The Spirit and Female Superheroes

I watched The Spirit on blu-ray a couple of days ago. The film was enjoyable enough, bouncing between some really strong, fun material that was baffling in the way only current era Frank Miller can be, and some scenes that just didn’t work at all. I think it’s totally understandable why the film bombed, and was poorly received, but for me, it was more exciting to watch than most movies out there.

Reading a bit about the film, a lot of people are knocking Miller for his objectification of every single female character in the film, a trope that goes back to his comics work. Miller definitely falls into many standard men writing about women tropes, the virgin/whore dichotomy and identifying a woman by her ass before her face, as well as dressing most of the female characters in a variety of fetishized outfits. But, at the same time, the narrative action in the film is largely propelled by the female characters, and they invariably take center stage over the rather blank slate hero, The Spirit. The Spirit actually does very little, he is bounced between various other characters who define him, be it Ellen who draws him to a normal life, Sand who pulls him towards adventure or even Silken who tempts him towards evil. Essentially, The Spirit himself is placed in the role traditionally held by women in action movies, of being a pawn the other characters use as an excuse to fight each other.

Now, that’s not to say that the film doesn’t have some problematic thoughts on gender roles. The Spirit flirts with everyone he encounters, and is able to have a climactic kiss with Sand, then walk right over to Ellen and be cool with her, even as he flirts with Morganstern at the same time. And, you could argue that the entire film is Miller putting various actresses he finds attractive in outfits he likes and making them fall in love with a blank slate male protagonist. But, in lavishing so much attention on them, they control the film, in a way you very rarely see in a superhero movie.

I’d argue that the film becomes its own kind of feminism, a distinctly male brand of feminism, but valid nonetheless. It reminds me a lot of a Russ Meyer movie, where female characters are presented as objects of visual pleasure, but also become dominant actors in the narrative, and control the movie, lording their power over generic beefcake men who have little personality and no say in how the movie proceeds. Look at the film’s climax, it’s really about Sand vs. Silken, The Spirit and The Octopus are just there to backup their female associate.

Yes, like a Russ Meyer movie, there’s a heavy emphasis on showcasing the beauty and particularly the tits and ass of the female characters, but does doing so invalidate the agency of the female characters? I don’t think they’re particularly fully realized characters, but no one in the film is, you certainly know more about Sand than you do about Denny.

I’d argue if this movie were directed by Joss Whedon, people would look at it very differently. In the same way they can overlook the way he dresses Echo in everything from schoolgirl to dominatrix fetish because Whedon is a self professed ‘feminist,’ they would hail the strong female characters at the center of the narrative, and write off the photocopying an ass bit as just having some fun, or presenting a character with a strong sense of her sexuality. Because Whedon makes such a big deal about being a feminist, it’s a lot easier to accept the contradictions of his work, to accept the fact that a high school girl is presented in a sexualized fashion throughout the first three years of Buffy. Or, look at River on Firefly, a mentally challenged teenage girl who is consistently sexualized throughout the series. Because Whedon is a feminist, it’s okay, but if Miller did the same character, people would find it objectionable.

Now, admittedly tone is a big part of this. Whedon’s work is much more self aware, and pokes fun at its own indulgence, even as it still gives you the pleasure of that indulgence. People don’t seem to realize that ever since Dark Knight Strikes Again, Miller has been messing around with the ultra-serious image he had in the 80s and 90s. To criticize All Star Batman, or this film, by calling it self parody, is like criticizing Airplane for having jokes, and not treating its aircraft disaster story seriously. He’s intentionally pushing things to the point of total insanity, and when it works, it’s a lot of fun to read.

More generally, I find it interesting that this film gets so much criticism for the presentation of its female characters, when it’s one of the only recent superhero films to have a female character who’s anything more than just the girl waiting at home, worried about her hero boyfriend. Who’s a more interesting character, Sand Serif or Pepper Potts? Silken Floss or Rachel Dawes? The Dark Knight is a particularly notable offender, using its female character as an excuse for the men to fight, then killing her off to motivate the final act of the story. She’s a cipher, existing solely for plot purposes, with no will or agency of her own. As in many recent films, she’s given her own job, but essentially she’s just there to support the man she’s involved with.

A large part of the problem stems from the fact that there aren’t that many compelling female characters in either the DC or Marvel universes. Thanks to the efforts of Grant Morrison and Greg Rucka, there’s more than there used to be, but they’re still not the brand name characters that can headline a film. Still, I’d love to see Renee Montoya as The Question pop up in a Batman film, or see some kind of standalone movie about Zatanna.

Over at Marvel, there’s a lot of great female characters in X-Men, but very few in the Marvel universe in general, where most of their movies take place. Is The Wasp the best we can hope for in the Avengers movie, a woman who’s best known for being a victim of spousal abuse? In the X-Men though, there’s a ton of great female characters, largely thanks to the effort of Chris Claremont, who much like Joss Whedon, has created a lot of really strong female characters, some of whom are fetishized, but no more than the male heroes were in his run.

Claremont most importantly manages to have a wide variety of female characters in his X-Men run. There’s the Earth Mother goddess type, Storm, there’s the everyday girl Kitty Pryde, the powerful and dangerous Phoenix and many others. Jean Grey or Storm are probably the most well known female superheroes beside Wonder Woman.

The X-Men movies never made Storm really work as a character, and Jean existed largely as an excuse for the Logan/Scott rivalry. There haven’t been that many great female superheroes on screen. The best presentation to date was Catwoman in Tim Burton’s Batman Returns. The film has an underlying feminist subtext, but melds it with the narrative such that it never seems preachy. And, the dynamic between Catwoman and Batman, Bruce and Selina, is consistently interesting and challenging. She’s the character with most of the agency, the one who defines their relationship and her own identity. He’s the one who just wants to settle down with her in a big house and have a family.

Again, the character is presented in a sexualized, fetishy way, but I think there’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. She’s a fully realized character, who dresses that way for a reason, it’s a means to express something within herself. She becomes a kind of grotesque parody of the sort of “bad girl” that men want. Men want a “bad girl” who’s just bad enough to still be controlled by them. It’s the illusion of a dominant woman. She subverts that by then pushing things further, to the point that her power becomes dangerous to the male order that’s trying to control her.

Compare her role in the narrative to Rachel Dawes in The Dark Knight. Selina controls things and actually pushes the narrative forward for her own ends, not just to get together with whatever man she’s interested in. And, though it’s far from the film Batman Returns is, that’s what the women of The Spirit do as well. So, even if you're to say that The Spirit is just pandering to men with its parade of hot women, isn't it better to see hot women who can actually do something and have their own lives, than hot women who exist just to support the male hero?

Caprica: "Pilot" (1x01)

As much as I was excited to hear that the Battlestar Galactica prequel series Caprica was picked up, I had some major reservations. The series is both a prequel and a spinoff, two of the trickiest works to do. The big issue with either of these is that for all the audience you’re attracting by association with the parent work, you’re cutting off potential new viewers, who are already behind in their knowledge of the story universe. And, you’re invariably going to leave some fans of the original series unsatisfied, since you’re not necessarily giving them the things they liked about the original series.

In terms of production circumstance, Caprica is reminiscent of Crusade, the Babylon 5 spinoff that aired shortly after the main series’ conclusion. Crusade, while not an outright awful series, suffers from pretty much all the problems a spinoff can have. Its premise was stuck in Babylon 5 continuity, and based on a TV movie starring the Babylon 5 cast, but it featured no actual Babylon 5 main characters in the show, giving fans and new viewers the worst of both worlds. In addition, the show never really staked out its own identity. Babylon 5 had defined itself as a space series that wasn’t Star Trek, Crusade was like Star Trek in the Babylon 5 verse.

On top of these spinoff issues, Caprica has to deal with the problem with prequels. The Star Wars prequels started the prequel phenomenon and are also exemplary of the problem with most prequels, they’re generally about watching pieces fall into place. Good stories drop you in at the most interesting point, and let things develop from there. If this time was so interesting, why didn’t the original series start here? The people behind the X-Men franchise are just baffling in their choice to do two prequel movies rather than go forward into the future. We all know what will happen to Caprica, why bother watching this series?

Well, thankfully the pilot totally wiped away my doubts about the shows purpose and quality with a standout pilot episode that managed to fit nicely in to the pre-existing BSG universe, but still carve out its own style and feel. The military aspects of BSG were never my favorite, so it was refreshing to be able to explore the issues of identity and humanity without getting bogged down in action scenes every few minutes. This is a more cerebral, introspective show, one that feels very much drawn from the world we live in today. That connection to our world was one of the best things about BSG, and this one draws even more on the beats of everyday life, the struggle to find meaning in a world where awful things happen.

One of my all time favorite film openings is Miami Vice’s drop directly into a nightclub, and I loved the similar opening here, as we instantly find ourselves at an over the top bacchanalia of sex and violence. The DVD only release gives us a bit more nudity and violence than the series itself will likely have, and I think that added bit makes it clear how far this place goes. This is a world without rules or moral consequences, where people can kill and fight and do all the things they secretly want to do, but society won’t allow them to. Why would you spend your time in boring school when you could be doing this?

I think it’s key that Zoe, Lacy and her friends go to an elite prep school and are so wealthy. These are the kind of kids who have no worries in the world, who can do whatever they want, and that’s why they go so far. It’s also why they burn out on it the quickest. They’ve been able to get anything they want in the real world, and now they can have anything they want in the virtual world, Zoe needs a more substantial transgression against authority, and that’s where the notion of the one God comes in.

It’s interesting to see the scene with the investigator and Sister Willow, where the notion of a single god is portrayed as something to be terrified of. In a world with many gods, there is no central authority, morality can be subjective and slippery, a conglomerate of different voices. One god means one truth, and that can also mean an inability to accept other viewpoints.

