Category: Film and TV

Take A Second Look

I’d like to recommend something to you that may sound implausible at first.

Take another look at the TV show Star Trek: Enterprise.

Things are not as they were.

When Enterprise first took to the air, I was very hopeful. There were all kinds of dramatic potential in a prequel to the original Star Trek series. E.g., getting to see all those "lost ships" the Original Series Enterprise went in search of and, in particular, seeing the founding of the Federation.

Unfortunately, danger signals started coming from the series almost at once. It seemed to be set too far in the past for the show to deal with the founding of the Federation, and most of the shows seemed misdirected towards a kind of "gee whiz" exploration of the galaxy.

My personal ability to bond with the series was also hampered by the fact that (at the time it went on air) I couldn’t even get the series due to living in an apartment complex with the dinkiest cable in the world, though I managed to see some episodes anyway.

Things didn’t seem to get better in the show’s second season, and its ratings declined. Taking this decline seriously, the show’s third season focused on a year-long story arc that posed a direct threat to the survival of everyone on Earth (the Xindi arc).

I thought this was a step in the right direction, like the lengthy arcs that drove the shows Babylon 5 and (in its latter seasons) Deep Space 9. The quality of the show definitely improved in season 3.

Despite this, the series almost was not renewed for a fourth season, but in the end it was.

I thought, and still think, that the series needs to move to the Roman War that leads to the founding of the Federation as quickly as possible to get things back on track.

They’re not moving to that as quickly as I would if I were the show-runner (though they are definitely moving toward it), but the quality of the show has improved even more in the fourth season, and I want to recommend that you take another look at the program (or a first look, if you haven’t seen it before).

The characteristic of the present (fourth) season is that for the most part it features stories that are longer than one episode but shorter than a whole season. Most stories are three or four episodes long.

More important than the format is that the show’s creators are focused on integrating the series more closely with the established Star Trek mythology, letting us look at corners of things that we have heard of but never seen or never seen explored in detail.

One three-part arc, for example, featured Brent Spiner (Next Gen‘s Commander Data and his "father" Noonien Soong) as Data’s "grandfather" Arik Soong. At the time of Enterprise, the line of family geniuses was not intersted in robotics but in genetic engineering. Arik Soong tried to bring to fruition a line of genetically "improved" humans dating from the late-20th-century Eugenics Wars (a la Kahn Noonien Singh). His disastrous failure in these episodes convinced him that trying to improve on the breed was a mistake, and by the end he turned to cybernetics, paving the way for the creation of Commander Data by his son.

Another trilogy of episodes focused on the planet Vulcan. We got to see things we’d heard about before, like the harsh desert known as Vulcan’s Forge (a reference to Roman mythology, incidentally) and we got an explanation for something Enterprise fans had long complained about: The Vulcans we saw in the series don’t seem the same as the Vulcans we know from the Original Series. They aren’t pacifists. They’re (somewhat) more emotional. They aren’t normally mind-melders. And they tend to be suspicious toward humans rather than respectful of them. In fact, they’re more like Romulans than the Vulcans we know from previous Star Trek shows.

Turns out that these differences are explained by a simple fact: Under the (hidden) influence of Romulans, the Vulcans of Enterprise‘s day have strayed from the teachings of their planetary peacemaker, Surak (who we kind-of met in the Original Series). But due to the intervention of the Enterprise crew, a social revolution starts that will lead to the dominance of the philosophy of the Vulcans that we know and love.

Upcoming episodes and min-arcs seem no less ambitious.

One such episode features the inventor of transporter technology.

A quadrology of episodes focuses on the Andorians and their homeworld.

An upcoming trilogy focuses on the Klingons and holds the prospect of finally offering an on-screen explanation of why the Klingons we saw in the Original Series are so different visually from the Klingons of the movies and subsequent series.

And Bill Shatner is likely to appear soon.

However things work out, a change has definitely been made in the Star Trek: Enterprise series. I’m already seeing messages on Internet boards like "What’s happening to me? I am actually loving Star Trek again."

There’s something to love here, again.

Tune in Friday nights to see what it is.

Start watching this Friday and be ready for the dramatic episodes that will start airing in January.

U.K. YAHOOS: Surging U.S. Conservative Tide Hurts Pro-Gay Hollywood Movie

As if!

THIS PIECE HAS TO BE THE SORRIEST EXCUSE I’VE SEEN FOR BOXOFFICE ANALYSIS.

First, there’s the insinuation that this all has something to do with the alledged recent "US swing towards conservativism," as if everything that goes on in America has to be explained through the lens of the election.

Second, there’s the implication that Americans aren’t willing to see the film because they’re "homophobes." Yeah, I suppose that’s why Oliver Stone’s previous film, JFK, which charged that the famous president was offed by a cabal of homosexual Republicans,  made $94 million dollars in U.S. boxoffice (figure adjusted for inflation), with a budget of about half that.

