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Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Tales from the Loop in TV
Jan 22, 2021
Such is the competition for our attention on the major streaming services, and such is the daunting depth of choice, that sometimes something of real quality can slip through the net for a while. I like to think that eventually, everything gets the audience it deserves, because eventually enough people that appreciated it will find it and pass it on. But it is apparent that good things can go under the radar very easily for one reason or another.
Everything about the production and presentation of Amazon’s Tales From the Loop suggests they thought it might be a bigger hit, or at least they had enough faith in it to let it be different from the mass appeal conventions that apply to sci-fi shows. They have proved this many times in recent years, with shows like The Man In the High Castle and The Expanse favouring patient and mature story-telling over interminable flashbangs and whizzpops usually found in the more action based sci-fi on Netflix and others (The Handmaid’s Tale being another notable exception).
Having raised myself auto-didactically on the oldest traditions of science fiction writing in novel and short story form since my teenage years, I can say with some amateur authority that the point of using sci-fi ideas was always about the people and the parallels to social reality and politics that could be highlighted by putting them in a “what-if” situation. The lazer guns and spaceships and evil aliens were much more a product of Hollywood, and still are. Great science fiction writing can and usually does revolve around a very simple change to the world we know, an inversion or a convention or a technology that turns how we live on its head. At its best it is philosophical and moral poetry.
Tales From the Loop, inspired by the beguiling paintings of Swedish Artist Simon Stålenhag aspires to return to these principles, eschewing breakneck pace and unnecessary exposition at every turn – it is entirely content to confuse and sometimes even bore you with its patient, melancholy approach, testing almost if you are worthy to reach the prize of deeper meaning buried away in the final few episodes.
The idea of Stålenhag’s work is to juxtapose a familiar and mundane landscape with a detail of technology that does not exist in our reality. Often it is something broken, run-down or neglected, leaving a strange sadness and beauty behind that has you wondering who once made this and what was it for, and why is it no longer loved? The untold stories objects and hidden lives, secrets and desires that have been lost, is what this sensitive and delicate show is about. It is about the interconnection of lives caught in time, and the sci-fi / tech conceit is only the hanger that coat is put on. Which… I love.
The surface idea is that we are looking at the inhabitants of a small American town that once relied on farming and community, but now has been changed by the presence of an underground facility that deals with experimental physics and finding ways to make impossible things possible. They call it The Loop. It is never fully explained where it came from, or why, or what it is truly capable of – the mystery is always allowed to remain mostly a mystery – which, again, I love!
Many people in the town work at The Loop and rely on it for their livelihoods and collective economy, including Jonathon Pryce and Rebecca Hall, who are ostensibly the show’s main characters. But most folk have no idea what is really going on. Each episode focuses on one or two members of the community that interweave with one another; several important people begin as background dressing and become more prevalent as the full story of their lives and connections unfolds. But no one character is in every episode… which, you know, I love.
Their lives, that seem simple at first glance, are revealed to be complex tapestries of emotion and personal history, revolving around how The Loop has affected them and the things they love. The progression and unfolding of the detail is so deliberate and usually under-explained that very often you don’t realise the effect the full image will have. And when it does catch up with you it becomes a very moving and meaningful experience. Characters that you don’t understand or even like at first come into sharper focus as we reach the climax of the season and grow to learn why they are the way they are. The story arcs of Pryce and Hall in particular are very satisfying, tragic yet utterly beautiful to comprehend.
A lot of the criticism you will see about the show will concentrate on how slow it all is. I am totally convinced this is a deliberate artistic choice to weed out the thrill junkies. They are very welcome to go elsewhere, and it sounds as if many of them did, basing their reviews on one or two half watched episodes they couldn’t be bothered to engage with or wonder at. Which is why I think in time the respect for this as a work of art will come back around.
There is nothing to fault in the production at all. From the opening credits to the end of each episode, what you get is a very highly polished and considered look and feel, designed to evoke certain feelings over others – a wistfulness, an ennui, a bittersweet smile of knowing, perhaps. It invites you to watch patiently and relate, not to watch eagerly and expect… which, you know, I love.
