 'Said she was sick of this damned town and all the hypocrites in it. She wanted to drink and she wanted to dance, and she didn't care who was shocked. Said this dead little town and all its dead little people could go to hell as far as she was concerned. And if we were men and not little boys, we'd damn the town too.' "
While our main characters are being killed off one by one, the town of Milburn is going through an odd blizzard that seems to put everyone on edge: " People settled down in front of the television and ate pizzas from the freezer and prayed that the power lines would stay up; they avoided one another. If you looked outside and saw your next-door neighbor fighting up his lawn to get to his front door, he looked unearthly, transformed by stress into a wild ragged frontier version of himself: you knew he'd damage anyone who threatened to touch his dwindling store of food. He'd been touched by that savage music you had tried to escape, and if he looked through your Thermopane picture window and saw you his eyes were barely human."
Although 'Ghost Story' was published in 1979, it still has a big impact on the way the paranormal genre is written today. Straub not only makes a convincing story line, but he also makes characters that the reader can actually care about. Even when we find out what has been going on in the small town of Milburn, the reader can still feel a very real threat from the supernatural force within it. 'Ghost Story' is by far the best paranormal thriller I have ever read. I highly recommend this book to anyone who believes that the past can come back to haunt you.
For more reviews by me, please check out my blog at goreandtea.com
Even if it seems so, Wanderley is not the main character of this book, instead, we meet four older gentlemen who have been friends the majority of their lives: John, Lewis, Ricky and Sears. The four have created what they like to call 'the Chowder Society,' where they meet up in suit and tie at one of their houses to tell ghost stories. Sears tells one ghost story that will haunt them the rest of the book about his time as a teacher in a rural town known as Elmira: "Well, one of the most dreadful things in my life happened to me there, or it didn't happen and I imagined it all, but anyhow it scared the pants off me and eventually made it impossible for me to stay on. This is the worst story I know, and I've kept it locked up in my mind for fifty years."
After that story, strange things begin to happen in Milburn; a farmer named Elmer Scales, reports that his sheep have been slaughtered by having their throats slit and completely drained of blood, but there are no footprints nor blood stains where the sheep were killed: " 'Their throats were cut,' Elmer said to his wife. 'What did I tell you? Some crazyman's been out here. And -' his voice rose ' - a crazyman who can fly, because he didn't leave no prints.' "
When the reader finds out that the four life long friends have a dark secret that has seem to come back to haunt them, we witness them being killed off by a supernatural force, one by one. This story brings not only a great cast of characters and amazing story telling, but also twist and turns that are not seen from a mile away, like most paranormal thrillers have today.
The supernatural force readers are introduced to is a shape shifter, who takes on forms from a werewolf to a vampire " When he took off the dark glasses his eyes shone a uniform golden yellow. " But the book is not lacking on ghosts, either : "Then she saw a figure moving around out there and Nettie, who understood more than even her sister credited, fearfully watched it approach the house and barn. She uttered a few choked sounds, but knew that Rea would never hear them. The figure came nearer, hauntingly familiar. Nettie was afraid it was the boy from town Rea talked about - that wild boy in a rage that Rea had named him to police. She trembled, watching the figure come nearer across the field, imagining what life would be like if the boy did anything to Rea; and then squawked in terror and nearly tipped over the wheelchair. The man walking toward the barn was her brother Stringer, wearing the brown shirt he'd had on the day he died: it was covered with blood, just as it had been when they'd put him on the table and wrapped him in blankets, but his arms were whole."
The entire story takes place in the town of Milburn, with a few scenes outside of it, but because of this, there are so many secondary characters introduced that the reader may find themselves back tracking through the book just to remember who all of them are. On top of that, a lot of the characters are so much alike, that description can't even help tell who is who. Even our four main characters have similar descriptions, other than girth, that it takes a couple of chapters for readers to put a face to a name. Only some secondary characters become important enough to remember near the end of the book, this including a teenager named Peter.
'Ghost Story' is among the few paranormal books that can stand on it's own. There are scenes of hallucination that out-do those of the top paranormal writers of today. One of the most memorable scenes is with the character Lewis: "Lewis moved back and forth on the floorboards, willing his friends to return with the farmer's car. He did not want to look at the covered shape on the bed; he went to the window. Through the greasepaper he could see only vague orange light.. He glanced back at the sheet. 'Linda, ' he said miserably. " - the scene quickly changes - "He stood in a metal room, with gray metal walls. One light bulb hung from the ceiling. His wife lay under a sheet on a metal table. Lewis leaned over her body and sobbed. 'I won't bury you in the pond,' he said. 'I'll take you into the rose garden.' He touched his wife's lifeless fingers under the sheet and felt them twitch. He recoiled. "
When the ghost story is finally revealed from the main characters' past, pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together. To not give away too much, here is a portion of that story: " 'She said she was lonely,' Ricky said. 'Said she was sick of this damned town and all the hypocrites in it. She wanted to drink and she wanted to dance, and she didn't care who was shocked. Said this dead little town and all its dead little people could go to hell as far as she was concerned. And if we were men and not little boys, we'd damn the town too.' "
While our main characters are being killed off one by one, the town of Milburn is going through an odd blizzard that seems to put everyone on edge: " People settled down in front of the television and ate pizzas from the freezer and prayed that the power lines would stay up; they avoided one another. If you looked outside and saw your next-door neighbor fighting up his lawn to get to his front door, he looked unearthly, transformed by stress into a wild ragged frontier version of himself: you knew he'd damage anyone who threatened to touch his dwindling store of food. He'd been touched by that savage music you had tried to escape, and if he looked through your Thermopane picture window and saw you his eyes were barely human."
Although 'Ghost Story' was published in 1979, it still has a big impact on the way the paranormal genre is written today. Straub not only makes a convincing story line, but he also makes characters that the reader can actually care about. Even when we find out what has been going on in the small town of Milburn, the reader can still feel a very real threat from the supernatural force within it. 'Ghost Story' is by far the best paranormal thriller I have ever read. I highly recommend this book to anyone who believes that the past can come back to haunt you.
For more reviews by me, please check out my blog at goreandtea.com
The Bandersnatch (199 KP) rated Goodnight Mister Tom in Books
Nov 7, 2019
In September 1939, as Britain stands on the brink of the war, many young children from the cities are evacuated tot he countryside to escape an imminent German bombardment. Willie Beech, a boy from Deptford who is physically and emotionally abused by his mother, arrives at the home of Tom Oakley, a widower in his sixties who lives in the village of Little Weirwold. The boy is thinly clad, underfed and covered with painful bruises, and believes he is full of sin, a result of his upbringing by his mother, a domineering, insane, God-fearing widow.
"Mister Tom", as William christens his new guardian, is reclusive and bad-tempered, and as such is avoided by the community. Willie lives with him as his Mother wants him to live with someone who is either religious or lives next to a church. Though initially distant, he is touched after discovering William's home-life and treats him with kindness and understanding, helping to educate him. Under his care, William begins to thrive, forming a small circle of friends at school among his classmates including fellow-evacuee Zach. He also becomes proficient in drawing and dramatics. As William is changed by Tom, so is Tom transformed by William's presence in his home. It is revealed that Tom lost his wife and baby son to Scarlatina some 40 years previously, and he has become reclusive because of this.
The growing bond between William and Tom is threatened when William's mother requests that the boy returns to her in the city, telling him she is sick. At first, William thinks this will be a good thing, as he can be helpful to his mother. However, his mother is not pleased to learn the details of his time with Tom, feeling that he has not been disciplined properly. While William has been away, she has become pregnant and had a girl, but is neglecting the baby. After a bad reunion, where his mother becomes furious upon learning the details of her son's life with Tom, abhorring his association with the Jewish Zach among other things, she hits William and puts him in the under-stairs cupboard, chains him to the piping. William regains consciousness briefly to find himself in the cupboard – he has been stripped of his clothes, minus his underwear, and his ankle is twisted. He quietly sobs for Tom, before he falls asleep.
Back in Little Weirwold, Tom has a premonition that something is not right with William. Although he has never travelled beyond his immediate locality, he ventures into London and eventually locates William's neighbourhood of Deptford and his home. He persuades a local policeman to break down the door of the apparently empty home, to be greeted with a vile stench. They find William in the closet with the baby, who had also been locked under the stairs by William's mother and has now died. William is malnourished and badly bruised as he had been locked under the stairs for a number of days. William is hospitalised, but whilst there suffers horrific nightmares and is drugged simply to prevent his screams from disturbing other children. Tom is warned that it is likely that William will be taken to a children's home, and, unable to observe William's distress any longer, kidnaps him from the hospital and takes him back to Little Weirwold.
Back with Mister Tom, William is much damaged by his ordeal and is also blaming himself for the death of his sister as he had not been able to provide enough milk to feed her whilst locked away, and becomes very depressed. Later, when his favourite teacher Annie Hartridge has a baby, William is shocked to learn from Zach that a woman cannot conceive a child on her own, and realises that his mother was having a relationship with a man, even though she had previously told him that it was wrong for unmarried couples to live together or have children together (something which society in general had regarded as unacceptable at this time). Tom is traced by the authorities, who have come to tell William that his mother is dead, having committed suicide. They also offer him a place in a children's home, as they've been unable to trace any other relatives who may have been able to take care of him. Luckily the authorities realise that William has already found a good home and allow Tom to adopt him.
Tom, William and Zach then enjoy a holiday at the seaside village of Salmouth, where they stay in the house of a widow whose sons have been sent out to war. Zach then receives news that his father has been injured by a German bomb in London and he hurries home on the next train saying farewell to all his friends. Unfortunately this is the last time they see him. William later learns that Zach has been killed and is grief-stricken for some time, but his grief is later healed by another recluse, Geoffery Sanderton. Geoffery, a young man who had lost a leg during the war and takes William for private art lessons,recognises the signs of grief and gives William a pipe to paint along with a picture of two smiling young men. One of the men is Geoffery and he tells William about the loss of his own best friend, the other man in the picture and the owner of the pipe. This is when William starts to come to terms with Zach's death. Adding to this, Doctor Little, the village doctor, who was Zach's guardian while he was evacuated, is surprised but pleased when William asks to have Zach's bike. Through learning to ride it, William realises that Zach lives on inside him and he will never forget his wonderful companion that Zach was.
In the months following, William grows closer to Carrie, one of his friends. One night, on returning home to Tom (whom he now calls "Dad"), he thinks back on how much he has changed since arriving in Little Weirwold and realises that he is growing.
Goodnight Mr Tom Wiki.
Goodnight Mr Tom was published by Kestrel in 1981 and later on in that same year in the US by Harper and Row. The book won Author Michelle Magorian the annual Guardian Children's fiction prize. Magorian was also a runner up for the Carnegie Medal. The book has been adapted as a Movie, a play and a musical. The most recent theatrical adaption won the Laurence Olivier award for Best Entertainment.