The episode’s greatest strength is the mood, and the way that the filmmaking establishes this series as its own world. It draws on the style of BSG, but I was instantly engaged on an aesthetic level. Because the show was shot so well, and created this mix of surreal and hyper-real, I was totally engaged through the exposition. It wasn’t a question of waiting to get to the good part of the story, just the images of the club and the world alone were interesting enough to hold my attention.

Once Zoe died, the show took a more contemplative turn, the energy of youth replaced by the regret and sadness of an older generation. Watching Daniel’s excitement at discovering new technology, we can see what inspired Zoe. The two of them are very similar, and it took her death to make him realize that.

That said, the show wasn’t perfect. I think the mob lawyer stuff could lead to some weak standalone episodes in the future. And, the transition of Zoe to cylon was a bit goofy. I think the major question is what is the show about on a weekly basis. Though this is a far better pilot than Dollhouse, I think it’s similar in that it’s got a lot of interesting ideas, but not necessarily a clear narrative drive forward. I’m interested in seeing them continue to explore the universe, and the world of the holo-club and the disconnect between that decadence and the more restrained surface world. But, if it’s just going to be mob drama and stuff like that, I don’t think it’ll work as well.

But, I was very impressed by this episode. It’s a really strong pilot, with a clear identity and sense of place. The cast is great, the production value is pretty high, and I’m eager to see what happens when the show continues in 2010.

Doctor Who: 'Planet of the Dead'

This Easter’s Doctor Who special was, much like the Christmas special that preceded it, a mildly entertaining, but ultimately hollow hour, primarily because of its disconnected feel from the overall narrative of the series. One of the trickiest things in long form serial fiction is making a story feel like it matters. In the case of Who, we know that Tennant is going to regenerate into someone new at the end of these specials, so they serve as an extended curtain call after the massive season four finale.

The primary issue with this episode is that it’s totally without context, and gives us no real reason to invest in it beyond the specifics of what happens on screen. The series gives us a lot of seemingly disconnected standalone episodes, but there we at least have the evolving relationship between the Doctor and companion to keep our interest when the story proper lags. In the case of this episode, we know that the world isn’t going to end, that they’re going to close the wormhole and all will be reset. So, it’s the same exact emotional beats as the Christmas special, leaving us with a sad Doctor alone, with only an ominous warning at his future as any sort of overarching narrative.

I think it’s less true of the old series, but in the current incarnation, the core of the show is the relationship between the Doctor and his companion. Much like The X-Files is ostensibly about scary stories, but is really about the relationship between Mulder and Scully, the various adventures serve as a device to let us get to know the Doctor and his companion better. Each season is defined largely by the chemistry between that specific Doctor and his companion, and without the companion to work with, these specials feel a bit hollow.

That’s no knock on Tennant, who’s as enthusiastic as usual. It’s more a consequence of the fact that no one’s really waiting to see these stories. I’m really curious to see the finale for Tennant, and to see stories with the new Doctor in the Moffat era, but this episode is just a place holder.

The Grant Morrison Documentary

I haven’t posted in a while, but fear not, the examination of important issues in comics and culture has not stopped! The reason for the hiatus has been that I’ve been out in L.A. working on what’s pretty much my dream project, a documentary about Grant Morrison. So, over the last week, we shot three days with Grant, talking with him during an interview that he called the longest interview he’d ever done. That interview will form the base of the documentary, which will also include some footage of stuff that I shoot as subjective interpretation of the stuff he’s saying, images from the comics, and hopefully some additional interviews with his collaborators and things like that.

It’s a pretty strange thing to meet the guy who’s pretty much been my idol since I first read The Invisibles seven years ago. How can the reality of the man possibly live up to the image I’ve built up in my head? To some extent, the answer to that question is the core of the documentary. There’s been so much written about what Morrison was going through during The Invisibles, but I had very little sense of the life he’d been living since the series ended, and I think we found out the answer to that. He’s not the crazy drug taking magician of the 90s, he’s a different guy now, and finding out who that person is is a big part of what the doc is about.

I don’t want to go too in depth about what we talked about, since that’s what the documentary is for, but I can say that the interview process was pretty interesting. I would ask a question, and he’d typically talk for five to ten minutes, then we sort of organically moved to the next topic. He answered a lot of questions I’d been wondering about, including such random current ones as the purported 80 page Seven Soldiers script and the exact identity of Doctor Hurt to more general stuff like a look inside his much vaunted notebooks.

I had a great time doing the filming, and I think the man lived up to the image I had of him in my head. He wasn’t exactly as I imagined, but in the transition from myth to human being, the magic lingered on. Anyone who can talk for six hours and leave you wanting more has a way about him. And, between a literal translation of his work like Key 23 and work inspired by his like Universal Traveler and The Third Age, I think I can make some really interesting visuals to match his words.

The documentary’s going into the editing room now, and I’d expect to see it released sometime in 2010. I’m really happy with the way everything we shot turned out, and am looking forward to getting in there and cutting it up and making something as challenging and exciting as one of his comics.

The Kingdom

I read Kingdom Come, the Mark Waid/Alex Ross superhero opus, a few years back and enjoyed it, primarily because of Ross’s art. Say what you will about his storytelling skills, he makes spectacle and pages that are just gorgeous to look at. Doing a Kingdom Come sequel without Ross seems like an odd choice, but I decided to check out The Kingdom for a couple of reasons. One is it’s got an issue drawn by Frank Quitely, one of the few things he’s drawn that I haven’t read. I also wanted to check it out because it was the only in story appearance of hypertime, the Waid/Morrison DCU concept that’s a source of continual fascination to me. So, how did The Kingdom read? Surprisingly well, it’s not an all time classic by any means, but there’s a lot of good pieces in here, and it plays as an interesting precursor to what happens in Final Crisis.

One of the most interesting things about the book is its structure. The central conflict is set up in an introductory issue, then we divide off into a series of semi-related stories about various b-list side characters and their role in the crisis, before bringing it all back together for the finale. The obvious parallel is to Grant Morrison’s Seven Soldiers, which used a similar structure. This series doesn’t feature the in depth character work or scope of Seven Soldiers, but the structure still works really well, to the point that the main story is largely beside the point, what lingers is Rose’s troubles in “Planet Krypton” or Iris’s struggle to get equal treatment by her father in “Kid Flash.”

The central story is convoluted, and predicated on a central idea that doesn’t quite hang together. It’s odd that William would so abruptly switch from total devotion to the notion of Superman as God to a mad fury to destroy him across time and space. I suppose someone who had such fiery religious fervor in the first place would be particularly disappointed when it turned out that his faith was built on a lie, but it falls prey to a common problem in these kinds of stories, which is a not clearly defined slippery slope of villainy. It’s one thing to want revenge on Superman, it’s another to go from a normal guy to a cosmic force of destruction. You can justify it, and the narrative reasoning is there in the story, but emotionally it didn’t quite work for me.

But, using his rage as a multi-versal threat gave the opportunity for a bunch of interesting stories about characters hovering on the edge of universal destruction. The core idea is the notion that Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman’s mission back in time will destroy their universe, whether it succeeds or fails. They are the products of a universe built on pain and suffering. Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman may be trying to do a good thing, but why should people be punished for the sins of those in control of their world. So, the story becomes largely about these peoples’ struggles to justify their own existence, and show that their universe is worth saving.

The reveal of hypertime at the end of the story is a way to solve the central conflict of the work, which is what happens to the people left behind when the world is changed. In the context of the DCU, the clear parallel is to the characters from the multiversal Earths who were wiped out of existence in the crisis. In “Planet Krypton,” Rose sees the ghosts of characters from those other Earths, and is comforted to know that they’re out there, that she isn’t alone, and also, to find out at the end, that she shouldn’t regret the choices she made, she’s in the place she’s supposed to be. That story was the high point of The Kingdom for me because it managed to make the DCU emotionally relatable and explore the role of the civilian in this universe in a way I’ve rarely seen. The odd structure of the piece meant that there was room for a digression like that.

The thing I really like about hypertime is the way that it reconciles all the different eras and tones of the DCU into a single cohesive whole. The goofy adventures of early Superman can co-exist with the apocalyptic world of Kingdom Come, and comment on each other without rendering each other invalid. I think it does run into a bit of a self indulgent loop of commentary, when you have a story like this, where multiple versions of Superman converge on each other and are used to comment on the nature of the DC Universe itself, but when a character is as mythic as Superman, it makes sense that he’d function as a significant symbol in a work like this. Hypertime is about recognizing the mythic essence of these characters as a core from which everything else flows.

Hypertime is described here as a river built of events, or stories. In Final Crisis, Morrison picks up this idea, I’d argue that the archetypal Platonic Superman seen in Superman Beyond is the “source” of the hypertime river, he is the hero from which every other hero flows, and is defined against. You could argue that each of the “trinity” of heroes are the source, an idea that’s reinforced by the appearance of Jonathan, a hybrid of Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman, who has power over hypertime. He is the end of the river, the coalescence of the disparate pieces built up by many stories over the years.

I see a lot of echoes of The Kingdom in Final Crisis, which adapts the hypercrisis idea in its tale of a universe built out of stories. Both works end with an attempt to liberate the characters from the notion of a single linear narrative and plunge them into a larger universe without rules or restrictions. On some level, I have problems with this because it plays largely as a way to bring back old stories that Waid or Morrison liked, and seems to spiral further and further away from any real world relevance.

But, stepping back, I think hypertime has a lot to say about the nature of mythology and human identity. People complained that I’m Not There was too insular, something that was only of interest to Bob Dylan fanboys, but I feel like it only uses Dylan as the jumping off point for an exploration of how we all construct our own identities. Similarly, hypertime functions simultaneously as an exploration of DCU continuity and a representation of the way that we construct our own personal narratives. Everything that happened to us exists and is true on some level, but we banish certain experiences to our own continuity limbo, and even build up pieces of ourselves using “imaginary stories” that didn’t really happen, but become a piece of personal mythology.