The photography is crisp and well framed always; the music is subtle but effective; the dialogue is often sparing and well chosen (no detail is merely thrown away); and the direction is of a remarkably uniform vision, considering each episode is a different guest professional, including such prestigious names as Jodie Foster, Mark Romanek and Andrew Stanton.
I absolutely urge anyone that isn’t put off by a little sentiment to give this one a try. Sadness and regret in life is not something to shun and be afraid of, they are parts of human experience, and I love art that explores them as concepts. Put that art in a science fiction context and I am bound to love it even more. Like the final moments of Blade Runner, we know that one day all these moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. We have to take time to see the beauty while we can, even if that beauty is painful.
It may not be for you – I don’t think it is better or worse than other things, just more… me. There is every chance that if it isn’t you… you will hate it. If you do begin, however, please see it to the finish before casting judgement – the final episode directed by Jodie Foster is truly wonderful: a pay-off of such emotion after your investment of seven previous stories, tying it all together perfectly. Rarely have I felt so stupid for not understanding the point of something sooner, or been more pleased that I hadn’t. The final moment of the season is literally unforgettable, and gets richer in my imagination by the day.
Will there be a second season? There certainly could be. Was it enough of a success to justify the investment? Hmm, not sure. Either way, it either sits as a perfect self contained collection of fine, old-fashioned sci-fi stories, or I’d be happy to see it expand, as long as the temptation isn’t to listen to the negative reviews and pander to the fast-food mentality that has already rejected it without fully understanding it. Because nothing needs to change here. A thing of beauty, recommended to those who like beautiful and delicate things.
Everything about the production and presentation of Amazon’s Tales From the Loop suggests they thought it might be a bigger hit, or at least they had enough faith in it to let it be different from the mass appeal conventions that apply to sci-fi shows. They have proved this many times in recent years, with shows like The Man In the High Castle and The Expanse favouring patient and mature story-telling over interminable flashbangs and whizzpops usually found in the more action based sci-fi on Netflix and others (The Handmaid’s Tale being another notable exception).
Having raised myself auto-didactically on the oldest traditions of science fiction writing in novel and short story form since my teenage years, I can say with some amateur authority that the point of using sci-fi ideas was always about the people and the parallels to social reality and politics that could be highlighted by putting them in a “what-if” situation. The lazer guns and spaceships and evil aliens were much more a product of Hollywood, and still are. Great science fiction writing can and usually does revolve around a very simple change to the world we know, an inversion or a convention or a technology that turns how we live on its head. At its best it is philosophical and moral poetry.
Tales From the Loop, inspired by the beguiling paintings of Swedish Artist Simon Stålenhag aspires to return to these principles, eschewing breakneck pace and unnecessary exposition at every turn – it is entirely content to confuse and sometimes even bore you with its patient, melancholy approach, testing almost if you are worthy to reach the prize of deeper meaning buried away in the final few episodes.
The idea of Stålenhag’s work is to juxtapose a familiar and mundane landscape with a detail of technology that does not exist in our reality. Often it is something broken, run-down or neglected, leaving a strange sadness and beauty behind that has you wondering who once made this and what was it for, and why is it no longer loved? The untold stories objects and hidden lives, secrets and desires that have been lost, is what this sensitive and delicate show is about. It is about the interconnection of lives caught in time, and the sci-fi / tech conceit is only the hanger that coat is put on. Which… I love.
The surface idea is that we are looking at the inhabitants of a small American town that once relied on farming and community, but now has been changed by the presence of an underground facility that deals with experimental physics and finding ways to make impossible things possible. They call it The Loop. It is never fully explained where it came from, or why, or what it is truly capable of – the mystery is always allowed to remain mostly a mystery – which, again, I love!
Many people in the town work at The Loop and rely on it for their livelihoods and collective economy, including Jonathon Pryce and Rebecca Hall, who are ostensibly the show’s main characters. But most folk have no idea what is really going on. Each episode focuses on one or two members of the community that interweave with one another; several important people begin as background dressing and become more prevalent as the full story of their lives and connections unfolds. But no one character is in every episode… which, you know, I love.