I came across the book when I was 10/11 years old. I needed the book for English at primary school, since we needed to read the book and complete a series of assignments for our teacher. I have in the subsequent years read and re-read the book. The book is rather good and I recommand it for children from the ages of 9/10 upwards. The book is a good representation of what happened during WW2 in a fictional setting. And William and Mr Tom healing each other from what they both experienced (Tom loosing family to Scarlatina and William being abused by his mother). I give the book an 8/10.
"Mister Tom", as William christens his new guardian, is reclusive and bad-tempered, and as such is avoided by the community. Willie lives with him as his Mother wants him to live with someone who is either religious or lives next to a church. Though initially distant, he is touched after discovering William's home-life and treats him with kindness and understanding, helping to educate him. Under his care, William begins to thrive, forming a small circle of friends at school among his classmates including fellow-evacuee Zach. He also becomes proficient in drawing and dramatics. As William is changed by Tom, so is Tom transformed by William's presence in his home. It is revealed that Tom lost his wife and baby son to Scarlatina some 40 years previously, and he has become reclusive because of this.
The growing bond between William and Tom is threatened when William's mother requests that the boy returns to her in the city, telling him she is sick. At first, William thinks this will be a good thing, as he can be helpful to his mother. However, his mother is not pleased to learn the details of his time with Tom, feeling that he has not been disciplined properly. While William has been away, she has become pregnant and had a girl, but is neglecting the baby. After a bad reunion, where his mother becomes furious upon learning the details of her son's life with Tom, abhorring his association with the Jewish Zach among other things, she hits William and puts him in the under-stairs cupboard, chains him to the piping. William regains consciousness briefly to find himself in the cupboard – he has been stripped of his clothes, minus his underwear, and his ankle is twisted. He quietly sobs for Tom, before he falls asleep.
Back in Little Weirwold, Tom has a premonition that something is not right with William. Although he has never travelled beyond his immediate locality, he ventures into London and eventually locates William's neighbourhood of Deptford and his home. He persuades a local policeman to break down the door of the apparently empty home, to be greeted with a vile stench. They find William in the closet with the baby, who had also been locked under the stairs by William's mother and has now died. William is malnourished and badly bruised as he had been locked under the stairs for a number of days. William is hospitalised, but whilst there suffers horrific nightmares and is drugged simply to prevent his screams from disturbing other children. Tom is warned that it is likely that William will be taken to a children's home, and, unable to observe William's distress any longer, kidnaps him from the hospital and takes him back to Little Weirwold.
Back with Mister Tom, William is much damaged by his ordeal and is also blaming himself for the death of his sister as he had not been able to provide enough milk to feed her whilst locked away, and becomes very depressed. Later, when his favourite teacher Annie Hartridge has a baby, William is shocked to learn from Zach that a woman cannot conceive a child on her own, and realises that his mother was having a relationship with a man, even though she had previously told him that it was wrong for unmarried couples to live together or have children together (something which society in general had regarded as unacceptable at this time). Tom is traced by the authorities, who have come to tell William that his mother is dead, having committed suicide. They also offer him a place in a children's home, as they've been unable to trace any other relatives who may have been able to take care of him. Luckily the authorities realise that William has already found a good home and allow Tom to adopt him.
Tom, William and Zach then enjoy a holiday at the seaside village of Salmouth, where they stay in the house of a widow whose sons have been sent out to war. Zach then receives news that his father has been injured by a German bomb in London and he hurries home on the next train saying farewell to all his friends. Unfortunately this is the last time they see him. William later learns that Zach has been killed and is grief-stricken for some time, but his grief is later healed by another recluse, Geoffery Sanderton. Geoffery, a young man who had lost a leg during the war and takes William for private art lessons,recognises the signs of grief and gives William a pipe to paint along with a picture of two smiling young men. One of the men is Geoffery and he tells William about the loss of his own best friend, the other man in the picture and the owner of the pipe. This is when William starts to come to terms with Zach's death. Adding to this, Doctor Little, the village doctor, who was Zach's guardian while he was evacuated, is surprised but pleased when William asks to have Zach's bike. Through learning to ride it, William realises that Zach lives on inside him and he will never forget his wonderful companion that Zach was.
In the months following, William grows closer to Carrie, one of his friends. One night, on returning home to Tom (whom he now calls "Dad"), he thinks back on how much he has changed since arriving in Little Weirwold and realises that he is growing.
Goodnight Mr Tom Wiki.
Goodnight Mr Tom was published by Kestrel in 1981 and later on in that same year in the US by Harper and Row. The book won Author Michelle Magorian the annual Guardian Children's fiction prize. Magorian was also a runner up for the Carnegie Medal. The book has been adapted as a Movie, a play and a musical. The most recent theatrical adaption won the Laurence Olivier award for Best Entertainment.
I came across the book when I was 10/11 years old. I needed the book for English at primary school, since we needed to read the book and complete a series of assignments for our teacher. I have in the subsequent years read and re-read the book. The book is rather good and I recommand it for children from the ages of 9/10 upwards. The book is a good representation of what happened during WW2 in a fictional setting. And William and Mr Tom healing each other from what they both experienced (Tom loosing family to Scarlatina and William being abused by his mother). I give the book an 8/10.
5 Minute Movie Guy (379 KP) rated Tomorrowland (2015) in Movies
Jun 29, 2019
With Tomorrowland's lifeless fantasy world, bland characters, second-rate special effects, forced dialogue, and uninspired story, your future will undoubtedly be better off if it doesn't involve watching this movie.
Disney’s Tomorrowland implores us to imagine a world without limitation. One where nothing is impossible, and all of our wildest dreams can come true. (Sounds very trademark Disney, doesn’t it?) In the movie, that world exists in the form of a secret utopian society that has been built by only the brightest of minds. It is a place that exists free of politics and corruption, where people can push the boundaries of possibility as far as their imaginations will take them. Tomorrowland is a world meant to inspire, to evoke wonder, and to nurture creativity. It’s a stunning shame then, that all I ever felt while watching the movie was sheer boredom. For all of its endless opportunity, Tomorrowland ends up being almost completely uninteresting. With Tomorrowland‘s lifeless fantasy world, bland characters, second-rate special effects, forced dialogue, and uninspired story, your own future will undoubtedly be better off if it doesn’t involve ever watching this movie.
With the star talent of George Clooney, the directorial skill of Brad Bird, and the film’s promising trailers, I must admit that I was caught off guard by Tomorrowland‘s lackluster execution. The greatest compliment I can give the film is that it’s blandly passable, but in no area is it particularly good, engaging, or thought-provoking. For being a film that is about celebrating creativity, it sure is lacking in that regard. Tomorrowland itself feels like a poorly-realized pipe dream. It’s supposed to be this wonderfully ingenious world of innovation, but nothing about it struck me as notably exciting or exceptional. From the surface, it looks like your typical futuristic metropolis, complete with jetpacks and flying cars. Beyond that, I couldn’t really tell you what makes Tomorrowland so special, and I believe that’s largely because we’re given so little access to it. The movie treats us as outsiders to this place, and we spend the majority of the film tagging alongside the two main characters as they try to get in, but we’re never given any sort of rewarding payoff once we get there. The world of Tomorrowland is practically nothing more than a shallow, fantasy world facade.
The movie starts off with an uncomfortably awkward recruitment video recorded by Tomorrowland’s two main characters, Frank Walker (George Clooney) and Casey Newton (Britt Robertson), in which they argue over how they should tell their story. It’s a poor attempt at humor with banter that feels entirely forced. If anything, this overly long introduction should have served as an early indicator that I was about to embark on a two-hour snooze-fest. From there we transition to each of their character’s respective origin stories, and their separate journeys that led them to Tomorrowland.
Frank’s story takes us to the 1964 World’s Fair at Disneyland where as a young boy he’s trying to enter with his faulty jetpack creation. His invention is rejected, but he still manages to catch the attention of a girl named Athena, who gives him a special pin with the Tomorrowland logo. Young Frank is ordered to secretly follow her in the theme park, leading to the “It’s A Small World” ride, where he’s magically transported to Tomorrowland. Here we’re given our first glimpse of this futuristic world, but the entire sequence isn’t nearly as fun or awe-inspiring as it should be. Frank takes to the skies in his newly-repaired jetpack and yet this significant moment somehow winds up feeling surprisingly empty. The movie fails to capture that youthful element of whimsy and excitement that comes from discovery.
Next we learn the much more recent story of Casey, an enthusiastic high school student with a passion for making the world a better place. She’s the daughter of a struggling inventor who gets herself in trouble with the law after trying to sabotage the government’s planned demolition of a NASA launch pad. Once bailed out of jail, Casey finds a mysterious Tomorrowland token among her belongings, and upon touching it, she is magically transported to a wheat field with the distinguished metropolis of Tomorrowland in the distance. However, when trying to reach this futuristic city, she finds that boundaries in the real world inhibit her in this golden future world, even though she cannot see them while holding the token. It’s a novel idea, and one of the movie’s better moments, but if you’ve seen the film’s trailers then you’ve already seen most of how it plays out.
The trailers also spoiled Tomorrowland‘s best, and arguably only good action sequence, in which androids invade Frank’s house in an attempt to capture Casey, who possesses that coveted Tomorrowland token. It’s a well-crafted and exciting moment that demonstrates Brad Bird’s talent, but it’s also an unfortunately rare instance of entertainment in what is otherwise a dull film. As for the aforementioned androids, they’re unbelievably cheesy and lame. These robot villains are sourced from the pinnacle of technological advancement, and yet they’re remarkably derivative and hokey. The most original thing about them is that they blink their eyelids alternatively. That’s some real cutting edge creativity right there! To top it off, Tomorrowland even throws in an android-to-human love story for good measure, because why not? Robots need love too, you guys!
You know what the most troubling thing about Tomorrowland is for me? The fact that Brad Bird was the very first choice to direct Star Wars: Episode 7 and he turned it down to make this movie instead. That is almost incomprehensible to me. Even more so when you consider that Tomorrowland features a comic book store scene that is literally brimming with Star Wars props. It’s a decision that may come back to haunt him, but given how poor this movie is, I’m now actually thanking my lucky Death Stars that he’s not the one making the upcoming Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
In the end, Tomorrowland is a movie that I don’t feel any connection to. I wasn’t captivated by the characters or the performances (not even George Clooney could save this one). The plot was a total bore. The sci-fi elements missed the mark. The visuals were mostly just decent, and tended to look more fake than impressive. The underlying message of hope was weak, and please, don’t even get me started on that cliché “two wolves” story that was needlessly tacked in. Nothing about the movie ever reminded me of the actual Tomorrowland from Disneyland Park, nor did it share its level of creativity. The longer the movie went on, the more I wanted it to end. I can honestly tell you that I have had more enjoyment standing in line for two hours for a ride in Disneyland’s Tomorrowland than I ever had while watching this movie. If this is how dull our ideal future is going to be, then sign me up for a front row ticket to the apocalypse where the future belongs to the mad!