But, our perception of our own identity is largely based around where we are at the moment. I’ve gone from student to worker, child to adult, all the previous incarnations of my own identity are true, but they aren’t necessarily relevant to where I am now. Similarly, Batman has changed from day-glo 60s Batman to gritty 80s Batman, hypertime is a way to reconcile the growth and change that a character goes through by acknowledging the evolution of fictional personalities rather than trying to create a construct single narrative.

The Kingdom is the precursor to a lot of Infinite Crisis and Final Crisis, and certainly the hypertime stuff is really interesting. But, for me, the most significant thing is the great character work on some of the individual stories. The overall story is fairly typical JLA material, but some of those character pieces were really nice.

Battlestar Galactica: 'Daybreak: Part II'

It’s not easy to write a satisfying ending for a two hour movie, so imagine how tough it is to write a satisfying ending for an eighty hour TV series, to sum up everything that made a show what it was, and pay off all those character and narrative arcs in a way that leaves people satisfied. For some shows, the finale is the series high point, Angel, Twin Peaks and The Office all went out at the top of their game, while others end on a more perfunctory note, hitting the beats and going out in a good, but unexceptional way, think Buffy or The Wire. Battlestar Galactica’s finale is much like the series itself, filled with moments of incredible brilliance like nothing else I’ve ever seen, but also a bit frustrating along the way. I have issues with some of the narrative construction, but the takeaway from this episode is pretty much all positive. The show went out on a really fun, exciting moment, and left me totally satisfied.

There’s a lot to discuss here, so let me cover the first half of the episode first, the assault on the colony and subsequent destruction of Cavil’s forces. On one level, this entire sequence hit that Star Wars sci-fi battle joy place that lurks deep inside me. I love this kind of stuff, and seeing the crew embark on a desperate assault against Cavil and his forces was exhilarating. The effects team was top notch in building those trippy backgrounds and environments for the fight. That said, some of the gun closes looked a bit too CG, and took me out of the story for a moment. But, the general intensity of everything that was going on carried it along and built the tension to a really high level.

The intercutting between ground assault and space battle recalled the end of Return of the Jedi, as did the hypnotic spread and cross of ships across the stars. I also really liked the nearly abstract way that gunshots provided the only illumination for many of the battle sequences.

What bothered me about this sequence is that after all this buildup, it felt a bit too easy for the crew to get Hera back and defeat Cavil. There was a lot of gunfire, but except for the shot where Doral walked out with a gun and just started killing people, you never had the sense that there was any sort of coordinated opposition. I suppose the point was Cavil’s hubris, but you’d think that he’d have more than one person guarding Hera. And, what was his plan for getting Hera back, just walking into the room and taking her? Seems a bit chancy for a guy who’d spent years trying to get revenge on the final five. I don’t buy it, and it hurts the sequence dramatically. In terms of atmosphere and execution, it’s an amazing sequence, but looking back, the stakes just weren’t there. Centurions went into action, but casualties seemed remarkably low for the “last stand” we’d been prepared for.

This section of the finale reminded me a lot of the last episode of Buffy, where all our characters undertook a desperate assault against a seemingly infinitely powerful foe. I have a lot of issues with the Buffy finale, but a single shot made the stakes work for me there, and that was Anya being casually cut through by a Ubervamp scythe. To see a character who’d been on the show for years cut down with such a lack of buildup made it clear that no one was safe, that this is a war and it doesn’t matter who’s a main character, anyone can die. We never got that here, after all the gunshots fired, everyone walks out fine. Except for Boomer, but her death wasn’t really a battle casualty. To have Lee, or Helo go down like Anya did would make it feel more real and emotionally engaging. After it’s all over, that sequence was wonderful in the moment, but didn’t contribute that much to the overall scheme of things. I’m still glad it was in there because it was awesome, but I think it could have been handled a little better.

But, an element that did work was the Baltar/Six last stand. I loved the two of them kissing each other in the heat of battle, and also Gaius’s bemused surprise that he could actually stand up for himself. He’s earned Six’s respect for real now, and she can genuinely love him, in a way she never could on Caprica. These two characters have been written down some convoluted paths, to the point that it was hard to remember who they were supposed to be. They were two of my favorite characters for much of the run, but I lost track of them in the last season. This episode brought them back, both by going back to the touchstone of the miniseries, and by just writing them better, by knowing who they are and playing off that.

This led into one of the episode’s high points, the running Hera/opera house vision sequence. The much built up opera house scene finally plays out, and it’s really cool to see it all come together. In the context of the show itself, the sequence is supposed to foreshadow these events, in the context of the production, I’m guessing they shot the opera house without knowing exactly what it would refer to, then set all this up to mimic it, but either way, it’s a fantastic sequence, that’s shot and cut in a way that builds a hypnotic rhythm, the sense of something very important transpiring. When Six and Baltar pick up Hera, you have the sense that they are stepping up to destiny, that this is the moment where Baltar can finally prove his worth. He brings Hera before the Final Five, who look down from their perch truly god-like. That shot was amazing, one of visual high points of the episode.

Baltar speaks of angels and gods guiding us forward, finally clarifying exactly what the nature of the “head” characters is. So much of this episode is about recognizing that our own individual actions are part of a much larger communal destiny, shaped by a larger intelligence that we might call god, though he apparently doesn’t like to be called that. Some intelligence has brought them to this point, it’s why they saw the opera house, it’s what the entire series has been building to.

However, this majesty leads to some troubled stuff. After Cavil agreed to exchange Hera for resurrection technology, I felt like there was another twist coming. With an hour left in the episode, it couldn’t all be this easy. But, what we got was problematic in many ways. The Final Five stick their hands into the vat, and share each others’ memories, including the memory of Tory killing Cally, which prompts Tyrol to choke her. There’s many levels of wrong here. One is what I’ve previously discussed about the convoluted backstory of the final five and the way that it’s antithetical to the development of further stories. These peoples’ identities waver and fluctuate depending on the needs of the plot, and Tory’s behavior in the first half of the season is a consequence of that. She kills to preserve her secret, but also enjoys it. So, presumably being a cylon allows her to indulge a dark side that she would otherwise sublimate.

I think that’s interesting stuff, but it was never really explored in depth, and she got sidelined in the backhalf of season four. The other final five characters were manipulated to the whims of the plot, and I never felt like I understood who they were, or what drove them to do what they did.

The other level on which the Tory death bothers me is Tyrol isn’t punished for it at all. I get that Tory killed his wife and that’s a big trauma, but shouldn’t someone have tried to stop him from choking her. Consider the fact that they believe their entire survival hinges on all of them getting together to enable resurrection. Where’s some leadership there, and what about the simple fact that it’s not right to kill someone, no matter what she’s done? I also don’t get Tigh telling Tyrol he would have done the same thing, considering he killed his own wife on New Caprica.

This leads to a pretty convoluted sequence where all hell breaks loose, nukes are fired and everyone thinks they’re going to die. I don’t get why Cavil kills himself here, it doesn’t make any sense with the character they’ve created previously on the show. I read a post finale interview where Ron Moore says that Cavil thought they were all going into the black hole, and he figured why not just end it now. But, that doesn’t make sense to me. I feel like he’d have gone down shooting, and at least tried to kill the Final Five along with him. Moore also said that the ship was meant to seem more like it was going into blackhole, but we can only see what’s on screen, and his decision to commit suicide just doesn’t work. It feels like they’re just trying to wrap up all the plots so we can get to the next stage of the story. There’s so many better potential ways to get rid of Cavil, this one didn’t work at all.

But, it did lead into another chill inducing sequence, where Kara finally puts all the pieces together and enters the FTL coordinates for Earth. I love the way the music built as she typed the keys, an echo of the piano playing sequence from a couple episodes back. This is her destiny being fulfilled, and it was great to watch. It also lead right into the startling moment where we see that the Galactica has made it to Earth, this time, the real Earth.

This leads us into phase two of the episode. The Galactica lands on Earth, and this time, it’s our Earth, in the distant past. I love this twist, it’s the sort of really audacious, crazy thing that only sci-fi can do. Stories should be like this, they should jump through time and space, and make us think about who we are and why we’re here. This is why genre fiction exists, to provide a lens to view things in a different way. I love the fact that the show was so tied to contemporary events, but I also like that it can step back and think about eternal questions, like the origin of humanity and the nature of god and fate. These are questions that people will always ask, and they’re just as relevant to our lives as suicide bombers and military coups.

After so many hours spent in the dark confines of the Galactica, the African plains seem endless, and the people who spent years trapped in those ships can’t seem to spread out fast enough. On one level, it bothered me that everyone split up so quickly. Why wouldn’t Adama want to stay near Tigh and Lee, why should he want to live on his own? The obvious answer is that it’s for the poetic power of him speaking to Laura near her grave, but I also think there’s a legitimate point of view saying that these people have been through so much together, they want nothing more than to be alone, to find themselves again and live out quiet, reflective lives.

For Kara, her time’s up. Her destiny is realized and she’s no longer needed. This all links together with the ‘head’ characters that Baltar and Six sees. She’s another agent of that same divine being, and with her destiny realized, she simply vanishes. I would have really liked to see one last scene with her and Leoben, perhaps reprising the Leoben as god imagery from when she died in season three. He is her angel, guiding her forward, and I wanted a pay off on that. He did shoot a new scene in the episode, so he was around, it seems odd that they didn’t pay off that long running thread in some way.

The entire thing with the ‘angels’ and god felt very much like a meta comment on the nature of writing. When the head characters tell Baltar and Six that their lives will be less eventful, it felt like an acknowledgement that the show ends here because we’ve seen all the interesting stuff. From here on out, things will happen to them, but just normal things, normal life. Kara’s destiny could be read as a role in the story, she needed to come back to perform specific actions to ensure that events occurred as planned, and once she’s done, she vanishes from the story.