Their lives, that seem simple at first glance, are revealed to be complex tapestries of emotion and personal history, revolving around how The Loop has affected them and the things they love. The progression and unfolding of the detail is so deliberate and usually under-explained that very often you don’t realise the effect the full image will have. And when it does catch up with you it becomes a very moving and meaningful experience. Characters that you don’t understand or even like at first come into sharper focus as we reach the climax of the season and grow to learn why they are the way they are. The story arcs of Pryce and Hall in particular are very satisfying, tragic yet utterly beautiful to comprehend.
A lot of the criticism you will see about the show will concentrate on how slow it all is. I am totally convinced this is a deliberate artistic choice to weed out the thrill junkies. They are very welcome to go elsewhere, and it sounds as if many of them did, basing their reviews on one or two half watched episodes they couldn’t be bothered to engage with or wonder at. Which is why I think in time the respect for this as a work of art will come back around.
There is nothing to fault in the production at all. From the opening credits to the end of each episode, what you get is a very highly polished and considered look and feel, designed to evoke certain feelings over others – a wistfulness, an ennui, a bittersweet smile of knowing, perhaps. It invites you to watch patiently and relate, not to watch eagerly and expect… which, you know, I love.
The photography is crisp and well framed always; the music is subtle but effective; the dialogue is often sparing and well chosen (no detail is merely thrown away); and the direction is of a remarkably uniform vision, considering each episode is a different guest professional, including such prestigious names as Jodie Foster, Mark Romanek and Andrew Stanton.
I absolutely urge anyone that isn’t put off by a little sentiment to give this one a try. Sadness and regret in life is not something to shun and be afraid of, they are parts of human experience, and I love art that explores them as concepts. Put that art in a science fiction context and I am bound to love it even more. Like the final moments of Blade Runner, we know that one day all these moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. We have to take time to see the beauty while we can, even if that beauty is painful.
It may not be for you – I don’t think it is better or worse than other things, just more… me. There is every chance that if it isn’t you… you will hate it. If you do begin, however, please see it to the finish before casting judgement – the final episode directed by Jodie Foster is truly wonderful: a pay-off of such emotion after your investment of seven previous stories, tying it all together perfectly. Rarely have I felt so stupid for not understanding the point of something sooner, or been more pleased that I hadn’t. The final moment of the season is literally unforgettable, and gets richer in my imagination by the day.
Will there be a second season? There certainly could be. Was it enough of a success to justify the investment? Hmm, not sure. Either way, it either sits as a perfect self contained collection of fine, old-fashioned sci-fi stories, or I’d be happy to see it expand, as long as the temptation isn’t to listen to the negative reviews and pander to the fast-food mentality that has already rejected it without fully understanding it. Because nothing needs to change here. A thing of beauty, recommended to those who like beautiful and delicate things.
Ryan Hill (152 KP) rated Wonder Woman (2017) in Movies
May 18, 2019
"I can save today, you can save the world"
Remember when some trickster claiming to be a former worker from Warner Bros. wrote an open letter saying that Wonder Woman was just another mess of a DC movie, et cetera? I remember how Patty Jenkins responded to that. She tweeted: "Just wait and you'll see".
Honestly, I don't know how anyone could even consider that there was the slightest chance of this movie not being good, and I'm gonna tell you why: this is the very first big female-led superhero movie, in which the title character also happens to be the greatest female superhero in history. If you really think that Patty Jenkins, also the first woman to ever direct a superhero movie of this caliber in a industry where women barely stand any chances to get to direct major blockbusters, would let this movie be anything less than great... You've got another thing coming, mate.
Wonder Woman is a traditional, oldschool superhero movie, but the first essentially feminist one at it, and they couldn't have chosen a better setting to tell this story, or a better character to star in it. The movie's social comments are strong and constantly present, but never forced, because it is only natural: by placing Diana, a princess raised in an island of warrior women, in the middle of the reality of World War I, the absurdities of the feminine role in the world - and so many other human corruptions - automatically come to light. The way Diana reacts to this world raises a great sense of awareness, with a touch of poignant humor to it. There is a very funny subtle arc of her wanting to take out her cloak, but not being able to because her armor is "barely any clothes", hinting not only at society's sexist feminine dressing code - which is still a thing today -, but also gradually adding power to the iconography of Wonder Woman in full costume; this is Wonder Woman's much awaited debut on the big screen in a solo movie, and like Superman and Batman before her, her first appearance needed to be something incredibly striking. Patty knew that, Gal knew that, and they made it happen. Even if we already saw her in BVS, the very first time Wonder Woman walks up in full costume here is undoubtedly one of the most iconic moments in superhero cinema.
