The New World of TV and Film

SPOILERS: A couple of things for the first four seasons of 24

Writing about the first season finale of Battlestar Galactica, I started to explore the idea that TV has supplanted film as the premier visual storytelling medium. The thing that really prompted me to address this is that so many TV shows are hailed for being "more like a movie than a TV show," with seasons made up of a bunch of "little movies." However, the way things have gone, saying that a TV show is like a movie isn't so much of a compliment, I think we've reached the point where the best movies should be hailed for their TV series like complexity.

Now, the thing about evaluating television is the fact that everything on it is grouped into one catergory. So, you get a lot of people who look down on TV, witness the classic Onion article: Area Man Constantly Mentioning He Doesn't Own a Television." Yes, the vast majority of stuff shown on TV is crap, but saying you won't watch television because of reality TV is like saying that you won't read a book because of The National Enquirer.

That said, I think peoples' perceptions are changing. The most important development in affecting peoples' view of television has been the start of TV on DVD. I remember back when the first season of The X-Files was coming out, it was this completely unprecedented thing, that you could easily go back and review the series in order, without having to tape episodes and wait for each episode to air. It's a lot easier for people to appreciate a series without the commercials and seeing everything in sequence.

Concurrent with this was the rise of the internet, which made it a lot easier to keep track of series and find other fans to talk about stuff with. The internet is much more suited to television than film because TV series have a lot more content, and on top of that, there's speculation about the future of the series to talk about. I have no data to support this, but I think reading internet reaction to shows changed the way producers perceive the audience. If you're not getting any real feedback, it would be tough to tell how much of the show people really did remember, but when the fans are calling the producers of the show on continuity mistakes, it becomes clear that fans are able to keep up with even the most continuity intensive plot lines.

Twin Peaks was a critical innovator in bringing an unprecedented artistry and style to television. Following that was The X-Files, which effectively shows the world of TV in transition. On the one hand, it's a standalone procedural series, you can tune into most episodes and get everything you need to know from the hour. However, with the mythology arc, the show engaged in an extended, longform story that took roughly 60 episodes to complete, many dependent on your knowledge of what happened in earlier seasons to understand.

And at the end of the 90s, two shows emerged that forever changed television: The Sopranos and 24. The Sopranos was notable for many reasons, for one it started the pay cable original series trend. This was a show that fully exploited its freedom from network censorship, with all kinds of violence and sex.

However, the greater impact was that the show was just so good, even people who usually dismissed TV had to take notice of it. The Sopranos completely raised the bar on what was possible to do on TV, and other shows struggled to catch up. It was also one of the first shows to consistnetly present a morally ambiguous universe. Our hero made a lot of bad decisions, you don't like him, it's more that you're fascinated by him. If previous TV shows used their characters as an idealized alternate family for the viewer, The Sopranos was one where you love to watch Tony, but have no desire to run into him in real life.

24 brought a lot of what The Sopranos did to network TV, and thus democratized it. HBO's whole slogan was "It's not TV. It's HBO," which appealed to those people who considered themselves above television. 24 showed that a network show could do extreme serialization and still be successful. This is a show where you don't miss an episode, you're either watching the whole day or you're not watching, and that was a new way for network shows to work.

The other change was to bring the morally ambiguous hero to network TV. I think TV changed forever with the second season premiere, when Jack asked for a hacksaw to cut the head off a man he'd just killed. Jack was a guy who didn't care if you didn't like him, he was going to do whatever it took to acheive his goals. And as part of the stories, you frequently saw problems with no easy solution, where Jack would make a huge sacrifice to get something done. Witness the killing of Chapelle in year three, or the Paul Raines vs. terrorist emergency room scene in year four.

Many shows since have taken on the violence and anything could happen feel of 24. Battlestar, particularly in the miniseries, does a lot of those no easy choice decisions. The scene with Roslin leaving the little girl behind to die would not have happened if 24 didn't exist.

And both series are examples of longform storytelling. On The Sopranos, there's almost always a followup on what happened the previous week, and when there's not, we know that it's still affected Tony. Everything that happens is part of these characters' lives and factors in the way they live. So, the TV series became less a bunch of episodes and more one longform work, broken into chapters, rather than just a bunch of episodes.

So, while all this was happening we've seen people talking about the artistic bankruptcy of Hollywood filmmaking. When a movie like Crash wins best picture, it's clear something's wrong with Hollywood's definition of quality. This has prompted people to lament the fact that Hollywood has fallen so far from its creative golden age in the 70s (including me). And I would stand by the idea that the American film scene is nowhere near as exciting or innovative as it was in the 70s.

But, looking at the situation, I realized that in thirty years, they're going to talk about today's TV like they're talking about the films of the 70s. What are the similarities? For one, both eras came about as a result of the easing of standards. It's mindboggling to think that into the 60s, the production code was still strictly regulating the content of films, and for a long while, those same standards were held on television. The emergence of cable shows has completely changed the game, allowing for shows that have even greater boundaries than most film, and even on the networks, there's room for a lot more sexuality and violence than would have been possible earlier. There may be some groups trying to stop that, but for the most part, there's more room for developing stories than there was before.

What was the other big development of the 70s? Auteur filmmaking, and on TV we're beginning to see the emergence of a class of auteur showrunners, who have near total control over the content and direction of their series. Because shows became more longform, the guiding hand of the showrunner became more apparent. In the 70s, filmmakers were given a lot more freedom to do what they wanted without studio interference. With TV, it seems like most of the showrunners are being given a free hand to do what they want now, certainly more than filmmakers today. The reason for this is if your show gets high ratings, you've basically proven that what you're doing works. So, the network has no reason to mess with it.

Obviously, some people have more autonomy than others, but I get the feeling that David Chase has become the Kubrick of television, doing whatever he wants whenever he wants it. If Chase was doing a film, there's no way he'd have the autonomy that he does on The Sopranos because there'd be no guarantee that it'd be successful. People aren't watching The Sopranos for David Chase, they're watching it for Tony and his family. Like in film, very few TV people have become brands unto themselves, Joss Whedon is probably the most notable example, though his fanbase clearly wasn't large enough to support a show on its own.

But as long as you stick with the main show, you can do whatever you want. Chase may take heat for his dream sequences, but people are still watching the show. TV gives you the ability to experiment with an almost guaranteed audience, and the critical reason why that's possible is the emotional connection to the characters. David Lynch's most abstract work is in the last episode of Twin Peaks, a piece that can simultaneously be completely symbolic and abstract, and still be emotionally affecting. Because we know the character so well, when Cooper goes through the lodge world, we don't watch with a detached perspective, we're on that journey with him. Similarly, Joss Whedon's experimental episodes, notably Restless and Once More With Feeling, work because of what we know about the characters. If he was to just write an original musical, it'd probably be good, but in combining the musical with the existing TV universe, it becomes great.

Over the past few years, as I've watched a whole bunch of fantastic longform TV shows, I've also become increasingly disenchanted with traditional Hollywood films. The depth and nuance of the characters on a Buffy or Six Feet Under makes the plot-serving people in most films seem utterly contrived. Compare Firefly the show to Serenity the film. In Firefly you've got a large ensemble cast of people, all doing their own thing, living their lives as the show goes along. Sometimes big stuff happens to them, sometimes they just coast. And even though Mal may be the leader, everyone has an equally interesting and developed life.

In Serenity, Mal is clearly front and center, and a lot of the supporting cast is defined by just one trait. They all have their own little goals, and they're so resolutely focused on them. It's the necessity of the film to fit everyone into an arc, and Whedon does an admirable job of it, but it feels contrived. Compare the tentative dance of the developing relationship between Simon and Kaylee in the show to the very clear she wants this guy arc in the movie. In the film, that goal is her sole characteristic, the thing that defines her. In the film, you get a much clearer main character/supporting cast divide, whereas the genius of Buffy was that we got just as much insight into Xander or Willow as we did into Buffy. The main character is usually the least interesting, Han Solo trumps Luke Skywalker and Willow or Xander trumped Buffy. But if Buffy were a movie, even one true to Joss' vision, Xander and Willow would have been little more than one note comic relief, and Buffy herself would never have the depth that she did on the series.

Up until recently, most TV people talked about using it as a way to get into films. David Chase made it clear that he'd rather be in films and Joss did as well. Recently, Chase seems to be acknowledging that what he's done in TV goes beyond what could be done in a film. Alan Ball also made it clear that Six Feet Under was his greatest creative achievement, and he's already jumped back in to work on a new pilot for HBO.

Joss remains pointed towards features, and that's not something I'm thrilled with. I would guess part of that is the fact that his two most recent shows were cancelled, but I'd rather see him try to get a pilot on HBO than go forward with Wonder Woman. I'm sure personally it's a terrible grind doing a series, but creatively, Buffy or Angel make nearly every feature film ever made pale in comparison.

The way I see it now, TV has raised the bar for film to a different level. Serenity is a perfectly entertaining movie, a well told story, but that's all it is. Compared to Joss' TV work, it's pretty insignificant. The films I'm most interested in seeing now are the ones that do what TV cannot, namely focus on style and the art of filmmaking. TV, for all its merits, still suffers from the fact that it must be filmed so quickly. Even the best directors can't make every shot great when you're shooting an episode in eight days.

What films can do is make those perfectly constructed, really artistic pieces. Wong Kar-Wai is a perfect example of this, a guy who creates films where each image is a beautiful work of art unto itself, films that are more an atmosphere, a feeling than a story. I want films that you get lost in.

That's not to say you can't still make a good film that's a straightforward narrative, just you have to raise the bar. Magnolia is an example of a film that is simultaneously a wonderful piece of visual/sonic fusion and also creates characters with a depth of a long running TV series. It's a movie I would say is more like TV than cinema and mean it as a great compliment.

And finally, much like the creators of the show, a lot of TV actors used to see it primarily as a stepping stone to films. So, Sarah Michelle Gellar left Buffy for the "greener pastures" of cinema. Now, from a money and time point of view, film is much better for an actor than TV, but from an artistic perspective, the best TV shows offer actors so much more than films.

