The Secret Museum

Neal Stephenson on Slashdot

The best "self-defense means" when you are surrounded by a hundred million people of some other culture is to avoid dangerous places and figure out some way to get along with the folks around you.

The whole thing is more than worth reading. Jamais excerpted the hilarious Gibson-Stephenson smackdown portion on Worldchanging.

Farscape trailer!

OK, much too cool: the new Farscape trailer.

Was it too much to ask that in these ridiculous times, a person be allowed her shallow escapist smartly-written, acted, directed, designed--uh, SMART--space opera entertainment, without fear of senseless cancellation by evil corporate media executives?

Apparently.

But at least the fan uproar has resulted in four teeny little hours more of Farscape.

Trance To The Prisoner

Fun: Theme music from 60's cult show The Prisoner, including some modern mashups.

Now, where's Rover?

Peter Jackson and Ray Harryhausen

After seeing Jason and the Argonauts last Thursday, Margaret and I were discussing the demise of Dynamation-style effects—that is, aside from the occasional homage to Jason's fighting skeletons, such as Sam Raimi's Army of Darkness, and the second Spy Kids movie (I only saw the preview, I swear).

We agreed, though, that Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings Ents were quite Harryhausenesque. Was this intentional?

Today I googled up the following from a post-Fellowship intervew with Jackson:

I've had a lifelong passion to make a fantasy adventure film, because when I was younger I loved Ray Harryhausen's movies, as well as stuff like Jason and the Argonauts, and the original King Kong. I've always had a desire to make one of those fantasy adventure type films, and they don't do those movies much any more.

Peculiarly satisfying to think that Jackson, inspired by Harryhausen, has carried on the latter's visual style in the movies, and now is remaking King Kong—which was the movie that inspired Harryhausen to go into special effects.

I have a soft spot for the scenes in The Two Towers where the Ents destroy Isengard–really, they are right out of a playbook for Glen Canyon monkeywrenchers.

All this for $10.00

Last night: Complete, unabashed fun. Margaret and I attended a showing of a restored print of the stop-motion (or Dynamation) classic, Jason and the Argonauts at the Walter Reade, with an appearance by the special effects master, Ray Harryhausen.

It was astonishing to be in an auditorium full of other people who love this stuff as much as I do—that old science fiction/fantasy persecution complex, I guess—and satisfying to give Mr. Harryhausen the standing ovations he has earned.

I imagined I could feel the relief as each of us sank into our seats to watch this battered classic with a combination of childhood nostalgia and adult appreciation of craft. I'm not wistful about my childhood; I remember how I escaped into movies like Jason. It felt the same way last night, ducking out for a few hours from the U.S. political mess, the post 9/11 city, and the hardships of the economic bust, into this charming, dated fantasy land.

(Having attended a preview of Troy earlier in the week, I will say that male pulchritude in the B movies has really improved since the mid-60's.)

Harryhausen gave a Q&A after the screening, mentioning that he'd been talking with Peter Jackson about the latter's King Kong remake. He was gracious, saying that he was sure Jackson would bring a unique, talented and worthy vision to the endeavor. Still, he observed, "there's only one Kong. You can't remake innocence."

Harryhausen showed off two original Dynamation models: one of the fighting skeletons from Jason ("That's a Spanish pickle fork. The original sword got lost."), and Medusa from Clash of the Titans. Happy sighs from the audience.

To my left, a young hip creative type in muttonchops and his girlfriend were curled up together, beaming. He'd gotten a question in early on.

Ending the Q&A, Richard Pena, Program Director of the Film Society of Lincoln Center, introduced Kathryn Crosby, sitting in the audience towards the back of the auditorium. More delight and applause. As Kathryn Grant, she played Princess Parisa in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, spending most of the movie shrunk down to Barbie-doll size. She looked great. As the event broke up, she made her way down to the stage, where she chatted with Harryhausen and helped him wrap up Medusa.

If you missed this, there's another chance: Harryhausen and Jason will appear again in the NYC area, on Friday May 14, as part of the 3rd Annual Sci Fi & Fantasy Film Weekend at Loew's Jersey City.

A swift tilt

"I once asked L'Engle to define 'science fiction.' She replied, 'Isn't everything?'"

- "The Storyteller: Fact, fiction, and the books of Madeleine L'Engle," by Cynthia Zarin, The New Yorker, April 12, 2004

Oscar Fantasy

I am giddily obsessed with the Oscar race this year. Will a fantasy film--The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, natch--actually win Best Director or Best Picture?

Most of the sf/fantasy folks I know--editors, a copy reader, a writer or two, some very dedicated readers of the stuff--could care less about this, and I don't count any truly obsessed LoTR trilogy fans in my circle of friends. Why does it fascinate me?