Jenkins is extremely devoted to giving Wonder Woman the iconic debut film she deserves, and she nails it - there's quite a bit of remarkable shots and set pieces that let out the same imagetic power as in Donner's Superman, Burton's Batman or even Raimi's Spider-Man, and I must highlight the No Man's Land sequence. It's my favorite part of the movie; Jenkins and Heinberg carefully work on Diana's mindset as she first witness the horrors of human war, not being able to help everyone, horses being hurt so they can move faster, a mother and a child begging for help, and it all leads up to the powerful moment of a woman crossing the land no man could cross - and Heinberg's dialogue doesn't rely on obvious statements such as "fortunately I'm a woman" (I'm looking at you, Batwoman trailer), it simply lets the image strike us, because it is powerful enough by itself, and boy did that cause some serious goosebumps.
Speaking of dialogue... It's so terrific, so well written. The exchanges between Diana and Steve Trevor are very clever and funny, but most of all natural. All the characters are also extremely likable; Allan Heinberg's writing knows that not all of them can be given deep development, but nonetheless he gives them stories, personalities and purposes, and that - plus the charismatic performances - makes them very empathetic. The villains are not as remarkable as in some of the other DCEU films, but they didn't need to be; the movie doesn't require in-depth arcs from its villains. They have a strong presence when they're in scene and a well elaborated lore, and that's everything they need.
Contrary to the Nordic mythology depicted in the MCU, here we are talking about real gods, true deities, not superpowerful aliens that only strike a similar image - and that also brings a few narrative dangers along with it, after all, it was in greek mythological stories that the concept of Deus Ex Machina first appeared. Heinberg's screenplay, though, makes a few clever twists in that mythology to avoid easy solutions, which adds to the storytelling, the world building and the developing of the themes as well. The lore surrounding the God of War Ares, for example, is not a simple Diabolus Ex Machina as "he influences men to war and if you kill him every man goes back to being good and everything's alright", no, it's more narratively complicated and socially engaging than that.
And Gal Gadot... I'm at a loss for words. I'll confess right here that when she was first announced as Wonder Woman, I was one of the few who were very opposed to that casting. I've never been so wrong in my life, and I've never been so happy about it. She really is Wonder Woman. She's so graceful and adorable, but a major badass when she needs to be. The way she moves, the way she curiously looks at things, the way she speaks, and the way she incarnates Diana's evolving from her naive beginnings to the wise warrior... She's not only an icon, she's a true hero. Comparisons to Christopher Reeve's Superman were made for good reasons.
Chris Pine is also great, he walks perfectly in the line between funny and serious, Steve Trevor is a darling character and his chemistry with Gal is on point. Their relationship is very well constructed and becomes highly emotional by the end - there are scenes that filled my heart with joy, and others that made it ache.
The action is exciting and full of originality, and I like how Jenkins uses slow-motion differently than Zack Snyder. I know that Snyder helped her direct some of the action sequences, which is understandable since Jenkins had no experience with this type of movie, but you can tell it's not the same. In the fights themselves, there's this feel of sensibility to how these people react to Diana, and it's slightly different from the typical "regular people react to superhumans among them" trope. The cinematography is very keen on portraying the difference between Themyscira - an island of colors and natural beauty - and "jolly ol' London" - desaturated and smoggy, a scenario in which Diana's colorful armor shines in a most beautiful contrast.