As Buffy, Gellar got to do everything, from really broad comedy to painful drama, often within the same episode. Watching her in The Grudge, she didn't even have a character. She was just a person who stood there while stuff popped out. I think she spent more time promoting The Grudge than she did actually acting in it.

For an actor, doing a TV show is a risk. You could end up in a show that fails, which would tarnish your reputation and hurt your chances of getting future film roles. Or you could end up on a show that gets enough ratings to keep going, but no buzz. The actors in Lost may get written about now, but come season six, will anyone still care? And more importantly, you'd be past your prime and thus unlikely to get any good parts once the show finishes. And even in the best of cases, you're still stuck in one role for many years.

However, the best shows give actors possibilities they would never have in a film. James Gandolfini is a prime example, this is a guy who's been in a bunch of movies, supporting roles. Then he does The Sopranos and creates one of the most compelling characters ever seen. Alyson Hannigan is another prime example, seeing her in something like Date Movie is painful because on Buffy she showed such varied potential, and post Buffy she's just doing one type of role.

In a lot of cases, the acting on these shows is so good, people forget that these people aren't just playing themselves. I was shocked when I heard James Marsters or Alexis Denisof's actual speaking voices, you completely believe that they're British. Same thing with Gandolfini in the two most recent Sopranos episodes, it's not until you're aware that this is in fact a performance that you can appreciate what they're doing. This is where the fear of typecasting comes in. When someone is so good, it becomes tough to see them in another kind of role. I've talked to multiple people who were really surprised to learn that neither Michael C. Hall or Matthew St. Patrick were actually gay.

Ultimately, I feel like this is what real acting is about, totally becoming a character. The Academy Awards usually award showy performances, where the performance is an attraction in and of itself. It's like special effects, the Academy is going to award the shot that makes you go "whoa, that was an awesome effect," whereas the best effects are the ones you don't even know are there. And that's the best kind of acting. You never say, "wow, Peter Krause is great as Nate," you only see Nate.

So, what's the conclusion? Basically that the most exciting and innovative storytelling right now is happening in TV. If I had the choice between having the chance to make a big studio movie or an HBO series, I'd go with the series, and an increasing number of creative people are making that choice as well. We've been so conditioned to think that two hours is the time that a story must be told in, it's liberating to have the chance to see something that goes into more depth. Conventional wisdom holds that The Godfather is one of the top five movies of all time, and if The Sopranos does everything The Godfather does and goes way beyond it, doesn't that mean that The Sopranos is better than any movie ever made?

Big Love (1x01-1x02)

At this point, HBO's got such a good track history that I'll at least sample anything they put on. Combine that with an intriuging premise and a great cast, and Big Love was a must sample show for me.

The first thing that's striking about the show is the opening credits sequence. It's a great looking sequence that does a nice job of setting up the show's basic plot, all set to one of the greatest songs ever, "God Only Knows." However, I'm a bit uneasy about the choice of theme song. Obviously it's a great song, but I feel like it's a song you have to earn. Watch Boogie Nights and you see two and a half hours of growth for the characters, and by the end of that journey, they've earned the right to use "God Only Knows." To have it as your opening credits feels wrong somehow.

But, looking at the names in the credits took my mind off that. We've got Bill Paxton, a pretty big caliber actor for a TV show, but what got my attention was two Twin Peaks veterans, Grace Zabriskie and Harry Dean Stanton. On top of that, there's PT Anderson regular Melora Walters, who created one of my favorite film characters with Magnolia's Claudia. And then there's Chloe Sevigny, who's been great in countless indie films. On top of that, we've got Lily Kane and Mac from Veronica Mars. So, that's a nice bunch right there.

The show itself has an odd feeling, largely because the world it's depicting is so close to ours, but at the same time off. The two best HBO shows, Six Feet Under and The Sopranos, used this same basic idea, an ordinary family but with a twist. However, in the case of Big Love, the family isn't ordinary. The sort of conflicts they've got aren't common things, and I think that's the biggest issue with the show. They have problems that are really specific to the world of polygamy, and it's hard to empathize with their issues.

The genius of SFU and The Sopranos was that its setting, either the mob or the funeral home, raises the stakes on ordinary problems. So, trouble at work for Tony could mean coming home dead, but here there's no large stakes, it's all very small scale, petty problems. The biggest issue is the jealousy between the wives, all competing for Bill's attention. The problem with this is that so far we've got no sense of who Bill is. All he does is have sex with his wives. The life he leads seems to be almost hellish, constantly being asked for stuff, walking around a zoo of kids that he seems to have no relationship with.

It's always a problem to have too many kids on a show, and here we've got a whole bunch who seem to be there just because, and that takes away from the sense of any core family. Everyone's so busy running around doing their stuff that we never get the sense that these people actually like each other. And the way the show plays, it's like this is a co-operative family, and other than Barbara, his wives come off more as his children than as spouses.

I think that's partially a problem of just dumping us into the story with no real background. We get a sense of Bill and Barbara having a real, loving marriage, and the other wives seems superfluous. It's implied that when Barbara couldn't have any more kids, she allowed him to take Nikki as a wife, but I'd like to explore those issues more, how did they come to live this life? I can understand the desire to get right into the action, but I think that's such an essential part of their lives that we need to know it.

There was an episode of Six Feet Under with Daddy, a guy with a polygamist family, and there you got the sense of them as a functioning cooperative, you could understand why someone would choose to live that way. You don't get that here, it just seems like a really awful arrangement. That's because the show doesn't give anyone a moment of downtime, a moment to show why they're living this life in the first place.

In films, there's a big emphasis on characters acheiving their goals. For a movie, this is usually a fairly concrete goal, like beating the bad guy or winning a game. In a TV show, you need a more extistential goal, something that can carry your character through the whole series. So, for Buffy, the goal is to have the opportunity to live a normal life and not be a slayer. That's the thing that keeps the narrative moving forward, that all the character development is in reaction to.

For Six Feet Under, it's Nate's search for meaning in life that makes the show more than just a soap opera. There's something deeper underlying Nate's decisions than just the fact that another episode had to happen. My favorite arcs on that show are Nate's, Brenda's and Claire's, because all three characters have a deep struggle to find meaning for themselves that overwhelms any of the personal conflict they go through along the way. Compare that to David who has much more limited aspirations, and by extension, the most consistently soap operatic plot lines.

The problem with Big Love is that no one seems to have any ultimate goals. The issues with the compound provide some conflict, but I get no sense of an ultimate direction for the series. Implicitly there's the question of whether the family can survive, but that's not really the sort of thing that can make for a fulfilling series in the long term. So, without this overall goal, the series can fall prey to the worst of soap opera, decisions that come out of a need to just do another episode rather than out of logical character development.

The one character who does have a lot of interesting issues is Barbara. She's clearly very ambivalent about being in this family. She loves Bill, but doesn't seem to want to play mother to not just her family, but also the two other wives. She's not as into the doctrine as the others, and if Bill views her as his real wife, would everything collapse if she were to leave the family unit?

The other interesting arc is the story with Sarah and her Mormon friend at the restaurant. She's another person who's in an ambiguous position with regards to the family, and there's a lot of potential in further exploring her feelings about the way she lives.

I think one of the problems is that the show has such a big cast, and with three wives to handle, it's tough to develop people. In the long term, this is probably good, but most shows usually start with a small core for a reason.

So, I'm going to give it a few more episodes, but so far I haven't been that impressed with the show. I need a better idea of what it's going to do on a week to week basis to get an idea of its overall quality.

Carrie

Earlier this week, I watched the documentary A Decade Under the Influence, which was all about the film culture of the 1970s, and this inspired me to check out Carrie, one of the 70s classics I hadn't seen yet. I'm not usually a fan of the horror genre, for the same reason that I'm not usually a fan of comedy either. The need to get a specific audience reaction, either a scare or a laugh, can upend logical narrative progression, and it also means that character and plot development can be sacrificed in favor of a bunch of cheap laughs or scares.

In some respects, you could say that all mainstream Hollywood films today suffer from this problem, the need to keep the audience's attention with frequent bits of action can screw up the construction of the film. But, Carrie hails from the era when studio films were more like art films, it's a horror film where the horror is secondary to the primary character conflict.

The best horror or sci-fi films are the ones where the genre elements are used in support of an emotionally real story. Carrie reminded me a lot of Buffy in the way that it used these horror elements to dramatize the very real problem of bullying in school. Watching it in a post Columbine era, it's striking how closely Carrie's story matches up with the arc of the killers in Elephant. It's the same basic story, it's just Carrie uses telekinesis rather than guns as her means of getting revenge.

Going in, I was familiar with the prom scene, and the fact that it was a horror film. So, it was striking how restrained the film's first hour or so is. The opening scene is very intense, not because of the TK, but because of the raw cruelty of the girls. The way the film is constructed, Carrie's TK is equated with her maturation into womanhood. Her first notable TK experience occurs at the same time as her first menstruation, and she has a similar lack of control over each. In the following scene, when Ms. Collins calms her down and tries to explain things to her, she finds control, but when the principal disrespects her, her TK acts up again.

It's notable that her mother is extremely disapproving of her development, both sexually and with the telekinesis. By equating each of these things with sin, Mrs. White is putting Carrie in an uncomfortable position. Things can't stay the way they are, even her mind wants to, her body won't allow it.

What's striking about the film is how economical it is. The first scene is so powerful that it tells us everything we need to know about Carrie's existence, and that allows us to skip most of the traditional exposition and get right into the central setpiece, the prom scene.

As someone who knew what was coming, the prom scene works for the same reason that all tragedy works. Carrie finally breaks from her mother's influence and takes what she wants. Tommy is a really kind, understanding guy and helps to bring her out of her shell. However, we know that this isn't the kind of movie where the girl has a good prom and then the film ends. Yet, as she's succeeding, you don't want things to go wrong.