Maybe it's the standard underdog pov of the sf/fantasy fan. Vindication, at last!

Maybe it will just be fun to have a film involving wizards, magic, halflings, ents, and elves win an Oscar, and to watch hobbitty New Zealander Peter Jackson triumph amidst all the botox'd, siliconed, glazed-to-perfection Hollywood royalty.

Maybe I just need something fun to think about.

Day of the Ents

The Director Looms: Question and answer session with cast members and director of "Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King." Left to right, the backs of: Richard Pena (Film Society of Lincoln Center), Bernard Hill, Elijah Wood, Andy Serkis, Sean Astin. On screen: Peter Jackson. January 10, 2004. Photo by Emily Gertz.

Last Saturday I went to a screening of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy, held in Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center. Highlights of the day were appearances by various cast members to introduce each film, and a Q&A with the actors and director Peter Jackson (via video link from New Zealand) after the final movie.

I enjoyed myself immensely, and it was an interesting cultural experience. The audience was very enthusiastic; a different energy from going to the "regular" movies. Maybe attending a marathon like this is the sf/fantasy fan's equivalent of coming out of the closet.

I spied several instances of commemorative jewelry being worn (Arwen's pendant; the elvish leaf pins; The Ring on The Chain); a woman in a t-shirt saying "Frodo Lives" that looked like an actual 1970s artifact; and, a small group of girls dressed in cloaks and other Ringish garments. I think they were pre- or early teens, and terribly cute.

The audience broke into applause at particularly moving or effects-a-licious moments. Legolas grabbing the bridle and swinging up onto that galloping horse, or free-climbing up the side of an oliphaunt--all right, elf!.

I chatted with a woman who had seen the films nearly 25 times (that's three films seen in varying amounts, not 25 times per film). She explained that the books and movies were so engrossing, she loved the story of the quest, the friendships...I really wanted to understand her pov but couldn't quite draw her out. A college kid told me that he wanted to be part of the biggest cultural experience since Star Wars, which came out before he was born. Ulp! I was 13 when Star Wars opened!

I'm not deeply into Tolkien, but love the intelligence, talent, and skill brought to these movies. Jackson respects the material--not a feeling I get from most current science fiction or fantasy films, which seem more about ripping the ten-dollar bill out of my pocket.

And, it's a relief to have a metaphorical vehicle for thinking about war, peace, loss, ultimate evil and misguided leaders, for a short while, in the cozy darkness.

Science Fiction Movies

Made it to "Avalon," last night, at the Film Society of Lincoln Center's sf film fest.

It is interesting to get a look at a recent sf film made outside the U.S. (Japanese-produced, shot in Poland).

However, it was not a very successful movie--the philosophical implications of the story were not well explored (woman living dingy life only thrives when she's playing a Warrior in an immersive VR game...but has she even left the game...and is there an ultimate top level for the best players...etc.), and apparently the director, Mamoru "Ghost In the Shell" Oshii, told the lead actress to play her part free of pesky little acting cliches like conveying emotional depth.

Still, the look was beautiful--Warsaw, in creamy sepia tones--and made the whole thing worth seeing.

Two days ago, the festival screened the full 4 hour, 40 minute cut of Wim Wenders' "Until the End of the World." UtEotW made a huge impression on me when I first saw it around 1993, with its' subtle futurism, environmentalist content, great score, and multi-continental cinematography. This director's cut rarely screens in the U.S.

Did it add a lot to see it? Yes, and no. The relationships between the characters become much clearer, there's more music, and the plot hangs together more coherently. The extra time also gives Wenders the opportunity to drive ideas home with a sledgehammer where they had once been more gently implied or inferred.

Probably the best part of this extended version comes in part three, where something that happened very abruptly in the original U.S. version is developed much more:

The film's characters, some of them pursuing opposing goals during the entire film, are now stuck together in an isolated Australian Aboriginal cultural center, waiting to find out if the world beyond has survived the atmospheric destruction of a nuclear satellite. No electronics have survived the electro-magnetic pulse of the explosion; there are no radios, tvs, video screens, phones.

A set of drums turns up. Then an old piano. One guy (the private detective, of course!) has a harmonica. One man starts teaching another to make and play a digeridoo.

A couple men begin to play instruments together to entertain themselves; then another joins, and another, practicing amongst the rocks in front of giggling children. It culminates on New Year's Eve 1999 in a glorious jam session, led by the singing of Claire, the woman around whom they've all been vying for love, money, information or recognition. Everyone has shaken off their animosities, the haze of passively consuming entertainment in isolated spaces, to make music together in the middle of one of the amazing landscape.