No, the floppage of the film would have nothing to do with the fact that it’s a bloated, 3-hour behemoth that’s so awful it’s got a 14% freshness rating from the left-of-center critics at RottenTomatoes.com, who say things
like:

"Our history teachers may have been bores, but at least the bell rang before they became wearying."

"You could literally chop Alexander up into six 30-minute blocks, reassemble it at random, and the movie would make the exact same amount of sense (i.e. none). "

"So misconceived, so shrill, so fetishy is Oliver Stone’s epic, so unintentionally hilarious a stew of paganism and Freudianism, that it makes Conan the Barbarian look like Gladiator."

"Not just a bad movie but a bad movie of truly epic proportions."

"I respect Stone as a filmmaker, but this movie is punishment rather than entertainment."

No, comments like these need not be taken into account. Not when American redstaters make such a handy scapegoat for the failure of a filmmaker’s campy, self-indulgent, politically correct bloatfest.

The Independent’s spin on this is, in the words of Don Lockwood, "pure publicity." It’s the reason Hollywood wishes the film flopped.

(NOTE: I will mention one criticism of the film that isn’t fair–the fact that Alexander was bisexual. Stone isn’t making that up. That’s what the historical sources indicate, and there is little reason to doubt them on this pont. If you simply read a little Greek philosophy, it swiftly becomes painfully obvoius that Greek culture at the time was awash in bisexuality. Whether or how such should be treated in cinematic recreations of the period today, however, is entirely another matter.)

Canon Lawyer Or Movie Critic?

As so often with the case, that question is a false dichotomy. It isn’t an either/or situation, in the case of canonist Dr. Edward Peters, it’s both/and. Though primarily known as a canon lawyer, Peters has for years been an afficionado of film, though he hasn’t published many reviews in recent times–a fact he needs to fix. In that regard, he’s made a setp in the right direction by beefing up the film section of his website (canonlaw.info).

At the beginning of the section, he explains his philosophy of film:

The key criterion by which to judge a film is simple: does it tell a good story,
and does it tell it well. Thus, writing is the most important factor in a film
(just as it is, though more obviously so, in literature and drama). Direction
and acting are great arts, but they should be, and are in most cases, at the
service of the story. Not every story need be profound, of course; there is a
place for healthy diversion, and some films might serve primarily as settings
for, say, great acting, the way some passages of Waugh are primarily occasions
for exquisite prose. But in the end, most films should be assessed as outlined
above, that is, the way stories have been judged ever since little groups of
frightened foragers, long since banished from Eden, first sat around camp fires
under the stars, waiting for Sunrise.

CHECK OUT HIS RECOMMENDATIONS.

The Searchers

Mittenbuttes_1There’s a scene in a Deep Space 9 episode where Nog is hiding out in Vic Fontane’s 1963 apartment watching TV. He sees the end of the Western movie Shane and then declares:

NOG: I liked The Searchers better.

VIC: (shrugging) Who doesn’t?

This intrigued me because, at the time, I had seen Shane but not The Searchers. Recently, I got the chance to. In fact, Steve Greydanus and I watched it together. It was the first time to see the film for both of us, and afterward we had a great time debating the film–particularly its moral significance.

YOU CAN READ STEVE’S REVIEW HERE.

I’m particularly tickled by one line in Steve’s review, where he cites as an example of pointless carping the criticism that John Ford’s Monument Valley, Utah filming location doesn’t look like the West Texas setting of the film. I’m tickled by that because as we watched the film, I made this very criticism! (Sure, Monument Valley is gorgeous, but seeing the East and West Mitten Buttes [above] in film after film by Ford harms my suspension of disbelief.)

My thought largely converges with Steve’s, but I thought I’d add a few thoughts of my own.

First, about Shane. There is a reason one can compare this film with The Searchers, because both are part of the same general subgenre of Western, which one might call "the thoughtful Western." This contrasts with the commedic Western (Support Your Local Sheriff, Support Your Local Gunfighter, Maverick), the hard-bitten Western (Clint Eastwood’s "Man With No Name" trilogy), the Indian-centric Western (The Little Big Man, Dances With Wolves), the Spaghetti Western (Sergio Leone’s stuff), the historical recreation (Tombstone, Wyatt Earp) and a bunch of other subgenres, including the Sci-Fi Western (Timerider, Back to the Future III, The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.).

The thoughtful Western involves showing something other than a feel-good shoot-’em-up or a hostile critique of Western expansion. It combines elements of the two, attempting to show the moral complexity of the Old West. It allows elements of the feel-good Western but mixes it with disturbing elements that serve as a moral counterpoint. It doesn’t slide into being "hate America," politically correct history, but it doesn’t present the Old West with "white hats vs. black hats" simplicity.