This left me wondering whether the film would have worked if she hadn't been attacked and the film had just been the story of this girl who overcomes her bad mother and bullying classmates to succeed. It wouldn't have been as good a film, but I think it still would have worked because of the film's tone. If Carrie had turned out for the best, it still would have been a difficult road, she would have earned her happiness through her ordeals during the film, and that's what would keep her success from being cheesy.

However, as Joss Whedon said, you've got to give the audience what they need, not what they want, and the very fact that you're rooting for Carrie to succeed is what makes it essential that she go through pain. Clearly, DePalma is aware of the audience's feeling, because he draws out the moment before the blood falls, you're aware that everything is about to come crashing down, so Carrie's happiness becomes cruelly ironic. You're no longer happy with her, you're sad that she's come so far, only to fall.

And fall she does. At this point, DePalma does some interesting things. The first is the subjective laughing sequence. I think it's pretty clear that Carrie is exagerating the reaction in her mind, there's no way that Ms. Collins would actually laugh at her. Instead, it's her mother's conditioning coming back, implying that she couldn't possibly succeed and be happy. And this makes everything fall apart.

Carrie chooses to kill everyone in the prom because in her mind, everyone there is complicit in her torment, it's the social system that's at fault. Again, this is her mother's influence, bringing this fire and brimstone vengeance down on everyone around her. The scene is shot in a really interesting way, with split screen used to juxtapose Carrie's grim resolve with the violent excess going on around her. The world that created her will now be destroyed its own creation.

This scene is a classic for a reason. The image of the blood stained girl, her virginal white dress stained by the blood, which of course, echoes to the previous blood flow in the first scene of the film. It clearly taps into a primal desire for revenge that has become only more relevant as time has passed.

This is the emotional peak of the film, and even though the confrontation with her mother is interesting, everything after the prom scene feels somewhat irrelevant. It had to be there, but there's not much more that needs to be said after she leaves the gym.

There's a bunch of random, notable things about the film. The actress playing Carrie's mother is Piper Laurie, of Twin Peaks. Her hair looked the same, but her face looked completely different. If I hadn't known it was the same actress, I never would have guessed.

And the other notable thing is the 70s fashions. I think the content is timeless, but the clothes were not. Travolta's mullet, the really short shorts, the powder blue tuxedo, these do not hold up so well today. Still, they don't seem as dated as the awful early 90s clothes from Heathers.

So, Carrie was a great film, one of the best uses of the horror genre to tell a real, emotional story. This is what horror should be about, using a metaphor to explore an issue, rather than just random acts of violence.

The Sopranos: 'Mayham' (6x03)

I'm not sure if it's just that the show had been gone for so long, these episodes are like finding a lake in a desert, but this season of The Sopranos seems to have taken everything to a new level of complexity and intrigue, going beyond anything that's come before. This show was already one of the best in TV history, but each episode of the new season is so deep and emotionally involving, I can't remember a TV show ever being this good on an episode to episode basis. It's like Six Feet Under post Nate's collapse level of good, only we've still got seventeen to go.

There's a lot in the episode, but I'm going to start with Christopher's stuff, because this is the first episode where we really get an insight into where he is post Adrianna's death. Christopher's screenwriting arc in season two was my favorite thing the show ever did, in particular the Jon Favreau episode, so I'm really excited to see Christopher get back into the Hollywood game, only this time he's doing it through his mob connections. Obviously, there's a lot of comedy in the intersection between the mob and Hollywood, and I love the discussion of Cleaver, but the real meat of the storyline is in a couple of small moments.

The line that had me stunned was when Christopher is talking about the project and says "And he gets fucking payback on everyone who fucked him over, including the cunt he was engaged to, she was getting porked by his boss the night the hero was killed." The line tells us a lot about Chris, it's clear that he hasn't gotten over Adrianna. He still feels like she betrayed him, by talking to the feds. The animosity with which he's talking about her makes it clear that he did love her, and as far as we know, he hasn't gotten involved with anyone else since her death.

The issue that arises is whether he actually believes that she was having a relationship with Tony, or is using it as a justification to emotionally distance himself from her. Regardless, it's clear that he still has a lot of issues with what happened in "Sentimental Education." And if he still feels this way, that would clearly have a deep impact on his relationship with Tony.

The film is a personal fantasy for Christopher, in which he would have the opportunity to get back at everyone who's wronged him, to take control of his life rather than just drift down the stream. The very act of making the film represents a move by Christopher to reclaim some of his autonomy. He is too smart to be content just being a soldier, he needs to have something more, and seeing the way things are going, having a way out of mob life would clearly be something he'd want.

The scene where Christopher asks the mentally incoherent Tony for funding for his film is painful because he's basically ask Tony to pay for his way out of mob life, he's jumping ship while Tony is at basically the low point of his life. It's notable that the scene is played in virtually the same way as the Tony in a coma scenes were. The characters are talking to Tony, but it's really all about using this speech as a way to work out their own personal agendas. Christopher is rambling on even though Tony is not responding at all, he's all about himself, choosing Tony's lowest point as the time at which to do exactly what he told him not to right in the first episode.

The episode's primary narrative arc is the dissolution of the crew without Tony. Silvio is given the opportunity to step up and definitively claim the role of leader, however he is unable to manage things well, his indecisiveness culminating in his physical breakdown. In this episode, we get to see just how skilled Tony is at managing things. It's his authority that keeps them from being so petty and selfish, without him, everybody worries only himself and everything breaks down. The best example of this was Bobby asking Silvio why he didn't call him back as he's being wheeled into the ambulance. Hilarious and perfectly encapsulating the theme of the episode.



Watching this just a few days after the opening of Battlestar Galactica's second season, the similarities were striking. Silvio and Tigh have virtually the same arcs, second in command pushed up to the leader role they didn't want and end up failing miserably while their first is in a coma. Even their Lady MacBeth like wives are similar. It's unfortunate that there was such a lead time on these episodes, because this episode was likely finished before the Battlestar episodes even aired. It's the second time that a similarity like that has happened this season, the first was the striking similarities between 'Join the Club' and Six Feet Under's 'Ecotone.'

It's clear that Vito's moving into the primary aggressor role within the crew. He's going to be the one causing problems for Tony. Vito's family connection to Phil Leotardo is going to complicate things even more, because Tony won't have New York's backing in a conflict, and now that he's debilitated, he's basically powerless should Vito decide to make a move.

There were two other notable scenes for Vito in the episode. One was his final encounter with Carmela, where he feigns a polite, "anything I can do to help" front, but as the elevator closes, he's clearly not happy about parting with the 100 K. With Tony seemingly unable to function as acting boss, their loyalty will be tested. Are they still going to kick up to a boss who's got no physical muscle to back his rule?

The other big scene was Vito's encounter with Finn. It's pretty clear that this is going to eventually lead to something, since it's being continually stressed. If things do come to war between Tony and Vito, is Meadow going to step up and out Vito. That would basically destroy his credibility as a mob leader.

Looking at Meadow's role in these past few episodes, it's clear that she is becoming increasingly drawn into the world of the family. This is what Carmela is worried about, and even though AJ's outburst last week was the more showy, obvious concern, Meadow's constant presence at her father's side will likely not lessen once he's out of the coma. She'll have to take a larger role in support of the family if Tony is disabled, and this would mean putting off a job or internship that would get her out of their world.

This all ties back to her outburst at the end of season three, when she says there is no mafia, echoing Tony's words to her in "College." The more time she spends in his world, the more likely she is to never leave it. I'm not sure how Finn will fit in to all this, but if he's not happy at dental school, he'd probably be perfectly happy to freeload off Meadow's family.

It's also notable that Meadow is the one to finally draw Tony out of his coma. I was at first a bit surprised by how much Meadow was concerned and active in caring for her father. Obviously she's going to care, but it's clear that she's not at all ready to lose Tony, becoming more childlike in her pleas for "daddy" to come back. Throughout the series, Meadow is at times antagonistic, most notably during the Noah era in season three, furious at Tony's prejudice towards him. However, when he dumped her, it may have validated his words in her mind. Following that she does take his advice and date an Italian. Even though she's feuded with Carmela in recent years, she's been on good terms with Tony, and their bond is clearly huge for her. The question now is how big a role she'll take to protect his position within the mob family.

If her and Finn cross the line and out Vito, she'd be putting herself in a very dangerous position. In their world, an insult like that would not go unretaliated against, and considering the crew's declining reverence for the Soprano family, it's not inconceivable that Vito or Phil Leotardo could take action against her or Finn. Leotardo is clearly still mad at Tony for what Tony B. did to his brother, and killing a family member of his would, in his mind, be appropriate retaliation.

Stepping back from analysis, Edie Falco continues to do some of the best acting of all time. She's got such a wide range of material, and she totally becomes the character. For Carmela, this episode is all about realizing the potential negatives that arise from the convergence of the family around Tony. The scene with Melfi is a critical followup to the scene where she goes to her own therapist and he calls her on her hypocritical behavior.

Back then, Carmela tried to feign naivete about Tony's world, claiming that she wasn't a part of his illegal activities, she just put food on his table. Here, she's got no qualms about admitting that she's always had full knowledge of what Tony did, and that might even have been what attracted her to him in the first place. She recognizes that she didn't get tricked into this world, she chose it. I don't think Tony himself has claimed full responsibility for the life he leads, and if the Kevin Finnerty scenes are any indication, if he was able to escape the life he leads, he would be in no hurry to get back.

The scene where Carmela yells at AJ was brutal and magnificently acted. For Carmela, it is true that AJ has caused her a lot of problems, and at this moment of emotional weakness, she lets that out. How this will impact on him in future episodes is not clear, but unlike last season, AJ does not have the option to move out. He's stuck at home, at least until he makes enough money for his own place.

And after all that, we've still got the man himself, Tony, who continues his journey through the Kevin Finnerty reality. What started out as a nightmare is increasingly becoming an appealing reality for Tony, though he's stuck with the nagging feeling that he's losing his mind. Last week, the Finnerty reality seemed to function mainly as a limbo between life and death, with Tony losing his identity and by extension, his earthly attachments. Everything is leading up to the complete break from material reality and the return to the Finnerty family reunion.