(This review was originally posted at 5mmg.com on 5.26.15.)
With the star talent of George Clooney, the directorial skill of Brad Bird, and the film’s promising trailers, I must admit that I was caught off guard by Tomorrowland‘s lackluster execution. The greatest compliment I can give the film is that it’s blandly passable, but in no area is it particularly good, engaging, or thought-provoking. For being a film that is about celebrating creativity, it sure is lacking in that regard. Tomorrowland itself feels like a poorly-realized pipe dream. It’s supposed to be this wonderfully ingenious world of innovation, but nothing about it struck me as notably exciting or exceptional. From the surface, it looks like your typical futuristic metropolis, complete with jetpacks and flying cars. Beyond that, I couldn’t really tell you what makes Tomorrowland so special, and I believe that’s largely because we’re given so little access to it. The movie treats us as outsiders to this place, and we spend the majority of the film tagging alongside the two main characters as they try to get in, but we’re never given any sort of rewarding payoff once we get there. The world of Tomorrowland is practically nothing more than a shallow, fantasy world facade.
The movie starts off with an uncomfortably awkward recruitment video recorded by Tomorrowland’s two main characters, Frank Walker (George Clooney) and Casey Newton (Britt Robertson), in which they argue over how they should tell their story. It’s a poor attempt at humor with banter that feels entirely forced. If anything, this overly long introduction should have served as an early indicator that I was about to embark on a two-hour snooze-fest. From there we transition to each of their character’s respective origin stories, and their separate journeys that led them to Tomorrowland.
Frank’s story takes us to the 1964 World’s Fair at Disneyland where as a young boy he’s trying to enter with his faulty jetpack creation. His invention is rejected, but he still manages to catch the attention of a girl named Athena, who gives him a special pin with the Tomorrowland logo. Young Frank is ordered to secretly follow her in the theme park, leading to the “It’s A Small World” ride, where he’s magically transported to Tomorrowland. Here we’re given our first glimpse of this futuristic world, but the entire sequence isn’t nearly as fun or awe-inspiring as it should be. Frank takes to the skies in his newly-repaired jetpack and yet this significant moment somehow winds up feeling surprisingly empty. The movie fails to capture that youthful element of whimsy and excitement that comes from discovery.
Next we learn the much more recent story of Casey, an enthusiastic high school student with a passion for making the world a better place. She’s the daughter of a struggling inventor who gets herself in trouble with the law after trying to sabotage the government’s planned demolition of a NASA launch pad. Once bailed out of jail, Casey finds a mysterious Tomorrowland token among her belongings, and upon touching it, she is magically transported to a wheat field with the distinguished metropolis of Tomorrowland in the distance. However, when trying to reach this futuristic city, she finds that boundaries in the real world inhibit her in this golden future world, even though she cannot see them while holding the token. It’s a novel idea, and one of the movie’s better moments, but if you’ve seen the film’s trailers then you’ve already seen most of how it plays out.
The trailers also spoiled Tomorrowland‘s best, and arguably only good action sequence, in which androids invade Frank’s house in an attempt to capture Casey, who possesses that coveted Tomorrowland token. It’s a well-crafted and exciting moment that demonstrates Brad Bird’s talent, but it’s also an unfortunately rare instance of entertainment in what is otherwise a dull film. As for the aforementioned androids, they’re unbelievably cheesy and lame. These robot villains are sourced from the pinnacle of technological advancement, and yet they’re remarkably derivative and hokey. The most original thing about them is that they blink their eyelids alternatively. That’s some real cutting edge creativity right there! To top it off, Tomorrowland even throws in an android-to-human love story for good measure, because why not? Robots need love too, you guys!
You know what the most troubling thing about Tomorrowland is for me? The fact that Brad Bird was the very first choice to direct Star Wars: Episode 7 and he turned it down to make this movie instead. That is almost incomprehensible to me. Even more so when you consider that Tomorrowland features a comic book store scene that is literally brimming with Star Wars props. It’s a decision that may come back to haunt him, but given how poor this movie is, I’m now actually thanking my lucky Death Stars that he’s not the one making the upcoming Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
In the end, Tomorrowland is a movie that I don’t feel any connection to. I wasn’t captivated by the characters or the performances (not even George Clooney could save this one). The plot was a total bore. The sci-fi elements missed the mark. The visuals were mostly just decent, and tended to look more fake than impressive. The underlying message of hope was weak, and please, don’t even get me started on that cliché “two wolves” story that was needlessly tacked in. Nothing about the movie ever reminded me of the actual Tomorrowland from Disneyland Park, nor did it share its level of creativity. The longer the movie went on, the more I wanted it to end. I can honestly tell you that I have had more enjoyment standing in line for two hours for a ride in Disneyland’s Tomorrowland than I ever had while watching this movie. If this is how dull our ideal future is going to be, then sign me up for a front row ticket to the apocalypse where the future belongs to the mad!
(This review was originally posted at 5mmg.com on 5.26.15.)
Kara Skinner (332 KP) rated The Robber Knight in Books
Sep 10, 2019
When you are fighting for the freedom of your people, falling in love with your enemy is not a great idea. Or is it? Ayla has to defend her castle and her people all on her own, with nobody to help her but a dark warrior she hates with all her heart.
Sir Reuben, the dreaded robber knight, has long been Ayla’s deadliest enemy. He has prayed on her and her people ever since her father fell ill, and she swore he would hang for his crimes. Now they are both trapped in her castle as the army of a far greater enemy approaches, and they have only one chance: stand together, or fall.
This book wasn’t bad, honestly. I’m a huge fan of historical fiction, and it had been awhile since I’ve read a medieval love story, so that was a nice change of pace.
The author is a historian, so there are a lot of little things in this book that you don’t see in a lot of other historical romance books. For instance,you can’t pull out arrows because there are often barbs attached to cause fatal wounds if pulled out. I did like learning about all of these facts. But sometimes Thier lets the historian in him gets the best of him, but more on that later.
Lady Ayla was a pretty interesting character. Headstrong and wise for her years, she is very noble and progressive. She has all of the makings for a great leader– with the exception of knowledge. I loved how kind and committed she was to her people and I love the fact that she has some spunk. I mean, if I’m getting robbed in the forest by this random stranger, then I hope I would swear him out too (of course, if I could beat him up and get away, then that’s even better, but Ayla doesn’t have much self-defense skills). But there were many times that she was annoying, like her insistence on being near battles, even before she started treating the sick. And how she tried to manage Sir Isenbard during battle. She had called on him for help because he was an experienced knight, and now she was questioning his commands and strategies in the heat of battle!
Mostly, though, I really did like Ayla. She defines the idea of nobility. With war inevitable, she’s willing to ride personally to the edges of her land to warn her subjects and she is always at the outskirts of battle to help care for the wounded. She invites everyone into the castle for their safety and rations herself as well as the others to conserve food. She’s even willing to corrupt herself to save her people.
Reuben is an excellent character as well, although it did take me awhile to like him. In the beginning he fell a little flat. It’s clear that he used to be a knight but something happened and now he robs people for his own greed. A near-death experience and being saved by Lady Ayla reawakens the humanity in him. And apparently also some depth.
In the beginning of the book he spends a lot of his time admiring his loot and laughing about his victims, who thought they had a right to steal from him. But that’s all he does. We have no real insight into his character or backstory until after he’s in Ayla’s care. Only then are there hints of a bad history where he had been arrested many times, been tortured, and had at one point been a member of respectable society. If it weren’t for the fact that I liked Ayla’a character and the plot so far, I probably would have stopped reading.
Thier is a writer who has really good potential in becoming a great romance writer, especially for historical fiction. The plots have some unique twists that are augmented by his knowledge of history and after Reuben’s character shaped up, he was an excellent love interest. But there is one huge problem with this story: the footnotes.
There are so many footnotes throughout most of the book that I feel like I’m reading a history textbook, which is not good when I usually read romance novels to take a break from homework. Not only are they distracting and unnecessary, but they are also rude and condescending. Sure, sometimes they were useful, like in explaining the references to the seven princes of hell. Another one was a pretty funny anecdote about how one of his readers had actually confirmed that lard burns and that burning arrows work because they had actually done it. There is also a lot of wit throughout the footnotes which is pretty amusing. But most of the time, they were annoying.
For instance, Robert Thier thought it was necessary to include a footnote about how witches were considered bad during medieval times. Seriously? Even if someone failed history, we know that witches are not considered fine, upstanding citizens. Or maybe he thinks all of us have been locked in our rooms with no books, internet or television for our entire lives and for the month of October we all miraculously fell into a coma so we couldn’t see the giant blow-up witch in the neighbor’s yard. And then we’d all wake up singing Christmas carols after the month long coma without a care in the world because this happens every year so we don’t know what a witch is. (I’m developing a conspiracy theory about how these strange comas was caused by witchcraft.)
Maybe Thier assumed that instead of us thinking Reuben was scared of witches when he wondered if Ayla was one, we just thought he was commenting on how much Ayla looked like Sandra Bullock.
And one of the footnotes was just plain offensive. Here is the line of text that the footnote is attached to: “Heel! Abominable villain! You dare defy me?” (page 74)
Now, here’s the footnote: “Sorry to disappoint the ladies, but this doesn’t refer to high heels. It is a medieval term for a very nasty person.”
Excuse me? Did you just assume that I thought it meant high heels and that would make me excited? What world do you live in?
Apparently he thinks “the ladies” are so dumb that we are incapable of taking context clues and we immediately think everything relates back to fashion. Maybe I didn’t know it meant “very nasty person”, but it’s pretty clear it’s a swear or insult of sometime, not a freaking Jimmy Choo. Does he just imagine us thinking high heel every time we hear the word?
“She broke his nose with the heel of her hand.” Oh. High heel!
“Heel, fido! I said heel!” Oh. High heel!
“It will take one or two days for your cut to heal.” Oh. High heel! (Because if he thinks we don’t understand the difference between uncomfortable footwear and an insult, then he probably thinks we can’t spell, either).
But hey, at least Robert Thier thinks women can memorize stuff, because the footnote links stop as the vocabulary is repeated instead of new terms being introduced.
Aside from the footnotes, I really do like this book, and I can’t wait to read the second part of it, which I’ll read soon. Thier still has a long way to go, but I think after he has more experience, he’ll write some great books.
Sir Reuben, the dreaded robber knight, has long been Ayla’s deadliest enemy. He has prayed on her and her people ever since her father fell ill, and she swore he would hang for his crimes. Now they are both trapped in her castle as the army of a far greater enemy approaches, and they have only one chance: stand together, or fall.
This book wasn’t bad, honestly. I’m a huge fan of historical fiction, and it had been awhile since I’ve read a medieval love story, so that was a nice change of pace.