Her role, and the head characters, feels very much like John a Dreams or the Harlequinade in The Invisibles. In both cases, there is a specific destiny to be achieved, humanity must find Earth and start again, and people will be manipulated to ensure that destiny is achieved. Kara, much like John a Dreams himself plays her role then is gone and never seen again. On an intellectual level, it works. On an emotional level, I’d have liked to see one more scene with her, maybe with her reuniting with the piano player, who we know is her father, and returning to the universal essence that she left to help guide humanity again. Anders did tell her that he’d see her on the other side, perhaps implying that they will be reunited now that both of them have helped humanity get to Earth.

This meta commentary is reinforced by the appearance of Ron Moore himself during the 150,000 years flash forward. Moore looks at an article that reveals that Hera is in fact the “mitochondrial Eve,” the root from which all of humanity grows. What that means is that we’re all actually cylon/human hybrids, and that the entire point of the series was to bring about humanity as we know it. Perhaps that was the Cylon plan mentioned in the series’ opening credits early on.

In the context of a fictional universe, isn’t the writer god? When Baltar and Six walk through a modern city, they speak of a higher power, but the man they’re looking at is the root of the universe. He’s the one who moves the pieces around, the one who makes Kara disappear. The meta commentary is more implicit than in a Grant Morrison comic, but the Moore appearance makes it very clear. Why do these events have to happen, because they are the fuel for the narrative universe. Events will cycle unending until someone steps in to change things. We watch the TV series, then it becomes real before us. We are making the robots that will become the cylons, the unwitting authors of a fictional destiny made manifest in our own reality.

I think people will have trouble with the “ooohhhh, robots are scary” montage at the end of the show, but it works for me because it underlines the connections between the fictional universe and the reality of what’s happening in our world. We could be them, we probably won’t be, but it’s possible, and maybe some of us will journey halfway across the galaxy to find another world and make it happen there again. I like the audaciousness of using the entire history of human development as but a piece of the larger mythology of the series. It recalls All Star Superman #10, in which we find out that our entire world was created as an experiment by Superman to find out what would happen in a world without him. That revelation makes us realize that the comic we’re reading is like a dream memory of “reality,” cutting through the fictional world that we call reality. It’s similar to Flex Mentallo’s closing revelation that superhero comics are the lone surviving testament from the real world we’ve forgotten.

The closing revelations would position BSG as a subconscious retelling of a creation myth, an explanation for the world we have, both a past and a future. The show isn’t a piece of fiction, it’s a channeling from our distant past, and the only way to find out if what happened before will happen again is to live and see our own future. Moore has said that he could never do a direct followup to the series, that’s because our lives are the followup, our history the sequel.

Ultimately, the series closes up on a satisfying and thought provoking final scenario. It’s not as instantly classic and emotionally catastrophic as the Six Feet Under finale, or as controversial and iconic as The Sopranos’ finale, but I think it found a nice middle ground between the two. The show went out on a strong note, and wrapped up at the right time. For all its ups and downs, this show did things no series on TV ever has before. It looked better than almost any other series in the history of the medium, and is the very rare show where the execution actually outpaced the writing a lot of the time.

The show’s writing sometimes seemed lazy, like they’d coast for a while, then blow your mind and make you forget about those weaker episodes in between. But, the New Caprica arc is arguably the best four episode run of any series all time, and I think the miniseries is one of the best introductions to a series ever. And, this is a truly great series on the whole, and one of the best recent sci-fi works around. And, even though we’ve got The Plan and Caprica coming up, it will be missed.

Dollhouse: 'Gray Hour' & 'True Believer' (1x04 & 1x05)

On the eve of the much hyped episode where Dollhouse “gets good,” it’s as good a time as any to catch up on the show’s two most recent episodes. Perhaps the best way to sum up my feelings about the show is to just say that I watched “Gray Hour” Tuesday, and “True Believer” on Wednesday. Before this show started, it would be hard to conceive of sitting on new Joss Whedon for over a week, but I just didn’t have a huge urge to watch either episode. The greatest strength of Whedon’s previous shows was their relentless addictive quality, the way they drew you into a world and got you so attached to the characters that you barely even care what’s happening plotwise, just spending time with the characters is enough.

Of course, as I’ve mentioned before, the series’ premise seems explicitly designed to prevent that kind of attachment. The show remains intellectually interesting, I like every episode I see, but there’s nothing to love there. It’s the kind of show that I could easily see myself drifting away from if it didn’t have Joss’s pedigree. I very rarely decide to stop watching a show, most of the time, I’ll just have a whole stack of episodes back up on me, until it’s a few months later and I just wind up never watching them. And, it’s largely Joss’s name, and the promise that episode six will be great that’s keeping this show from going down that path.

As I said, there’s a lot of stuff to like. The “man reactions” plot in “True Believer” was great, both for its infusion of humor into the premise, and for raising some interesting questions about the nature of the actives. And, again, I found myself wanting to spend more time with that plot than with the main action. I heard someone describe the actives’ dialogue as sounding like the way that actors in a porn sound, oddly inhuman, and I think that’s a perfect description. It reminds me a bit of “Pornomancer” from The Filth, and I’d like to see more of that weird sleaziness explored.

But, we spent most of our time with the mission, and I just don’t really care about the outcomes of these missions. They succeed, they fail, it doesn’t make a big impact on me because I’ve seen so many of these kind of stories on TV. The hour long network drama has a structural imperative that makes even new stories feel like something you’ve seen before. It’s only our emotional engagement with the characters that makes it feel fresh, and that’s just not there at this point.

Whedon’s previous shows had a wide range of great actors. So far, I’m not so sure we’ve got that here. Olivia Williams is totally one note as Adele DeWitt, and Franz Kranz as Topher is also one note, and annoying to boot. He feels like the Hollywood idea of a tech nerd, where Jonathan, Warren and Andrew felt more like real nerds. I think Eliza Dushku’s doing a pretty good job, but the cast standout is unquestionably Dichen Lachmann as Sierra. You believe her complete transformation into other characters. I love the moment where her eyes open as Taffy in “Gray Hour” and she becomes that characters, a totally different person from who she was in “Stage Fright.” And, she pulls off that drugged porn star vibe better than anyone when wandering the dollhouse.

At this point, I’m waiting for the show to kick it up a notch. It’s not bad by any means, but it’s not great. Hopefully this next episode will be the one to take it up a notch and finally start to get an emotional hook to go along with the interesting concepts.

Battlestar Galactica: 'Daybreak' (4x19)

Things have been pretty crazy this past week, I’ve been shooting a big infomercial, so I haven’t gotten a chance to write up this key penultimate episode of BSG. After moving all the pieces into place last episode, this one is largely about providing some strong character moments before the finale proper hits us with a whole bunch of action. It’s a successful episode, though one that’s hard to assess on its own terms since it’s very much part one of three.

Even though part of me feels like it’s not the best use of screentime with three hours left, I still love the decision to go back to Caprica before the Fall and spend some time with these characters as they used to be. It reinforces the idea that life hasn’t always been like this for all these people, that they have normal lives not so different from our own before the attack on the colonies. For Roslin, it seemed like having her sisters and father die was the worst possible trauma she could ever experience. It’s likely that suffering so much back then made it easier for her to deal with everything that’s happened since. Sitting in the fountain, she seemed to come to terms with things, she let her old self die and was reborn tougher, and stronger. It was an incredibly striking image.

The other scenes were less significant, but still effective. I particularly liked the Baltar story, which reminded me just how effective the Caprica Six character used to be. I respect the attempt to give her increased depth, but I think all the Sixes have been stripped of everything that made the character effective this season. She was all about the glamour of evil, the serpent of the old testament made flesh, a being beyond our morality, beyond our rules. Now, she’s just sort of there, ironically, her character development has stripped her of personality. But, back in the pre-Fall days, she’s a force to be reckoned with.

The episode’s greatest strength was the feeling of apocalypse hanging about. Things are drawing rapidly towards some kind of conclusion, and after an episode of buildup, I’m eager to see what happens when the Galactica finally gets to the colony and they confront Cavil. The promise of something involving a blackhole is particularly interesting.

But, there’s not that much to say specifically here, so let me discuss a few general points about the season before moving on. One thing that’s been bugging me is the absence of D’Anna and Leoben from the end of the series. Particularly with all this talk about Kara’s destiny, where is Leoben? He’d been a huge part of her arc since the beginning, why doesn’t she turn to him now? In theory, both D’Anna and Leoben should be hanging around with the other rebel cylons, what happened to them? I’m guessing it’s an actor availability issue, but it’s a pretty big plot hole.

The other general issue I’ve got with these recent episodes is the problems surrounding the revelation of the final five. I loved the episode where we found out who they were because it was just so out there. But, since then, the story developments haven’t made much sense. It turns out that the five aren’t really cylons, they’re pretty much regular people, who’ve been alive for a really long time, but the people they are now are constructed by Cavil, not who they really used to be. So, even though Ellen and Tigh have been together for 2,000 years, they haven’t been the people they are now for 2,000 years. Anders said that Tyrol and Tory used to be together, so why does the Tighs’ love last 2,000 years, while Tyrol and Tory don’t remember each other? If they wanted to go with the irresistibly drawn together thing, why not say Anders and Tory were together, explaining why they slept together when they first started hearing the music.

The problem with the final five revelation is that it’s the kind of thing that needs to be developed a lot more than it has been. We need more time with the characters to process what’s going on, and see how it affects their identity. Their entire personalities are Cavil’s constructions, shouldn’t that really mess with their sense of identity? I think it opens so many doors of implausibility and convolution that they’ve basically chosen to ignore the revelations, and that’s effectively ended any character development with the five. It’s a bit of X-Files syndrome, where a lack of advance planning backfires and results in a story that’s spending so much time explaining itself, there’s no time for emotion.