In other words, it tries in some measure to capture the human condition. This is what elevates The Searchers into being a work of art rather than simply being a work of entertainment.

Shane does this to a certain extent, most memorably in a scene in which its hero is having a brutal fight with a villain and the proceedings are being observed by a young boy who–his eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle–is also eagerly munching on a candy cane as he watches. This disturbing image of a child being exposed to and fascinated by such violence invites the audience to contemplate its own enjoyment of Western action and the motives that might be behind the pleasure they get at watching it. It’s an implicit questioning of the simplistic vision of the Western hero.

Shane does not break too much from the mold and does not examine the moral complexity of the Old West to the extent of other films, but John Ford’s The Searchers does. This film carries the respectful questioning of Western mythology to a whole new level.

It would be a little hard for me to say, with Nog and Vic, that I would "like" or "enjoy" The Searchers more than Shane.  I recognize that it is a film that better expresses the human condition and that from this perspective it is a better film, and one that is to be watched. But for pure enjoyment value, a Western with more feel-good factor is more likely what I’d plop into my DVD tray on any given occasion.

The Searchers represents a continuation of themes found in previous John Ford’s works. His earlier film She Wore A Yellow Ribbon was set just after the Battle of the Little Bighorn (i.e., Custer’s Last Stand) and features John Wayne as an aging calvalryman who is trying to avert a full-scale Indian war and the devastation it would bring to both sides if, buoyed by their success against Custer, various tribes decided to begin a massacre.

At one point in the film, Wayne tries to avoid the coming war by meeting with an aging Indian chief who is a personal friend of his. The chief, who is a Christian, tells Wayne that the young men of the tribes are too empassioned to be calmed down by words, that he has lost his influence with them, and that he fears that a war that will be devastating for both sides is now unstoppable. This "voice of wisdom and experience" vs. "youth and passion" dynamic represents a factor of the human condition affecting all groups (Indians and Anglos alike) and goes beyond the "circle the wagons, start the shoot-’em-up" mentality of many Westerns.

In The Searchers, Wayne is again working with Ford, but this time the director expresses the human condition in a different way, by turning Wayne not into the aging voice of wisdom but into the aging voice of bitterness.

Now Wayne is an embittered former Confederate soldier who refused to surrender at the end of the war and who has been wandering ever since. Like the majority of people at this time, he harbors racist attitudes, but they are not so extreme that he is unable to recognize and respect the humanity of others. It would seem that Wayne’s character would be happy if different groups simply left each other alone and minded their own affairs.

He doesn’t get what he wants, because an aggrieved Indian leader murders most of his family and kidnaps two of its youngest female members. In an attempt to get them back, Wayne and a companion become the searchers that give the movie it’s title.

Wayne’s character is far more complex than what one expects from the traditional John Wayne hero. At different moments he can be heroic, wise, foolish, and morally repugnant. And the film means him to be shown in these lights. While Ford  means us to respect and appreciate much of what Wayne does, he are means us to be dismayed and abhorred by some of it.  He is thus trying to show the human condition, for all humans barring Our Lord and Our Lady are in some measure praiseworthy and in some measure abhorrent.

Ford does not push the character so far in the direction of the latter that he becomes an anti-hero. In this way, The Searchers may represent a transitional film in the history of Westerns, pushing the hero firmly toward the dark side, but not pushing him full into it the way later filmmakers did. There are several points in the latter half of the movie where Ford could have simply stopped filming, leaving us with a bleak, existential statement, but in the end he allows the characters involved, Wayne’s included, to find redemption.

After all, no matter what our flaws, redemption is what each of us is searching for.

The Searchers

Mittenbuttes_1There’s a scene in a Deep Space 9 episode where Nog is hiding out in Vic Fontane’s 1963 apartment watching TV. He sees the end of the Western movie Shane and then declares:

NOG: I liked The Searchers better.

VIC: (shrugging) Who doesn’t?

This intrigued me because, at the time, I had seen Shane but not The Searchers. Recently, I got the chance to. In fact, Steve Greydanus and I watched it together. It was the first time to see the film for both of us, and afterward we had a great time debating the film–particularly its moral significance.

YOU CAN READ STEVE’S REVIEW HERE.

I’m particularly tickled by one line in Steve’s review, where he cites as an example of pointless carping the criticism that John Ford’s Monument Valley, Utah filming location doesn’t look like the West Texas setting of the film. I’m tickled by that because as we watched the film, I made this very criticism! (Sure, Monument Valley is gorgeous, but seeing the East and West Mitten Buttes [above] in film after film by Ford harms my suspension of disbelief.)

My thought largely converges with Steve’s, but I thought I’d add a few thoughts of my own.