And the soundtrack. Rupert Gregson-Williams made a beautiful score that brings out the best in every scene. It's heroic, very heartfelt, and loyal to the foundations of what makes superhero music so memorable. Gregson-Williams adds new themes to compose Wonder Woman's musical identity, but Hans Zimmer's main theme from BVS still lives, and it plays in some heart-pounding scenes. I love that they're dedicating that much attention to the musical continuity, because amongst Marvel's many qualities, they're doing a lousy job in that area. Wonder Woman's theme is the most catchy superhero theme in a long time, it quickly gained a lot of appreciation and by continuing on using it, Gregson-Williams collaborates to making Wonder Woman the strong cinematic icon she's setting out to be.
The irregular reception of previous DCEU movies also extols the impact of Wonder Woman, as do the distinct styles between the films. One of the DCEU's biggest virtues is that singularity of each film; be it a near disaster movie epic such as Man Of Steel, a complex deconstruction of heroic values such as Batman v Superman, an stylish chaos such as Suicide Squad or a traditional, graceful superhero film such as Wonder Woman, these movies are all in the same universe, and that very fact is an example of its richness. A lot of people will think Wonder Woman is the best DCEU movie of the lot, some will stick to BVS, others to MOS, maybe for some it's Shazam, but that's the fun of it: we can discuss this forever. Each of these movies mean different things to different people, we're way past simply labelling one as "better" and the other as "worse".
Wonder Woman, however, is not simply a movie about a very strong woman. It's an achievement for every woman. There were tons of girls dressed up as Wonder Woman in the theater, and just seeing how ecstatic they were after the movie brought me joy. There were tons of applause. It's a mark. Be that as it may, Wonder Woman will be remembered as the most impactful superhero film of its time. In 1978, Superman showed to the world how a man could fly; in 2017, Wonder Woman showed to the world how a woman can fight.
Honestly, I don't know how anyone could even consider that there was the slightest chance of this movie not being good, and I'm gonna tell you why: this is the very first big female-led superhero movie, in which the title character also happens to be the greatest female superhero in history. If you really think that Patty Jenkins, also the first woman to ever direct a superhero movie of this caliber in a industry where women barely stand any chances to get to direct major blockbusters, would let this movie be anything less than great... You've got another thing coming, mate.
Wonder Woman is a traditional, oldschool superhero movie, but the first essentially feminist one at it, and they couldn't have chosen a better setting to tell this story, or a better character to star in it. The movie's social comments are strong and constantly present, but never forced, because it is only natural: by placing Diana, a princess raised in an island of warrior women, in the middle of the reality of World War I, the absurdities of the feminine role in the world - and so many other human corruptions - automatically come to light. The way Diana reacts to this world raises a great sense of awareness, with a touch of poignant humor to it. There is a very funny subtle arc of her wanting to take out her cloak, but not being able to because her armor is "barely any clothes", hinting not only at society's sexist feminine dressing code - which is still a thing today -, but also gradually adding power to the iconography of Wonder Woman in full costume; this is Wonder Woman's much awaited debut on the big screen in a solo movie, and like Superman and Batman before her, her first appearance needed to be something incredibly striking. Patty knew that, Gal knew that, and they made it happen. Even if we already saw her in BVS, the very first time Wonder Woman walks up in full costume here is undoubtedly one of the most iconic moments in superhero cinema.
Jenkins is extremely devoted to giving Wonder Woman the iconic debut film she deserves, and she nails it - there's quite a bit of remarkable shots and set pieces that let out the same imagetic power as in Donner's Superman, Burton's Batman or even Raimi's Spider-Man, and I must highlight the No Man's Land sequence. It's my favorite part of the movie; Jenkins and Heinberg carefully work on Diana's mindset as she first witness the horrors of human war, not being able to help everyone, horses being hurt so they can move faster, a mother and a child begging for help, and it all leads up to the powerful moment of a woman crossing the land no man could cross - and Heinberg's dialogue doesn't rely on obvious statements such as "fortunately I'm a woman" (I'm looking at you, Batwoman trailer), it simply lets the image strike us, because it is powerful enough by itself, and boy did that cause some serious goosebumps.