The author is a historian, so there are a lot of little things in this book that you don’t see in a lot of other historical romance books. For instance,you can’t pull out arrows because there are often barbs attached to cause fatal wounds if pulled out. I did like learning about all of these facts. But sometimes Thier lets the historian in him gets the best of him, but more on that later.
Lady Ayla was a pretty interesting character. Headstrong and wise for her years, she is very noble and progressive. She has all of the makings for a great leader– with the exception of knowledge. I loved how kind and committed she was to her people and I love the fact that she has some spunk. I mean, if I’m getting robbed in the forest by this random stranger, then I hope I would swear him out too (of course, if I could beat him up and get away, then that’s even better, but Ayla doesn’t have much self-defense skills). But there were many times that she was annoying, like her insistence on being near battles, even before she started treating the sick. And how she tried to manage Sir Isenbard during battle. She had called on him for help because he was an experienced knight, and now she was questioning his commands and strategies in the heat of battle!
Mostly, though, I really did like Ayla. She defines the idea of nobility. With war inevitable, she’s willing to ride personally to the edges of her land to warn her subjects and she is always at the outskirts of battle to help care for the wounded. She invites everyone into the castle for their safety and rations herself as well as the others to conserve food. She’s even willing to corrupt herself to save her people.
Reuben is an excellent character as well, although it did take me awhile to like him. In the beginning he fell a little flat. It’s clear that he used to be a knight but something happened and now he robs people for his own greed. A near-death experience and being saved by Lady Ayla reawakens the humanity in him. And apparently also some depth.
In the beginning of the book he spends a lot of his time admiring his loot and laughing about his victims, who thought they had a right to steal from him. But that’s all he does. We have no real insight into his character or backstory until after he’s in Ayla’s care. Only then are there hints of a bad history where he had been arrested many times, been tortured, and had at one point been a member of respectable society. If it weren’t for the fact that I liked Ayla’a character and the plot so far, I probably would have stopped reading.
Thier is a writer who has really good potential in becoming a great romance writer, especially for historical fiction. The plots have some unique twists that are augmented by his knowledge of history and after Reuben’s character shaped up, he was an excellent love interest. But there is one huge problem with this story: the footnotes.
There are so many footnotes throughout most of the book that I feel like I’m reading a history textbook, which is not good when I usually read romance novels to take a break from homework. Not only are they distracting and unnecessary, but they are also rude and condescending. Sure, sometimes they were useful, like in explaining the references to the seven princes of hell. Another one was a pretty funny anecdote about how one of his readers had actually confirmed that lard burns and that burning arrows work because they had actually done it. There is also a lot of wit throughout the footnotes which is pretty amusing. But most of the time, they were annoying.
For instance, Robert Thier thought it was necessary to include a footnote about how witches were considered bad during medieval times. Seriously? Even if someone failed history, we know that witches are not considered fine, upstanding citizens. Or maybe he thinks all of us have been locked in our rooms with no books, internet or television for our entire lives and for the month of October we all miraculously fell into a coma so we couldn’t see the giant blow-up witch in the neighbor’s yard. And then we’d all wake up singing Christmas carols after the month long coma without a care in the world because this happens every year so we don’t know what a witch is. (I’m developing a conspiracy theory about how these strange comas was caused by witchcraft.)
Maybe Thier assumed that instead of us thinking Reuben was scared of witches when he wondered if Ayla was one, we just thought he was commenting on how much Ayla looked like Sandra Bullock.
And one of the footnotes was just plain offensive. Here is the line of text that the footnote is attached to: “Heel! Abominable villain! You dare defy me?” (page 74)
Now, here’s the footnote: “Sorry to disappoint the ladies, but this doesn’t refer to high heels. It is a medieval term for a very nasty person.”
Excuse me? Did you just assume that I thought it meant high heels and that would make me excited? What world do you live in?
Apparently he thinks “the ladies” are so dumb that we are incapable of taking context clues and we immediately think everything relates back to fashion. Maybe I didn’t know it meant “very nasty person”, but it’s pretty clear it’s a swear or insult of sometime, not a freaking Jimmy Choo. Does he just imagine us thinking high heel every time we hear the word?
“She broke his nose with the heel of her hand.” Oh. High heel!
“Heel, fido! I said heel!” Oh. High heel!
“It will take one or two days for your cut to heal.” Oh. High heel! (Because if he thinks we don’t understand the difference between uncomfortable footwear and an insult, then he probably thinks we can’t spell, either).
But hey, at least Robert Thier thinks women can memorize stuff, because the footnote links stop as the vocabulary is repeated instead of new terms being introduced.
Aside from the footnotes, I really do like this book, and I can’t wait to read the second part of it, which I’ll read soon. Thier still has a long way to go, but I think after he has more experience, he’ll write some great books.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated If Beale Street Could Talk (2018) in Movies
Sep 28, 2021
Love and Rage against the machine.
The baby asked,
‘Is there not one righteous among them?”
― James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk
Beale Street refers to the jumpin’ heart of Memphis where Louis Armstrong was born. As explained in text from Baldwin’s source book (requiring a speed read!) it’s used as a metaphor for the birthplace of every black person in America. (“Every black person in America was born on Beale Street“). But the story is set in Harlem, New York, and with this intellectual stretch, before I even get past the title, I am immediately reaching for the “P-word”, of which more later.
The Plot
Tish (KiKi Layne) is 19 and in love with her lifelong friend ‘Fonny’ (Stephan James). So much in love in fact (and so careless) that Tish is now pregnant with his child. Tish must break this news to both families herself, since Fonny is inside awaiting trial for a vicious rape that he claims he didn’t commit. Tish and their joint families are trying to help, but can Fonny be released in time to see the birth of his child? Or are the institutions so set against him that release is impossible and death row might await?
Interwoven with Love and Anger
At its heart, this film portrays a truly beautiful love story. Tish and Fonny (both adorably played by the young leads) are friends becoming more than friends. We see their emerging love through flashback scenes. Some of these, particularly one on a metro train, are exquisitely done; long gazes into eyes, starting as one thing and ending as another.
In another scene, Fonny takes Tish’s virginity, and it’s done with style, taste and finesse. For younger teens this should be compulsory viewing as an antidote to all the horrible porn they are seeing on the internet: THIS is what sex, based on a foundation of true love, is all about. (The film is UK15 rated for “infrequent very strong language, strong sex” – I actually agree with the rating for the language (and actually I think an act of marital violence should also have also been referenced)…. but not for the sex, which should be 12A).
It’s a love story then? Well, yes, but offset against that, it’s a very angry film, seething with rage about how the police force and the justice system is set ‘against the black man’. Director Barry Jenkins (of – eventual – Oscar winner “Moonlight” fame) has a message to impart and he is intent on imparting it.
A great ensemble performance
The film didn’t get a SAG nomination for the ensemble cast, but it almost feels that they missed out here. As well as the two young leads being spectacular, the whole of the rest of the cast really gel well together, particularly the respective parents: Colman Domingo (“Selma“) as Tish’s father Joseph; Regina King as Tish’s mother Sharon; Michael Beach (“Patriots Day“) as Fonny’s father Frank and Aunjanue Ellis as his bible-bashing mother. A dramatic scene where they all collectively hear the news about the pregnancy is both comical and shocking in equal measure.
Poor sound mixing
If this film gets an Oscar nomination for sound, I’ll frankly be cross! There is significant use of sonorous, bass-heavy music and effects (including a lovely cello theme by Nicholas Britell) – all very effective; there is a lot of earnest and quietly spoken dialogue between the characters – also moody and effective. Unfortunately the two are mixed together in some scenes and frankly I couldn’t make out what was being said. Most frustrating.
In addition, there is voiceover narration from Tish (if you follow my blog regularly you KNOW what I think about that!). Actually, this isn’t as overly intrusive as in films like “The Hate U Give“, but it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin! It’s a bit like that effect you get with headphones where the plug isn’t quite in the socket, and everything sounds way off and tinny. When combined with Layne’s accent the effect, again, made the dialogue difficult to comprehend.
The c-word and the n-word
There’s a degree of bad language in the film, albeit mild in comparison to “The Favourite“! Tish’s sister (Teyonah Parris) uses the c-word in one very funny dissing of Fonny’s ‘up-themselves’ sisters (Ebony Obsidian and Dominique Thorne). But the n-word is used repeatedly during the film, and that I can never get used to. I ‘get it’ (in the sense that I understand the perception) that this is a word that ‘only black people can use between themselves’. But this just feels elitist and wrong to me. At a time when Viggo Mortensen gets crucified for using it once (while being descriptive and in-context) during a press junket for “Green Book“, I just feel that if a word is taboo it should be taboo, period.
The p-word
My p-word here is “pretentious”. Barry Jenkins clearly feels he has something to prove after the success of “Moonlight“, and there are certainly moments of directorial brilliance in the film. As previously mentioned, the sex scene is one of the best I’ve seen in a long while. Also beautifully done are a birthing scene and two confrontational scenes in Puerto Rico. But there are also moments that seem to be staged, artificial and too ‘arty’ for their own good. Any hidden meaning behind them completely passed me by. (Examples are Sharon’s wig scene and a pan around Fonny’s wood sculpture). It all seems to be “trying too hard”.
Hate for the police is also writ large on the film, with every discriminatory police officer in the whole of the US embodied in the wicked sneering face of the police office Bell (Ed Skrein).
A platform that should be used for more than ranting
This is a film written and directed by an American black man (Jenkins) and largely fully cast with American black people. And I’m a white Englishman commenting on it. I’m clearly unqualified to pass judgement on how black America really feels about things! But comment I will from this fug of ignorance.
It feels to me that the “Black Lives Movement” has given, at long last, black film-makers like Jenkins a platform in cinema to present from. This is a great thing. But I’m sensing that at the moment the tone of the output from that platform (such as this film) seems to me heavily tinged with anger: a scream of frustration about the system and racial injustice over the years. It’s the film-makers right to make films about subjects dear to them. And I’m sure this summer we’ll sadly again see atrocities as previously seen in the likes of Ferguson and Dallas, fuelling the fire of hate. But I would personally really like to see someone like Jenkins use his undoubted talents to make a more uplifting film: a film reflecting the more positive strives that are happening in society, allowing for people of all races and all sexual orientations to make their way in business (not drug-running or crime!) and/or life in general. Those good news stories – the positive side of race relations – are out there and my view is that someone like Barry Jenkins should be telling them.
Final thoughts
I wasn’t as much of a fan of “Moonlight” as the Academy, and this film also left me conflicted. The film is well-made and the cast is very engaging. It also has a love story at its heart that is moody but well-done. Overall though the movie felt over-engineered and a little pretentious, and that knocked it down a few pegs for me.
‘Is there not one righteous among them?”