First, about Shane. There is a reason one can compare this film with The Searchers, because both are part of the same general subgenre of Western, which one might call "the thoughtful Western." This contrasts with the commedic Western (Support Your Local Sheriff, Support Your Local Gunfighter, Maverick), the hard-bitten Western (Clint Eastwood’s "Man With No Name" trilogy), the Indian-centric Western (The Little Big Man, Dances With Wolves), the Spaghetti Western (Sergio Leone’s stuff), the historical recreation (Tombstone, Wyatt Earp) and a bunch of other subgenres, including the Sci-Fi Western (Timerider, Back to the Future III, The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.).

The thoughtful Western involves showing something other than a feel-good shoot-’em-up or a hostile critique of Western expansion. It combines elements of the two, attempting to show the moral complexity of the Old West. It allows elements of the feel-good Western but mixes it with disturbing elements that serve as a moral counterpoint. It doesn’t slide into being "hate America," politically correct history, but it doesn’t present the Old West with "white hats vs. black hats" simplicity.

In other words, it tries in some measure to capture the human condition. This is what elevates The Searchers into being a work of art rather than simply being a work of entertainment.

Shane does this to a certain extent, most memorably in a scene in which its hero is having a brutal fight with a villain and the proceedings are being observed by a young boy who–his eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle–is also eagerly munching on a candy cane as he watches. This disturbing image of a child being exposed to and fascinated by such violence invites the audience to contemplate its own enjoyment of Western action and the motives that might be behind the pleasure they get at watching it. It’s an implicit questioning of the simplistic vision of the Western hero.

Shane does not break too much from the mold and does not examine the moral complexity of the Old West to the extent of other films, but John Ford’s The Searchers does. This film carries the respectful questioning of Western mythology to a whole new level.

It would be a little hard for me to say, with Nog and Vic, that I would "like" or "enjoy" The Searchers more than Shane.  I recognize that it is a film that better expresses the human condition and that from this perspective it is a better film, and one that is to be watched. But for pure enjoyment value, a Western with more feel-good factor is more likely what I’d plop into my DVD tray on any given occasion.

The Searchers represents a continuation of themes found in previous John Ford’s works. His earlier film She Wore A Yellow Ribbon was set just after the Battle of the Little Bighorn (i.e., Custer’s Last Stand) and features John Wayne as an aging calvalryman who is trying to avert a full-scale Indian war and the devastation it would bring to both sides if, buoyed by their success against Custer, various tribes decided to begin a massacre.

At one point in the film, Wayne tries to avoid the coming war by meeting with an aging Indian chief who is a personal friend of his. The chief, who is a Christian, tells Wayne that the young men of the tribes are too empassioned to be calmed down by words, that he has lost his influence with them, and that he fears that a war that will be devastating for both sides is now unstoppable. This "voice of wisdom and experience" vs. "youth and passion" dynamic represents a factor of the human condition affecting all groups (Indians and Anglos alike) and goes beyond the "circle the wagons, start the shoot-’em-up" mentality of many Westerns.

In The Searchers, Wayne is again working with Ford, but this time the director expresses the human condition in a different way, by turning Wayne not into the aging voice of wisdom but into the aging voice of bitterness.

Now Wayne is an embittered former Confederate soldier who refused to surrender at the end of the war and who has been wandering ever since. Like the majority of people at this time, he harbors racist attitudes, but they are not so extreme that he is unable to recognize and respect the humanity of others. It would seem that Wayne’s character would be happy if different groups simply left each other alone and minded their own affairs.

He doesn’t get what he wants, because an aggrieved Indian leader murders most of his family and kidnaps two of its youngest female members. In an attempt to get them back, Wayne and a companion become the searchers that give the movie it’s title.

Wayne’s character is far more complex than what one expects from the traditional John Wayne hero. At different moments he can be heroic, wise, foolish, and morally repugnant. And the film means him to be shown in these lights. While Ford  means us to respect and appreciate much of what Wayne does, he are means us to be dismayed and abhorred by some of it.  He is thus trying to show the human condition, for all humans barring Our Lord and Our Lady are in some measure praiseworthy and in some measure abhorrent.

Ford does not push the character so far in the direction of the latter that he becomes an anti-hero. In this way, The Searchers may represent a transitional film in the history of Westerns, pushing the hero firmly toward the dark side, but not pushing him full into it the way later filmmakers did. There are several points in the latter half of the movie where Ford could have simply stopped filming, leaving us with a bleak, existential statement, but in the end he allows the characters involved, Wayne’s included, to find redemption.

After all, no matter what our flaws, redemption is what each of us is searching for.

And The Coldest Man In Hollywood Is . . .

. . . Michael Moore.

ACCORDING TO FILMTHREAT.COM’S FRIGID 50 LIST.

Michael Eisner is #3 on the list.

Incidentally, I’m told that FilmThreat is definitely from the bluestate end of the spectrum but still had the perceptiveness and honesty to dishonor Mr. Moore with the most frigid slot.

Interesting analysis about Moore on the FilmThreat list.