However, Tony is no longer content to just sit around in the bar, he's now out investigating the new world he finds himself in. This is likely a function of Tony being in the coma for so long, he's becoming more comfortable in this mental realm, be it dream or purgatory, and is able to find new facets within it. I love the stuff with Tony questioning whether he really is becoming Finnerty. In a purely mental realm, perception is reality, so if people believe that he is Kevin Finnerty, for all intents and purposes, he is Finnerty.

When he talks to his wife, he's still putting off a return home, he'd rather continue to live as Finnerty and explore what's going on with him. So, becoming Finnerty is leaving the life he lead behind, and moving on to a new existence, which is apparently death.

The Finnerty family reunion is where all this culminates. If he was to go to the family reunion and be accepted as Kevin, that would mean that he had completely assimilated into this new life. However, Tony's real life is increasingly intruding into the fantasy. I'm not positive, but I believe that one of the Buddhist monks was the doctor treating him, and most notably the hilarious scene with Paulie's ranting intruding into his hotel room.

When he reaches the family reunion, Tony finds Steve Buscemi, who is credited as "Man." Tony doesn't recognize him, which I suppose indicates his disconnection from his life as the real Tony Soprano. For the audience, Buscemi would indicate that to enter the family reunion is to die, and head off to the ultimate family reunion. The thing that still perplexes me about the Costa Mesa sequence is why the 'Tony Soprano' of this world isn't the same Tony from the real world. I'm guessing that was meant to be the first stage of disconnection, he first invents a new life as Tony Soprano, then leaves that too.

So, even though he doesn't recognize Buscemi, on some level, he knows that he should not give up the briefcase, his "entire life," to him. Passing by the door of the hotel we see someone who looks like Livia, and Tony begins to hear Meadow's voice floating down through the trees. Her voice is heard as Costa Mesa Tony's daughter's voice, but gradually it turns into Meadow's. The Finnerty identity is punctured, reality comes pouring in and the fantasy collapses. As he returns to the real world, Tony asks if he's dead, signalling the extent of his mental trauma. His fantasy world fear about Alzheimers has come true in the real world.

And as we head into the next chunk of episodes, Tony looks like he's not in such a good shape. I'm really interested to see how a man who prides himself on being so in control and not feeling sorry for himself deals with this mental and physical dehibilitation. By shooting him, Junior has turned Tony into himself.

All this, and it's just one episode. This show is intellectually challenging, emotionally wrenching and on top of that, the funniest thing on TV right now. So far, I would say this has been the best season yet.

Battlestar Galactica: 2x04-2x07

These episodes resolve most of the plot strands from the first season cliffhangers, and more importantly, give us a bunch of new information on what the cylons are up to. After the slightly lackluster first couple of episodes, this chunk represents a return to form, with some of the best stuff the show's ever done.

My favorite stuff from the first two episodes was the happenings down on Caprica, as Starbuck and Helo encounter a new band of survivors. I was wondering what happened to all of the people who didn't make it off the planet, but survived the nuclear explosion and we find out here. All the humans on the planet are being mercilessly hunted, and the fact that cylons can look like humans mean that they're suspicious of everyone on the planet. This works in the cylons' favor because it means that the humans are likely to kill each other, not trusting any survivors.

In some ways, it was a bit cheesy to all of a sudden stumble across a whole bunch of survivors, but I think it worked, and Starbuck's relationship with Anders really went over for me. Lee is still something of a non-entity for me, even as Starbuck is becoming an increasingly developed and interesting character. In the two episodes that he appeared, Anders proved himself a worthy foil for Starbuck, and I'm looking forward to seeing what happens when Starbuck returns to Caprica to get him back.

"The Farm" saw the series again return to classic X-Files mythology territory, and it's the best episode other than the first season finale. I always love the prison that messes with your mind setup, and right from the beginning, I was thinking, and actually hoping, that Starbuck was at a cylon hospital. The first few episodes gave us no new information about the world of the cylons, but luckily this episode gives us a whole bunch.

The episode worked because it put Starbuck, a character who keeps her emotions closed and is dependent on always being in control of things, in a situation where she's got no control. She's physically weak, which means that even though she's suspicious there's nothing she can do to investigate. It's interesting that the cylons chose to attempt to break her down emotionally, creating the story about Anders' death. I'm not sure if it was an attempt to keep her weak, or rather a way to flatter her, saying that she's so strong that she survived where he died. Or it might just have been a ploy to keep her from asking to see him.

The birthing chamber wasn't as visually impressive as similar stuff from The X-Files, but I love the basic concept, and it confirms the idea that the cylons are trying to create hybrids. I love this kind of stuff, and I'm really interested in seeing more of the cylons' world and their plans as things progress. The end of this episode, where Sharon returns in one of the troop carriers and saves them was a great emotional moment, though there's still a lot of questions about where she went and why she chose now to return.

I suppose that ties into the overall cylon plan. I was under the impression that cylons could conceive children, the whole point of Helo's storyline in the first season seemed to be that they were using him to inseminate Sharon and create the hybrid. So, I'm not sure if the cylons had tried and failed to conceive before, and the success with Sharon was attributed to love because this was the first one that worked, or if this is some sort of miracle, that a being that shouldn't be capable of having children is having one.

Similarly, the events here raise a lot of issues about how the human cylons are grown in the first place. If they came up with twelve models, couldn't they just make more of those and populate the world that way? However, it seems that they're stuck at the twelve they've made and the only way to make new ones is to make cylon/human hybrids. If the cylon women are capable of having children, then I'm not sure why the cylon men wouldn't also have the necessary equipment to do so. If they did, then what's the need for the whole birthing room setup?

Regardless, this episode, and subsequent stuff with Six and Baltar, seems to make clear that the cylons' ultimate agenda is to make a human/cylon hybrid, to use the humans as hosts to help their own race grow. So, was the attack actually a ploy to throw the humans into chaos and then use that chaos as a way to capture subjects for their research testing? That would imply that they had gotten as far as they could building their own models and they needed to get some new raw material. I'm thinking it's possible that the birth of these twelve humanoid cylons may have been some kind of miracle. That would explain why they aren't able to just make new models on their own, and also why they have such strong religious faith. It's like these ones that now exist have been given a mission from God, and they will do whatever has to be done to let his will be done.

Back on Galactica, I really liked the Civil War arc. The arc with Thai's botched command worked really well because it played off the characters' basic insecurities. He's a classic second in command, adept at enforcing Adama's decisions, but not so good at making his own. He makes some bad choices, but considering it was Adama who chose to arrest the president in the first place, would he have done anything different if he had been in command at the time? When Adama wakes up, he sees his own flaws in the way Thai ran the ship, his own stubbornness and as a result, lets go of his pride and decides to reconcicle. Of course, a lot of this is motivated by the fact that his son had betrayed him, and if they were to let the other ships break, it could very well mean never seeing his son again. So, his speech at the end of "Home Part I" about bringing the family back together has a clear double meaning, the question is which family was the reason for his action.

"Home" was a reallly strong episode, notable for the fact that it brings nearly all the core characters together for the first time in a long while. I love the Sharon/Helo relationship because it gets to the core of the issue with the humanoid cylons, if they can be so well programmed as to completely believe that they are human, then what's the difference between us? Belief can be more powerful than actuality, as Adama makes clear when the chief says he thought he love Sharon, and Adama says that's all love is, a thought. Helo and Sharon clearly love each other, so why should it matter if she was born synthetically, is there that big a line between Sharon and something like in vitro fertilization? That's the lingering question, because we don't know how much the cylons are like humans. Other than the red glowing spine, they seem to be identical to humans.

Anyway, the episode also raises a lot of issues about the shared memories between cylons of the same model. This Sharon remembers the things that original Sharon went through, even if she hasn't experienced them herself. This sets us up for a bizarre love triangle with Helo, Sharon and the Chief. In so many ways, this Sharon is the exact same person as the Chief was in love with, but where does he fit in now that she's with Helo. Lot of issues, and I'm really looking forward to seeing them played out.

Other than this stuff, we get a lot of interesting developments on the religion front. Roslin is playing increasingly on these prophesies, and the experience at the Tomb of Athena would seem to give creedence to everything that she's been saying. They apparently have found the way to Earth, but the issue now is when the show is taking place in relation to our history. If they do eventually make it to Earth is it going to be in our present, which would probably be goofy, or is it going to be some kind of creation myth, where they land in the past and drop the information that will lead to the creation of our society. It would be interesting to see things go in a meta route and have them land in our world and find that their existence is being chronicled on a show called Battlestar Galactica.

That would play off the connection to the 70s show. With the emphasis on the cyclical nature of history, they seem to be acknowledging the existence of that show, and I'm not sure if it's that going to play into further developments.

The other major development on the religious front is getting the cylon perspective on humans. I didn't catch it before, but the cylons are monotheists, while the humans are polytheists. The humans are also closely tied to Greek and Roman polytheist culture, which would position the cylons as the next stage of development. If they are positioning the humans as polytheists, the arc of the show would eventually lead to all of them being converted to the cylons' faith, which is perhaps what the hybrid is about.

Concurrent with the stuff on the planet, we've got an interesting story for Baltar and Six. They haven't done that much this season, so seeing some actual change in Home was interesting. I loved how they played on the characters' image by having her all of a sudden dressed like a suburban mom, forcing Baltar to question everything that he's been believing.

Now, the x-ray doesn't necessarily mean that Baltar doesn't have a chip, but I'm assuming if they went to the trouble of doing the storyline, they're not going to all of a sudden say it's an x-ray proof chip. So, is Six really an angel of God? I'm not really sure, but it throws everything into question. Things have been manuvered to the situation where Baltar will deliver the first hybrid child, fulfilling God's will and ushering in a new age.