But, the core of the show is still strong, and I’m really excited for the finale. Hopefully they’ll give us one final classic episode.

Battlestar Galactica: 'Islanded in a Stream of Stars' (4x18)

Watching this episode, it really started to hit me that the show is ending. Like Babylon 5, I’m guessing the series will end with the destruction of its titular ship. If Hera’s play is to be believed, the ship will plunge into a basestar, and we may see some of our characters going down with the ship. But, that’s the future, and the three hour finale we’ve got waiting for us. This episode was largely about moving pieces into place, but did so in a mysterious and compelling manner, full of really great images and moments along the way.

The Boomer/Hera plot was my favorite part of the episode, starting with the surreal visions of Hera running through the opera house, and continuing during Hera’s jaunt through Boomer’s imaginary dream house. Hera clearly has some kind of great power, but she’s also still a kid. She imagines a cupcake in her hand, and probably imagines Boomer as her mother, Athena. Unlike Helo, she can tell the difference between the two.

When they finally get to Cavil, he’s housed in a prog rock album cover demonic fortress. That scene just brought me joy, seeing this massive space station, and Boomer’s small ship working its way through it. This show usually avoids those more fantastic flights of sci-fi, but I love that they made Cavil’s fortress so over the top. And, Cavil had a great subtle menace as he took Hera and promised to make her more playmates. Cavil most likely wouldn’t want to create more cylon/human hybrids. He’s seeking to eradicate the humanity from his makeup, so I’m not sure exactly what he needs Hera for. I suppose part of it is ensuring that the other cylons don’t find a way to reproduce.

Another moment that wowed me in this episode was Sam’s transformation into Galactica’s hybrid. First off, I loved the production design on the room he was in, the red code snaking its way up the walls, the interior of the Galactica becoming more and more cylon based. And, Sam waking up and speaking the hybrid code was such a perfect fusion of thematic, narrative and visual development. The Galactica is struggling to cling to its humanity even as it becomes more and more cylon based. Anders struggles with the same fate, as Kara says, the human life he has is fading away, replaced by something new and uncertain.

Kara herself continues down that path. She has died and returned from the dead. There’s not much conclusive from this episode, but I love the moment where she speaks to Baltar from the toilet, and her uncertain feelings at being held up as an angel for the fleet. If she can return from the dead, what does that mean for the fates of all these people who died aboard the ship? Did they simply not want to live enough.

It’s hard to make definitive conclusions from an episode like this. The function was to put all the pieces in place for the finale, and these are often problematic episodes. In Buffy, the third to last episode of the season was often underwhelming because it’s all about laying groundwork for the big finale. I think what made this episode work so well was the fact that the individual scenes were so well executed. Narrative purpose and payoff doesn’t matter so much when you get scenes as visceral as Adama spreading paint around and realizing that he has to abandon Galactica, or the Six being sucked out into space. As such, what lingers from this episode is not its contribution to the mythos, it’s the individual scenes.

I particularly loved Adama and Roslin sharing a joint and reminiscing about their time on New Caprica. With Adama fearing the destruction of Galactica, she tries to convince him that home isn’t a physical place, it’s a community of people, and though the fleet has survived because of Galactica for so long, humanity is now evolved enough to survive without it. The Galactica was a relic of the first war with the cylons, when things happened again as they did before, it served humanity again, but the time has come to abandon warships.

This entire ending is very Invisibles, with the hardliners on both sides being eradicated, leaving a new, more united populace in its wake. My issue with the handling of it is that we don’t get that much insight into the cylon side. The cylons make all these compromises, and seem to be totally benevolent in serving humanity, I want to see more of what’s going on within their group, particularly some more time with Leoben and D’Anna, who have been frustratingly absent. Is not Leoben just another manifestation of the absent father that Kara seeks? Surely he holds the final answers for her destiny.

I loved this episode, as the camera pulled back, I was wishing that the episode was going on. It’s reaching that point where I’m more aware of the series ending, where each moment with a character could be their last. It’s always tough to watch a story you’ve watched for years come to an end. Two weeks from tonight it will be over. I’ll talk more about the legacy of the show in those next two reviews, but I want to say that though this show has frequently frustrated me, it’s also produced some of the most profoundly beautiful and challenging cinema of the decade. This is a show that used visual storytelling in ways that virtually no other series in the history of the medium has, and for that alone, it deserves commendation. And, a great finale could make up for a lot of the rough patches along the way.

Watchmen

It’s impossible for me to offer anything close to an objective review of the Watchmen film. Watchmen the book was a massively important work for me, a work that cemented my interest in comics, and showed me how much they could do as a storytelling medium. Watchmen was the work that made me realize that there were things only comics could do, storytelling methods that drew neither from film or prose, but were unique the combination of words and pictures. So, to attempt to create a film from the most distinctly comic book of comic books is no easy task.

The film is neither colossal failure, nor smashing success. Tasked with condensing such vast source material into a film length running time, the movie loses a lot of the things that make the book so special. It’s not the narrative that makes Watchmen such a legendary work, it’s the way that it builds a world and plays in it for twelve issues. The much lauded opening sequence conveys all the narrative information we need to follow what’s going on, but it doesn’t give us the emotional connection that we get from Hollis’s first person narration in the “Under the Hood” excerpts.

I could go on along these lines for a while, but I want to address the issue of audience expectations in assessing the film. I don’t to be one of those fans who simply reviews the film in terms of its similarity to the book. If your only concern is narrative faithfulness, the movie’s a smashing success. It does a fine job of condensing the book into a film narrative, but I’d argue that’s not enough to make for a satisfying viewing experience. That said, it’s impossible for me to assess the film from anything resembling a new viewer’s perspective. I’ve read Watchmen many times, I know the book, and watching this film, I saw it more in similarities and differences to the source material than as a separate entity unto itself. The film’s consistent faithfulness makes it impossible to view in any other way, it changes some things, but adds very little to what’s already in the comics?

This film follows in the tradition of Sin City and 300, works that exist as little more than replications of the graphic novels they’re drawn from. They’re works that exist largely because the creators love the books, and want to expose them to a larger audience. That’s fine, I want more people to read Watchmen too, but I think those earlier films struggled to justify their existence as anything more than curiosities. Sin City was faithful to a fault, bringing nothing to the screen I hadn’t already experienced in the book. Watchmen feels that way to some extent, though I think it is a more satisfying viewing experience than 300.

I think there’s some things that did work well in the film. Doctor Manhattan was really well realized, he was totally believable as an alien, powerful being who’s more than human, but still rooted in a human reality. I never once felt that he strained credibility, and I particularly enjoyed the recounting of his origin as he stands on Mars. I also thought Rorschach was wonderfully realized. When I heard him speak in the trailer, I didn’t totally buy it, but seeing him in action, I totally believed in the character, and his personality shone through even though he wore a mask for nearly the entire film.

In terms of performance, I had serious issues with two characters, Veidt and Laurie. As Laurie, Malin Ackerman doesn’t bring the humanity that the character had in the book, largely because I didn’t buy her as someone with the weight of a troubled past as a hero. I always imagined her as someone who’s older, and more troubled. This Laurie felt like a rather generic love interest torn between our two male heroes. I do think that the moments with her and Dan in Dan’s basement worked really well and were pretty sweet. Those smaller, human moments are what make the book so special, and occasionally I’d see sparks of that humanity on screen. But, in general, her performance didn’t do much for me, which is a mix of performance, and of a lack of background for the character. She’s much less in her mother’s shadow, which means that both her and Sally’s character arcs are less compelling.

But, my biggest issue was with the dismal performance of Matthew Goode as Adrian Veidt, whose sometimes British, sometimes Hans Gruber accent tips him off as the villain pretty early on. Judged solely from the film, he’s a boring character whose motivations don’t quite hang together. But, bringing the book into it, the film completely misses the charisma that Veidt had. In the interview backup segment in issue 11, Veidt is described as the man every woman wants, more than Jagger, more than JFK. And, his inherent likability and charisma is sharply contrasted by the scheme he’s developing. Here, Veidt is treated as such a heavy, dire character, you get no sense of surprise when he’s revealed as the villain, and little of the emotional pull of the book. There’s no joy in the character in the film, and without that joy, he simply becomes a villain in hero’s clothes. You have no sense that he really does care about humanity.

The ending is where the film really doesn’t work for me. I guess there’s not that much more background on Veidt’s plan in the book, but the groundwork is laid by the subplot about the missing artists, which gives the final revelation the feeling of a whole bunch of threads coming together. Here, it comes out of nowhere and doesn’t make that much sense. I see people say the “squid” ending is plausible, but I think it makes perfect sense, and the very alien weirdness of the squid is the whole point.

But, beyond plausibility, what makes the ending of the book work for me is the fact that we’ve seen this entire society built up over the course of the series. We’ve spent so much time with Bernard the news vendor, Bernard the kid who reads comics, Joey and Aline, Malcolm and Gloria, and the detectives that seeing them all destroyed for Veidt’s dream makes it a real moral conundrum. Intellectually, I can sympathize with Veidt’s point, but when Rorschach walks out in the snow at the end, promising never to compromise, I’m with him. Watching him getting torn apart is such a visceral, emotional moment in the comic, and in the film, it just dies there on the screen.

The absence of the peripheral supporting cast basically kills the emotional impact of the ending. My favorite moment in the whole book is those scenes at the end of issue 11, when everyone comes together to break up the fight between Joey and Aline. Even after being scarred by his time with Rorschach, Malcolm is still going to break up this fight. Watching everyone converge, it becomes clear how much we’ve gotten to know these people over the course of the book, and how heavy the weight of Veidt’s plan is. All their lives will be wiped out for Veidt’s utopia, is it worth it?