― James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk
Beale Street refers to the jumpin’ heart of Memphis where Louis Armstrong was born. As explained in text from Baldwin’s source book (requiring a speed read!) it’s used as a metaphor for the birthplace of every black person in America. (“Every black person in America was born on Beale Street“). But the story is set in Harlem, New York, and with this intellectual stretch, before I even get past the title, I am immediately reaching for the “P-word”, of which more later.
The Plot
Tish (KiKi Layne) is 19 and in love with her lifelong friend ‘Fonny’ (Stephan James). So much in love in fact (and so careless) that Tish is now pregnant with his child. Tish must break this news to both families herself, since Fonny is inside awaiting trial for a vicious rape that he claims he didn’t commit. Tish and their joint families are trying to help, but can Fonny be released in time to see the birth of his child? Or are the institutions so set against him that release is impossible and death row might await?
Interwoven with Love and Anger
At its heart, this film portrays a truly beautiful love story. Tish and Fonny (both adorably played by the young leads) are friends becoming more than friends. We see their emerging love through flashback scenes. Some of these, particularly one on a metro train, are exquisitely done; long gazes into eyes, starting as one thing and ending as another.
In another scene, Fonny takes Tish’s virginity, and it’s done with style, taste and finesse. For younger teens this should be compulsory viewing as an antidote to all the horrible porn they are seeing on the internet: THIS is what sex, based on a foundation of true love, is all about. (The film is UK15 rated for “infrequent very strong language, strong sex” – I actually agree with the rating for the language (and actually I think an act of marital violence should also have also been referenced)…. but not for the sex, which should be 12A).
It’s a love story then? Well, yes, but offset against that, it’s a very angry film, seething with rage about how the police force and the justice system is set ‘against the black man’. Director Barry Jenkins (of – eventual – Oscar winner “Moonlight” fame) has a message to impart and he is intent on imparting it.
A great ensemble performance
The film didn’t get a SAG nomination for the ensemble cast, but it almost feels that they missed out here. As well as the two young leads being spectacular, the whole of the rest of the cast really gel well together, particularly the respective parents: Colman Domingo (“Selma“) as Tish’s father Joseph; Regina King as Tish’s mother Sharon; Michael Beach (“Patriots Day“) as Fonny’s father Frank and Aunjanue Ellis as his bible-bashing mother. A dramatic scene where they all collectively hear the news about the pregnancy is both comical and shocking in equal measure.
Poor sound mixing
If this film gets an Oscar nomination for sound, I’ll frankly be cross! There is significant use of sonorous, bass-heavy music and effects (including a lovely cello theme by Nicholas Britell) – all very effective; there is a lot of earnest and quietly spoken dialogue between the characters – also moody and effective. Unfortunately the two are mixed together in some scenes and frankly I couldn’t make out what was being said. Most frustrating.
In addition, there is voiceover narration from Tish (if you follow my blog regularly you KNOW what I think about that!). Actually, this isn’t as overly intrusive as in films like “The Hate U Give“, but it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin! It’s a bit like that effect you get with headphones where the plug isn’t quite in the socket, and everything sounds way off and tinny. When combined with Layne’s accent the effect, again, made the dialogue difficult to comprehend.
The c-word and the n-word
There’s a degree of bad language in the film, albeit mild in comparison to “The Favourite“! Tish’s sister (Teyonah Parris) uses the c-word in one very funny dissing of Fonny’s ‘up-themselves’ sisters (Ebony Obsidian and Dominique Thorne). But the n-word is used repeatedly during the film, and that I can never get used to. I ‘get it’ (in the sense that I understand the perception) that this is a word that ‘only black people can use between themselves’. But this just feels elitist and wrong to me. At a time when Viggo Mortensen gets crucified for using it once (while being descriptive and in-context) during a press junket for “Green Book“, I just feel that if a word is taboo it should be taboo, period.
The p-word
My p-word here is “pretentious”. Barry Jenkins clearly feels he has something to prove after the success of “Moonlight“, and there are certainly moments of directorial brilliance in the film. As previously mentioned, the sex scene is one of the best I’ve seen in a long while. Also beautifully done are a birthing scene and two confrontational scenes in Puerto Rico. But there are also moments that seem to be staged, artificial and too ‘arty’ for their own good. Any hidden meaning behind them completely passed me by. (Examples are Sharon’s wig scene and a pan around Fonny’s wood sculpture). It all seems to be “trying too hard”.
Hate for the police is also writ large on the film, with every discriminatory police officer in the whole of the US embodied in the wicked sneering face of the police office Bell (Ed Skrein).
A platform that should be used for more than ranting
This is a film written and directed by an American black man (Jenkins) and largely fully cast with American black people. And I’m a white Englishman commenting on it. I’m clearly unqualified to pass judgement on how black America really feels about things! But comment I will from this fug of ignorance.
It feels to me that the “Black Lives Movement” has given, at long last, black film-makers like Jenkins a platform in cinema to present from. This is a great thing. But I’m sensing that at the moment the tone of the output from that platform (such as this film) seems to me heavily tinged with anger: a scream of frustration about the system and racial injustice over the years. It’s the film-makers right to make films about subjects dear to them. And I’m sure this summer we’ll sadly again see atrocities as previously seen in the likes of Ferguson and Dallas, fuelling the fire of hate. But I would personally really like to see someone like Jenkins use his undoubted talents to make a more uplifting film: a film reflecting the more positive strives that are happening in society, allowing for people of all races and all sexual orientations to make their way in business (not drug-running or crime!) and/or life in general. Those good news stories – the positive side of race relations – are out there and my view is that someone like Barry Jenkins should be telling them.
Final thoughts
I wasn’t as much of a fan of “Moonlight” as the Academy, and this film also left me conflicted. The film is well-made and the cast is very engaging. It also has a love story at its heart that is moody but well-done. Overall though the movie felt over-engineered and a little pretentious, and that knocked it down a few pegs for me.
James P. Sumner (65 KP) rated Joker (2019) in Movies
Oct 7, 2019
An unapologetic masterpiece.
I wasn't sure what to expect going into this film. I'm a huge comic book fan, so the controversy and scepticism surrounding this movie, as well as the fact it's based within an established story world, had me doubting how it would work and how good the execution of it would be.
I certainly didn't expect the film I saw.
The basis for this movie is simple and effective: Arthur Fleck (played with a career-defining performance by Joaquin Phoenix) is a mentally unstable and depressed wannabe stand-up comedian working as a clown in a 1980's Gotham City. The movie is set against a backdrop of civil unrest, worker strikes and city-wide poverty, with each being exaggerated to highlight both the severity of each one for the purposes of the film, but also to shine a spotlight on how tough the real world was back then.
A potentially fatal encounter on a late-night subway acts as a catalyst for Fleck, who is shown throughout the first 20 minutes to be a man living on a knife's edge - balancing his own pitiful existence with the way society believes he should act. You get the sense that it would take nothing more than a gentle push to send him one way or the other. The subway was that push.
In a city that very much reflects the character's state of mind, this served to push more than just Arthur Fleck over the edge. Because he happened to be dressed as a clown at the time, and because the *cough* victims *cough* worked for Wayne Enterprises (ran by Thomas Wayne himself), it's seen by many as a vigilante act - someone standing up to the rich elite. This sparks outrage and rioting across the city. The idea of a man dressed as a clown standing up for the little guy becomes the poster child for a civil movement, much in the styling of "V For Vendetta (2005)".
The more Arthur Fleck struggles personally, the worse the streets of Gotham seem to get, as if society's increasing tension and unrest is somehow linked to his own state of mind. He finally realises what he has inadvertently created and begins to transform himself into the vigilante icon people already believe him to be.
Despite the slow pace of the movie, it never seems to drag. The story of Fleck's inevitable descent unfolds patiently, showing you exactly what it wants you to see, when it wants you to see it. It's a very bold and confident step for a movie which would've known how controversial it was going to be before it was even released.
The style of the film is extremely clever. The soundtrack is little more than a low-frequency hum, which plays almost constantly throughout. The camerawork is also exceptional. In every shot of Arthur Fleck, the camera centres on him before very slowly closing in on him. It's subtle, perhaps only a few millimetres per shot, but it's noticeable enough that you feel yourself being pulled in, being legitimately gripped by what you're watching. This contributes to what is, overall, a claustrophobic and sometimes unnerving experience.
There has been initial controversy about the film, with reports of people leaving the cinema during the screening for varying reasons. You see this from time to time, and the cynic in me thinks this is rarely more than clever marketing tactics. And then you see the comments from people who say they were disgusted or sickened or disturbed or whatever. I usually think it's a load of rubbish. That people are just saying that for attention. I don't honestly believe people who are that easily offended by a movie would choose to see something that is clearly going to show you all the things you don't like.
However, with "Joker (2019)", I can actually understand it. This is a truly disturbing film. Not for the violence, which has been the subject of much debate. There's actually very little violence in the movie, but when it's there, it's pretty graphic, admittedly. But honestly, it's not anywhere near as bad as a lot of things you see nowadays. No, it's disturbing because of how believable Arthur Fleck is. Seeing how unstable he is. Seeing how easy he can choose to do terrible things. It's... uncomfortable to watch at times, but only because it's so well done, so well written, you hate yourself for sympathising with him.
If I had to draw comparisons for this movie, I would have to say it's more subtle than "Watchmen (2009)", it's grittier and darker than "Taxi Driver (1976)" or "Fight Club (1999)" and much more uncompromising and unapologetic than "Natural Born Killers (1994)". It is truly a modern-day masterpiece. There are two major plot twists, both occurring in the second act, which really highlight the genius behind the screenplay. This movie is written perfectly, and executed the same way on-screen by Phoenix, who draws from both Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger to create this unique take on the character which more than holds its own.
Now, before I summarise, we do need to address the whole... y'know... Batman thing. This is the Joker's origin story, after all.
So, first thing's first: this isn't a comic book movie. Not by a long way. This belongs in the same conversation as Goodfellas, not Guardians of the Galaxy. Director Todd Phillips has even stated that this is simply a stand-alone movie telling a story that needed to be told. Yes, it has references to the DC comic universe (which I will omit here for fear of venturing into spolier territory), but it's unlikely to ever cross over with DC's attempt to mimic the MCU.
The nods to the comics are infrequent but clever, touching on themes and events we already know, and in some cases, re-writing them entirely - which definitely will draw controversy with the hardcore comic fans. For example, I did question why they used the civil unrest subplot and backdrop to essentially try and make Wayne Enterprises the villain of the story, but like it or not, it was necessary and it worked like a charm.
I don't know if this was intentional or not, but there was one scene in particular towards the end of the movie where the Joker (as he is now) is riding in the back of a car with his head leaning against the window. The camera was on the wing mirror, focused on his face, and almost frame-for-frame it reminded me of the iconic scene in "The Dark Knight (2008)" where Heath Ledger's Joker is driving with his head out of the window. I'd like to think this was a gracious tribute to the performance of this character that will never be topped.