So, things are really interesting right now. I'm a little disappointed that the civil war storyline was resolved so quickly, there was a lot more potential there, but other than that, everything's great right now. I'm guessing that the new conflict will be whether to go off in search of Earth or to go back to Caprica and bring back survivors. Hopefully, the DVD set of the second half of season two will be out soon, I want to get caught up before I come across any big spoilers.

Battlestar Galactica: 2x01-1x03

After the incredible highs of the first season finale, the first chunk of season two is a bit of a downturn, as the show has to deal with a ton of fallout from the first season finale. Unfortunately, this means that some of the most interesting plot strands don't get much screentime, most notably the humanoid cylons, who are all but absent from this run of episodes.

The primary arc running through these episodes is Colonel Tigh's struggle to deal with his role as ship commander. The first episode features a few flashbacks to his early days with Adama, these work okay, but considering how much is going on, it doesn't feel worthwhile to spend a bunch of time on stuff that happened in the past. In some respects, it's a shortcut out of character development, but it does give you a sense of his emotional situation at this point, unsure how to act without Adama's guidance.

I'm usually not as interested in the military side of things, so the issue with Galactica jumping away from the fleet wasn't that exciting. It's an artificially imposed plot development, and while it could become an ongoing arc, as done here, it felt pretty clear that they'd find their way back for a triumphant end of the episode. In a lot of respects, it was a retread of the emotional territory of '33.'

The stuff with the cylon attack on the ship's interior in episode two was entertaining, but didn't have that much substance. It was another example of a plotline that just happened, it didn't evolve out of anything or lead anywhere. I guess I'm not particularly interested in the robot cylons, they lack the moral complexity of relationships with the humanoid cylons. I'd guess that the intention here was to establish the potent killing power of the robots, and also to provide an action sequence uncomplicated by the issue of shooting these humanoids.

The more interesting parts of these episodes were going on with the stranded crew. The stuff with Starbuck and Helo was unquestionably the highlight of each episode. I was surprised when Sharon took the ship, because she had previously been on the run from the cylons. I'm figuring that she saw Starbuck as a threat, and knew that if they were to make it back to the ship, she probably wouldn't live for long after she gave birth. So, with the chance of making a life with Helo gone, she left.

The second episode scene with Starbuck and Helo in her apartment is one of the best from the entire series. It captures the alien feeling that she must have upon returning to this place where she used to live, but now feels alien, from a completely different time. The music here was phenomenal, and build up such a strong atmosphere that just watching them sit and talk was an emotional experience.

The other cool storyline was the stranded on Kobol stuff. This sequence also establishes how dangerous the mechanical cylons are. The most notable development is that Gaius and Six apparently have their own child. I assumed she was talking about being the father to the Helo/Sharon child, but apparently she is pregnant as well. I'm still not sure what the deal is with all the Sixes, the physical body that he slept with was presumably destroyed when Caprica was nuked, so did they harvest his sperm, or does the pregnancy transfer to different bodies as well? I suppose she could just be messing with him, but that'd be a pretty lame plot point.

I do like how Gaius now sincerely believes that he is an instrument of God, between him and Roslin, God is apparently taking a big role in the cabinet. Six does seem to be continually aiding Gaius, she is the one who inspires him to act to save Cally. So, he seems to be stepping it up and getting things together.

"Fragged" also saw some really interesting developments back on Galactica. Tigh pushes things too far, and brings about a potential civil war between the people who believe Roslin, and people who support the military. There's a lot of potential with this storyline, focusing on the issue of logic vs. faith. I'm really interested to see how the cylons factor into this, because they would seem to be more aligned with Roslin. How do they feel about this prophecy, and are their goals in line with what Roslin is trying to do? They seem to believe in a cyclical view of history, so they would likely believe in the prophecies.

And on the political side, there's the issue of how Zarek fits into all this, would he want a civil war to clear the way for his ascent to power, and is he still connected with Ellen Tigh?

There's clearly a lot of interesting stuff going on, but right now I'm missing the cylons. Sharon's barely been on, and Six has only appeared in Gaius' head. I'm hoping that like season one, the focus will increasingly be on the cylons as the season progress, and not the metal cylons either, the humanoid ones.

Tori Amos: Fade To Red

I've really enjoyed the Directors Label music video compilations, and while I'm waiting for the next series of those, I decided to pick up Tori Amos' video compilation DVD, Fade to Red. It's a really different experience watching the videos from an artist perspective rather than a director one, for one, I like pretty much all the songs, but at the same time, you don't get as consistently interesting videos as you would from a Gondry or Jonze.

However, there's still a strong sense of authorship, even if she doesn't come up with the concept for the video, it's clear that Tori has a lot of themes she's interesting in exploring, and on the whole, this is a great bunch of videos. One complaint about the DVD is that the videos seem to be placed in a completely random order, but I'll talk about them in chronlogy.

The videos for Little Earthquakes are not too good. I'm not sure if it's the DVD or the videos themselves, but they all seem to be shot on third generation VHS, really grainy, especially on the movement. 'Crucify' is a great song, but the video is very pedestrian, just a bunch of images with nothing in particular connecting them. I do like the stuff with the bathtub and her medieval dress, but the stuff at the end with the cheerleaders is just goofy and doesn't work.

'Silent all these Years' and 'Winter' are similar to 'Crucify,' same white background, bunch of random stuff, no cohesion to the video. I guess they're designed to showcase Tori's performance, but we don't need to see her play the piano to know that she's a good musician. There's some good images in here, but they don't really go anywhere. 'China' is a bit different, but equally goofy. Here, Tori wears a jumpsuit that looks like rocks and she sits on a beach. It's a bit goofy looking and doesn't work so well.

From these inauspicious beginnings, she moved on to more ambitious and interesting videos for Under the Pink. The video for 'God' doesn't quite cohere together, but it's got enough really interesting parts to be a success. I love the image of Tori with all the rats running over, and the finale with the religious ecstascy and the snakes is fantastic. The slo mo shot of that woman hitting the tambourine is a highlight. It reminds me of an X-Files episode, which also focused on evangelicals and snakes.

'Cornflake Girl' is one of my favorite Tori songs, and it gets two videos. Both are good, but I think it's tough for the video for a really special song to live up to the song itself. It reminds of Anton Corbjin's video for U2's 'One,' a good video, but one that doesn't quite capture the grandeur of the song.

The UK version of Cornflake girl has some nice black and white photography and a bunch of crazy images. I love the houses and people twisting through the void of the starfield, spinning out of control. The thing this video really made me aware of is Tori's huge vocal range, to see her go from the high "You bet your life" part to the really low "Man with the golden gun" section is incredible. It's a crazy song, and this video captures some of that.

The US version is a better video, focusing on the thematic content of the song, infighting between women. This video has a lot of stuff going on, but it doesn't always come together. I really like the synthetic Western landscape where the video is set, and the guy in the pot surrounded by the dancing women is a really strong visual. Clearly, there's some phallic symbolism going on there, with the guy cutting up a carrot while the women pull out their lipstick to fight him. The end of the video, where Tori is playing the piano on herself is a bit goofy, but on the whole I liked this one.

'Pretty Good Year' is a bit of a step back, returning to the white world seen in the Little Earthquakes video. I think the dance sequence towards the end of the video works, but on the whole, there's not much notable here. 'Past the Mission' also deals with male/female conflict, here seen in the rebellion of a bunch of traditional village women. It's an effectively dramatic video, and I think the image of the priest walking over the women lying on the ground is a nice visual encapsulation of the video's theme.

Moving onto the videos for Boys for Pele, things keep getting better. 'Caught a Lite Sneeze' is like 'Cornflake Girl' (UK) in that it's basically an exercise in greenscreen, superimposing Tori onto various locations. There's some really strong moments here, like the giant bald guys rising out of the sea, but some of the CG doesn't work so well. The best stuff is the scenes in the house.

'Talula' is a video I really like because it's got a lot of the elements I really like, the scientific experimentation in particular. The primary image here, Tori trapped into the plastic box is really effective, and would be used to even better effect later in 1,000 Oceans. I really like Tori dancing in the box, and the look she has as they're examining her is priceless.

A crucial element to all these videos, the earlier ones in particular, is Tori's personality, this sort of innocent joy at playing the music and being in whatever world she is. In the early videos, it's her performance that keeps you interested, even when not much is going on. I've read that she was an inspiration for Delerium in Sandman, and in some of these videos you can see that sort of childlike playfulness.

Next up we're getting into the Golden Age of Tori videos. 'Hey Jupiter' is a simple scenario, Tori is trapped in a burning building and a little girl brings her out. What makes the video so powerful is the way it's shot, which gives an epic grandeur to everything. The whole video seems to take place in slow motion, which better allows you to take in the images. Tori's makeup here is critical to making the video work, because it sets her up as someone who's so utterly broken that she just might stay in this burning building and let herself burn with it.

However, the little girl, an angel, comes along and takes her out of the building to safety outside. I love the way the people watching the building burn are photographed, the way Tori just seems to slip by them and leave with the girl. On her commentary, Tori talks about how the little girl is meant to be an angel, and the video shows Tori moving from one realm to some kind of higher plane. You could read the building as hell and the outside as heaven, or you could look at it as a representation of her emotional state. The video works either way and that's one of its greatest strengths, it's a really simple story and you can read into it whatever you want to. You could even say that Tori died in the fire, and the little girl is taking her off to heaven, that would explain why no one seems to notice them when they exit the building.



Now we're onto the videos for 'From the Choirgirl Hotel,' which features Tori's three best videos. She was on a ridiculous roll here. The first video was for 'Spark,' and this is the primary reason I bought the DVD. I saw this online and I figured that having this video in DVD quality alone would be worth buying the disc for.

'Spark' is about a woman who's been kidnapped by some guy, and wakes up in the woods, blindfolded and bound, then struggles to free herself. This is one of those videos where image and music work perfectly together to create a really unique world. The images here are striking and powerful. I love the opening, Tori lying on the ground, blindfolded, singing in closeup. From there, we feel her struggle to escape him, running through the woods, and eventually making it to the water. The moment where she falls under, then triumphantly rises, as the song crescendoes is a highlight, and that's followed by an astonishing helicopter shot which moves through the woods, catching up with her as she's running. We're completely behind her as she tries to make her escape and that moment is exhilirating.