None of that is in the film. The moral conundrum is entirely intellectual. That’s a prime example of the film losing “inessential” background detail that removes the emotional impact of storylines. It’s possible to tell this story in 160 minutes, but it’s not possible to make us feel it.

My other major issue with the film was the fact that it’s so oppressively heavy. It never seems to stop raining in the world of the film, and the color palette was all greys and browns, nothing popping. It’s not an easy world to spend that much time in. The book was certainly heavy, but there were jokes and warmer moments as well. Most of those jokes have been excised. A lot of the jokes in the film were from the juxtapositions of images with different captions or narration. The biggest one is the Black Freighter story, but there’s also smaller stuff like juxtaposing Veidt’s charity performance with Dan’s failure to perform. I think Moore does get a bit too clever from time to time in the book, but I think for a book that’s so much about using that juxtaposition, the film missed a big opportunity by not attempting to do something similar.

In the case of the Black Freighter, it’s pointless to make it as a standalone story. The point of it isn’t to give us a nice pirate story, it’s to comment on Veidt’s plan, and criticize it. While that’s not apparent on the first read, it does subconsciously prepare us for the reveal at the end of the film, a preparation that’s not there in the film.

Other, more nitpicky issues include frustration at the fact that none of the characters can smoke. I think there’s a major free speech issue brewing with the ban on smoking in films. I understand the need to “protect the children,” but this is an R rated film, with myriad examples of bad behavior, surely Laurie could have a cigarette after beating up the gang with Dan? Taking the cigarette out of that scene kills the gag. Of course, that may be a calculated maneuver, since Synder chooses to not have Dan and Laurie in their costumes when they have sex on the Owl Ship. This takes away the subtextual tie between the costumes and Dan’s sex drive, and instead makes it seem like he just had to reassert his manhood as a hero to get his potency back. That whole scene was handled in a really weird way, with the use of “Hallelujah” on the soundtrack. It was so over the top, it bordered on comedy, and I’m not sure it was intentional.

Ultimately, I can’t view Watchmen as a movie. It’s a filmic replication of a comic that I love. It doesn’t bring much that isn’t already in the comic, and is by no means as deep or challenging a work as its source material. It exists primarily as a curiosity. I do think it’s well worth seeing simply for the experience of looking at one man’s interpretation of the comic, and the time passed quickly. I enjoyed it, but I don’t think it’s essential in any way.

What will the film be to someone who hasn’t seen the comic? I’ve got no idea, Will it feel like a jumble of unrealized ideas that don’t quite hang together, or will it play better, a badass hardcore superhero story? I’m curious to see the public reaction once the film passes beyond the fan community. I have no objectivity on this film. I can appreciate what’s there, but the film exists in the shadow of book, and it cannot match its source material. And, I’d argue that it’s precisely its fidelity to its source material that holds it back. Would I have wanted a less faithful film? Probably not, but at the same time, that would have opened up the possibility of making something newer and more artistically vital. For now, this film has the surreal feel of people acting out a predestined script, struggling to find humanity in an elaborate recreation of something that was already done right and didn’t need to be done again.

Dollhouse: 'Stage Fright' (1x03)

The good news is each week of Dollhouse has gotten a little better, but none of the episodes have been total winners yet. As with much of the series, this episode has a lot of interesting ideas and thematic content, but the ideas just sort of sit there and don’t really integrate into the narrative in any way. The show has an intellectual interest, but most of the time it doesn’t have the emotional impact or Joss’s best work, or even his middling work.

The basic idea here is to juxtapose the gilded cage of pop star Rayna with Echo’s similar situation. Both have what some people would consider a utopian existence, free of worry and choice, with someone worrying about and caring for their every need. Normal people want to live that kind of life, but for the people living extraordinary lives, sometimes the thing they want most is normality. The confrontation between Rayna and “Jordan” in her dressing room hits the similarities home, perhaps a bit too hard on the nose.

The problem is what does this parallel really say? I suppose on one level it’s a way to explore the way that women are treated as commodities, defined by their relationships to others. That’s how Echo is used, an object to project fantasies on, and Rayna is the same thing. But, just saying that doesn’t make an interesting story, and it’s hard for the show to condemn that attitude when most of the female characters in the episode are shown in the minimal amount of clothes whenever possible.

I have no problem with that, these are good looking people, but I feel like the line between implicating the audience in the same attitude that the characters in the show have and just using sex to sell the show has been crossed. I think part of the problem is that we’re left with no place to view the show from. We’re made to look at Echo in various states of undress, and are still meant to condemn the fact that she’s being used by her handlers. It’s hard to have it both ways. I don’t think there’s anything inherently misogynist about showing women without many clothes. Look at a film like Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, which keeps its sexuality fun and empowered. But, here, there’s such a mess of viewpoints, it’s hard to know what to think, and my takeaway is simply that sex is being used to sell the show even as it’s being condemned from within the narrative. The show’s trying to have it both ways, and not quite pulling it off.

Anyway, I will say that at least this week’s mission made sense to use a doll on. I don’t understand why they led off with the hostage negotiator story, since these past couple of episodes have done a much better job of saying why someone would use a doll on a mission instead of a regular professional. I’m not saying this should have been episode one, but even more than last week, it pointed to a kind of viable type of future storyline, and was a bit more creative with the premise than we’d see previously.

I also really liked Echo’s interactions with Sierra. More than Dushku, she could easily swerve between personalities, selling us on the meek “number one fan,” then switching back to impersonal doll mode. That said, I’m not sure why she didn’t activate her backup personality when she got kidnapped, surely that would be the kind of emergency she’d have been programmed to get out of.

Also interesting was the revelation that the Russian guy is actually a doll, messing with Ballard, presumably on behalf of his Dollhouse superiors. This raises the interesting idea that the dolls could be used as the ultimate sleeper agents. Think of an Infernal Affairs type situation, where a doll is planted in a criminal organization and doesn’t even know they’re being used as a surveillance op for the police.

Back at the dollhouse, Boyd and Claire get a bit closer. I’ve got a bad feeling about Amy Acker’s future since I believe she’s been cast in a new pilot and is still credited as “guest starring” even though she seems to be a main character. But, for her time on the show, she’s a nice human presence in the dollhouse. Things aren’t totally working on that side of the storyline yet, but I want to see more, and at this point in the show, that’s what’s needed.

While I did enjoy the episode, I think the climax evidenced one of my major problems with the show, and that’s the fact that it feels a bit dated in its production value. I feel like I saw that same above the stage climax in a Buffy season one episode, and TV has come a long ways since then. In a world where you can have shows that are shot as well as The Sopranos, or produced on the scale of Rome, this competent, but unexceptional direction just doesn’t do it. Shooting a show as well as The Sopranos doesn’t require money, it requires great directors. Perhaps they have to shoot this show faster than The Sopranos worked, but still, the lack of production value and technical skill shows.

But, I’m still liking it. This was my favorite episode yet, and we’ll see where things go. Episode six is supposed to be the big “game changer,” so if they can stay this good until then, I’m excited to see how big the quality jump is.

Battlestar Galactica: 'Someone to Watch Over Me' (4x17)

My biggest problem with Battlestar throughout its run has always been its frustrating inconsistency. After an incredible premiere, they rambled through most of this chunk of episodes, before returning to greatness here with an episode that focused on a lot of neglected characters and had some really chill-inducing moments like only this show can do.

I really loved this hour, I think all the stories in it worked, and it built things up to a level of tension where I can really believe that we’re three episodes from the finale now. But, let me first address some of the issues I’ve had with the show since its return from hiatus. There’s been a major shift in purpose and focus since the show returned from the strike. I feel like the cylon/human alliance plot was set up nicely over the course of the first half of season four, but we sort of jumped forward to the point where it’s a foregone conclusion without really seeing the growing pains it would have. I suppose that’s what the whole putting goo on Galactica and munity subplots were supposed to do, but those all skirted around the issue, they didn’t deal with the alliance itself. Where’s D’Anna? Where’s Leoben? They’re the strongest cylon personalities, and I’d like to see how they’re dealing with all this.

I think the biggest issue is that Moore and co. realized that they had to wrap up all the storylines and actually pay off a lot of the mysteries. That led to the construction of the whole the final five were humans who became cylons who then could reproduce so they were indistinct from humans who then got into a war with cylons and traveled across the galaxy to make the skinjob cylons and then got trapped in the human world by Cavil story. It’s a really complex thing, and just explaining it took an entire episode. I loved that episode, but the show, don’t tell problem has been there going forward. All that information just closed off old storylines, it didn’t open up that many new possibilities, and to a large extent, it made the fleet we’ve been following for all these years just pawns in a parent/child conflict between Cavil and the Five. I suppose the point is to have the people of the fleet and the rebel cylons break the paradigm that’s doomed humanity for so many years, but it takes away some of their agency.

Here, the five talk about not wanting to be gods, but what it’s really done is remove character agency. All these people were placed into roles, and their motivations are determined by vague memories of the past. We don’t have a sense of them creating their own story, they’re just playing off of a script written long ago that they can’t quite make out. This has all happened before, this will all happen again was interesting when it was about Kara, because she always maintained agency, but feared getting caught up in trying to live out her destiny. At the end of The Invisibles, Jack says predestiny doesn’t matter, we’re here and we’re living out our lives in the moment. That’s what Kara was doing, with the five, it’s impossible to tell, and that makes them subject to writers’ whims rather than defining their own story.

But, they spent most of this episode sitting at a bar, so it wasn’t a huge problem. We thankfully got to spend some time with Sharon and Kara, two of my favorite characters who have been out of the spotlight for a while. Kara apparently hallucinates a ghost version of her father to talk to, and uses him to process her own issues about her parental abandonment. I like the way talking to the pianist is a way for her to try and understand her father’s point of view. He was committed to his art, and didn’t want to be held back by his wife. That sounds at least somewhat admirable, but how does it feel to Kara, who’s the one left behind. Is she less valuable than his art?