For a film that breaks the conventions of story-telling by having no real build-up or climactic ending, I have to say I can't remember a time when I was so blown away, so moved, and so affected by a movie. As close to perfect as you'll see this year.
10/10
A quick side note:
The show "13 Reasons Why" has a disclaimer at the beginning of each series from the cast that essentially warns viewers that, due to the sensitive nature of the content, it's inadvisable to watch it if you're struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts. I genuinely think this film should carry a similar notice. It's a dark, grim, unrelenting journey into one man's depressive life. While I won't ever believe listening to Marilyn Manson can make you want to shoot schoolchildren, I do think that if someone is struggling with suicidal thoughts or depression, this movie probably isn't for them. The story focuses on the media glorifying the terrible acts of someone who is mentally unstable. Yes, it's a movie. It's not real. But for someone in a very bad place themselves, this probably isn't the kind of thing you need to, or should, watch.
I certainly didn't expect the film I saw.
The basis for this movie is simple and effective: Arthur Fleck (played with a career-defining performance by Joaquin Phoenix) is a mentally unstable and depressed wannabe stand-up comedian working as a clown in a 1980's Gotham City. The movie is set against a backdrop of civil unrest, worker strikes and city-wide poverty, with each being exaggerated to highlight both the severity of each one for the purposes of the film, but also to shine a spotlight on how tough the real world was back then.
A potentially fatal encounter on a late-night subway acts as a catalyst for Fleck, who is shown throughout the first 20 minutes to be a man living on a knife's edge - balancing his own pitiful existence with the way society believes he should act. You get the sense that it would take nothing more than a gentle push to send him one way or the other. The subway was that push.
In a city that very much reflects the character's state of mind, this served to push more than just Arthur Fleck over the edge. Because he happened to be dressed as a clown at the time, and because the *cough* victims *cough* worked for Wayne Enterprises (ran by Thomas Wayne himself), it's seen by many as a vigilante act - someone standing up to the rich elite. This sparks outrage and rioting across the city. The idea of a man dressed as a clown standing up for the little guy becomes the poster child for a civil movement, much in the styling of "V For Vendetta (2005)".
The more Arthur Fleck struggles personally, the worse the streets of Gotham seem to get, as if society's increasing tension and unrest is somehow linked to his own state of mind. He finally realises what he has inadvertently created and begins to transform himself into the vigilante icon people already believe him to be.
Despite the slow pace of the movie, it never seems to drag. The story of Fleck's inevitable descent unfolds patiently, showing you exactly what it wants you to see, when it wants you to see it. It's a very bold and confident step for a movie which would've known how controversial it was going to be before it was even released.
The style of the film is extremely clever. The soundtrack is little more than a low-frequency hum, which plays almost constantly throughout. The camerawork is also exceptional. In every shot of Arthur Fleck, the camera centres on him before very slowly closing in on him. It's subtle, perhaps only a few millimetres per shot, but it's noticeable enough that you feel yourself being pulled in, being legitimately gripped by what you're watching. This contributes to what is, overall, a claustrophobic and sometimes unnerving experience.
There has been initial controversy about the film, with reports of people leaving the cinema during the screening for varying reasons. You see this from time to time, and the cynic in me thinks this is rarely more than clever marketing tactics. And then you see the comments from people who say they were disgusted or sickened or disturbed or whatever. I usually think it's a load of rubbish. That people are just saying that for attention. I don't honestly believe people who are that easily offended by a movie would choose to see something that is clearly going to show you all the things you don't like.
However, with "Joker (2019)", I can actually understand it. This is a truly disturbing film. Not for the violence, which has been the subject of much debate. There's actually very little violence in the movie, but when it's there, it's pretty graphic, admittedly. But honestly, it's not anywhere near as bad as a lot of things you see nowadays. No, it's disturbing because of how believable Arthur Fleck is. Seeing how unstable he is. Seeing how easy he can choose to do terrible things. It's... uncomfortable to watch at times, but only because it's so well done, so well written, you hate yourself for sympathising with him.
If I had to draw comparisons for this movie, I would have to say it's more subtle than "Watchmen (2009)", it's grittier and darker than "Taxi Driver (1976)" or "Fight Club (1999)" and much more uncompromising and unapologetic than "Natural Born Killers (1994)". It is truly a modern-day masterpiece. There are two major plot twists, both occurring in the second act, which really highlight the genius behind the screenplay. This movie is written perfectly, and executed the same way on-screen by Phoenix, who draws from both Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger to create this unique take on the character which more than holds its own.
Now, before I summarise, we do need to address the whole... y'know... Batman thing. This is the Joker's origin story, after all.
So, first thing's first: this isn't a comic book movie. Not by a long way. This belongs in the same conversation as Goodfellas, not Guardians of the Galaxy. Director Todd Phillips has even stated that this is simply a stand-alone movie telling a story that needed to be told. Yes, it has references to the DC comic universe (which I will omit here for fear of venturing into spolier territory), but it's unlikely to ever cross over with DC's attempt to mimic the MCU.
The nods to the comics are infrequent but clever, touching on themes and events we already know, and in some cases, re-writing them entirely - which definitely will draw controversy with the hardcore comic fans. For example, I did question why they used the civil unrest subplot and backdrop to essentially try and make Wayne Enterprises the villain of the story, but like it or not, it was necessary and it worked like a charm.
I don't know if this was intentional or not, but there was one scene in particular towards the end of the movie where the Joker (as he is now) is riding in the back of a car with his head leaning against the window. The camera was on the wing mirror, focused on his face, and almost frame-for-frame it reminded me of the iconic scene in "The Dark Knight (2008)" where Heath Ledger's Joker is driving with his head out of the window. I'd like to think this was a gracious tribute to the performance of this character that will never be topped.
For a film that breaks the conventions of story-telling by having no real build-up or climactic ending, I have to say I can't remember a time when I was so blown away, so moved, and so affected by a movie. As close to perfect as you'll see this year.
10/10
A quick side note:
The show "13 Reasons Why" has a disclaimer at the beginning of each series from the cast that essentially warns viewers that, due to the sensitive nature of the content, it's inadvisable to watch it if you're struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts. I genuinely think this film should carry a similar notice. It's a dark, grim, unrelenting journey into one man's depressive life. While I won't ever believe listening to Marilyn Manson can make you want to shoot schoolchildren, I do think that if someone is struggling with suicidal thoughts or depression, this movie probably isn't for them. The story focuses on the media glorifying the terrible acts of someone who is mentally unstable. Yes, it's a movie. It's not real. But for someone in a very bad place themselves, this probably isn't the kind of thing you need to, or should, watch.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Banewreaker in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Banewreaker Will Make You Feel Bad for Sauron
Contains spoilers, click to show
Very few fantasy fans can get away with admitting that they aren’t all that big into sweeping, high epic fantasy à la Lord of the Rings or the Pern stories or everything that Terry Brooks writes. Many non-fantasy fans, however, can point to these tales as examples of why they aren’t into fantasy. Like it or not, it’s hard not to see the latter group’s point, as a lot of high fantasy is riddled with confusing terminology, rehashed stories, and genre clichés. This is not to say that these stories are bad, per sé, just that they can easily turn off readers who aren’t in the right kind of crowd.
Banewreaker, the first book in Jacqueline Carey’s two-part volume The Sundering, will probably not change any opinions in this respect, then, as it’s sweeping high fantasy to the core. This, as it turns out, is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.
There are some reviews out there that laud Banewreaker as a masterful examination of subjective viewpoints in an epic fantasy turned into a human tragedy by a simple change of perspective. And they are absolutely correct.
There are other reviews, however, that call the book out as a heap of all of the stalest fantasy clichés piled one atop the other in a confusing and pretentious jumble with a shellacking of purple prose for good measure. And they are also absolutely correct.
Let me explain.
For starters, it would be inaccurate to say that this story is full of clichés. This story is clichés. This story is every familiar and used-up trope you would expect from a high fantasy, all of those details that have been done to death in thousands of other versions until almost nothing that happens seems original anymore.
This is what’s going to turn off a lot of people. But the thing is, Banewreaker has to be this way. It wants the reader to look at all of the things that they’ve come to expect from a fantasy epic and then, by shifting the narrative focus, realize that all of these beloved tropes are actually, when you think about it, tragic as hell.
In other words, it’s Lord of the Rings from Sauron’s point of view.
It’s not a riff, though. It’s not goofy like most of the stuff I go in for. It takes its subject just as seriously as the stories that it’s mirroring, and this is what makes the whole story ultimately so gripping and so moving.
The story starts out like many stories of this magnitude, with exposition stretching back to the Dawn of This Particular Creation. In this case, we have a protogenos world god named Uru-Alat who died and gave rise to seven smaller godlike beings called Shapers. First comes Haomane, who becomes the Lord of Thought and sets himself up as head honcho for this ensuing pantheon. Second is Arahila, the Basically a Love Goddess; and third is Satoris, whose purview was “the quickening of the flesh,” which is high fantasy speak for sexy times. Four more Shapers come after this who, for the sake of brevity, we’ll be glossing over.
To summarize the important godly exposition, the Seven Shapers set about shaping the world to the surprise of no one. Haomane creates elves (here called Ellyl, but if you’ve ever even looked at a fantasy, you know that they’re the elves here), Arahila creates humans, and Satoris doesn’t create anything because he’s busy hanging out with dragons and learning their wisdom. Satoris grants his fleshy quickening to the humans but not the elves, because Haomane didn’t want his elves to do that. Then Haomane decides he doesn’t want the humans to do that either, but Satoris refuses to take the gift away again. Conflict escalates, god wars ensue, and the world splits into two continents, with Satoris ostracized from his brethren on one and the remaining Shapers on the other. By the time the dust has settled, Satoris is scarred and burned pitch black, living in a mostly dead land thanks to Haomane’s wrath, but with a dagger in his possession that is the only weapon capable of killing any of the Shapers.
The story itself picks up thousands of years later, with Satoris as the Satan/Sauron stand-in living in a forbidding land surrounded by classically evil things like trolls, giant spiders, and insane people. Since Haomane is the head god, the rest of the world believes Satoris to be a terrible figure of evil and betrayal, while Satoris’s few allies know him as a pitiable and misunderstood figure who only ever wanted to honor his word and do right by his own sense of morality rather than the dictates of his elder brother god king.
From here the plot becomes the typical Army of Good vs. Army of Evil adventure, but with the protagonistic focus on Satoris and his allies. His trolls we see not as a mindless horde but as a simple, honorable people who happily serve their lord because he happily serves them right back. The mad individuals inhabiting his fortress are castaways from normal society with nowhere else to go. And the giant spiders just happen to live there and be bigger than normal, with no sinister intentions beyond that.