The end of the video throws everything into perspective, after this triumphant escape, Tori encounters two girls in a car, who drive away, leaving her in the middle of the road, still bound. It brings you out of the fantasy world of the video into harsh reality, this woman may be able to escape, but she's still an outcast in some ways.

On the commentary, Tori talks about how the video was inspired by Twin Peaks. It certainly reminds me of Ronette Pulaski, and a lot of stuff from Fire Walk With Me. Like Hey Jupiter, the video works because it takes a simple scenario that can be read literally or in a multitude of allegorical dimension. You could read it as Tori escaping the patriarchy, only to betrayed by women who hold to traditional ideas of subservient femininity, or you could see it as just an action movie type scenario. It's all about what you read into it. However, what I take away from it is the moment, Tori slipping under and the blindfold falling off, the finale with the car blowing up in time to the music and the final closeup of blood falling on a leaf, the impact of her ordeal finally coming home.

'Jackie's Strength' is another great video, a video with a narrative that loops through time in a really interesting way. The basic premise of the video is that Tori is going to get married, but decides to keep driving instead of stopping at the church, and as she drives, she sees people she knew from the past, different time periods crossing over each other. It's a video that takes a couple of viewings to get, but the primary idea seems to be showing a bunch of women at crucial moments of choice in their lives, none more so than Tori herself who has to decide whether to go back and get married or keep moving on.

The most striking thing about the video is the gorgeous black and white photography, which, combined with the vintage Kennedy footage, gives everything a very nostalgic, 60s feel. The final moment of the video when Tori encoutners her younger self is great, and uses the time disjunctions to provide a strong emotional conclusion for the video. I guess the thing I find most interesting about the video is the way that she uses all these different women to create a kind of meta-narrative of femininity in the twentieth century, contrasting the hopes and dreams of youth with the settling that inevitably happens when you get older. So, the ending is a meeting of these different periods, and by reconnecting with her younger self, old Tori will rediscover some of the fire that drove her earlier in her life.

The other video I bought this collection for is 'Raspberry Swirl.' Even though she specifically cites Spark as drawing influence from Twin Peaks, if there's one video that's pure TP on here, it's 'Swirl,' which opens on red curtains and an odd little boy who's dressed like the kid with the mask from Fire Walk With Me. This is an incredible video, both technically and content wise. The images here are very striking, I love the jump cuts from Tori standing still to Tori dancing.

The sequence with the old man and the people dancing feels very Lynch, and is simultaneously unsettling and exhilirating. The people dancing are setup almost like a museum exhibit, and the main characters seem to flash through that space thanks to the great fade to black cuts. Tori's performance here is critical, her exuberance ties the emotion of the music to the odd visuals. The conclusion with the table and the pigs is fun. I think this might be the most Lynch thing I've seen that wasn't actually directed by him. A lot of people try to imitate his style, but it's usually not captured this well, the video really seems to take place in the Twin Peaks universe. This is the rare case where the video for one of my favorite songs not only lives up to the song, but actually enhances it, a perfect visualization of what's going on in the music.

Those three videos for From the Choirgirl Hotel are unquestionably the highlight of Tori's video career. They're all quite different, but each do a brilliant job of both telling an interesting story on their own, and also matching up perfectly with the emotion and thematic content of the song.

Starting off To Venus and Back is the concert video 'Bliss.' Normally, I would slag them for making a concert video, but this one works. I think a large part of it is the energy of the song, the upbeat intensity is the perfect accompaniment to the images of adoring fans. I like the mix of black and white and color, and the video does a good job of conveying the feeling of the concert it's chronicling. I think there was a lot of potential for a different kind of video for this song, but as it was, it turned out ok.

The next video from that album was '1000 Oceans,' which again takes a very simple concept to create a strong allegorical narrative. Here, we've got Tori in a glass box on an L.A. street, looking out at life going by. The video has a phenomenal mood, this completely melancholy feeling. It reminds me a lot of 'Hey Jupiter,' in the way that slow motion is used to both spotlight the phenomenal visuals and submerge you in this atmosphere.

The way I saw it, the glass box represents the filters we put up between ourselves and the world. So, she witnesses all this trauma, but she can't put herself at risk to try and change things. The defenses we create to guard our emotions also prevent us from connecting with the world at large. So, she can't help the people who pass her. At the end of the video, she finally connects with someone emotionally, the family who looks in at her, and she's at peace. The violence could not penetrate the box, but the love and compassion of this family could. The glass box is such a strong visual metaphor, it's a fantastic video.

Next up was Scarlett's Walk, and 'A Sorta Fairytale.' This video also tells an allegorical narrative, but it doesn't really work for me. The basic premise is that Tori and Adrien Brody are just limbs without bodies and they need to get together to make each other whole. The effects are pretty good, but they still end up looking a little freaky, and that weirdness makes it difficult to respond to the video. It's well made, and definitely conveys its point, but the aesthetics undermine the mood they're going for.

And that brings us to Tori's most recent album, The Beekeeper. 'Sleeps with Butterflies' is another greenscreen extravangansa, with Tori superimposed in Japanese art environments. The first time I saw it, I wasn't that big a fan, but I watched it again and really liked the aesthetics. The look reminds me a bit of Dave McKean's stuff in Mirrormask, which isn't that suprising considering her and Neil Gaiman are tight. I suppose there's some significance to the twin imagery, but mainly this is about getting lost in the visual world, and in that respect, it's successful.

The final video unfortunately ends things on a bit of an unnotable note. 'Sweet the Sting' is another performance video, it's just Tori rehearsing with a gospel choir and hanging around. After the majesty and ambitiousness of some of her videos, it's a let down. But, it's a catchy song and the video is well shot.

Along with all the videos, you get a Tori commentary on each one. I was really struck by the way she talks, you get no idea of her speaking voice from her singing, and her style is unlike anyone I've heard. Maybe it's because I'm from New York, but Tori seems to talk very slow, and most notably, she never says "um" or "like." Your average person, even if they know what they're talking about drops a few ums, particularly in commentaries. However, rather than say um, Tori will just be silent and then continue the thought. I suppose it reflects a certain confidence, like people will wait around to hear what she has to say, the need to fill every moment with sound is indicative of the need to keep people listening. It's a unique vocal quality and I think she could do a good spoken word album, or in particular, she could do a great relaxation tape.

The other interesting thing on the commentaries was hearing her talk about "Tori" as a character. She would rarely refer to herself on screen in the first person, usually she would talk about Tori's motivation, what Tori was doing. I always find it interesting to hear commentaries and see whether an actor refers to themselves on screen as "I" or by the character's name. Here, there's no real line between the character and performer, in theory, it's supposed to be Tori herself in the video, but she creates this wall, which is probably necessary considering some of the stuff that happens to the Tori character.

Listening to all of her stuff in a row, you can clearly see her development. She started out as very piano driven, prone to hard rock outbursts. This changed with Boys For Pele, which led to an experimental, electronic period. However, with Scarlett's Walk she fled from the electronics, and by The Beekeeper, she seems to be pretty smooth, with the edges worn down. Of course, I haven't heard all of Scarlett or The Beekeeper, so I may be off with that generalization.

On the whole, it's a great video collection. About half the videos here are masterpieces, perfectly capturing the song, and all the others have at least something of merit about them. I only hope that with her next chunk of videos she gets back to the narrative style of the middle electronic era. We shall see.

Battlestar Galactica: 'Kobol's Last Gleaming' (1x12 and 1x13)

I did a post on the whole end of season one, picking up from my review of the first four episodes, but blogger was down and it was lost. So, I'm going to bring back the stuff on just the season finale, because in covering that, I can cover most of the major stuff that occurred.

Following the first four episodes, I was feeling that the series wasn't quite as strong as the miniseries that started everything off. The show was good, but it was falling a bit too much into pretty clean standalones, where the characters would go through some kind of trauma and emerge out the other side having learned a lesson or solved a problem. As the season went on, things became more complex, and the most interesting element of the show came to the fore, the cylons. There have been plenty of stories told about politics and war, but very few of those have the philosophical complexity of battling synthetic humans. The best episodes of the season were the ones that explicitly dealt with the issues surrounding the cylons.

The season finale is an episode that takes the series to a whole new level. I love the overture like opening of the two parter, which quickly throws us into a bunch of different plot lines, culminating in the wonderful moment where Starbuck calls Baltar Lee. I've grown to like the vast majority of the characters of the show, but Lee is still pretty much a non-entity, the Riley of the show, so that moment isn't that interesting from a Lee/Starbuck shipper perspective, but more from what it does to Baltar's ego.

Throughout the season, Baltar and Six's bizarre interactions have been simultaneously the funniest and most philosophically challenging aspect of the show. In this finale, we finally get the sense of Baltar's ultimate role in everything. Having stumbled into the vice presidency, he finds himself increasingly bullied by Six, who is manuvering him according to her agenda.

Once Baltar crashes on the planet, we get one of the best sequences in the show's run, in which Six shows Baltar around the temple. This sequence reminded me of classic X-Files mythology episodes, where you get the sense of something huge going down, just total awe at the proceedings. It also has the paradoxical fact that even though the moment feels relevatory, we actually don't learn that much. However, the circling shot of Baltar and Six kissing is such a fantastic visual, the emotion of the moment sells it.

From what I could tell, it seems like the cylons want Baltar to be the caretaker of their new generation of hybrid children. Presumably, he will care for the child of Sharon from the planet, should she make it back to the Galactica. Of course, it would take a lot of coincidences for the cylons to know that Baltar would come across her, however, I suppose they knew that at some point the hybrid would come about and Baltar would be the most knowledgable about things.