This storyline ties in nicely with the way we previously saw Kara abused by her mother. Her mother broke Kara’s fingers, a way of preventing her from following her father’s artistic path. That’s a well done retcon, enhancing what we saw before without contradicting any of it.

The question that arises now is whether Kara’s father is Daniel the missing cylon. That would knit a lot of things together, and would explain why her father knows the cylon song. That moment was absolutely brilliant, like only this show can do. Hearing the song gradually become the cylon revelation All Along the Watchtower piece, accompanied by that slow zoom on to Tigh and Kara getting lost in the music was perfect. It was something you can only do in cinema. A moment like that makes up for a lot of the troubled elements throughout the season. It’s also part of why the show is frustrating, they can be so good, why can’t they hit that level all the time?

Tyrol and Boomer had some great stuff too, but did raise some questions. The impression I got from season one was that Boomer honestly believed she was human, and was horrified to find out the truth. Even after they killed her, she teamed up with a Six in “Downloaded” to help the humans, so I’m not sure why she’s turned into a hardline Cavil person, who’s this ultimate femme fatale operative here, taking joy in messing with everyone in the fleet. Maybe I don’t remember something from the lengthy hiatus the show took, but the motivation doesn’t seem quite consistent.

But, I did enjoy pretty much everything she did, and if you accept the character development, her manipulation was great. You buy into her and the dream life she’s built for herself and Tyrol. I also loved the skeeviness of making sure to fuck Helo where Athena could see. That’s the kind of scene you can only do in sci-fi.

And, her escape from the Galactica with Hera kicked the story into high gear after it lagged for a bit. Halfway through this episode, I was thinking this did not at all feel like a show that was three episodes away from its finale. But, by the end, the pieces start to come together, even as the Galactica starts to fall apart. I’m guessing like Babylon 5, the titular space ship won’t be making it to the series finale. And, I’m also assuming we’ll be seeing the return of Cavil shortly.

The juxtaposition of Roslin’s collapse with Hera’s departure was evocative. We’ve already seen them tied together in the opera house vision, what will Hera’s departure mean for the future of the fleet? Can the Cylon/Human alliance continue without the embodiment of that alliance.

Ultimately, I’m less concerned with the narrative resolution than with getting more of the great character moments we got in this episode. I loved the Kara story, and I hope we get more moments of beauty like hearing her gradually build the song. If there is a final space battle, I hope it’s a trippy, evocative one. The show’s got itself back in a good place, I hope they bring it home strong.

Friday Night Lights: 3x01-3x06

I’ve talked a lot about my mixed feelings on two Friday night shows this year, Battlestar and Dollhouse. And, amidst their troubled runs, a show I’d kind of dismissed has just come back and started killing it every week, and that’s Friday Night Lights. After a second season that could be most kindly described as “troubled,” the show has been consistently getting close to season one highs every week. Right now, it just might be the best show currently airing on Friday nights.

Whenever a veteran band comes out with a new album, it’s invariably hailed as “a return to their roots,” a throwback to the spirit of their most loved album. Every new Radiohead album is at least rumored to be a throwback to the style of OK Computer, every Depeche Mode album is a callback to Violator. And, Friday Night Lights season three was treated as a return to the style of season one. Season two isn’t exactly wiped out of continuity, but most of its story developments are conveniently disregarded.

Grant Morrison proposed the idea of hypertime continuity for the DCU, in which all the stories are true, but some are more true than others, depending on the quality and staying power of the story. Batman’s origin will never change, that’s a fundamental piece of the character’s makeup, but various details about it can change, and the best way to figure out the “true” origin is to look at which version of the story is strongest. That way, if someone writes a story in which it turns out Batman’s parents were really murdered by space aliens, it can fade in to the background, technically still part of the mythos, but far away from the core timeline.

The hypertime concept is a good way of explaining how season three deals with the series history because what it boils down to is the stories that people like are the most true, and the ones that people don’t like can be forgotten. So, developments like Lyla and Riggins getting together can continue, but Matt and his maid sleeping together and the Landry murder plot fade away. Technically, the Landry murder still exists, but it’s drifting somewhere in limbo, hopefully never to be mentioned again.

At first, I felt like the show was just replaying its greatest hits. I have mixed feelings about U2’s All That You Can’t Leave Behind album because so much of it feels like a conscious decision to sound like what people think U2 should sound like. So, even though there’s great songs on there, it feels almost like a covers album, U2 covering themselves. The first few episodes felt this way, the emotional beats and style were right out of season one, but I was conscious of the show revisting those great storylines, and that distracted me from surrendering to the emotion of the stories.

But, starting with the last episode of the Smash arc, the show has just been nailing it on all counts. The first season of the show was brilliant because they would do moments where intellectually you knew what was going to happen, but they managed to maintain a huge amount of tension, and then give you a huge emotional payoff when the victory you were waiting for finally came. In the Smash storyline, we saw the amazing scene where Coach Taylor and Smash are told that they’ll have to come back for the next practice, which leads to Coach making a plea to let Smash on the field, for a moment there’s tension, then Smash gets his chance and the emotion just soars. The stakes have been delineated so clearly that just seeing him get out on the field is a huge emotional payoff.

I loved the end of that arc, it was an unabashed happy ending, one that skirted through sadness but made it in the end. Because we saw Smash really suffer, the payoff is much more satisfying. Particularly effective was the possible Alamo Freeze job, which made the practical considerations vs. following his dream conflict very clear.

The show has also focused more on the smaller details of life in Dillon, recalling the early days of the series. I loved Riggins’ tour of the seedier side of town in the last episode, and the contrast between the world weary senior and the totally naïve freshman. In high school, you have these kids who have already lived a hard life and done it all and you’ve got some people who are totally under the wings of their parents, and never really done anything. And, that’s conveyed well in those scenes. I also liked the detail of JD having a crush on Lyla.

Another beat that really worked in this episode was the Matt and Julie story. This show has always been one of the most beautiful on TV, and their trip to the lake felt dynamic and visual in a way that TV rarely does. It felt more like a Malick movie than a network drama. Compare to the look of the forest on Dollhouse, where it almost felt like they were on a giant soundstage. The scene on the lake made you feel like you were in nature, the sun sparkling and cutting through the trees to create an absolutely beautiful space. Even in the weakest days of season two, the show always looked great, and this season, they’ve been knocking out as well. My favorite shot of the episode was Julie and Matt driving back home in the glow of the rising sun.

This season has also brought Landry back to the character who first stood out in season one. I don’t mean to imply that all change is bad, but season two got away from everything good about the show. To go back to the style of season one, but continue to evolve the characters is what’s made the show so satisfying this year. I really like the band storyline, particularly the way that the band he’s in feels so specific to the town he’s living in. It sounds just like high school bands sound, all jumbled noise, with some snatches of skill struggling to rise above the mess.

So, I’m really excited to see the season continue to develop. The JD McCoy storyline is great, uniting a lot of the characters, and putting Coach Taylor in an interesting place. But, most importantly, the world feels real again, and it’s great just to spend time there. I thought season two had killed the show, but it’s back.

Battlestar Galactica - 'Deadlock' (4x16)

The entire backhalf of season four has been problematic in a lot of ways. I’ve loved pieces of it, the premiere particularly, but since then, the show has been drifting and struggling to find an emotional focus. Last week’s controversial info dump hour was thought provoking and really challenging like only this show can be. This episode reverts to a weird kind of soap opera, as character motivations are thrown around in service of an overarching narrative that’s making sense on a thematic level, but doesn’t seem to have the kind of drive that a series entering its final four episodes should have.

A lot of shows are rejuvenated in their final seasons, having the liberty to make lasting character change and tear the premise apart in dynamic ways. Six Feet Under is a great example, the final fate of Nate is the obvious example, but even before that, the show broke out of the soap opera drift of its weaker fourth season, where you feel like plots are spun just to keep characters on the show, rather than because they’re stories that need to be told.

This show hasn’t really taken advantage of that freedom, sure last week’s episode revealed most of the big mysteries surrounding the show. But, I’m not the kind of viewer that’s as interested in the answers to questions as in how characters grow and change. In most cases, mysteries are more interesting than their answers, and those answers are primarily interesting as a device to lead us to new, more compelling stories. In this case, the answer to the great mystery of the Final Five has worked on a thematic level, and was really compelling to hear last episode, but hasn’t led to a particularly interesting story in its followup.

My major issue with this episode was that the Tigh/Caprica Six relationship felt like kind of an afterthought last season. It was interesting in the context of Tigh exploring his new role as a cylon, and a continued exploration of his grief over Ellen’s death, but I never thought that he really loved her. So, Ellen claiming that Tigh must love her because she’s pregnant didn’t work on an emotional level. It makes sense on a mythology level, but we know that Tigh loves Ellen more than her, or at least that’s what the scenes we’ve actually seen have led us to believe.

The last season of The Sopranos drew a lot of fire for its slowed down pace and dedramatized style. I think they’re trying for something similar here, cutting character beats to their core, and skipping over scenes that would seem like big dramatic moments to instead focus on the daily routine of the fleet. It worked on The Sopranos because there wasn’t that much narrative baggage to deal with. Sure, the war with New York was in play, but the show was always extremely character driven, so you could have no narrative resolution and still feel satisfied.

Here, the narrative has become so convoluted, just telling us what’s happening takes up a ton of time, and doesn’t leave a lot of time for character beats. Another central issue for me this year is that they’re hitting the exact same character beats in every episode, and neglecting a lot of the cast. Yes, Olmos and Hogan are great actors, but how many scenes of them bonding do we need to see? It feels like they’re the only two characters who get any real screen time and development now, everyone else just does whatever the narrative requires.