And just like that, by actually showing us the home life of the ultimate in evil fantasy tropes, we see how easily one side’s view of evil is another’s view of good. In doing so, Banewreaker becomes perhaps the first sweeping fantasy epic with no real bad guy, just two sides of an unfortunate conflict. Both sides have their likeable characters, both sides seem from their view to be in the right, and pretty soon you, as the reader, will stop cheering for either one, because whenever one person that you like succeeds it means that another person whom you also like is failing.
In fact, the closest thing that this story has to a clearly-labeled “evil” character is the sorceress Lilias, and even then, she’s not evil so much as a woman who has done some bad things for completely understandable reasons. Lilias, in fact, is one of the most pitiful characters in this whole saga of pitiable characters, with her fears and attachments closely mirroring those of most readers, only amplified by her immortality and magical powers. She is afraid of dying. She wants to be more in the grand scheme of things than just another man’s wife or another country’s momentary ruler, both of which would just be tiny moments in a long history. She likes her youth. She likes having pretty things and pretty people around her. And from her interactions with her dragon mentor and apparently only friend, Calandor, we see that she is also capable of intense affection and even love just as she is capable of indulging in self-centered self-interest that, if not particularly a good trait, is also one that she is not alone in possessing.
Banewreaker, then, is a story with a large cast of characters but very few actual heroes or innocents as well as very few outright villains, which is exactly what it sets out to be. Those who love it and those who hate it both seem to blame this quality in particular for their feelings. The biggest complaint leveled against it (that I have read, anyway) is that the people we should be rooting for do not deserve our sympathy, while the people we should be rooting against are more misguided and unwilling to see things in another light than deserving of our scorn.
This is true. But if it’s a flaw, it’s an intentional one. And if it makes you feel like you shouldn’t be cheering for either side at all in this conflict, that’s the point. This is a story of clichés, yes, but it has something that it needs to say about these clichés and, in doing so, about the subjective and impossibly nebulous quality of morality in general.
In short, here again is another fantasy story about the Forces of Good wiping out an entire nation dedicated to their “evil” enemy. And as the story points out, even if you believe in that cause, you’re still wiping out an entire nation of people. No way is there not a downside to that. Seeing things in a black-and-white morality just means crushing a whole lot of important shades of gray underfoot.
Whether or not you like Banewreaker, then, depends in large part upon how much you realize that Carey as an author is being self-aware. As someone who read and still hasn’t stopped being awed over her Kushiel series, I can’t claim complete objectivity in this area, because I came to Banewreaker already in love with her. I can say, however, that unless you have an intense and searing aversion to ornate and sweeping style, this book is worth any fantasy-lover’s time – especially if you’ve ever felt a pang of empathy for all of the poor villainous mooks that fantasy heroes tend to mow down without a thought because they were the wrong kind of ugly.
Banewreaker, the first book in Jacqueline Carey’s two-part volume The Sundering, will probably not change any opinions in this respect, then, as it’s sweeping high fantasy to the core. This, as it turns out, is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.
There are some reviews out there that laud Banewreaker as a masterful examination of subjective viewpoints in an epic fantasy turned into a human tragedy by a simple change of perspective. And they are absolutely correct.
There are other reviews, however, that call the book out as a heap of all of the stalest fantasy clichés piled one atop the other in a confusing and pretentious jumble with a shellacking of purple prose for good measure. And they are also absolutely correct.
Let me explain.
For starters, it would be inaccurate to say that this story is full of clichés. This story is clichés. This story is every familiar and used-up trope you would expect from a high fantasy, all of those details that have been done to death in thousands of other versions until almost nothing that happens seems original anymore.
This is what’s going to turn off a lot of people. But the thing is, Banewreaker has to be this way. It wants the reader to look at all of the things that they’ve come to expect from a fantasy epic and then, by shifting the narrative focus, realize that all of these beloved tropes are actually, when you think about it, tragic as hell.
In other words, it’s Lord of the Rings from Sauron’s point of view.
It’s not a riff, though. It’s not goofy like most of the stuff I go in for. It takes its subject just as seriously as the stories that it’s mirroring, and this is what makes the whole story ultimately so gripping and so moving.
The story starts out like many stories of this magnitude, with exposition stretching back to the Dawn of This Particular Creation. In this case, we have a protogenos world god named Uru-Alat who died and gave rise to seven smaller godlike beings called Shapers. First comes Haomane, who becomes the Lord of Thought and sets himself up as head honcho for this ensuing pantheon. Second is Arahila, the Basically a Love Goddess; and third is Satoris, whose purview was “the quickening of the flesh,” which is high fantasy speak for sexy times. Four more Shapers come after this who, for the sake of brevity, we’ll be glossing over.
To summarize the important godly exposition, the Seven Shapers set about shaping the world to the surprise of no one. Haomane creates elves (here called Ellyl, but if you’ve ever even looked at a fantasy, you know that they’re the elves here), Arahila creates humans, and Satoris doesn’t create anything because he’s busy hanging out with dragons and learning their wisdom. Satoris grants his fleshy quickening to the humans but not the elves, because Haomane didn’t want his elves to do that. Then Haomane decides he doesn’t want the humans to do that either, but Satoris refuses to take the gift away again. Conflict escalates, god wars ensue, and the world splits into two continents, with Satoris ostracized from his brethren on one and the remaining Shapers on the other. By the time the dust has settled, Satoris is scarred and burned pitch black, living in a mostly dead land thanks to Haomane’s wrath, but with a dagger in his possession that is the only weapon capable of killing any of the Shapers.
The story itself picks up thousands of years later, with Satoris as the Satan/Sauron stand-in living in a forbidding land surrounded by classically evil things like trolls, giant spiders, and insane people. Since Haomane is the head god, the rest of the world believes Satoris to be a terrible figure of evil and betrayal, while Satoris’s few allies know him as a pitiable and misunderstood figure who only ever wanted to honor his word and do right by his own sense of morality rather than the dictates of his elder brother god king.
From here the plot becomes the typical Army of Good vs. Army of Evil adventure, but with the protagonistic focus on Satoris and his allies. His trolls we see not as a mindless horde but as a simple, honorable people who happily serve their lord because he happily serves them right back. The mad individuals inhabiting his fortress are castaways from normal society with nowhere else to go. And the giant spiders just happen to live there and be bigger than normal, with no sinister intentions beyond that.
And just like that, by actually showing us the home life of the ultimate in evil fantasy tropes, we see how easily one side’s view of evil is another’s view of good. In doing so, Banewreaker becomes perhaps the first sweeping fantasy epic with no real bad guy, just two sides of an unfortunate conflict. Both sides have their likeable characters, both sides seem from their view to be in the right, and pretty soon you, as the reader, will stop cheering for either one, because whenever one person that you like succeeds it means that another person whom you also like is failing.
In fact, the closest thing that this story has to a clearly-labeled “evil” character is the sorceress Lilias, and even then, she’s not evil so much as a woman who has done some bad things for completely understandable reasons. Lilias, in fact, is one of the most pitiful characters in this whole saga of pitiable characters, with her fears and attachments closely mirroring those of most readers, only amplified by her immortality and magical powers. She is afraid of dying. She wants to be more in the grand scheme of things than just another man’s wife or another country’s momentary ruler, both of which would just be tiny moments in a long history. She likes her youth. She likes having pretty things and pretty people around her. And from her interactions with her dragon mentor and apparently only friend, Calandor, we see that she is also capable of intense affection and even love just as she is capable of indulging in self-centered self-interest that, if not particularly a good trait, is also one that she is not alone in possessing.
Banewreaker, then, is a story with a large cast of characters but very few actual heroes or innocents as well as very few outright villains, which is exactly what it sets out to be. Those who love it and those who hate it both seem to blame this quality in particular for their feelings. The biggest complaint leveled against it (that I have read, anyway) is that the people we should be rooting for do not deserve our sympathy, while the people we should be rooting against are more misguided and unwilling to see things in another light than deserving of our scorn.
This is true. But if it’s a flaw, it’s an intentional one. And if it makes you feel like you shouldn’t be cheering for either side at all in this conflict, that’s the point. This is a story of clichés, yes, but it has something that it needs to say about these clichés and, in doing so, about the subjective and impossibly nebulous quality of morality in general.
In short, here again is another fantasy story about the Forces of Good wiping out an entire nation dedicated to their “evil” enemy. And as the story points out, even if you believe in that cause, you’re still wiping out an entire nation of people. No way is there not a downside to that. Seeing things in a black-and-white morality just means crushing a whole lot of important shades of gray underfoot.
Whether or not you like Banewreaker, then, depends in large part upon how much you realize that Carey as an author is being self-aware. As someone who read and still hasn’t stopped being awed over her Kushiel series, I can’t claim complete objectivity in this area, because I came to Banewreaker already in love with her. I can say, however, that unless you have an intense and searing aversion to ornate and sweeping style, this book is worth any fantasy-lover’s time – especially if you’ve ever felt a pang of empathy for all of the poor villainous mooks that fantasy heroes tend to mow down without a thought because they were the wrong kind of ugly.
A Bibliophagist (113 KP) rated Scythe (Arc of a Scythe #1) in Books
Jan 27, 2020
Well written (3 more)
Unique plot
Less YA tropes
No teen angst and romance
Not your typical YA
I approached this book with little expectation. I saw it cluttering up my feed on Instagram and being posted by everyone. I liked the cover (I'm a sucker for good covers and any YA without a photo manipulated monstrosity catches my eye). However every time I picked it up in the store and read the back and I just wasn't interested.
So in a New year new me moment, I forced myself to pick up two popular books that I was not interested in. Since they were both YA, they'd be quick reads and my expectations could below. I also forced my picks to not be hard SciFi, as I need to step out of my comfort zone. I picked this up, and developed more concern when I noticed how divided the reviews were, I noticed people were either firmly in the "this is my most favorite book ever" or in the "this is the most boring book ever I hated it" camps. I rarely rate books 1 or 5, so I wanted to see how I felt.
Honestly, I was very pleasantly surprised. This book is YA, and obviously has some YA aspects, but it doesn't follow the tropes unless stripped down to bullet points and is surprisingly well written. This well written aspect, with no intentions of making people mad, I think is why so many found it boring. If you primarily read YA, and are used to it's over the top writing, it's over the top dialogue and relationships and emotions, then yes, this book was probably horribly boring.
We do open with the standard tropes of uninteresting, normal girl and boy get thrown into something extraordinary. But that's where the stereotypes ended for me. The author quickly throws us into the world and the events of the story. We're in the future, who knows how far past the present, where society has overcome death. AI has evolved and "The Cloud" is now "The Thunderhead" a massive AI database that has solved most of the world's problems, eliminated poverty, war, government, created jobs for everyone, and even defeated death. We all have healing nanites that prevent illness and repair injury, and even in the case of death, we can be revived at a revival center and be greeted with some tasty ice cream. If we start feeling our age, we can just "turn a corner" resetting ourselves to a younger version of ourselves while retaining our memories.