The other classic X-Files mythology moment was Sharon's journey into the ship. This is what I'd been waiting for all season, there's been some great work with Sharon, particularly in contrasting the two different versions of her. This was most notable in the scene where Galactica Sharon is wiping the word Cylon off a mirror, while Planet Sharon is having sex with Helo. Here, Galactica Sharon finally learns what she's apparently suspected for a while, she's a cylon. This sequence was brilliantly pulled off, because you're expecting one of two results. Either, Sharon will walk off the ship, rejoin the cylons and kill her copilot, or she'll come out a hero, keeping her cylon nature a secret.

So, I figured she would go into the new season conflicted about her cylon status, even as she continues to serve on the Galactica. But no, they dropped a ridiculous twist and had Sharon shoot Adama. This worked wonderfully because it came right at the moment where you're feeling that everything's safe, and sends you into the new season with every single plotline in chaos. Not since the first season of Twin Peaks has a series dropped this many cliffhangers.

Another arc I've been enjoying is Roslin's gradual transition into strong religious believer. This is great because it puts the conflict back into her relationship with Adama. She's aware that they don't know the way to Earth, but her faith is trumping Adama's logic. There's a basic philosophical schism between the two of them and exploiting that for story material is great. Roslin is definitely walking the line of faith and insanity in her decision to send Starbuck off to Caprica. Ever since her encounter with the cylon from her dream she's been a much more interesting character. Having her thrown in prison puts everything in chaos for the next season.

Following from that, I loved Starbuck's indignation when Adama tells her they don't know the way to Earth. That throws into question everything she'd believed, and sends her off to Caprica against orders. The fight between her and Six was great. The series seems to be drawing parallels between this civilization and the ancient Greeks, never more so than in this duel at the Delphi Museum. It looks like Starbuck may be spending at least a few more episodes on Caprica, since that Cylon ship only has room for one.

And that leads into one of my favorite plot strands from the first season, Helo's experience on Caprica. This subplot is interesting because it's where we've gotten the most insight into the cylons. Sharon seems to be a later, more developed model, and Six is clearly jealous of her ability to get Helo to love her. She seemed to have a similar relationship with Gaius, but there was always a distance between them, unlike the complete selfless devotion Helo has for Sharon.

The revelation that Sharon is pregnant raises a lot of questions about the line between cylons and humans. Clearly, their ultimate plan is to create a cylon/human hybrid race. They seem to be jealous of the humans' ability to feel emotion, feeling that it somehow makes them closer to the Gods. The cylons are motivated almost exclusively by this extreme religious fervor, and they apparently believe that the hybrid race is the ultimate destiny of their people. What's curious is why they would eradicate all of human society if they wanted to start this hybrid race. It's possible that they have some vast prison holding humans to use in the creation of the hybrids.

The pregnant Sharon would challenge the way humans perceive cylons. The definition of a species is that they can reproduce with each other and produce viable offspring, so if the cylons could reproduce with humans, the line is gone between the two species.

Even so, this leaves a lot of questions about what the cylons want. Would they want to reconcile with the humans if given the chance, or are they still committed to eradicating human society? There's certainly a lot of interesting stuff to cover in the next season, the political side of the show is becoming much more interesting, and the cylon stuff is always fascinating.

That's one of the most interesting things about the show, the sheer variety of what's going on. You've got pieces of Star Wars, The West Wing, The X-Files and Blade Runner in there, all co-existing. It's a scope that's nearly unparalleled, and the effects work on this show is better than nearly all movies, let alone TV shows. T

his is the sort of show that would traditionally be hailed for being "more like a movie than a TV show," but in actuality, it's another example of the way that longform television storytelling is redifining the craft of film itself. I'd already seen TV make mob movies irrelevant with The Sopranos, family drama movies look completely unambitious with Six Feet Under, and superhero films painfully simple with Buffy, and now's a show that makes the vast majority of science fiction movies look pathetically pedestrian.

I still love movies, but watching these grand, ambitious shows with their gradually developing character arcs and narrative revelation has made it difficult for me to even enjoy the traditional three act Hollywood film. Those characters feel so constructed and unrealistic next to the complexities of someone like Sharon here. And what this show adds is effects work that's better than nearly any film out there. I think when people look back on the late 90s and early 00s, this era of television is going to be comprable to the 1970s in film, when content restrictions were loosened, and creative people got the chance to be bold, experimental and change the nature of the medium. Let's just hope that TV keeps the doors open for auteurs well into the future.

The Sopranos: 'Join the Club' (6x02)

SPOILERS: All of the series, including Join the Club and Six Feet Under through Ecotone

Last week's premiere was notable for being a nice return to the world of The Sopranos, with a bunch of interesting stuff going on, and a nice shocker at the end. This week's episode opens up a whole new realm of possibilities for the rest of the show's run, with the sort of complex, reality bending storylines that this show does better than any show since Twin Peaks.

Structurally, the episode reminds me a lot of Six Feet Under's Ecotone, which has the same basic setup, the main character lies between life and death, and while his family and friends worry about him, he drifts into various alternate universes, between life and death. I think the fact that Tony wasn't as likely to die meant that the episode wasn't as viscerally effecting as Ecotone, but as things unfolded, the incredible potential for future storylines became apparent.

At first, I assumed that the Tony Soprano we see at the beginning of the episode was a Tony from an alternate universe, where he hadn't joined the mob and instead taken a legitimate job. It was interesting to hear Tony without his usual accent, and the only hint that something was out of place was the glimpse of a doctor in the spotlight of the helicopter. The image of the helicopter light shining down on him effectively conveyed the feeling of something being awry in this world.

Tony loses his briefcase, and according to him, "my whole life is in that case," so Tony loses his identity, and he's reduced to the core of his self. I loved the crisis of a man who has no identification, and thus no identity. He can call his family, but otherwise, he's gradually slipping into this other identity. He begins to take on Kevin Finnerty's problems, with the Buddhist monks, and when he sees the doctor, it's an odd feeling, is it Kevin Finnerty who has the Alzheimers or is it Tony Soprano? The two are merging into one, and the longer he stays as Kevin Finnerty, the more he loses any sense of actually being anyone.

There's a clear emphasis on religious imagery, a questioning of one's actions. The monks tell 'Kevin' that he messed up their heating system, calling to mind hell. The fires raging on TV further emphasize this. At the end of the dream sequence, Tony sits on the bed, and chooses not to call his family. It's like, stranded in this hotel, he no longer feels worthy of calling them. He hasn't become someone else, he's become no one, and beyond that, he's gradually losing his mind.

I'm guessing that the Alzheimers diagnosis is a forebearer of the brain damage that will afflict real Tony. It would be a brilliant twist to have this powerful guy become dependent, and suffer from the very same problems that afflicted Junior. I would guess that when Tony finally does come back, he'll be incapciatated, and will gradually recede from the role of commander, much like Jackie Sr. back in season one. Tony will become the very thing he's complained about, someone who's completely dependent and powerless to help himself, and he'll have to face the same questions about nursing and assisted living that he'd previously held for the older generation.

The major theme of the series is the conflict between the younger generation and older generation. As Tony said when talking to the black minister back in season two, the older generation's almost gone, so his generation is becoming the elders. If AJ were to kill Uncle Junior, that would end that generation and announce the arrival of a new one. It would make Tony the old man of the family.

As I mentioned earlier, the waiting in the hospital scenes didn't have the emotional impact of the stuff in 'Ecotone,' and in some ways felt like retreading of when Christopher was shot. However, the graphic nature of Tony's wounds was pretty disturbing. Janice's overwrought reaction was great, always bringing the spotlight back to her, and all of the solliloquies directed towards Tony were great.

The rest of the episode sets up some potentially interesting dynamics. Within the mob family, Vito again is making a play for power, even as Silvio has taken over as temporary leader. They're not really facing the potential that Tony might not be able to lead, once they find out for sure what's up with him, we'll get to see the power structure sort itself out.

Crucial to that will be Christopher, who's remained something of an enigma this season. He's there to comfort Carmela, but at the same time he seems more interested in the FBI agents at Satriale's than he is with helping the mob family. Is he going to be there to make a play for power, or is what happened to Tony going to push him away from the family? And there's still the issue of how he's been dealing with Adriana's death.

With Tony's immediate family, the big issue now is what will happen to AJ. Before the season began, I was expecting that he would go through something similar to Jackie Jr.'s arc back in season three, and this episode makes that comparison explicit. If AJ stays out of school, I don't see him holding down a minimum wage job, it's much more likely that he'll get drawn into the mob world. If Tony's incapcitated, the big conflict will be between AJ and Carmela. Rosalie makes it clear that if she just lets him go, he's going to end up in trouble, and go the way of Jackie Jr. If AJ does kill Junior, he'll be crossing a line, and that'll basically put him into the mob world for life. I'm hoping that he does end up killing Junior because that will open up a ton of possibilities.

If Finn does come to Jersey, it will mean that both he and Meadow are in a sort of limbo between college and the working world. The longer they stick around the mob world in that state, the more likely they are to get drawn in. Bringing Finn back would put Vito in an awkward situation, I'm assuming that his homosexuality will eventually come out and cause problems for him.

This episode has me rethinking the entire direction of the series' close. I assumed that it was pretty much either prison or death for Tony, but this episode opens up the possibility of a slow decline. Without Tony, the mob could be thrown into disarray and it's quite possible that the entire crew could be destroyed, broken by their own jealousy and power struggles, or federal intervention.

This is an episode that's great on its own, but really powerful in the new direction that it opens for the rest of the series. The premiere made it clear that this is a great series, but this episode reminds you that this series is functioning at a whole other level than anything else of television.

Elysian Fields at Tonic

I just came back from a fantastic show, a performance by Elysian Fields. I got into Elysian Fields after hearing Jennifer Charles' work on Lovage, an album she did in collaboration with Dan the Automator and Mike Patton.

Anyway, I got to the show a bit early, and when I went to get my ticket, who should come out to the box office but Jennifer Charles, who wanted to get the piano tuned. I wanted to ask her about reports of a second Lovage album, but didn't want to butt into the middle of her conversation, and soon she was gone back in.