Tyrol is a great example of this. In one scene, he’s urging Adama to use the cylon goo to fix the ship, and doing everything he can to save Galactica from Gaeta and his rebellion. Then, this episode he’s saying that they should abandon the fleet and fly away on the baseship. It could make sense if we’re given any insight into his motivation, but we’re not, and are left to piece together a complex set of motivations without anything onscreen to back it up.

Plus, I think last episode’s revelations throw into question the whole notion of these characters as “cylons.” They’re technically cylons, but on Earth, they were the equivalent of humans. Couldn’t this have been a key moment to say, see we’re the same as you, accept us again. Instead, it’s just glossed over and he and Tory decide to go back to the baseship, seemingly ignoring everything we learned from Anders last week.

Why is Tory so resolutely committed to the cylons? What makes her different from Tyrol and Tigh? There’s so much potentially interesting stuff there, but instead we’re spending all our time on the same three characters who have been the subject of every other episode this season.

Along those lines, the Baltar storyline in this episode is disappointing because, while often hilarious, it doesn’t make any sense in the overall story, and basically invalidates everything interesting about his arc in the early part of the season. I found Baltar really interesting as someone who’s decided that all these voices he’s been hearing in his head are a message from God, and that’s his purpose in the fleet. He may enjoy the attention of his harem, but on some level, he has to believe to make that story interesting. Here, we see him as the same goofy guy from earlier in the series, but inexplicably Adama decides to arm him with guns, a mere episode after a similar civilian force overwhelmed the ship and caused mass chaos.

It’s frustrating to watch the show hit the same beats again and again because it can be so great. The scene where Tigh talks about letting his love fill the frakkin’ room is awesome, but the story it’s in doesn’t have an emotional impact to match the impact of the scene itself.

I guess my central issue is that the show has just abandoned any attempt to evolve most of its characters, and decided to focus exclusively on Adama and Tigh, with the convoluted cylon mythology as a backdrop. There hasn’t been much interesting work done with Sharon, Helo, Baltar, Tyrol, Tory, Leoben, D’Anna or even Kara this season, and that’s frustrating because they’re all great characters, and could have great stories. When they do appear, it’s merely to serve the plot, and that’s frustrating.

This wasn’t an awful episode, but it’s symptomatic of a lot of the problems the series has at this point in its run. I think it was a huge mistake for them to ever leave Earth. As the show often does, I was all excited about a new status quo. How would they try to rebuild Earth and make it livable? Instead, we got the same Galactica on a search that we’ve already seen. I know there’s budget issues with filming outside, but I just see the end product, and I know that the show’s most exciting episodes were the New Caprica arc, where everything was different and we saw the characters in a new light. Let’s see that again before the end.

My 2009 Academy Awards

The real Oscars have happened already, but what would happen if I was giving out the awards. Here's what...

Best Actor
Josh Brolin – W.
Clint Eastwood – Gran Torino
Philip Seymour Hoffman – Synedoche, New York
Brad Pitt – Benjamin Button
Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler

Rourke became this guy. He’s done a lot of hard living, and that all reads on screen. Like a lot of great movie star performances, it’s a role that uses his off screen narrative as a supplement to the performance, such that the performer and role become inseperable, and mutually supporting.


Best Actress
Cate Blanchett – Benjamin Button
Anne Hathaway – Rachel Getting Married
Nicole Kidman – Australia
Lina Leandersson – Let the Right One In
Ellen Page – The Tracey Fragments

Anne Hathaway also had a tough year off screen, but she nailed it onscreen with a great performance at the center of a really great film that’s unfortunately been sort of forgotten here in awards season. She’s the wild heart of the movie, and makes a really memorable, strong character.

Best Supporting Actor
Robert Downey Jr. – Tropic Thunder
Aaron Eckhardt – The Dark Knight
James Franco – Pineapple Express
Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight
Brad Pitt – Burn After Reading

This one was the most locked category in a pretty locked Oscar field, and understandably so. I didn’t like Batman Begins, I loved The Dark Knight. What’s the difference between the two? It’s Ledger’s performance. He injects a degree of chaos in to Christopher Nolan’s sealed world, and utterly owns the movie as a result.

Best Supporting Actress
Cate Blanchett – Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Rosemarie Dewitt – Rachel Getting Married
Catherine Keener – Synedoche, New York
Natalie Portman – My Blueberry Nights
Marisa Tomei – The Wrestler

This one’s a decidedly unconventional choice, but no other female supporting performance this year gave me the joy that Cate Blanchett’s manically over the top Indiana Jones villain did. Her accent wasn’t convincing as any sort of real accent, but it was a lot of fun. She didn’t go deep into character, but she was incredibly entertaining. What’s wrong with pop fun in a movie?

Best Animated Film
Rebuild of Eva
The Girl Who Leapt Through Time
Wall-E

All three of these are great films, but Rebuild of Eva’s devastatingly emotion and potent character psychology put it over the top. It’s a really smart reinvention of a brilliant TV series, updating and refining what was already good to make it not necessarily better, but something different and worthwhile.

Art Direction
Australia
My Blueberry Nights
Synedoche New York
Sukiyaki Western Django
Wall-E

No movie looked as sumptuous and glam as Australia. Baz always makes great looking films and his art direction team excelled on this one.

Cinematography
Australia
Let the Right One In
My Blueberry Nights
Rachel Getting Married
Speed Racer

The most deliberate and haunting film of the year, the film’s cold, lifeless look fits perfectly with its vampiric subject matter.

Costume Design
Australia
Speed Racer
Sukiyaki Western Django
Synedoche New York
Repo: The Genetic Opera

It’s a bit of a cliché to give the costume design award to a big period piece, but the characters looked great, and an entire world was built on screen in the highly underrated Australia.

Editing
Australia
Let the Right One In
Rachel Getting Married
Rebuild of Eva
Speed Racer

It’s hard to assess an editing award because so much of an editor’s job is to create the rhythm that a director wants. But, I like to reward films that use editing to expand what cinema can do, and no film did that more this year than Speed Racer. Not all of it worked, but the experimental editing style was exhilarating to see, and made me more excited about the possibilities of cinema than anything else I saw this year.

Foreign Language
Let the Right One In
Rebuild of Eva
Sukiyaki Western Django
The Girl Who Leapt Through Time
The Machine Girl

As I said earlier, this is a masterful reinvention of the TV series, distilling what worked in to the shorter running time of cinema.

Makeup
Benjamin Button
Blindness
Let the Right One in
Syndeoche New York
The Dark Knight

So much of the film hinges on playing with our perceptions of Brad Pitt the movie star, of watching an old man become the star we know now, and then become the star we knew fifteen years ago. The makeup team pulls it off, and the film’s success really hinges on them.

Score
Australia
Let the Right One In
The Dark Knight
Rebuild of Eva
Wall-E

So much of the film is wordless, the score carries an even greater burden. But, the score makes Wall-E work.

Song
“Another Way To Die” - Quantum of Solace
“Beautiful World” – Rebuild of Eva
“Jai Ho” – Slumdog Millionaire
“The Wrestler” – The Wrestler

The closing credits track for Rebuild of Eva nicely sums up the themes of the film and does so with a catchy J-Pop flourish.

Sound
Australia
Rebuild of Eva
Speed Racer
The Dark Knight
Wall-E

Ben Burtt built Wall-E’s voice, and so much of his character through sound. Great work.

Visual Effects
Benjamin Button
Speed Racer
Synedoche New York

As I mentioned earlier, the makeup is a big piece of character, but here so are the effects. We’re on the road to a post spectacle effects world, where effects are subtle and designed to be invisible rather than call attention to themselves. Benjamin Button is a step on that road.

Screenplay – Original
Australia
Rachel Getting Married
Synedoche New York
Wall-E
The Wrestler

Robert Siegel builds an entire world in the shadows of a man’s failed life. The film feels rambling and full of the little moments that real life has, but most movies don’t.

Screenplay – Adapted
Let the Right One In
Rebuild of Eva
Snow Angels
The Dark Knight
The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

It’s odd to think that Anno should be rewarded for adapting his own work. But, his work as a screenwriter here is very similar to what a writer has to do when adapting a novel to film, distilling more rambling plots and character arcs into a single, driven narrative. That’s what Anno does, creating a film that’s in a lot of ways stronger than the series it’s drawn from.

Director
Baz Luhrmann - Australia
Hideaki Anno - Rebuild of Eva
Wong Kar-Wai - My Bluebery Nights
Tomas Alfredson - Let the Right One in
Darren Aronofsky - The Wrestler

Luhrmann’s films have a distinct voice and feel no matter what the subject matter is. Here, he manages to create emotional moments that hit me like no other movie this year. He understands that movies are in many ways like dreams, they exist in a place removed from reality, and here he creates a film that recalls the best of classical Hollywood in its pitch perfect creation of emotional moments.

Picture
Australia
Rebuild of Eva
Let the Right One in
Rachel Getting Married
My Blueberry Nights

Australia is also the best film of the year. No movie engaged me emotionally like it did, building up, receding then building again to a devastating finale. It was a transporting cinematic experience, and a hugely underrated film.

Nominations (Wins)
Australia – 10 (4)
Rebuild of Evangelion 1.0 – 9 (4)
Let the Right One In – 9 (1)
Synedoche New York – 7
The Dark Knight – 6 (1)
The Wrestler – 5 (2)
Rachel Getting Married – 5 (1)
Speed Racer – 5 (1)
My Blueberry Nights – 5
Wall-E – 5 (2)
Benjamin Button – 4 (2)
Sukiyaki Western Django - 3
The Girl Who Leapt Through Time - 3
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull 1 (1)
Blindness - 1
Burn After Reading - 1
Gran Torino – 1
Pineapple Express – 1
Quantum of Solace – 1
Slumdog Millionaire – 1
The Machine Girl
The Tracey Fragments – 1
Tropic Thunder - 1
W. – 1