Now, in a world without death, but babies are still being born, some form of population control is in order, the balance must be restored. So the world created the Scythedom. An organization outside the authority of "The Thunderhead" because death has and always should be a responsibility of the living. Those who become Scythes, must "Glean" (permanently kill) a quota of people every year to maintain population control. How they do so is up to them, but there are rules, a Scythe cannot show bias or malice in their choices, they cannot marry or have a family, they cannot kill another Scythe (but they can glean themselves) or someone with immunity, They may grant immunity to those they feel worthy, they must kill the families of those who resist, and they are above all other laws. The vagueness of these laws worked when the Scythedom was first created, but the world has become complicated, and some people have decided to find joy in what they do, even if it's killing.
Our story follows two teenagers who recently encountered the Honorable Scythe Faraday, Citra, and Rowan. Citra showed gumption and sass and moral balance, and Rowan held the hand of a boy that was not his friend as he was gleaned. Faraday is considered old school and chooses all that is gleaned by old school, age of mortality statistics. If a percentage of teenagers died in alcohol-related car accidents, he found a teenager with a penchant for drinking, who just got a car, and gleaned them. He believes the job is necessary, but should never be enjoyed, you need to be moral and compassionate and hurt every time. He is granted permission to take on an apprentice, and he takes on two, Rowan and Citra. Neither want it, nor should they, but should they become a Scythe, their families will receive immunity as long as they shall live, which in this day in age could be forever. So, reluctantly they both take it. There is a glamour to Scythedom as well, they'll wat for nothing, people will bend over backward to provide them with their desires in the hopes of immunity. If these two follow the teachings of Faraday, they won't be tempted by this, they won't abuse it, but not everyone feels the same way.
Citra and Rowan begin training (it gets a bit YAish here) studying history, poisons, combat, weapons. The goal to make them perfect, moral, compassionate, killing machines. Everything is going as well as it can, and luckily the book doesn't do what every other YA author would do and give us pages upon pages of the two falling in love, awkward encounters, stolen kisses. We have none of that thankfully. The dialogue is all purposeful and helps propel the plot, not flowery passages talking about teenage angst and feelings. But, it is a book, after all, so everything starts falling apart when a group of "New Age" Scythes, Scythes that believe they should enjoy their jobs, who take pleasure in mass killings (entire flights, festivals, food courts) stir things up at a Scythe Conclave meeting. They question if having two apprentices hurts whether or not the Conclave can judge the worthiness of either, or if them being friends will result in them always helping each other. How can they truly judge their ability if they always have each other's support? So they propose, since no law prevents it, that whichever apprentice should be chosen (remember Faraday was given permission to have ONE apprentice) will have to Glean the other. The Lead Scythe allows it, and honestly, this is one aspect of the book I struggled with, but I think was supposed to express the corruption of the Scythedom, at times when things aren't in writing they say "welp can't do it" and other times they say "welp nothing says we can't do it". Faraday attempts to free our two protagonists from their apprenticeships, but instead, they are separated, one going to a respected Old School Scythe, one going to the very modern group that started this whole problem, thrusting them into a world excess, deprivation, and honestly psychotic murdering. They now train, separately, knowing that one will die unless they can figure out a way to change things.
Even writing that sounds so Yaish, but it doesn't feel that way because it's so well written. The author doesn't give us Romeo and Juliet, no pining, no romance, just two kids trying to be that, good. Even when surrounded by something very bad. So, if you want to star crossed lovers, you won't like this book. If you like character development and struggle, you might like this book. We arguably see more of Rowan's development, Citra for me felt less focused on or given fewer opportunities for growth, and she had a bit of an attitude that made me no like her much, but given her circumstances, I UNDERSTOOD why she was the way she is, and I can't say I wouldn't be just as grumpy. If anything her response to the corruption and the situation felt very real, even if it sacrificed having a manic pixie daydream mary sue to project myself into. While appearances weren't really given for the two, setting them up to be good old fashioned Mary Sue and Gary Stu, they were very much their own people, with little room for the reader to pretend to be them. So another star in the breaking the YA mold category. We watch them struggle with where they are, and how to come to terms with their inevitable future, either being takers of life or having their life taken.
Overall this was refreshing, while it was an easy read and was a good "palette cleanser" and m boyfriend calls my YA marathons in between books that actually linger in my soul. It felt elevated, sure it was still very much YA, but it was more thought out than the standard, it focused on the story and not the romance, it focused on important things, and it never lost sight of its story. I started at 11am on a Sunday and Finished by noon on Monday, eager for the next. It was an unexpected, refreshing read, with a unique concept that has room for more. The sequel doesn't feel forced, and if I never got it, this story is finished, but the world and situation created to allow for more, without feeling like a forced trilogy. I wanted to know how this story was going to play out, and now that it has, I want to know how the next story in this set up plays out.
So in a New year new me moment, I forced myself to pick up two popular books that I was not interested in. Since they were both YA, they'd be quick reads and my expectations could below. I also forced my picks to not be hard SciFi, as I need to step out of my comfort zone. I picked this up, and developed more concern when I noticed how divided the reviews were, I noticed people were either firmly in the "this is my most favorite book ever" or in the "this is the most boring book ever I hated it" camps. I rarely rate books 1 or 5, so I wanted to see how I felt.
Honestly, I was very pleasantly surprised. This book is YA, and obviously has some YA aspects, but it doesn't follow the tropes unless stripped down to bullet points and is surprisingly well written. This well written aspect, with no intentions of making people mad, I think is why so many found it boring. If you primarily read YA, and are used to it's over the top writing, it's over the top dialogue and relationships and emotions, then yes, this book was probably horribly boring.
We do open with the standard tropes of uninteresting, normal girl and boy get thrown into something extraordinary. But that's where the stereotypes ended for me. The author quickly throws us into the world and the events of the story. We're in the future, who knows how far past the present, where society has overcome death. AI has evolved and "The Cloud" is now "The Thunderhead" a massive AI database that has solved most of the world's problems, eliminated poverty, war, government, created jobs for everyone, and even defeated death. We all have healing nanites that prevent illness and repair injury, and even in the case of death, we can be revived at a revival center and be greeted with some tasty ice cream. If we start feeling our age, we can just "turn a corner" resetting ourselves to a younger version of ourselves while retaining our memories.
Now, in a world without death, but babies are still being born, some form of population control is in order, the balance must be restored. So the world created the Scythedom. An organization outside the authority of "The Thunderhead" because death has and always should be a responsibility of the living. Those who become Scythes, must "Glean" (permanently kill) a quota of people every year to maintain population control. How they do so is up to them, but there are rules, a Scythe cannot show bias or malice in their choices, they cannot marry or have a family, they cannot kill another Scythe (but they can glean themselves) or someone with immunity, They may grant immunity to those they feel worthy, they must kill the families of those who resist, and they are above all other laws. The vagueness of these laws worked when the Scythedom was first created, but the world has become complicated, and some people have decided to find joy in what they do, even if it's killing.
Our story follows two teenagers who recently encountered the Honorable Scythe Faraday, Citra, and Rowan. Citra showed gumption and sass and moral balance, and Rowan held the hand of a boy that was not his friend as he was gleaned. Faraday is considered old school and chooses all that is gleaned by old school, age of mortality statistics. If a percentage of teenagers died in alcohol-related car accidents, he found a teenager with a penchant for drinking, who just got a car, and gleaned them. He believes the job is necessary, but should never be enjoyed, you need to be moral and compassionate and hurt every time. He is granted permission to take on an apprentice, and he takes on two, Rowan and Citra. Neither want it, nor should they, but should they become a Scythe, their families will receive immunity as long as they shall live, which in this day in age could be forever. So, reluctantly they both take it. There is a glamour to Scythedom as well, they'll wat for nothing, people will bend over backward to provide them with their desires in the hopes of immunity. If these two follow the teachings of Faraday, they won't be tempted by this, they won't abuse it, but not everyone feels the same way.
Citra and Rowan begin training (it gets a bit YAish here) studying history, poisons, combat, weapons. The goal to make them perfect, moral, compassionate, killing machines. Everything is going as well as it can, and luckily the book doesn't do what every other YA author would do and give us pages upon pages of the two falling in love, awkward encounters, stolen kisses. We have none of that thankfully. The dialogue is all purposeful and helps propel the plot, not flowery passages talking about teenage angst and feelings. But, it is a book, after all, so everything starts falling apart when a group of "New Age" Scythes, Scythes that believe they should enjoy their jobs, who take pleasure in mass killings (entire flights, festivals, food courts) stir things up at a Scythe Conclave meeting. They question if having two apprentices hurts whether or not the Conclave can judge the worthiness of either, or if them being friends will result in them always helping each other. How can they truly judge their ability if they always have each other's support? So they propose, since no law prevents it, that whichever apprentice should be chosen (remember Faraday was given permission to have ONE apprentice) will have to Glean the other. The Lead Scythe allows it, and honestly, this is one aspect of the book I struggled with, but I think was supposed to express the corruption of the Scythedom, at times when things aren't in writing they say "welp can't do it" and other times they say "welp nothing says we can't do it". Faraday attempts to free our two protagonists from their apprenticeships, but instead, they are separated, one going to a respected Old School Scythe, one going to the very modern group that started this whole problem, thrusting them into a world excess, deprivation, and honestly psychotic murdering. They now train, separately, knowing that one will die unless they can figure out a way to change things.
Even writing that sounds so Yaish, but it doesn't feel that way because it's so well written. The author doesn't give us Romeo and Juliet, no pining, no romance, just two kids trying to be that, good. Even when surrounded by something very bad. So, if you want to star crossed lovers, you won't like this book. If you like character development and struggle, you might like this book. We arguably see more of Rowan's development, Citra for me felt less focused on or given fewer opportunities for growth, and she had a bit of an attitude that made me no like her much, but given her circumstances, I UNDERSTOOD why she was the way she is, and I can't say I wouldn't be just as grumpy. If anything her response to the corruption and the situation felt very real, even if it sacrificed having a manic pixie daydream mary sue to project myself into. While appearances weren't really given for the two, setting them up to be good old fashioned Mary Sue and Gary Stu, they were very much their own people, with little room for the reader to pretend to be them. So another star in the breaking the YA mold category. We watch them struggle with where they are, and how to come to terms with their inevitable future, either being takers of life or having their life taken.
Overall this was refreshing, while it was an easy read and was a good "palette cleanser" and m boyfriend calls my YA marathons in between books that actually linger in my soul. It felt elevated, sure it was still very much YA, but it was more thought out than the standard, it focused on the story and not the romance, it focused on important things, and it never lost sight of its story. I started at 11am on a Sunday and Finished by noon on Monday, eager for the next. It was an unexpected, refreshing read, with a unique concept that has room for more. The sequel doesn't feel forced, and if I never got it, this story is finished, but the world and situation created to allow for more, without feeling like a forced trilogy. I wanted to know how this story was going to play out, and now that it has, I want to know how the next story in this set up plays out.