Speaking of dialogue... It's so terrific, so well written. The exchanges between Diana and Steve Trevor are very clever and funny, but most of all natural. All the characters are also extremely likable; Allan Heinberg's writing knows that not all of them can be given deep development, but nonetheless he gives them stories, personalities and purposes, and that - plus the charismatic performances - makes them very empathetic. The villains are not as remarkable as in some of the other DCEU films, but they didn't need to be; the movie doesn't require in-depth arcs from its villains. They have a strong presence when they're in scene and a well elaborated lore, and that's everything they need.
Contrary to the Nordic mythology depicted in the MCU, here we are talking about real gods, true deities, not superpowerful aliens that only strike a similar image - and that also brings a few narrative dangers along with it, after all, it was in greek mythological stories that the concept of Deus Ex Machina first appeared. Heinberg's screenplay, though, makes a few clever twists in that mythology to avoid easy solutions, which adds to the storytelling, the world building and the developing of the themes as well. The lore surrounding the God of War Ares, for example, is not a simple Diabolus Ex Machina as "he influences men to war and if you kill him every man goes back to being good and everything's alright", no, it's more narratively complicated and socially engaging than that.
And Gal Gadot... I'm at a loss for words. I'll confess right here that when she was first announced as Wonder Woman, I was one of the few who were very opposed to that casting. I've never been so wrong in my life, and I've never been so happy about it. She really is Wonder Woman. She's so graceful and adorable, but a major badass when she needs to be. The way she moves, the way she curiously looks at things, the way she speaks, and the way she incarnates Diana's evolving from her naive beginnings to the wise warrior... She's not only an icon, she's a true hero. Comparisons to Christopher Reeve's Superman were made for good reasons.
Chris Pine is also great, he walks perfectly in the line between funny and serious, Steve Trevor is a darling character and his chemistry with Gal is on point. Their relationship is very well constructed and becomes highly emotional by the end - there are scenes that filled my heart with joy, and others that made it ache.
The action is exciting and full of originality, and I like how Jenkins uses slow-motion differently than Zack Snyder. I know that Snyder helped her direct some of the action sequences, which is understandable since Jenkins had no experience with this type of movie, but you can tell it's not the same. In the fights themselves, there's this feel of sensibility to how these people react to Diana, and it's slightly different from the typical "regular people react to superhumans among them" trope. The cinematography is very keen on portraying the difference between Themyscira - an island of colors and natural beauty - and "jolly ol' London" - desaturated and smoggy, a scenario in which Diana's colorful armor shines in a most beautiful contrast.
And the soundtrack. Rupert Gregson-Williams made a beautiful score that brings out the best in every scene. It's heroic, very heartfelt, and loyal to the foundations of what makes superhero music so memorable. Gregson-Williams adds new themes to compose Wonder Woman's musical identity, but Hans Zimmer's main theme from BVS still lives, and it plays in some heart-pounding scenes. I love that they're dedicating that much attention to the musical continuity, because amongst Marvel's many qualities, they're doing a lousy job in that area. Wonder Woman's theme is the most catchy superhero theme in a long time, it quickly gained a lot of appreciation and by continuing on using it, Gregson-Williams collaborates to making Wonder Woman the strong cinematic icon she's setting out to be.
The irregular reception of previous DCEU movies also extols the impact of Wonder Woman, as do the distinct styles between the films. One of the DCEU's biggest virtues is that singularity of each film; be it a near disaster movie epic such as Man Of Steel, a complex deconstruction of heroic values such as Batman v Superman, an stylish chaos such as Suicide Squad or a traditional, graceful superhero film such as Wonder Woman, these movies are all in the same universe, and that very fact is an example of its richness. A lot of people will think Wonder Woman is the best DCEU movie of the lot, some will stick to BVS, others to MOS, maybe for some it's Shazam, but that's the fun of it: we can discuss this forever. Each of these movies mean different things to different people, we're way past simply labelling one as "better" and the other as "worse".
Wonder Woman, however, is not simply a movie about a very strong woman. It's an achievement for every woman. There were tons of girls dressed up as Wonder Woman in the theater, and just seeing how ecstatic they were after the movie brought me joy. There were tons of applause. It's a mark. Be that as it may, Wonder Woman will be remembered as the most impactful superhero film of its time. In 1978, Superman showed to the world how a man could fly; in 2017, Wonder Woman showed to the world how a woman can fight.