So, onto the show itself. Elysian Fields are a really strong band, but they suffer a bit from the fact that there's not that much variation between their songs. They're fantastic for setting a mood, but with some notable exceptions, the individual songs don't stand out that much. I play EF's music a lot when I'm writing, because the songs create a fantastic atmosphere that enhances what I'm putting down. However, I wasn't sure how that would play live.

As it turned out, it works wonderfully, their live show was one of the most intimate and engaging I've ever seen. The venue was small, with rows of chairs set up in front of the stage and standing room in the back. There was no jumping around or yelling during the songs, everyone's attention was focused on Jennifer.

I recognized about half of the songs they played, but it didn't matter because her live presence was captivating. First off, she's incredibly sexy, whether singing, or talking in ethereal whispers. She was talking about masking tape and it sounded hot. Her singing was phenomenal. Because it was such a small room, it wasn't like she was putting on a show for you, it was like you caught her in a private moment, and she was letting you watch. I love a big, up tempo show, but this was a completely different experience, each song spinning you deeper into their world. No one talked, there was just applause after it was clear that the song was done. That was quite different from any other show I've experienced.

The songs themselves were mostly new stuff, with a few early songs thrown in as well. "Tides of the Moon," and "Lions in the Storm" were great, but the highlight of the night was "Lame Lady of the Highways," which saw all kinds of guitar and vocal distortion, creasing a haze of sound. The sound in the venue was fantastic, largely because it didn't have to be amped up to really loud levels, you could hear Oren's acoustic guitar just as clearly without amplification as you could with.

They played against a backdrop of red curtains, with blue lights shining down, like they were in a David Lynch film, and this felt like the Club Silencio performance. My entire identity wasn't broken down or anything, but it was that similar feeling of getting captured in a moment of song. Great stuff, I'll definitely see them again, they seem to be regulars at Tonic. And a side note, I saw that Julee Cruise performed there a few weeks ago, seeing her on that red curtained stage would have been ridiculous, I'll have to be on the lookout for another show with her.

Anyway, I was frustrated that I didn't get a chance to ask about the Lovage album, so as I was leaving, I decided to head back in and see if Jennifer was around to take questions. The advantage of the venue is that there is no "back," so the performers have to leave through the floor like everyone else.

So, I'm looking around and see her over by the hallway that leads to the bathroom. She's talking to some guy, I figure it's a fan, and I'll wait and ask her when he's finished. They're talking for a while, and I figure it's someone she knows. So, I'm standing in this hallway, ostensibly waiting on line for the bathroom, but really just waiting for her to finish talking.

Her and this guy are going on for a long time, and I'm hearing snippets of their conversation. They're talking about "Mike," who I figure must be Mike Patton, and as they're going on, I notice that this guy is Asian, and I was thinking is she talking to Dan the Automator? So, they're going on and eventually he says something along the lines of "And he was like Dan!" And then I knew, she was talking to Dan the Automator, two thirds of the team behind Lovage was standing right in front of me, and what's more, Dan was at work trying to recruit her for the new Lovage album.

Because I was essentially listening in on a private conversation, I don't want to go into too many details, but the essence seems to be that Jennifer and Mike Patton had some issues with each other while doing the first album, and she was a bit reluctant about returning for the new one. Dan said he wanted her to return, but would work with her on other projects if she didn't want to do another Lovage. It's crazy for me to think that I was there as the album's fate was possibly being decided. I was going to ask her if it was happening, and what should I find, but the actual process of deciding in the works. Crazy stuff.

I didn't want to disrupt Automator's pitch and be responsible for preventing the creation of a second Lovage album, so I waited in that hallway for a while, and when they were breaking up, I went up and asked if he was indeed Dan the Automator. I asked him and Jennifer if the second Lovage album was happening, and he said that they had "explosive chemistry," but were working on it. I asked him a bunch of stuff, and found out that he's got a bunch of stuff coming out later this year, mostly rap things. He also said that he didn't do the second Head Automatica album because he had a dispute with the label, and Daryl Palumbo sided with the label over him. It sounded like he has a lot of issues with the labels he works with, and some suits are in the works. He was there with video director Philip Andelman, whose work I wasn't familiar with, but turns out to be quite a prolific director.

It was really interesting to hear Dan and Jennifer talking, and I'm hoping that they can pull things together for the album. And it's great that I got to meet one of my favorite musicians and actually talk with him for a bit.

So, on the whole it was a fantastic show and a cool bonus afterwards. And I'm hoping that whatever the differences are between Mike and Jennifer, they'll work it out and get the second album going.

V For Vendetta (The Film)

Tonight I saw the V For Vendetta film. I've been in the process of rereading the book, and got through two thirds of it before I saw the movie, so I was pretty immersed in Alan Moore's world going in. Unlike Alan himself however, I wasn't going in expecting to see the book on screen. I used to always think that just filming the comic would make a fantastic movie, then I saw Sin City, a film that was basically the comic on screen. The film is fascinating for its utter lack of purpose. It's a good film, but is there any real reason for it to exist? It just takes the book and puts it on film, rather than making a film out of a book.

Now, I'd rather have a Sin City, that's good but pointless, than a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, a film that's just awful. So, after seeing Sin City, I decided to try to divorce the adaptation from the original work and just enjoy it or dislike it on its own terms. V the book is a masterpiece, one of the greatest books ever written. V the film is a really strong movie, though one that doesn't quite make it to greatness.

I'll start with what works. Not to be shallow, but the explosion sequences that open and close the film are incredibly satisfying. The combination of visual and music is exhilirating. This is a case where the film does something that a book cannot. I saw this on a huge IMAX screen, and was literally rocked by the sound of the explosions.

The best sequence in the film was the torture sequence with Evey. This sequence worked on a number of levels. My favorite part was the Valerie story, which was wonderfully drawn right from Moore's text. It's a heartbreaking story, and the moment when V shows Evey the "Salt Flats" poster is the emotional peak of the movie. The contrast of the beauty of Valerie's life and the horror of what Evey was going through was very powerful.

In the first few scenes, V seemed goofy, the speaking out of the mask seemed weird and the ridiculous speech of a thousand V words didn't help much. However, as things progressed, you got used to him, and even goofy stuff like V in the apron worked pretty well. The fight scenes, even if they were a bit gratuitous, were very cool and had a unique impact. You could feel the hits the characters took, and the scenes of V cutting up the soldiers effectively showed the attractiveness and brutality of violence.

The acting was quite strong throughout. Natalie Portman went through a big transformation and pulled it off well. Hugo Weaving made V more than just a mask, you could sense the person underneath. My favorite supporting performance was Stephen Fry as Gordon, making a real relationship with Evey in a minimum of screentime.

Comparing it to the book, the biggest improvement was the stuff with Gordon. It never made much sense that Evey is lucky enough to run into the one guy who would take her in and treat her kindly. Having a previous connection makes it less random.

The issue I have with Gordon's transformation is that it takes away the complexity surrounding Evey's father figures. This gets to the core of the problem with the film. By making Evey older, and making her a successful young woman instead of a prostitute, there's less of the sense of getting caught up in the romance of anarchy and then being brought down to Earth upon seeing V's violence.

In the book, Evey sees V as an all purpose father figure, and at one point even asks if he is her father, something that isn't completely out of the realm of possibility. So, in dealing with V, Evey is dealing with the issues surrounding the loss of her father. Then, the episode with Gordon becomes about another father figure, and the issues surrounding getting into a sexual relationship with her father figure.

What the film does that dulls the complexity surrounding V is that V saves Evey from the police when he takes her into his fake prison. In the book, Evey is seeking revenge for Gordon's death, she's not in any danger, but V hauls her back into his world. This makes their relationship more complex, something that's summed up in the scene where she asks him what's wrong with just being happy, and he says that happiness is a prison. It's a much more radical agenda, one that presents a more radical opposition, between fascism and anarchy, rather than between oppression and freedom.

Something that I think didn't work that well in the film was the stuff with Finch and Dominic. It felt like too obvious exposition, and you didn't get the sense of Finch as being a character rather than a plot device. I think part of that is because we've seen detective figures like him in so many films before, it's just not that fresh anymore.

I think the reason that it doesn't work is because so many of the other subplots are cut out. In the book, Finch is designed to show some of the humanity within the system, a contrast to people like Almond and Helen Heyer, who buy into the system. When you've got four or five character arcs layered in the story, the fact that Finch exists primarily for exposition seems less obvious. When he's the only major character in the film outside of V and Evey, it becomes clear that he's there to service the main story rather than to exist on his own.

The thing I miss most from the book is the Rosemary Almond arc, which is powerful enough to be a film in and of itself. Her story showed the effect of this regime on ordinary people more powerfully than just random people watching TV. In the film, you don't get the sense of this society as a whole world, we only see the people as pawns in a political duel between V and the leader.

And the biggest problem with the film is that the relationship with Evey and V is framed as a romantic one, something that doesn't make much sense, since V is meant to be an idea more than an actual man, something that's made explicit in the finale with everyone wearing the masks. So, in the closing voiceover when she says "I remember the man," it seems to completely undermine the point of the film, which is that V is an idea of freedom, who inspires her to reinvent herself, the man himself is irrelevant, it's the mask that matters.

So, after starting this review by saying I was just going to view the film as a film, I've spent most of my time going on about how it differs from the book. That's the basic problem of adaptation, and why I generally don't think it's worth bothering to adapt a book or graphic novel. With a few exceptions, you're not going to match the original because the original is a purer expression of the idea. It's like a second generation video copy. That's why I think when adapting something, it's better to fully embrace what film can do and create an immersive visual experience rather than worrying about the narrative, make something uniquely cinematic. At its best moments, this film does that, but not enough to be a great movie. It's a decidedly good film, one you enjoy, but one that also lacks the complexity of the book.

However, the book is still there, and the film is like a cover of a song. The original might be better, but there's a few spots in the cover where they do something that improves on the original, and that makes it worth hearing at least once.